Tannhuser, one suspects, was a knight of ill-furnished imagination, hardly of larger discourse than a heavy Guardsman; Merlin had certainly seen his best days, and was merely repeating himself, when he fell into that hopeless captivity; and we know that Ulysses felt so manifest an _ennui_ under similar circumstances that Calypso herself furthered his departure.


There is indeed a report that he afterward left Penelope; but since she was habitually absorbed in worsted work, and it was probably from her that Telemachus got his mean, pettifogging disposition, always anxious about the property and the daily consumption of meat, no inference can be drawn from this already dubious scandal as to the relation between companionship and constancy.


Klesmer was as versatile and fascinating as a young Ulysses on a sufficient acquaintance--one whom nature seemed to have first made generously and then to have added music as a dominant power using all the abundant rest, and, as in Mendelssohn, finding expression for itself not only in the highest finish of execution, but in that fervor of creative work and theoretic belief which pierces the whole future of a life with the delight of congruous devoted purpose.


His foibles of arrogance and vanity did not exceed such as may be found in the best English families; and Catherine Arrowpoint had no corresponding restlessness to clash with his: notwithstanding her native kindliness she was perhaps too coolly firm and self-sustained.

Catherine Arrowpoint had no restlessness to clash with Klesmer's: for all her native kindliness, she was coolly firm and self-sustained.


But she was one of those satisfactory creatures whose intercourse has the charm of discovery; whose integrity of faculty and expression begets a wish to know what they will say on all subjects or how they will perform whatever they undertake; so that they end by raising not only a continual expectation but a continual sense of fulfillment--the systole and diastole of blissful companionship.


In such cases the outward presentment easily becomes what the image is to the worshipper.


It was not long before the two became aware that each was interesting to the other; but the "how far" remained a matter of doubt.

The two soon became aware that each was interesting to the other; but the "how far" remained a matter of doubt.


Klesmer did not conceive that Miss Arrowpoint was likely to think of him as a possible lover, and she was not accustomed to think of herself as likely to stir more than a friendly regard, or to fear the expression of more from any man who was not enamored of her fortune.

Klesmer did not conceive that Miss Arrowpoint was likely to think of him as a possible lover, and she thought herself unlikely to stir more than a friendly regard in any man who was not enamoured of her fortune.


Each was content to suffer some unshared sense of denial for the sake of loving the other's society a little too well; and under these conditions no need had been felt to restrict Klesmer's visits for the last year either in country or in town. He knew very well that if Miss Arrowpoint had been poor he would have made ardent love to her instead of sending a storm through the piano, or folding his arms and pouring out a hyperbolical tirade about something as impersonal as the north pole; and she was not less aware that if it had been possible for Klesmer to wish for her hand she would have found overmastering reasons for giving it to him. Here was the safety of full cups, which are as secure from overflow as the half-empty, always supposing no disturbance. Naturally, silent feeling had not remained at the same point any more than the stealthly dial-hand, and in the present visit to Quetcham, Klesmer had begun to think that he would not come again; while Catherine was more sensitive to his frequent _brusquerie_, which she rather resented as a needless effort to assert his footing of superior in every sense except the conventional.

Klesmer knew that if Miss Arrowpoint had been poor he would have made ardent love to her instead of sending a storm through the piano. He began to think that he would not visit Quetcham again. Meanwhile Catherine was aware that if it were possible for Klesmer to wish for her hand, she would give it to him.


Meanwhile enters the expectant peer, Mr. Bult, an esteemed party man who, rather neutral in private life, had strong opinions concerning the districts of the Niger, was much at home also in Brazils, spoke with decision of affairs in the South Seas, was studious of his Parliamentary and itinerant speeches, and had the general solidity and suffusive pinkness of a healthy Briton on the central table-land of life.

Enter the expectant peer, Mr. Bult, an esteemed party man of solidity and healthy pinkness.


Catherine, aware of a tacit understanding that he was an undeniable husband for an heiress, had nothing to say against him but that he was thoroughly tiresome to her.

Catherine had nothing to say against him except that he was thoroughly tiresome.


Mr. Bult was amiably confident, and had no idea that his insensibility to counterpoint could ever be reckoned against him.

Mr. Bult was amiably confident, and had no idea that his insensibility to music could be reckoned against him.


Klesmer he hardly regarded in the light of a serious human being who ought to have a vote; and he did not mind Miss Arrowpoint's addiction to music any more than her probable expenses in antique lace. He was consequently a little amazed at an after-dinner outburst of Klesmer's on the lack of idealism in English politics, which left all mutuality between distant races to be determined simply by the need of a market; the crusades, to his mind, had at least this excuse, that they had a banner of sentiment round which generous feelings could rally: of course, the scoundrels rallied too, but what then?

Klesmer he hardly regarded in the light of a serious human being; and he was consequently a little amazed at an after-dinner outburst of Klesmer's on the lack of idealism in English politics.


they rally in equal force round your advertisement van of "Buy cheap, sell dear."


On this theme Klesmer's eloquence, gesticulatory and other, went on for a little while like stray fireworks accidentally ignited, and then sank into immovable silence.


Mr. Bult was not surprised that Klesmer's opinions should be flighty, but was astonished at his command of English idiom and his ability to put a point in a way that would have told at a constituents' dinner--to be accounted for probably by his being a Pole, or a Czech, or something of that fermenting sort, in a state of political refugeeism which had obliged him to make a profession of his music; and that evening in the drawing-room he for the first time went up to Klesmer at the piano, Miss Arrowpoint being near, and said,

Mr. Bult was not surprised that Klesmer's opinions should be flighty, but was astonished at his command of English idiom, and assumed Klesmer must be a Pole or Czech refugee, or something of that sort. That evening he went up to Klesmer at the piano, and said-


"I had no idea before that you were a political man."

"I had no idea that you were a political man."


Klesmer's only answer was to fold his arms, put out his nether lip, and stare at Mr. Bult.

Klesmer folded his arms and stared at Mr. Bult.


"You must have been used to public speaking.


You speak uncommonly well, though I don't agree with you.

"You speak uncommonly well," continued Mr Bult, "though I don't agree with you.


From what you said about sentiment, I fancy you are a Panslavist."

From what you said, I fancy you are a Panslavist."


I am the Wandering Jew," said Klesmer, flashing a smile at Miss Arrowpoint, and suddenly making a mysterious, wind-like rush backward and forward on the piano.

I am the Wandering Jew," said Klesmer, flashing a smile at Miss Arrowpoint, and suddenly making a mysterious rush backward and forward on the piano.


Mr. Bult felt this buffoonery rather offensive and Polish, but--Miss Arrowpoint being there--did not like to move away.

Mr. Bult felt this buffoonery rather offensive and Polish.


"Herr Klesmer has cosmopolitan ideas," said Miss Arrowpoint, trying to make the best of the situation.

"Herr Klesmer has cosmopolitan ideas," said Miss Arrowpoint.


"He looks forward to a fusion of races."


"With all my heart," said Mr. Bult, willing to be gracious.


"I was sure he had too much talent to be a mere musician."


"Ah, sir, you are under some mistake there," said Klesmer, firing up.

"Sir, you are under some mistake," said Klesmer, firing up.


"No man has too much talent to be a musician.


A creative artist is no more a mere musician than a great statesman is a mere politician.


We are not ingenious puppets, sir, who live in a box and look out on the world only when it is gaping for amusement.


We help to rule the nations and make the age as much as any other public men.


We count ourselves on level benches with legislators.


And a man who speaks effectively through music is compelled to something more difficult than parliamentary eloquence."

To speak effectively through music is more difficult than parliamentary eloquence."


With the last word Klesmer wheeled from the piano and walked away.

With that Klesmer wheeled from the piano and walked away.


Miss Arrowpoint colored, and Mr. Bult observed, with his usual phlegmatic stolidity, "Your pianist does not think small beer of himself."

Miss Arrowpoint coloured, and Mr. Bult observed, "Your pianist thinks highly of himself."


"Herr Klesmer is something more than a pianist," said Miss Arrowpoint, apologetically.

"Herr Klesmer is something more than a pianist," said Miss Arrowpoint apologetically.


"He is a great musician in the fullest sense of the word. He will rank with Schubert and Mendelssohn."

"He is a great musician, who will rank with Schubert and Mendelssohn."


"Ah, you ladies understand these things," said Mr. Bult, none the less convinced that these things were frivolous because Klesmer had shown himself a coxcomb.

"Ah, you ladies understand these things."


Catherine, always sorry when Klesmer gave himself airs, found an opportunity the next day in the music-room to say, "Why were you so heated last night with Mr. Bult?

Catherine, always sorry when Klesmer gave himself airs, said to him next day, "Why were you so heated last night with Mr. Bult?


"I think it is hardly worth your while to be other than civil."


"You find no difficulty in tolerating him, then?--you have a respect for a political platitudinarian as insensible as an ox to everything he can't turn into political capital.

"You find no difficulty in tolerating him, then? - you respect a man full of platitudes and as insensible as an ox?"


You think his monumental obtuseness suited to the dignity of the English gentleman."


"You mean that I acted without dignity, and you are offended with me."


"Now you are slightly nearer the truth," said Catherine, smiling.


"Then I had better put my burial-clothes in my portmanteau and set off at once."

"Then I had better pack my burial-clothes and set off at once."


"If I have to bear your criticism of my operetta, you should not mind my criticism of your impatience."


You would have wished me to take his ignorant impertinence about a 'mere musician' without letting him know his place.


I am to hear my gods blasphemed as well as myself insulted.


It is impossible you should see the matter as I do.


Even you can't understand the wrath of the artist: he is of another caste for you."


"That is true," said Catherine, with some betrayal of feeling.


"He is of a caste to which I look up--a caste above mine."

"He is of a caste to which I look up - a caste above mine."


Klesmer, who had been seated at a table looking over scores, started up and walked to a little distance, from which he said,

Klesmer started up and walked a little distance, before saying-


But I had better go, all the same. I have made up my mind to go, for good and all.

But I have made up my mind to go, all the same.


You can get on exceedingly well without me: your operetta is on wheels--it will go of itself.

You can get on exceedingly well without me.


And your Mr. Bull's company fits me 'wie die Faust ins Auge.'


"You agree with me that I had better go?"


"Certainly; if that is what your business and feeling prompt.


I have only to wonder that you have consented to give us so much of your time in the last year.

I only wonder that you have given us so much of your time.


There must be treble the interest to you anywhere else.


I have never thought of you consenting to come here as anything else than a sacrifice."

I have never thought of your consenting to come here as anything other than a sacrifice."


said Klesmer, going to seat himself at the piano, and touching the keys so as to give with the delicacy of an echo in the far distance a melody which he had set to Heine's "Ich hab' dich geliebet und liebe dich noch."

said Klesmer, seating himself at the piano and delicately touching the keys.


"That is the mystery," said Catherine, not wanting to affect anything, but from mere agitation.

"That is the mystery," said Catherine, in agitation.


From the same cause she was tearing a piece of paper into minute morsels, as if at a task of utmost multiplication imposed by a cruel fairy.

She was tearing a piece of paper into minute morsels, as if at a task imposed by a cruel fairy.


"None that seems in the least probable."


It is because you are to me the chief woman in the world--the throned lady whose colors I carry between my heart and my armor."

It is because you are to me the chief woman in the world - the throned lady whose colours I carry between my heart and my armour."


Catherine's hands trembled so much that she could no longer tear the paper: still less could her lips utter a word.

Catherine's hands trembled so much that she could no longer tear the paper: still less could she speak.


"This would be the last impertinence in me, if I meant to found anything upon it.


But you once said it was your doom to suspect every man who courted you of being an adventurer, and what made you angriest was men's imputing to you the folly of believing that they courted you for your own sake.

"You once said it was your doom to suspect every man who courted you of being an adventurer, and that what made you angriest was men's assuming you would believe that they courted you for your own sake.


"Very likely," was the answer, in a low murmur.


Well, at least one man who has seen women as plenty as flowers in May has lingered about you for your own sake.

Well, at least one man has lingered for your own sake.


And since he is one whom you can never marry, you will believe him.

And since he is one whom you can never marry, you may believe him.


There is an argument in favor of some other man.


But don't give yourself for a meal to a minotaur like Bult.


I shall make my excuses to Mrs. Arrowpoint."


Klesmer rose as he ended, and walked quickly toward the door.

Klesmer rose and walked quickly toward the door.


"You must take this heap of manuscript," then said Catherine, suddenly making a desperate effort. She had risen to fetch the heap from another table.

"You must take this heap of manuscript," said Catherine, in sudden desperation, rising to fetch the folio sheets.


Klesmer came back, and they had the length of the folio sheets between them.

Klesmer turned back, and they stood with the sheets between them.


"Why should I not marry the man who loves me, if I love him?"


said Catherine. To her the effort was something like the leap of a woman from the deck into the lifeboat.

said Catherine, with an effort something like the leap from the deck into the lifeboat.


"It would be too hard--impossible--you could not carry it through.

"It would be too hard - impossible - you could not carry it through.


I am not worth what you would have to encounter.


It would be thought a _msalliance_ for you and I should be liable to the worst accusations."

We should be liable to the worst accusations."


"Is it the accusations you are afraid of?


I am afraid of nothing but that we should miss the passing of our lives together."


The decisive word had been spoken: there was no doubt concerning the end willed by each: there only remained the way of arriving at it, and Catherine determined to take the straightest possible.


She went to her father and mother in the library, and told them that she had promised to marry Klesmer.


Mrs. Arrowpoint's state of mind was pitiable.


Imagine Jean Jacques, after his essay on the corrupting influence of the arts, waking up among children of nature who had no idea of grilling the raw bone they offered him for breakfast with the primitive couvert of a flint knife; or Saint Just, after fervidly denouncing all recognition of pre-eminence, receiving a vote of thanks for the unbroken mediocrity of his speech, which warranted the dullest patriots in delivering themselves at equal length.


Something of the same sort befell the authoress of "Tasso," when what she had safely demanded of the dead Leonora was enacted by her own Catherine.


It is hard for us to live up to our own eloquence, and keep pace with our winged words, while we are treading the solid earth and are liable to heavy dining.


Besides, it has long been understood that the proprieties of literature are not those of practical life.


Mrs. Arrowpoint naturally wished for the best of everything.


She not only liked to feel herself at a higher level of literary sentiment than the ladies with whom she associated; she wished not to be behind them in any point of social consideration.


While Klesmer was seen in the light of a patronized musician, his peculiarities were picturesque and acceptable: but to see him by a sudden flash in the light of her son-in-law gave her a burning sense of what the world would say.

While Klesmer was seen in the light of a patronized musician, his peculiarities were picturesque: but to see him in the light of her son-in-law gave her a burning sense of what the world would say.


And the poor lady had been used to represent her Catherine as a model of excellence.


Under the first shock she forgot everything but her anger, and snatched at any phrase that would serve as a weapon.

Under the first shock she snatched angrily at any phrase that would serve as a weapon.


"If Klesmer has presumed to offer himself to you, your father shall horsewhip him off the premises.


The father took his cigar from his mouth, and rose to the occasion by saying, "This will never do, Cath."


cried Mrs. Arrowpoint; "who in their senses ever thought it would do?


You might as well say poisoning and strangling will not do.


It is a comedy you have got up, Catherine. Else you are mad."


"I am quite sane and serious, mamma, and Herr Klesmer is not to blame.

"I am quite sane, mamma, and Herr Klesmer is not to blame.


I found out that he loved me, and loving him, I told him I would marry him."

I found out that he loved me, and told him I would marry him."


"Leave that unsaid, Catherine," said Mrs. Arrowpoint, bitterly.


Every one will say that you must have made an offer to a man who has been paid to come to the house--who is nobody knows what--a gypsy, a Jew, a mere bubble of the earth."

"Everyone will say that you have made an offer to a man who has been paid to come to the house - who is nobody knows what - a gypsy, a Jew."


"Never mind, mamma," said Catherine, indignant in her turn.

"No, mamma," said Catherine, indignant in her turn.


"We all know he is a genius--as Tasso was."

"We all know he is a genius, as Tasso was.


"Those times were not these, nor is Klesmer Tasso," said Mrs. Arrowpoint, getting more heated.


"There is no sting in _that_ sarcasm, except the sting of undutifulness."


"I am sorry to hurt you, mamma. But I will not give up the happiness of my life to ideas that I don't believe in and customs I have no respect for."

I am sorry to hurt you; but I will not give up the happiness of my life."


You have forgotten that you are our only child--that it lies with you to place a great property in the right hands?"

You have forgotten that as our only child, it lies with you to place a great property in the right hands?"


My grandfather gained the property in trade."


"Mr. Arrowpoint, _will_ you sit by and hear this without speaking?"

"Mr. Arrowpoint, will you sit by and hear this?"


We expect you to marry a gentleman," said the father, exerting himself.

"We expect you to marry a gentleman, Cath," said the father, exerting himself.


"And a man connected with the institutions of this country," said the mother. "A woman in your position has serious duties.

"A woman in your position has serious duties," said the mother.


"Where duty and inclination clash, she must follow duty."


"I don't deny that," said Catherine, getting colder in proportion to her mother's heat.


"But one may say very true things and apply them falsely. People can easily take the sacred word duty as a name for what they desire any one else to do."

"But people can easily use the word duty as a name for what they desire anyone else to do.


"Your parent's desire makes no duty for you, then?"


But before I give up the happiness of my life--"


"Catherine, Catherine, it will not be your happiness," said Mrs. Arrowpoint, in her most raven-like tones.

"It will not be your happiness," said Mrs. Arrowpoint, in her most raven-like tones.


"Well, what seems to me my happiness--before I give it up, I must see some better reason than the wish that I should marry a nobleman, or a man who votes with a party that he may be turned into a nobleman.

"Before I give it up, I must see some better reason than the wish that I should marry a nobleman.


I feel at liberty to marry the man I love and think worthy, unless some higher duty forbids."

I feel at liberty to marry the man I love, unless some higher duty forbids."


"And so it does, Catherine, though you are blinded and cannot see it.


It is a woman's duty not to lower herself.


Mr. Arrowpoint, will you tell your daughter what is her duty?"


"You must see, Catherine, that Klesmer is not the man for you," said Mr. Arrowpoint.


He has a deuced foreign look--is an unpractical man."


"I really can't see what that has to do with it, papa."


The land of England has often passed into the hands of foreigners--Dutch soldiers, sons of foreign women of bad character:--if our land were sold to-morrow it would very likely pass into the hands of some foreign merchant on 'Change.


It is in everybody's mouth that successful swindlers may buy up half the land in the country.


"It will never do to argue about marriage, Cath," said Mr. Arrowpoint.


"It's no use getting up the subject like a parliamentary question.


We must think of the nation and the public good."


"I can't see any public good concerned here, papa," said Catherine.


"Why is it to be expected of any heiress that she should carry the property gained in trade into the hands of a certain class?


That seems to be a ridiculous mishmash of superannuated customs and false ambition.


People had better make a new sort of public good by changing their ambitions."


"That is mere sophistry, Catherine," said Mrs. Arrowpoint.


"Because you don't wish to marry a nobleman, you are not obliged to marry a mountebank or a charlatan."

"Because you don't wish to marry a nobleman," said Mrs Arrowpoint, "you are not obliged to marry a mountebank."


"I cannot understand the application of such words, mamma."


"No, I dare say not," rejoined Mrs. Arrowpoint, with significant scorn.


"You have got to a pitch at which we are not likely to understand each other."


"It can't be done, Cath," said Mr. Arrowpoint, wishing to substitute a better-humored reasoning for his wife's impetuosity.

"It can't be done, Cath," said Mr. Arrowpoint, more good-humouredly.


"A man like Klesmer can't marry such a property as yours.


"It certainly will not be done," said Mrs. Arrowpoint, imperiously.


"I cannot fetch him to be insulted," said Catherine.


"I suppose you would wish him to know that in marrying you he will not marry your fortune," said Mrs. Arrowpoint.


"Certainly; if it were so, I should wish him to know it."


Catherine only went into the music-room and said, "Come."


"Herr Klesmer," said Mrs. Arrowpoint, with a rather contemptuous stateliness, "it is unnecessary to repeat what has passed between us and our daughter.


Mr. Arrowpoint will tell you our resolution."


"Your marrying is out of the question," said Mr. Arrowpoint, rather too heavily weighted with his task, and standing in an embarrassment unrelieved by a cigar.

"Your marrying is out of the question," said Mr. Arrowpoint, rather too heavily weighted with his task.


"You have taken a base advantage of our confidence," burst in Mrs. Arrowpoint, unable to carry out her purpose and leave the burden of speech to her husband.

"You have taken a base advantage of our confidence," burst in Mrs. Arrowpoint.


You had better give it up and leave the house at once," continued Mr. Arrowpoint.


He wished to do without mentioning the money.


"I can give up nothing without reference to your daughter's wish," said Klesmer.


"It is useless to discuss the question," said Mrs. Arrowpoint. "We shall never consent to the marriage.

"We shall never consent to the marriage," said Mrs Arrowpoint.


"If Catherine disobeys us we shall disinherit her."


"Madam, her fortune has been the only thing I have had to regret about her.


But I must ask her if she will not think the sacrifice greater than I am worthy of."


"It is no sacrifice to me," said Catherine, "except that I am sorry to hurt my father and mother."


I have always felt my fortune to be a wretched fatality of my life."


"I mean to marry Herr Klesmer," said Catherine, firmly.

"I mean to marry Herr Klesmer," said Catherine firmly.


"He had better not count on our relenting," said Mrs. Arrowpoint, whose manners suffered from that impunity in insult which has been reckoned among the privileges of women.

"He had better not count on our relenting," said Mrs. Arrowpoint.


"Madam," said Klesmer, "certain reasons forbid me to retort. But understand that I consider it out of the power of either of you, or of your fortune, to confer on me anything that I value.

"Madam," said Klesmer, "I consider it out of your power to confer on me anything that I value.


My rank as an artist is of my own winning, and I would not exchange it for any other.


I am able to maintain your daughter, and I ask for no change in my life but her companionship."


"You will leave the house, however," said Mrs. Arrowpoint.

"You will leave the house," said Mrs. Arrowpoint.


"I go at once," said Klesmer, bowing and quitting the room.


"Let there be no misunderstanding, mamma," said Catherine; "I consider myself engaged to Herr Klesmer, and I intend to marry him."


The mother turned her head away and waved her hand in sign of dismissal.

The mother turned away and waved her hand in sign of dismissal.


"It's all very fine," said Mr. Arrowpoint, when Catherine was gone; "but what the deuce are we to do with the property?"


"Harry Brendall will get through it all in no time," said Mr. Arrowpoint, relighting his cigar.


And thus, with nothing settled but the determination of the lovers, Klesmer had left Quetcham.


_Aspern._ Pardon, my lord--I speak for Sigismund.


Oh, ay--for him I always hold A pardon safe in bank, sure he will draw Sooner or later on me.


durance, assault on watch, Bill for Epernay, not a crust to eat?


_Aspern._ Oh, none of these, my lord; he has escaped From Circe's herd, and seeks to win the love Of your fair ward Cecilia: but would win First your consent.


In spite of Deronda's reasons for wishing to be in town again--reasons in which his anxiety for Mirah was blent with curiosity to know more of the enigmatic Mordecai--he did not manage to go up before Sir Hugo, who preceded his family that he might be ready for the opening of Parliament on the sixth of February.

In spite of Deronda's reasons for wishing to be in London again - anxiety for Mirah, combined with curiosity about Mordecai - he did not manage to go there before Sir Hugo, who went ahead of his family for the opening of Parliament in February.


Deronda took up his quarters in Park Lane, aware that his chambers were sufficiently tenanted by Hans Meyrick. This was what he expected; but he found other things not altogether according to his expectations.

Deronda took up his quarters in Park Lane, since his chambers were tenanted by Hans Meyrick - but he found things there not altogether according to his expectations.


Most of us remember Retzsch's drawing of destiny in the shape of Mephistopheles playing at chess with man for his soul, a game in which we may imagine the clever adversary making a feint of unintended moves so as to set the beguiled mortal on carrying his defensive pieces away from the true point of attack.


The fiend makes preparation his favorite object of mockery, that he may fatally persuade us against our taking out waterproofs when he is well aware the sky is going to clear, foreseeing that the imbecile will turn this delusion into a prejudice against waterproofs instead of giving a closer study to the weather-signs.


It is a peculiar test of a man's mettle when, after he has painfully adjusted himself to what seems a wise provision, he finds all his mental precaution a little beside the mark, and his excellent intentions no better than miscalculated dovetails, accurately cut from a wrong starting-point. His magnanimity has got itself ready to meet misbehavior, and finds quite a different call upon it.

It is a peculiar test of a man's mettle when, after painfully adjusting himself to a wise precaution, he finds he has missed the mark, so that quite a different call is made upon him to that which he expected.


Something of this kind happened to Deronda.
His first impression was one of pure pleasure and amusement at finding his sitting-room transformed into an _atelier_ strewed with miscellaneous drawings and with the contents of two chests from Rome, the lower half of the windows darkened with baize, and the blonde Hans in his weird youth as the presiding genius of the littered place--his hair longer than of old, his face more whimsically creased, and his high voice as usual getting higher under the excitement of rapid talk.

On visiting Hans, Deronda's first impression was one of pure pleasure and amusement, at finding his sitting-room transformed into a studio. It was strewn with drawings and the contents of the trunks from Rome, with Hans as the presiding genius of the littered place - his hair longer than before, his face more whimsically creased, and his high voice getting higher under the excitement of rapid talk.


The friendship of the two had been kept up warmly since the memorable Cambridge time, not only by correspondence but by little episodes of companionship abroad and in England, and the original relation of confidence on one side and indulgence on the other had been developed in practice, as is wont to be the case where such spiritual borrowing and lending has been well begun.


"I knew you would like to see my casts and antiquities," said Hans, after the first hearty greetings and inquiries, "so I didn't scruple to unlade my chests here.

"I knew you would like to see my casts and antiquities," said Hans, after the first hearty greetings, "but I didn't unload my chests here.


But I've found two rooms at Chelsea not many hundred yards from my mother and sisters, and I shall soon be ready to hang out there--when they've scraped the walls and put in some new lights.

I've found two rooms at Chelsea close to my mother and sisters, and I shall soon be ready to hang out there - when they've scraped the walls and put in some new lights.


But you see I don't wait to begin work: you can't conceive what a great fellow I'm going to be.

But you see I've already begun working: you can't conceive what a great fellow I'm going to be.


The seed of immortality has sprouted within me."


"Only a fungoid growth, I dare say--a growing disease in the lungs," said Deronda, accustomed to treat Hans in brotherly fashion.

"Only a fungoid growth, I dare say," said Deronda, accustomed to treat Hans in brotherly fashion.


He was walking toward some drawings propped on the ledge of his bookcases; five rapidly-sketched heads--different aspects of the same face.

He walked toward some drawings propped on the bookcases; five rapidly-sketched heads - different aspects of the same face.


He stood at a convenient distance from them, without making any remark.

He looked at them without making any remark.


Hans, too, was silent for a minute, took up his palette and began touching the picture on his easel.

Hans, too, was silent for a minute, and began touching up the picture on his easel.


"The full face looks too massive; otherwise the likenesses are good," said Deronda, more coldly than was usual with him.

"The full face looks too massive; otherwise the likenesses are good," said Deronda, somewhat coldly.


"No, it is not too massive," said Hans, decisively.


There is always a little surprise when one passes from the profile to the full face.


"But I shall enlarge her scale for Berenice.


I am making a Berenice series--look at the sketches along there--and now I think of it, you are just the model I want for the Agrippa."

I am making a Berenice series - there are the sketches - and you are just the model I want for Agrippa.


Hans, still with pencil and palette in hand, had moved to Deronda's side while he said this, but he added hastily, as if conscious of a mistake, "No, no, I forgot; you don't like sitting for your portrait, confound you!

No, I forgot; you don't like sitting for your portrait, confound you!


However, I've picked up a capital Titus.


The first is Berenice clasping the knees of Gessius Florus and beseeching him to spare her people; I've got that on the easel.


Then, this, where she is standing on the Xystus with Agrippa, entreating the people not to injure themselves by resistance."


"Agrippa's legs will never do," said Deronda.


"The legs are good realistically," said Hans, his face creasing drolly; "public men are often shaky about the legs--' Their legs, the emblem of their various thought,' as somebody says in the _Rehearsal._"

"The legs are realistic," said Hans; "public men are often shaky about the legs.


"But these are as impossible as the legs of Raphael's Alcibiades," said Deronda.


"Then they are good ideally," said Hans.


"Agrippa's legs were possibly bad; I idealize that and make them impossibly bad.


But never mind the legs now: the third sketch in the series is Berenice exulting in the prospects of being Empress of Rome, when the news has come that Vespasian is declared Emperor and her lover Titus his successor."

But never mind the legs: the third sketch is Berenice exulting in the prospects of being Empress of Rome, when the news has come that Vespasian is declared Emperor and her lover Titus his successor."


"You must put a scroll in her mouth, else people will not understand that."


"It will make them feel their ignorance then--an excellent sthetic effect.

"It will make them feel their ignorance then - an excellent sthetic effect.


The fourth is, Titus sending Berenice away from Rome after she has shared his palace for ten years--both reluctant, both sad--_invitus invitam_, as Suetonius hath it.

The fourth is, Titus sending Berenice away from Rome after she has shared his palace for ten years - both reluctant and sad."


I've found a model for the Roman brute."


"No, no; a few mature touches to show the lapse of time.


Dark-eyed beauty wears well, hers particularly.


But now, here is the fifth: Berenice seated lonely on the ruins of Jerusalem.


That is what ought to have been--perhaps was.

That is what ought to have been - perhaps was.


Now, see how I tell a pathetic negative.


Nobody knows what became of her--that is finely indicated by the series coming to a close.


Here Hans pretended to speak with a gasping sense of sublimity, and drew back his head with a frown, as if looking for a like impression on Deronda.


The story is chipped off, so to speak, and passes with a ragged edge into nothing--_le nant_; can anything be more sublime, especially in French?


The vulgar would desire to see her corpse and burial--perhaps her will read and her linen distributed.


But now come and look at this on the easel."


"That beseeching attitude is really good," said Deronda, after a moment's contemplation.


"You have been very industrious in the Christmas holidays; for I suppose you have taken up the subject since you came to London."

"You have been very industrious over Christmas; for I suppose you have taken up the subject since you came to London."


Neither of them had yet mentioned Mirah.


"No," said Hans, putting touches to his picture, "I made up my mind to the subject before.

"No," said Hans, "I decided on the subject before.


I take that lucky chance for an augury that I am going to burst on the world as a great painter.


I saw a splendid woman in the Trastevere--the grandest women there are half Jewesses--and she set me hunting for a fine situation of a Jewess at Rome.

I saw a splendid woman in the Trastevere - the grandest women there are half Jewesses - and she set me hunting for a fine subject of a Jewess at Rome.


Like other men of vast learning, I ended by taking what lay on the surface.


I'll show you a sketch of the Trasteverina's head when I can lay my hands on it."


"I should think she would be a more suitable model for Berenice," said Deronda, not knowing exactly how to express his discontent.


The model ought to be the most beautiful Jewess in the world, and I have found her."


"Have you made yourself sure that she would like to figure in that character?

"Are you sure that she would like to figure in that character?


I should think no woman would be more abhorrent to her.


Does she quite know what you are doing?"


I got her to throw herself precisely into this attitude.

I got her to throw herself into this attitude.


Little mother sat for Gessius Florus, and Mirah clasped her knees."


Here Hans went a little way off and looked at the effect of his touches.


"I dare say she knows nothing about Berenice's history," said Deronda, feeling more indignation than he would have been able to justify.

"I dare say she knows nothing about Berenice's history," said Deronda, with some indignation.


Berenice was a fervid patriot, but was beguiled by love and ambition into attaching herself to the arch-enemy of her people.


Mirah takes it as a tragic parable, and cries to think what the penitent Berenice suffered as she wandered back to Jerusalem and sat desolate amidst desolation.


I couldn't find it in my heart to tell her I invented that part of the story."


"Show me your Trasteverina," said Deronda, chiefly in order to hinder himself from saying something else.

"Show me your Trasteverina," said Deronda, chiefly in order to stop himself from saying something else.


"Shall you mind turning over that folio?" said Hans.


"My studies of heads are all there. But they are in confusion. You will perhaps find her next to a crop-eared undergraduate."
After Deronda had been turning over the drawings a minute or two, he said,
"These seem to be all Cambridge heads and bits of country.

"My portrait studies are all there, Cambridge heads and others all mixed up.


Perhaps I had better begin at the other end."


Oh, that's a man named Gascoigne--Rex Gascoigne.

"Oh, that's a man named Gascoigne - Rex Gascoigne.


An uncommonly good fellow; his upper lip, too, is good. I coached him before he got his scholarship.

An uncommonly good fellow; I coached him before he got his scholarship.


He ought to have taken honors last Easter.


But he was ill, and has had to stay up another year.

He was ill, and has had to stay up another year.


"Here she is, I suppose," said Deronda, holding up a sketch of the Trasteverina.


"Ah," said Hans, looking at it rather contemptuously, "too coarse.


Deronda was silent while he closed the folio, leaving the Trasteverina outside.

Deronda was silent while he closed the folio.


Then clasping his coat-collar, and turning toward Hans, he said, "I dare say my scruples are excessive, Meyrick, but I must ask you to oblige me by giving up this notion."

Then turning toward Hans, he said, "I dare say my scruples are excessive, Meyrick, but I must ask you to give up this notion."


Hans threw himself into a tragic attitude, and screamed, "What!

Hans threw himself into a tragic attitude, screaming, "What!


Think of what you are saying, man--destroying, as Milton says, not a life but an immortality.

Think of what you are saying, man - destroying not a life but an immortality.


Wait before you answer, that I may deposit the implements of my art and be ready to uproot my hair."

Wait, while I deposit the implements of my art and uproot my hair."


Here Hans laid down his pencil and palette, threw himself backward into a great chair, and hanging limply over the side, shook his long hair over his face, lifted his hooked fingers on each side his head, and looked up with comic terror at Deronda, who was obliged to smile, as he said,

Here Hans laid down his pencil, threw himself into a great chair, and shaking his long hair over his face, hooked his fingers onto it and looked up with comic terror at Deronda, who was obliged to smile, as he said-


"Paint as many Berenices as you like, but I wish you could feel with me--perhaps you will, on reflection--that you should choose another model."

"Paint as many Berenices as you like, but I wish you would choose another model."


said Hans, standing up, and looking serious again.


"Because she may get into such a position that her face is likely to be recognized.

"Because she may get into such a position that her face is recognized.


Mrs. Meyrick and I are anxious for her that she should be known as an admirable singer.

Mrs. Meyrick and I are anxious that she should be known as an admirable singer.


It is right, and she wishes it, that she should make herself independent.


One good introduction is secured already, and I am going to speak to Klesmer.


Her face may come to be very well known, and--well, it is useless to attempt to explain, unless you feel as I do. I believe that if Mirah saw the circumstances clearly, she would strongly object to being exhibited in this way--to allowing herself to be used as a model for a heroine of this sort."

Her face may come to be very well known, and I believe that if Mirah saw the circumstances clearly, she would strongly object to being exhibited in this way - to allowing herself to be used as a model for a heroine of this sort."


As Hans stood with his thumbs in the belt of his blouse, listening to this speech, his face showed a growing surprise melting into amusement, that at last would have its way in an explosive laugh: but seeing that Deronda looked gravely offended, he checked himself to say, "Excuse my laughing, Deronda.

As Hans stood with his thumbs in his belt, listening to this speech, his face showed surprise melting into amusement: but seeing that Deronda looked gravely offended, he said, "Excuse my laughing, Deronda.


You never gave me an advantage over you before.


If it had been about anything but my own pictures, I should have swallowed every word because you said it.


And so you actually believe that I should get my five pictures hung on the line in a conspicuous position, and carefully studied by the public?

So you actually believe that I could get my five pictures hung in a conspicuous position, and carefully studied by the public?


cider-cup and conceit never gave me half such a beautiful dream.


My pictures are likely to remain as private as the utmost hypersensitiveness could desire."

My pictures are likely to remain as private as you could desire."


Hans turned to paint again as a way of filling up awkward pauses.

Hans turned to paint again to fill up the awkward pause.


Deronda stood perfectly still, recognizing his mistake as to publicity, but also conscious that his repugnance was not much diminished.

Deronda stood still, recognizing his mistake as to publicity; but his repugnance was not diminished.


He was the reverse of satisfied either with himself or with Hans; but the power of being quiet carries a man well through moments of embarrassment.


Hans had a reverence for his friend which made him feel a sort of shyness at Deronda's being in the wrong; but it was not in his nature to give up anything readily, though it were only a whim--or rather, especially if it were a whim, and he presently went on, painting the while,

Hans presently went on, painting the while-


"But even supposing I had a public rushing after my pictures as if they were a railway series including nurses, babies and bonnet-boxes, I can't see any justice in your objection.

"Even supposing I had the public rushing after my pictures as if they were a railway series including nurses, babies and bonnet-boxes, I can't see any justice in your objection.


Every painter worth remembering has painted the face he admired most, as often as he could.

Every painter paints the face he admires most.


It is a part of his soul that goes out into his pictures.

Part of his soul goes out into his pictures.


He puts what he hates into a caricature.


He puts what he adores into some sacred, heroic form."


If a man could paint the woman he loves a thousand times as the _Stella Maris_ to put courage into the sailors on board a thousand ships, so much the more honor to her.


Isn't that better than painting a piece of staring immodesty and calling it by a worshipful name?"


"Every objection can be answered if you take broad ground enough, Hans: no special question of conduct can be properly settled in that way," said Deronda, with a touch of peremptoriness.

"Every objection can be answered by generalising, Hans," said Deronda, impatiently.


"I might admit all your generalities, and yet be right in saying you ought not to publish Mirah's face as a model for Berenice.

"I might admit your generalities, and yet be right in saying you ought not to publish Mirah's face.


But I give up the question of publicity. I was unreasonable there." Deronda hesitated a moment. "Still, even as a private affair, there might be good reasons for your not indulging yourself too much in painting her from the point of view you mention.

I was unreasonable about publicity; but there might be other good reasons for your not indulging yourself too much in painting her.


You must feel that her situation at present is a very delicate one; and until she is in more independence, she should be kept as carefully as a bit of Venetian glass, for fear of shaking her out of the safe place she is lodged in.

Her situation is very delicate; and until she is more independent, she should be carefully kept safe.


Are you quite sure of your own discretion?


My having found her binds me to watch over her.


"Perfectly," said Hans, turning his face into a good-humored smile.

"Perfectly," said Hans, putting on a good-humoured smile.


"You have the very justifiable opinion of me that I am likely to shatter all the glass in my way, and break my own skull into the bargain.


Since I got into the scrape of being born, everything I have liked best has been a scrape either for myself or somebody else.


Everything I have taken to heartily has somehow turned into a scrape.


My painting is the last scrape; and I shall be all my life getting out of it.

My painting is the latest scrape; and I shall be all my life getting out of it.


You think now I shall get into a scrape at home.


You think I must be over head and ears in love with Mirah.

You think I am head over heels in love with Mirah.


But you think I shall scream and plunge and spoil everything. There you are mistaken--excusably, but transcendently mistaken.

But if you think I shall scream and plunge and spoil everything, you are mistaken.


"You don't reckon a hopeless love among your scrapes, then," said Deronda, whose voice seemed to get deeper as Hans's went higher.


"I don't mean to call mine hopeless," said Hans, with provoking coolness, laying down his tools, thrusting his thumbs into his belt, and moving away a little, as if to contemplate his picture more deliberately.

"I don't mean to call mine hopeless," said Hans, with provoking coolness.


"My dear fellow, you are only preparing misery for yourself," said Deronda, decisively.

"My dear fellow, you are only preparing misery for yourself.


"She would not marry a Christian, even if she loved him.


Have you heard her--of course you have--heard her speak of her people and her religion?"

Have you heard her speak of her people and her religion?"


Every male of that race is insupportable--'insupportably advancing'--his nose."

Every male of that race is insupportable."


Her mother and brother are probably strict Jews."


"I'll turn proselyte, if she wishes it," said Hans, with a shrug and a laugh.


I thought you professed a serious love for her," said Deronda, getting heated.


"I know nothing; I can't tell what has happened.


But I can hardly imagine a greater surprise to me than that there should have seemed to be anything in Mirah's sentiments for you to found a romantic hope on."

"I can hardly imagine that there was anything in Mirah's sentiments for you to found a romantic hope on."


Deronda felt that he was too contemptuous.


"I don't found my romantic hopes on a woman's sentiments," said Hans, perversely inclined to be the merrier when he was addressed with gravity.

"I don't found my romantic hopes on a woman's sentiments," said Hans.


"I go to science and philosophy for my romance.


Nature designed Mirah to fall in love with me.


The amalgamation of races demands it--the mitigation of human ugliness demands it--the affinity of contrasts assures it.


I am the utmost contrast to Mirah--a bleached Christian, who can't sing two notes in tune.


You don't mean a word you say, Meyrick," said Deronda, laying his hand on Meyrick's shoulder, and speaking in a tone of cordial relief.

"You don't mean a word you say, Meyrick," said Deronda, laying his hand on his friend's shoulder.


"I was a wiseacre to answer you seriously."


"Upon my honor I do mean it, though," said Hans, facing round and laying his left hand on Deronda's shoulder, so that their eyes fronted each other closely.

"Upon my honour I do mean it, though," said Hans, in turn laying his hand on Deronda's shoulder.


I meant to tell you as soon as you came.


My mother says you are Mirah's guardian, and she thinks herself responsible to you for every breath that falls on Mirah in her house.


Well, I love her--I worship her--I won't despair--I mean to deserve her."

Well, I worship her - I won't despair - I mean to deserve her."


"My dear fellow, you can't do it," said Deronda, quickly.


You used to resolve what you would do for your mother and sisters."


"You have a right to reproach me, old fellow," said Hans, gently.


"Perhaps I am ungenerous," said Deronda, not apologetically, however. "Yet it can't be ungenerous to warn you that you are indulging mad, Quixotic expectations."

"Perhaps I am ungenerous, but I warn you that you are indulging mad, Quixotic expectations."


"I am not going to say anything to her unless I felt sure of the answer.

"I am not going to say anything to her unless I am sure of the answer.


I dare not ask the oracles: I prefer a cheerful caliginosity, as Sir Thomas Browne might say.


I would rather run my chance there and lose, than be sure of winning anywhere else.


And I don't mean to swallow the poison of despair, though you are disposed to thrust it on me.


I am giving up wine, so let me get a little drunk on hope and vanity."


"With all my heart, if it will do you any good," said Deronda, loosing Hans's shoulder, with a little push. He made his tone kindly, but his words were from the lip only.

"With all my heart, if it will do you any good," said Deronda, making his tone kindly, as he loosed Hans's shoulder with a little push.


He was conscious of that peculiar irritation which will sometimes befall the man whom others are inclined to trust as a mentor--the irritation of perceiving that he is supposed to be entirely off the same plane of desire and temptation as those who confess to him.

He was conscious of that irritation which sometimes befalls the man whom others trust as a mentor - the irritation of perceiving that he is supposed to be entirely off the same plane of desire and temptation as those who confess to him.


Our guides, we pretend, must be sinless: as if those were not often the best teachers who only yesterday got corrected for their mistakes.

Our guides, we pretend, must be sinless.


Throughout their friendship Deronda had been used to Hans's egotism, but he had never before felt intolerant of it: when Hans, habitually pouring out his own feelings and affairs, had never cared for any detail in return, and, if he chanced to know any, had soon forgotten it. Deronda had been inwardly as well as outwardly indulgent--nay, satisfied.

Deronda had grown used to Hans's egotism, but he had never before felt intolerant of it. When Hans poured out his own feelings, and never cared for any detail in return, Deronda had been indulgent.


But now he had noted with some indignation, all the stronger because it must not be betrayed, Hans's evident assumption that for any danger of rivalry or jealousy in relation to Mirah, Deronda was not as much out of the question as the angel Gabriel.

But now he was indignant at Hans's assumption that as far as rivalry over Mirah was concerned, Deronda was as much out of the question as the angel Gabriel.


It is one thing to be resolute in placing one's self out of the question, and another to endure that others should perform that exclusion for us.


He had expected that Hans would give him trouble: what he had not expected was that the trouble would have a strong element of personal feeling.

He had expected that Hans would give him trouble: what he had not expected was that the trouble would make him feel so strongly.


And he was rather ashamed that Hans's hopes caused him uneasiness in spite of his well-warranted conviction that they would never be fulfilled.

And he was rather ashamed that Hans's hopes caused him uneasiness.


They had raised an image of Mirah changing; and however he might protest that the change would not happen, the protest kept up the unpleasant image.

They had raised an unpleasant image of Mirah changing.


Altogether poor Hans seemed to be entering into Deronda's experience in a disproportionate manner--going beyond his part of rescued prodigal, and rousing a feeling quite distinct from compassionate affection.


When Deronda went to Chelsea he was not made as comfortable as he ought to have been by Mrs. Meyrick's evident release from anxiety about the beloved but incalculable son.

When Deronda went to Chelsea he was not comforted by Mrs. Meyrick's lack of anxiety about her son.


Mirah seemed livelier than before, and for the first time he saw her laugh. It was when they were talking of Hans, he being naturally the mother's first topic. Mirah wished to know if Deronda had seen Mr. Hans going through a sort of character piece without changing his dress.

Mirah seemed livelier than before, and for the first time he saw her laugh, as she described Hans play-acting.


"He passes from one figure to another as if he were a bit of flame where you fancied the figures without seeing them," said Mirah, full of her subject; "he is so wonderfully quick.

"He is so wonderfully quick," said Mirah.


I used never to like comic things on the stage--they were dwelt on too long; but all in one minute Mr. Hans makes himself a blind bard, and then Rienzi addressing the Romans, and then an opera-dancer, and then a desponding young gentleman--I am sorry for them all, and yet I laugh, all in one"--here Mirah gave a little laugh that might have entered into a song.

"I used never to like comic things on the stage; but all in one minute Mr. Hans makes himself a blind bard, and then an opera-dancer, and then a desponding young gentleman - I am sorry for them, and yet I laugh."


"We hardly thought that Mirah could laugh till Hans came," said Mrs. Meyrick, seeing that Deronda, like herself, was observing the pretty picture.

"We hardly thought that Mirah could laugh till Hans came," said Mrs. Meyrick.


"Hans seems in great force just now," said Deronda in a tone of congratulation.


"He's been just perfect ever since he came back," said Mrs. Meyrick, keeping to herself the next clause--"if it will but last."

"He's been just perfect ever since he came back," said Mrs. Meyrick.


"It is a great happiness," said Mirah, "to see the son and brother come into this dear home. And I hear them all talk about what they did together when they were little.

"It is a great happiness," said Mirah, "to see the son and brother come into this dear home, and to hear them all talk about what they did together when they were little.


That seems like heaven, and to have a mother and brother who talk in that way.

That seems like heaven, to have a mother and brother who talk in that way.


The last words were uttered with a serious ardor as if they had been part of a litany, while her eyes were fixed on Deronda, who with his elbow on the back of his chair was contemplating her by the new light of the impression she had made on Hans, and the possibility of her being attracted by that extraordinary contrast.

The last words were uttered with a serious ardour, while her eyes were fixed on Deronda, who was contemplating her by the new light of Hans's worship, and the possibility of her being attracted to his friend.


It was no more than what had happened on each former visit of his, that Mirah appeared to enjoy speaking of what she felt very much as a little girl fresh from school pours forth spontaneously all the long-repressed chat for which she has found willing ears.


For the first time in her life Mirah was among those whom she entirely trusted, and her original visionary impression that Deronda was a divinely-sent messenger hung about his image still, stirring always anew the disposition to reliance and openness.

For the first time in her life Mirah was among those whom she trusted, and her original vision of Deronda as a divinely-sent messenger hung about him still.


It was in this way she took what might have been the injurious flattery of admiring attention into which her helpless dependence had been suddenly transformed.


Every one around her watched for her looks and words, and the effect on her was simply that of having passed from a trifling imprisonment into an exhilarating air which made speech and action a delight.

She felt that she had passed from imprisonment into an exhilarating air which made speech and action a delight.


To her mind it was all a gift from others' goodness.


But that word of Deronda's implying that there had been some lack in his life which might be compared with anything she had known in hers, was an entirely new inlet of thought about him.

But Deronda's implying that there had been some lack in his life comparable to hers, was an entirely new inlet of thought about him.


After her first expression of sorrowful surprise she went on,


"But Mr. Hans said yesterday that you thought so much of others you hardly wanted anything for yourself.

"Mr. Hans said yesterday that you thought so much of others you hardly wanted anything for yourself.


He told us a wonderful story of Buddha giving himself to the famished tigress to save her and her little ones from starving.


"Pray don't imagine that," said Deronda, who had lately been finding such suppositions rather exasperating.

"Pray don't imagine that," said Deronda, rather exasperated.


"Even if it were true that I thought so much of others, it would not follow that I had no wants for myself.

"Even if it were true that I thought so much of others, it would not follow that I had no wants.


When Buddha let the tigress eat him he might have been very hungry himself."


"Perhaps if he was starved he would not mind so much about being eaten," said Mab, shyly.

"Perhaps if he was starved he would not mind about being eaten," said Mab, shyly.


"Please don't think that, Mab; it takes away the beauty of the action," said Mirah.


said the rational Amy, having a half-holiday from her teaching; "you always take what is beautiful as if it were true."

said the rational Amy; "you always take what is beautiful as if it were true."


"If people have thought what is the most beautiful and the best thing, it must be true.


"I understand her," said Deronda, coming to the rescue.


"It is a truth in thought though it may never have been carried out in action.


He turned to Mirah, who was listening with a blind look in her lovely eyes.


"It must be that, because you understand me, but I cannot quite explain," said Mirah, rather abstractedly--still searching for some expression.

"It must be that, because you understand me, but I cannot quite explain," said Mirah, rather abstractedly.


"But _was_ it beautiful for Buddha to let the tiger eat him?"

"But was it beautiful for Buddha to let the tiger eat him?"


"The world would get full of fat tigers," said Mab.


"It is like a passionate word," he said; "the exaggeration is a flash of fervor.


It is an extreme image of what is happening every day--the transmutation of self."


"I think I can say what I mean, now," said Mirah, who had not heard the intermediate talk.


"When the best thing comes into our thoughts, it is like what my mother has been to me.

"When the best thing comes into our thoughts, it is like what my mother has been to me," said Mirah.


She has been just as really with me as all the other people about me--often more really with me."


Deronda, inwardly wincing under this illustration, which brought other possible realities about that mother vividly before him, presently turned the conversation by saying, "But we must not get too far away from practical matters. I came, for one thing, to tell of an interview I had yesterday, which I hope Mirah will find to have been useful to her. It was with Klesmer, the great pianist."

Deronda, inwardly wincing as he thought of other possibilities about that mother, turned the conversation, saying, "I came to tell you of an interview I had yesterday with Klesmer, the great pianist.


He is very much occupied, but has promised to fix a time for receiving and hearing Miss Lapidoth, as we must learn to call her"--here Deronda smiled at Mirah--"If she consents to go to him."

He has promised to fix a time for hearing Miss Lapidoth, if she consents."


"He wants to hear me sing, before he can judge whether I ought to be helped."


Deronda was struck with her plain sense about these matters of practical concern.

Deronda was struck with her plain sense and practicality.


"It will not be at all trying to you, I hope, if Mrs. Meyrick will kindly go with you to Klesmer's house."


I have been doing that all my life--I mean, told to do things that others may judge of me.


And I have gone through a bad trial of that sort.


I am prepared to bear it, and do some very small thing.


"He is peculiar, but I have not had experience enough of him to know whether he would be what you would call severe."

"He is peculiar, but I do not know if you would call him severe.


"I know he is kind-hearted--kind in action, if not in speech."

He is kind in action, if not in speech."


"I have been used to be frowned at and not praised," said Mirah.


"By the by, Klesmer frowns a good deal," said Deronda, "but there is often a sort of smile in his eyes all the while. Unhappily he wears spectacles, so you must catch him in the right light to see the smile."

"Klesmer frowns a good deal," said Deronda, "but with a sort of smile in his eyes, if you can catch it."


"I shall not be frightened," said Mirah.


"If he were like a roaring lion, he only wants me to sing.


"Then I feel sure you will not mind being invited to sing in Lady Mallinger's drawing-room," said Deronda.


"She intends to ask you next month, and will invite many ladies to hear you, who are likely to want lessons from you for their daughters."


"You never thought of getting grand so quickly, Mirah."


"I am a little frightened at being called Miss Lapidoth," said Mirah, coloring with a new uneasiness.

"I am a little frightened at being called Miss Lapidoth," said Mirah, with a new uneasiness.


"I understand you," said Deronda, promptly.


"But I assure you, you must not be called Cohen.


This is one of the trifles in which we must conform to vulgar prejudice.


We could choose some other name, however--such as singers ordinarily choose--an Italian or Spanish name, which would suit your _physique_."

We could choose some other name, however: an Italian or Spanish name, which would suit your looks."


To Deronda just now the name Cohen was equivalent to the ugliest of yellow badges.


Mirah reflected a little, anxiously, then said, "No.

Mirah reflected anxiously, then said, "No.


If Cohen will not do, I will keep the name I have been called by.


And now--if my father were very miserable and wanted help--no," she said, looking at Mrs. Meyrick, "I should think, then, that he was perhaps crying as I used to see him, and had nobody to pity him, and I had hidden myself from him.

And now - if my father were very miserable and wanted help," she said, looking at Mrs. Meyrick, "I should think, then, that I had hidden myself from him.


Others that made friends with him always left him."


"Keep to what you feel right, my dear child," said Mrs. Meyrick.

"Do what you feel right, my dear child," said Mrs. Meyrick.


"_I_ would not persuade you to the contrary."


For her own part she had no patience or pity for that father, and would have left him to his crying.

For her own part she had no patience or pity for that father.


Deronda was saying to himself, "I am rather base to be angry with Hans.

Deronda thought, "I should not be angry with Hans.


But it is too absurdly presumptuous for him even to frame the idea of appropriating her, and a sort of blasphemy to suppose that she could possibly give herself to him."

But it is too absurd for him even to think of marrying her, and a sort of blasphemy to suppose that she could possibly give herself to him."


What would it be for Daniel Deronda to entertain such thoughts?

What would it be for Daniel Deronda to entertain such hopes?


He was not one who could quite naively introduce himself where he had just excluded his friend, yet it was undeniable that what had just happened made a new stage in his feeling toward Mirah.

He could not naively introduce himself where he had just excluded his friend, yet it was undeniable that he had reached a new stage in his feeling toward Mirah.


But apart from other grounds for self-repression, reasons both definite and vague made him shut away that question as he might have shut up a half-opened writing that would have carried his imagination too far, and given too much shape to presentiments.

But reasons both definite and vague made him shut away that question.


Might there not come a disclosure which would hold the missing determination of his course? What did he really know about his origin?

What did he really know about his origin? What was his destination?


Strangely in these latter months when it seemed right that he should exert his will in the choice of a destination, the passion of his nature had got more and more locked by this uncertainty.

Strangely, in these latter months when it seemed right that he should choose a destination, he had become more and more locked in by this uncertainty.


The disclosure might bring its pain, indeed the likelihood seemed to him to be all on that side; but if it helped him to make his life a sequence which would take the form of duty--if it saved him from having to make an arbitrary selection where he felt no preponderance of desire?


Still more, he wanted to escape standing as a critic outside the activities of men, stiffened into the ridiculous attitude of self-assigned superiority.


His chief tether was his early inwrought affection for Sir Hugo, making him gratefully deferential to wishes with which he had little agreement: but gratitude had been sometimes disturbed by doubts which were near reducing it to a fear of being ungrateful.

His chief tether was his early affection for Sir Hugo: he was gratefully deferential to his wishes, while not agreeing with them; but now his doubts were close to making him ungrateful.


Many of us complain that half our birthright is sharp duty: Deronda was more inclined to complain that he was robbed of this half; yet he accused himself, as he would have accused another, of being weakly self-conscious and wanting in resolve.

He accused himself of being weakly self-conscious and wanting in resolve.


He was the reverse of that type painted for us in Faulconbridge and Edmund of Gloster, whose coarse ambition for personal success is inflamed by a defiance of accidental disadvantages.


To Daniel the words Father and Mother had the altar-fire in them; and the thought of all closest relations of our nature held still something of the mystic power which had made his neck and ears burn in boyhood.

To Daniel the words Father and Mother still held the mystic power which had made his neck and ears burn in boyhood.


The average man may regard this sensibility on the question of birth as preposterous and hardly credible; but with the utmost respect for his knowledge as the rock from which all other knowledge is hewn, it must be admitted that many well-proved facts are dark to the average man, even concerning the action of his own heart and the structure of his own retina. A century ago he and all his forefathers had not had the slightest notion of that electric discharge by means of which they had all wagged their tongues mistakenly; any more than they were awake to the secluded anguish of exceptional sensitiveness into which many a carelessly-begotten child of man is born.

The average man may regard this sensitivity on the question of birth as preposterous; but the average man does not even understand the action of his own heart and the structure of his own retina, let alone his mind.


Perhaps the ferment was all the stronger in Deronda's mind because he had never had a confidant to whom he could open himself on these delicate subjects.

Perhaps Deronda struggled all the more because he had never had a confidant to speak openly to on these delicate subjects.


He had always been leaned on instead of being invited to lean.


Sometimes he had longed for the sort of friend to whom he might possibly unfold his experience: a young man like himself who sustained a private grief and was not too confident about his own career; speculative enough to understand every moral difficulty, yet socially susceptible, as he himself was, and having every outward sign of equality either in bodily or spiritual wrestling--for he had found it impossible to reciprocate confidences with one who looked up to him.

Sometimes he had longed for the sort of friend to whom he might unfold his experience: a young man like himself who had sustained a private grief and was not too confident about his own career.


But he had no expectation of meeting the friend he imagined.


Deronda's was not one of those quiveringly-poised natures that lend themselves to second-sight.

Deronda's was not one of those natures that lend themselves to second-sight.


"I pity the man who can travel from Dan to Beersheba, and say, 'Tis all barren': and so it is: and so is all the world to him who will not cultivate the fruits it offers."


To say that Deronda was romantic would be to misrepresent him; but under his calm and somewhat self-repressed exterior there was a fervor which made him easily find poetry and romance among the events of every-day life.

To say that Deronda was romantic would be to misrepresent him; but under his calm and somewhat self-repressed exterior there was a fervour which easily found poetry and romance among the events of everyday life.


And perhaps poetry and romance are as plentiful as ever in the world except for those phlegmatic natures who I suspect would in any age have regarded them as a dull form of erroneous thinking.


They exist very easily in the same room with the microscope and even in railway carriages: what banishes them in the vacuum in gentlemen and lady passengers.


How should all the apparatus of heaven and earth, from the farthest firmament to the tender bosom of the mother who nourished us, make poetry for a mind that had no movements of awe and tenderness, no sense of fellowship which thrills from the near to the distant, and back again from the distant to the near?


To Deronda this event of finding Mirah was as heart-stirring as anything that befell Orestes or Rinaldo.

To him this event of finding Mirah was heart-stirring.


He sat up half the night, living again through the moments since he had first discerned Mirah on the river-brink, with the fresh and fresh vividness which belongs to emotive memory.

He sat up half the night, living again the moments since he had first seen Mirah on the river-brink, with the fresh vividness of emotive memory.


When he took up a book to try and dull this urgency of inward vision, the printed words were no more than a network through which he saw and heard everything as clearly as before--saw not only the actual events of two hours, but possibilities of what had been and what might be which those events were enough to feed with the warm blood of passionate hope and fear.

When he took up a book, the printed words were no more than a network through which he saw and heard everything as clearly as before - not only the actual events, but possibilities of what had been and what might be, imagined with hope and fear.


Something in his own experience caused Mirah's search after her mother to lay hold with peculiar force on his imagination.

Something in his own experience caused Mirah's search for her mother to grip his imagination.


The first prompting of sympathy was to aid her in her search: if given persons were extant in London there were ways of finding them, as subtle as scientific experiment, the right machinery being set at work.

His first sympathetic instinct was to aid her in her search: there were ways of finding people in London.


But here the mixed feelings which belonged to Deronda's kindred experience naturally transfused themselves into his anxiety on behalf of Mirah.

But here the mixed feelings of Deronda's own experience naturally transfused themselves into his anxiety for Mirah.


The desire to know his own mother, or to know about her, was constantly haunted with dread; and in imagining what might befall Mirah it quickly occurred to him that finding the mother and brother from whom she had been parted when she was a little one might turn out to be a calamity.

His desire to know his own mother, or to know about her, was constantly haunted with dread; and in imagining Mirah's mother and brother, it quickly occurred to him that finding them might turn out to be a calamity.


When she was in the boat she said that her mother and brother were good; but the goodness might have been chiefly in her own ignorant innocence and yearning memory, and the ten or twelve years since the parting had been time enough for much worsening.

In the boat, she had said that her mother and brother were good; but the goodness might have been chiefly in her own ignorant innocence and longing; and it was ten or twelve years since she had seen them.


Spite of his strong tendency to side with the objects of prejudice, and in general with those who got the worst of it, his interest had never been practically drawn toward existing Jews, and the facts he knew about them, whether they walked conspicuous in fine apparel or lurked in by-streets, were chiefly of a sort most repugnant to him.

Despite his strong tendency to side with the objects of prejudice, Deronda's interest had never been drawn toward Jews, and the facts he knew about them were chiefly of a sort repugnant to him.


Of learned and accomplished Jews he took it for granted that they had dropped their religion, and wished to be merged in the people of their native lands.

Of learned and accomplished Jews he took it for granted that they had dropped their religion to merge in with the people of their native lands.


Scorn flung at a Jew as such would have roused all his sympathy in griefs of inheritance; but the indiscriminate scorn of a race will often strike a specimen who has well earned it on his own account, and might fairly be gibbeted as a rascally son of Adam. It appears that the Caribs, who know little of theology, regard thieving as a practice peculiarly connected with Christian tenets, and probably they could allege experimental grounds for this opinion. Deronda could not escape (who can?)

Scorn flung at a Jew as such would have roused all his sympathy; but Deronda could not escape (who can?)


knowing ugly stories of Jewish characteristics and occupations; and though one of his favorite protests was against the severance of past and present history, he was like others who shared his protest, in never having cared to reach any more special conclusions about actual Jews than that they retained the virtues and vices of a long-oppressed race.

knowing ugly stories of Jewish characteristics and occupations; and he had never cared to reach any more special conclusions about actual Jews than that they retained the virtues and vices of a long-oppressed race.


But now that Mirah's longing roused his mind to a closer survey of details, very disagreeable images urged themselves of what it might be to find out this middle-aged Jewess and her son.

But now that Mirah's longing roused his mind, very disagreeable images urged themselves of what this middle-aged Jewess and her son might be.


To be sure, there was the exquisite refinement and charm of the creature herself to make a presumption in favor of her immediate kindred, but--he must wait to know more: perhaps through Mrs. Meyrick he might gather some guiding hints from Mirah's own lips.

To be sure, Mirah's refinement and charm were in their favour, but - he must wait to know more: perhaps through Mrs. Meyrick.


Her voice, her accent, her looks--all the sweet purity that clothed her as with a consecrating garment made him shrink the more from giving her, either ideally or practically, an association with what was hateful or contaminating.

Mirah's voice, her accent, her looks - all the sweet purity that clothed her like a consecrating garment made him shrink from associating her with anything hateful or contaminating.


But these fine words with which we fumigate and becloud unpleasant facts are not the language in which we think.


Deronda's thinking went on in rapid images of what might be: he saw himself guided by some official scout into a dingy street; he entered through a dim doorway, and saw a hawk-eyed woman, rough-headed, and unwashed, cheapening a hungry girl's last bit of finery; or in some quarter only the more hideous for being smarter, he found himself under the breath of a young Jew talkative and familiar, willing to show his acquaintance with gentlemen's tastes, and not fastidious in any transactions with which they would favor him--and so on through the brief chapter of his experience in this kind.

In his mind's eye flashed rapid images of what might be: he saw himself guided down a dingy street; entering through a dim doorway, he saw a hawk-eyed woman, unwashed, cheapening a hungry girl's last bit of finery; or in some other quarter he saw a young Jew talkative and familiar, willing to show his acquaintance with gentlemen's tastes, and not fastidious about any business - and so on, through his brief experience of this kind.


Excuse him: his mind was not apt to run spontaneously into insulting ideas, or to practice a form of wit which identifies Moses with the advertisement sheet; but he was just now governed by dread, and if Mirah's parents had been Christian, the chief difference would have been that his forebodings would have been fed with wider knowledge.

Excuse him: his mind was not apt to run spontaneously into insulting ideas; but he was just now governed by dread, and if Mirah's parents had been Christian, the chief difference would have been that his forebodings would have been fed with wider knowledge.


It was the habit of his mind to connect dread with unknown parentage, and in this case as well as his own there was enough to make the connection reasonable.

It was the habit of his mind to connect dread with unknown parentage, and in this case as well as his own there was enough uncertainty to make the connection reasonable.


She needed shelter and protection in the fullest sense, and all his chivalrous sentiment roused itself to insist that the sooner and the more fully he could engage for her the interest of others besides himself, the better he should fulfill her claims on him.

She needed shelter and protection in the fullest sense, and his chivalrous nature felt that the sooner he could engage for her the interest of others besides himself, the better.


He had no right to provide for her entirely, though he might be able to do so; the very depth of the impression she had produced made him desire that she should understand herself to be entirely independent of him; and vague visions of the future which he tried to dispel as fantastic left their influence in an anxiety stronger than any motive he could give for it, that those who saw his actions closely should be acquainted from the first with the history of his relation to Mirah.

He had no right to provide for her entirely, though he might be able to do so; he wished that she should understand herself to be entirely independent of him; and vague visions of the future which he tried to dispel as fantastic made him anxious that his friends should be acquainted from the first with the history of his relation to Mirah.


He had learned to hate secrecy about the grand ties and obligations of his life--to hate it the more because a strong spell of interwoven sensibilities hindered him from breaking such secrecy.

He had learned to hate secrecy about the ties and obligations of his life - to hate it the more because he felt unable to break such secrecy.


Deronda had made a vow to himself that--since the truths which disgrace mortals are not all of their own making--the truth should never be made a disgrace to another by his act.


He was not without terror lest he should break this vow, and fall into the apologetic philosophy which explains the world into containing nothing better than one's own conduct.


At one moment he resolved to tell the whole of his adventure to Sir Hugo and Lady Mallinger the next morning at breakfast, but the possibility that something quite new might reveal itself on his next visit to Mrs. Meyrick's checked this impulse, and he finally went to sleep on the conclusion that he would wait until that visit had been made.

At one moment he resolved to tell the whole adventure to Sir Hugo and Lady Mallinger the next morning, but the possibility that something new might reveal itself on his next visit to Mrs. Meyrick's checked this impulse. He finally went to sleep having decided that he would wait until that visit had been made.


"Moses, trotz seiner Befeindung der Kunst, dennoch selber ein groer Knstler war und den wahren Knstlergeist besa.


Nur war dieser Knstlergeist bei ihm, wie bei seinen gyptischen Landsleuten, nur auf das Kolossale und Unverwstliche gerichtet.


Aber nicht wie die gypter formierte er seine Kunstwerke aus Backstein und Gra- nit, sondern er baute Menschenpyramiden, er meisselte Menschenobelisken, er nahm einen armen Hirten- stamm und schuf daraus ein Volk, das ebenfalls den Jahrhunderten trotzen sollte . .


Imagine the difference in Deronda's state of mind when he left England and when he returned to it.

Imagine the difference in Deronda's state of mind when he left England and when he returned.


He had set out for Genoa in total uncertainty how far the actual bent of his wishes and affections would be encouraged--how far the claims revealed to him might draw him into new paths, far away from the tracks his thoughts had lately been pursuing with a consent of desire which uncertainty made dangerous.

He had set out for Genoa in total uncertainty of how far his wishes would be encouraged.


He came back with something like a discovered charter warranting the inherited right that his ambition had begun to yearn for: he came back with what was better than freedom--with a duteous bond which his experience had been preparing him to accept gladly, even if it had been attended with no promise of satisfying a secret passionate longing never yet allowed to grow into a hope.

He came back with the inheritance that he had begun to yearn for: with what was better than freedom - with a bond which he accepted gladly, even if it offered no promise of satisfying a secret passionate longing never yet allowed to grow into a hope.


But now he dared avow to himself the hidden selection of his love.

But now he dared avow to himself his hidden love.


Since the hour when he left the house at Chelsea in full-hearted silence under the effect of Mirah's farewell look and words--their exquisite appealingness stirring in him that deep-laid care for womanhood which had begun when his own lip was like a girl's--her hold on his feeling had helped him to be blameless in word and deed under the difficult circumstances we know of.

Since the hour when he left the house at Chelsea in silence after Mirah's farewell look and words - stirring in him his habitual deep-laid care for womanhood - her hold on his feeling had helped him to be blameless in word and deed under the difficult circumstances we know of.


There seemed no likelihood that he could ever woo this creature who had become dear to him amidst associations that forbade wooing; yet she had taken her place in his soul as a beloved type--reducing the power of other fascination and making a difference in it that became deficiency.

There seemed no likelihood that he could ever woo Mirah; yet she had taken her place in his soul, reducing the power of other fascination and making a difference in it that became deficiency.


The influence had been continually strengthened.


It had lain in the course of poor Gwendolen's lot that her dependence on Deronda tended to rouse in him the enthusiasm of self-martyring pity rather than of personal love, and his less constrained tenderness flowed with the fuller stream toward an indwelling image in all things unlike Gwendolen.

Poor Gwendolen's dependence on Deronda tended to rouse in him self-martyring pity rather than love, and his tenderness dwelt on an image in all things unlike Gwendolen.


Still more, his relation to Mordecai had brought with it a new nearness to Mirah which was not the less agitating because there was no apparent change in his position toward her; and she had inevitably been bound up in all the thoughts that made him shrink from an issue disappointing to her brother.

His relation to Mordecai had brought a new nearness to Mirah which was agitating, not less because there was no apparent change in his position toward her; and she had been bound up in his thoughts about his parentage.


This process had not gone on unconsciously in Deronda: he was conscious of it as we are of some covetousness that it would be better to nullify by encouraging other thoughts than to give it the insistency of confession even to ourselves: but the jealous fire had leaped out at Hans's pretensions, and when his mother accused him of being in love with a Jewess any evasion suddenly seemed an infidelity.

Deronda had been conscious of this process, but the jealous fire had leaped out at Hans's pretensions, and when his mother accused him of being in love with a Jewess any evasion suddenly seemed an infidelity.


His mother had compelled him to a decisive acknowledgment of his love, as Joseph Kalonymos had compelled him to a definite expression of his resolve.

His mother had compelled him to an acknowledgment of his love, as Joseph Kalonymos had compelled him to a definite resolve.


This new state of decision wrought on Deronda with a force which surprised even himself.

This new state of decision acted on Deronda with a force which surprised even himself.


There was a release of all the energy which had long been spent in self-checking and suppression because of doubtful conditions; and he was ready to laugh at his own impetuosity when, as he neared England on his way from Mainz, he felt the remaining distance more and more of an obstruction. It was as if he had found an added soul in finding his ancestry--his judgment no longer wandering in the mazes of impartial sympathy, but choosing, with that partiality which is man's best strength, the closer fellowship that makes sympathy practical--exchanging that bird's eye reasonableness which soars to avoid preference and loses all sense of quality for the generous reasonableness of drawing shoulder to shoulder with men of like inheritance.

There was a release of energy: it was as if he had found an added soul in finding his ancestry, which drew him shoulder to shoulder with men of like inheritance.


He wanted now to be again with Mordecai, to pour forth instead of restraining his feeling, to admit agreement and maintain dissent, and all the while to find Mirah's presence without the embarrassment of obviously seeking it, to see her in the light of a new possibility, to interpret her looks and words from a new starting-point.

He wanted to be again with Mordecai, to pour forth instead of restraining his feeling, to admit agreement and maintain dissent, and also to see Mirah without the embarrassment of seeking her, to interpret her looks and words from a new starting-point.


He was not greatly alarmed about the effect of Hans's attentions, but he had a presentiment that her feeling toward himself had from the first lain in a channel from which it was not likely to be diverted into love.

He was not greatly alarmed about Hans's attentions, but he had a presentiment that her feelings toward himself did not include love.


To astonish a woman by turning into her lover when she has been thinking of you merely as a Lord Chancellor is what a man naturally shrinks from: he is anxious to create an easier transition.

To astonish a woman by turning into her lover when she has been thinking of you merely as a Lord Chancellor is what a man naturally shrinks from.


What wonder that Deronda saw no other course than to go straight from the London railway station to the lodgings in that small square in Brompton?

What wonder that Deronda went straight from the London railway station to the lodgings in that small square in Brompton?


Every argument was in favor of his losing no time. He had promised to run down the next day to see Lady Mallinger at the Abbey, and it was already sunset. He wished to deposit the precious chest with Mordecai, who would study its contents, both in his absence and in company with him; and that he should pay this visit without pause would gratify Mordecai's heart.

He wished to lose no time, but to deposit the precious chest with Mordecai: and that he should pay this visit without pause would gratify Mordecai's heart.


Hence, and for other reasons, it gratified Deronda's heart.


The strongest tendencies of his nature were rushing in one current--the fervent affectionateness which made him delight in meeting the wish of beings near to him, and the imaginative need of some far-reaching relation to make the horizon of his immediate, daily acts.

The strongest tendencies of Deronda's nature were rushing in one current - the fervent affection which made him delight in meeting others' wishes, and the imaginative need of some far-reaching relation to make the horizon of his immediate, daily acts.


It has to be admitted that in this classical, romantic, world-historic position of his, bringing as it were from its hiding-place his hereditary armor, he wore--but so, one must suppose, did the most ancient heroes, whether Semitic or Japhetic--the summer costume of his contemporaries.


He did not reflect that the drab tints were becoming to him, for he rarely went to the expense of such thinking; but his own depth of coloring, which made the becomingness, got an added radiance in the eyes, a fleeting and returning glow in the skin, as he entered the house wondering what exactly he should find. He made his entrance as noiseless as possible.
It was the evening of that same afternoon on which Mirah had had the interview with her father.

There was an added radiance in his eyes as he entered the house noiselessly, wondering what exactly he should find.
It was the evening of that same day on which Mirah had met her father.


Mordecai, penetrated by her grief, and also the sad memories which the incident had awakened, had not resumed his task of sifting papers: some of them had fallen scattered on the floor in the first moments of anxiety, and neither he nor Mirah had thought of laying them in order again.

Mordecai, penetrated by her grief, and by sad memories, had not resumed his task of sifting papers.


They had sat perfectly still together, not knowing how long; while the clock ticked on the mantelpiece, and the light was fading, Mirah, unable to think of the food that she ought to have been taking, had not moved since she had thrown off her dust-cloak and sat down beside Mordecai with her hand in his, while he had laid his head backward, with closed eyes and difficult breathing, looking, Mirah thought, as he would look when the soul within him could no longer live in its straitened home.

They had sat perfectly still together while the light faded. Mirah, unable to think of eating, had not moved, while he had laid his head back, with closed eyes and difficult breathing, looking, Mirah thought, as he would look after death.


The thought that his death might be near was continually visiting her when she saw his face in this way, without its vivid animation; and now, to the rest of her grief, was added the regret that she had been unable to control the violent outburst which had shaken him.

The thought that his death might be near continually visited her; and now, to her grief, was added the regret that she had been unable to control her violent outburst.


She sat watching him--her oval cheeks pallid, her eyes with the sorrowful brilliancy left by young tears, her curls in as much disorder as a just-awakened child's--watching that emaciated face, where it might have been imagined that a veil had been drawn never to be lifted, as if it were her dead joy which had left her strong enough to live on in sorrow.

She sat watching him - her cheeks pallid, her eyes brilliant with young tears, her curls in as much disorder as a just-awakened child's - watching that emaciated face.


And life at that moment stretched before Mirah with more than a repetition of former sadness. The shadow of the father was there, and more than that, a double bereavement--of one living as well as one dead.

Life at that moment stretched before Mirah with a double bereavement - of one living as well as one dead.


But now the door was opened, and while none entered, a well-known voice said: "Daniel Deronda--may he come in?"

But now the door opened, and a well-known voice said: "Daniel Deronda - may he come in?"


said Mordecai, immediately rising with an irradiated face and opened eyes--apparently as little surprised as if he had seen Deronda in the morning, and expected this evening visit; while Mirah started up blushing with confused, half-alarmed expectation.

said Mordecai, immediately rising, apparently unsurprised; while Mirah started up blushing with confused, half-alarmed expectation.


Yet when Deronda entered, the sight of him was like the clearness after rain: no clouds to come could hinder the cherishing beam of that moment.


As he held out his right hand to Mirah, who was close to her brother's left, he laid his other hand on Mordecai's right shoulder, and stood so a moment, holding them both at once, uttering no word, but reading their faces, till he said anxiously to Mirah, "Has anything happened?--any trouble?"

As he held out his right hand to Mirah, he laid his other hand on Mordecai's shoulder, and stood so a moment, uttering no word, but reading their faces, till he said anxiously to Mirah, "Has anything happened? - any trouble?"


"Talk not of trouble now," said Mordecai, saving her from the need to answer.


"There is joy in your face--let the joy be ours."


Mirah thought, "It is for something he cannot tell us."


But they all sat down, Deronda drawing a chair close in front of Mordecai.

But when they sat down, Deronda said, emphatically-


"I have a joy which will remain to us even in the worst trouble.


I did not tell you the reason of my journey abroad, Mordecai, because--never mind--I went to learn my parentage.

I did not tell you the reason of my journey abroad, Mordecai, but I went to learn my parentage.


The two men clasped hands with a movement that seemed part of the flash from Mordecai's eyes, and passed through Mirah like an electric shock.

The two men clasped hands, while the words passed through Mirah like an electric shock.


But Deronda went on without pause, speaking from Mordecai's mind as much as from his own,


We shall not be separated by life or by death."


Mordecai's answer was uttered in Hebrew, and in no more than a loud whisper.

Mordecai's whispered answer was uttered in Hebrew.


It was in the liturgical words which express the religious bond: "Our God and the God of our fathers."

It was the liturgical words which express the religious bond: "Our God and the God of our fathers."


The weight of feeling pressed too strongly on that ready-winged speech which usually moved in quick adaptation to every stirring of his fervor.


Mirah fell on her knees by her brother's side, and looked at his now illuminated face, which had just before been so deathly.


The action was an inevitable outlet of the violent reversal from despondency to a gladness which came over her as solemnly as if she had been beholding a religious rite.


For the moment she thought of the effect on her own life only through the effect on her brother.

For the moment she thought of the news only through the effect on her brother.