"Oh, was it great to you? Did it go to your heart?"


"I thought none but our people would feel that.


I thought it was all shut away like a river in a deep valley, where only heaven saw--I mean---" she hesitated, feeling that she could not disentangle her thought from its imagery.

I thought it was all shut away like a river in a deep valley, where only heaven saw - I mean-" She hesitated.


"But there is not really such a separation--deeper down, as Mrs. Meyrick says. Our religion is chiefly a Hebrew religion; and since Jews are men, their religious feelings must have much in common with those of other men--just as their poetry, though in one sense peculiar, has a great deal in common with the poetry of other nations.

"But our religion is chiefly a Hebrew religion; and all religious feelings must have much in common.


Still it is to be expected that a Jew would feel the forms of his people's religion more than one of another race--and yet"--here Deronda hesitated in his turn--"that is perhaps not always so."

Still it is to be expected that a Jew would feel the forms of his people's religion more than that of another race - and yet" - here he hesitated in his turn - "that is perhaps not always so."


Is it not like mocking your parents?--like rejoicing in your parents' shame?"


"Some minds naturally rebel against whatever they were brought up in, and like the opposite; they see the faults in what is nearest to them," said Deronda apologetically.

"Some minds naturally rebel against whatever they were brought up to," said Deronda apologetically.


"But you are not like that," said Mirah, looking at him with unconscious fixedness.

"But you are not like that," said Mirah.


"No, I think not," said Deronda; "but you know I was not brought up as a Jew."

"No, I think not; but I was not brought up as a Jew."


"Ah, I am always forgetting," said Mirah, with a look of disappointed recollection, and slightly blushing.

"Ah, I am always forgetting," said Mirah, with a disappointed look, and slightly blushing.


Deronda also felt rather embarrassed, and there was an awkward pause, which he put an end to by saying playfully,


"Whichever way we take it, we have to tolerate each other; for if we all went in opposition to our teaching, we must end in difference, just the same."


We should go on forever in zig-zags," said Mrs. Meyrick. "I think it is very weak-minded to make your creed up by the rule of the contrary.

Mrs Meyrick said- "I think it is weak-minded to make your creed up by the rule of the contrary.


Still one may honor one's parents, without following their notions exactly, any more than the exact cut of their clothing.

One may honour one's parents, without following their notions exactly.


My father was a Scotch Calvinist and my mother was a French Calvinist; I am neither quite Scotch, nor quite French, nor two Calvinists rolled into one, yet I honor my parents' memory."

My father was a Scotch Calvinist and my mother was a French Calvinist; I am neither Scotch, nor French, nor two Calvinists rolled into one, yet I honour my parents' memory."


"But I could not make myself not a Jewess," said Mirah, insistently, "even if I changed my belief."

"But I could not make myself not a Jewess," said Mirah insistently, "even if I changed my belief."


But if Jews and Jewesses went on changing their religion, and making no difference between themselves and Christians, there would come a time when there would be no Jews to be seen," said Mrs. Meyrick, taking that consummation very cheerfully.

But if Jews and Jewesses changed their religion, and made no difference between themselves and Christians, there would be no Jews to be seen," said Mrs. Meyrick cheerfully.


"Oh, please not to say that," said Mirah, the tears gathering.

"Oh, please do not say that," said Mirah, the tears gathering.


"It is the first unkind thing you ever said.


I will never separate myself from my mother's people.


I was forced to fly from my father; but if he came back in age and weakness and want, and needed me, should I say, 'This is not my father'?

I was forced to fly from my father; but if he came back in weakness and want, and needed me, should I say, 'This is not my father'?


It was he who was given to me for my father, and not another.


I will love Christians when they are good, like you.


As Mirah had gone on speaking she had become possessed with a sorrowful passion--fervent, not violent. Holding her little hands tightly clasped and looking at Mrs. Meyrick with beseeching, she seemed to Deronda a personification of that spirit which impelled men after a long inheritance of professed Catholicism to leave wealth and high place and risk their lives in flight, that they might join their own people and say, "I am a Jew."

She clasped her hands with a sorrowful passion.


"Mirah, Mirah, my dear child, you mistake me!"


"God forbid I should want you to do anything against your conscience.


I was only saying what might be if the world went on.


But I had better have left the world alone, and not wanted to be over-wise.


we will not try to take you from anybody you feel has more right to you."


I owe you my life," said Mirah, not yet quite calm.


"I have been punished enough for wagging my tongue foolishly--making an almanac for the Millennium, as my husband used to say."

"I have been punished enough for wagging my tongue foolishly."


"But everything in the world must come to an end some time.


We must bear to think of that," said Mab, unable to hold her peace on this point.


She had already suffered from a bondage of tongue which threatened to become severe if Mirah were to be too much indulged in this inconvenient susceptibility to innocent remarks.


Deronda smiled at the irregular, blonde face, brought into strange contrast by the side of Mirah's--smiled, Mab thought, rather sarcastically as he said, "That prospect of everything coming to an end will not guide us far in practice.


Mirah's feelings, she tells us, are concerned with what is."


Mab was confused and wished she had not spoken, since Mr. Deronda seemed to think that she had found fault with Mirah; but to have spoken once is a tyrannous reason for speaking again, and she said,


"I only meant that we must have courage to hear things, else there is hardly anything we can talk about."


Mab felt herself unanswerable here, inclining to the opinion of Socrates: "What motive has a man to live, if not for the pleasure of discourse?"


Deronda took his leave soon after, and when Mrs. Meyrick went outside with him to exchange a few words about Mirah, he said, "Hans is to share my chambers when he comes at Christmas."

Deronda took his leave soon after, and when Mrs. Meyrick went outside with him, he said, "Hans is to share my chambers when he comes at Christmas."


said Mrs. Meyrick, her face lighting up.


"Yes, I referred to her. I concluded he knew everything from you."

"Yes, I concluded he knew everything from you."


I have not yet written a word about her.


I have always been meaning to do it, and yet have ended my letter without saying a word.

I have been meaning to do it, and yet have ended my letter without saying a word.


Deronda divined something of what was in the mother's mind, and his divination reinforced a certain anxiety already present in him. His inward colloquy was not soothing. He said to himself that no man could see this exquisite creature without feeling it possible to fall in love with her; but all the fervor of his nature was engaged on the side of precaution.

Deronda divined something of what was in the mother's mind. He had the same anxiety about Hans: no man could see this exquisite creature without feeling it possible to fall in love with her. But he urged himself to caution.


There are personages who feel themselves tragic because they march into a palpable morass, dragging another with them, and then cry out against all the gods.


Deronda's mind was strongly set against imitating them.


"I have my hands on the reins now," he thought, "and I will not drop them.


I shall go there as little as possible."

I shall see Mirah as little as possible," he thought.


He saw the reasons acting themselves out before him.


How could he be Mirah's guardian and claim to unite with Mrs. Meyrick, to whose charge he had committed her, if he showed himself as a lover--whom she did not love--whom she would not marry?

How could he be Mirah's guardian, if he showed himself as a lover - whom she did not love - whom she would not marry?


And if he encouraged any germ of lover's feeling in himself it would lead up to that issue.


Mirah's was not a nature that would bear dividing against itself; and even if love won her consent to marry a man who was not of her race and religion, she would never be happy in acting against that strong native bias which would still reign in her conscience as remorse.

Even if Mirah consented to marry a man who was not of her race and religion, her conscience would always feel remorse.


Deronda saw these consequences as we see any danger of marring our own work well begun.

Deronda saw these consequences as we see any danger of marring our own work.


It was a delight to have rescued this child acquainted with sorrow, and to think of having placed her little feet in protected paths.

It was a delight to have rescued this child, and to think of having placed her little feet in protected paths.


The creature we help to save, though only a half-reared linnet, bruised and lost by the wayside--how we watch and fence it, and dote on its signs of recovery!

The creature we help to save, how we watch it and dote on its recovery!


Our pride becomes loving, our self is a not-self for whose sake we become virtuous, when we set to some hidden work of reclaiming a life from misery and look for our triumph in the secret joy--"This one is the better for me."


"I would as soon hold out my finger to be bitten off as set about spoiling her peace," said Deronda.

"I would as soon hold out my finger to be bitten off as spoil her peace," said Deronda to himself.


"It was one of the rarest bits of fortune that I should have had friends like the Meyricks to place her with--generous, delicate friends without any loftiness in their ways, so that her dependence on them is not only safety but happiness.

"It was the rarest fortune that I have friends like the Meyricks to place her with - generous, delicate friends with whom she can be not only safe but happy.


There could be no refuge to replace that, if it were broken up.


But what is the use of my taking the vows and settling everything as it should be, if that marplot Hans comes and upsets it all?"

But what is the use of my taking the vows, if that marplot Hans comes and upsets it all?"


Hans was made for mishaps: his very limbs seemed more breakable than other people's--his eyes more of a resort for uninvited flies and other irritating guests.

Hans was made for mishaps: his very limbs seemed more breakable than other people's.


But it was impossible to forbid Hans's coming to London.

But it was impossible to forbid Hans's coming to London, where he intended to get a studio.


He was intending to get a studio there and make it his chief home; and to propose that he should defer coming on some ostensible ground, concealing the real motive of winning time for Mirah's position to become more confirmed and independent, was impracticable.

To propose that he should defer coming on some ground or other, concealing the real motive of winning time for Mirah's position to become more independent, was impracticable.


Having no other resource Deronda tried to believe that both he and Mrs. Meyrick were foolishly troubling themselves about one of those endless things called probabilities, which never occur; but he did not quite succeed in his trying; on the contrary, he found himself going inwardly through a scene where on the first discovery of Hans's inclination he gave him a very energetic warning--suddenly checked, however, by the suspicion of personal feeling that his warmth might be creating in Hans.

Deronda tried to believe that both he and Mrs. Meyrick were foolishly troubling themselves about something which would probably not happen, but he did not quite succeed.


He could come to no result, but that the position was peculiar, and that he could make no further provision against dangers until they came nearer.

The position was peculiar, and he could make no further provision against dangers until they came nearer.


To save an unhappy Jewess from drowning herself, would not have seemed a startling variation among police reports; but to discover in her so rare a creature as Mirah, was an exceptional event which might well bring exceptional consequences.

To discover so rare a creature as Mirah, was an exceptional event which might well bring exceptional consequences.


Deronda would not let himself for a moment dwell on any supposition that the consequences might enter deeply into his own life.

Deronda would not let himself for a moment dwell on any thought that the consequences might enter deeply into his own life.


The image of Mirah had never yet had that penetrating radiation which would have been given to it by the idea of her loving him.


When this sort of effluence is absent from the fancy (whether from the fact or not) a man may go far in devotedness without perturbation.


As to the search for Mirah's mother and brother, Deronda took what she had said to-day as a warrant for deferring any immediate measures.

As to the search for Mirah's mother and brother, he put off any immediate measures.


His conscience was not quite easy in this desire for delay, any more than it was quite easy in his not attempting to learn the truth about his own mother: in both cases he felt that there might be an unfulfilled duty to a parent, but in both cases there was an overpowering repugnance to the possible truth, which threw a turning weight into the scale of argument.

His conscience was not quite easy in this desire for delay, any more than it was quite easy in his not attempting to learn the truth about his own mother: in both cases he felt that there might be an unfulfilled duty to a parent, but in both cases there was an overpowering repugnance to the possible truth.


"At least, I will look about," was his final determination.

"At least, I will look about," he thought.


"I may find some special Jewish machinery.


"But I will not act till after Christmas."


What should we all do without the calendar, when we want to put off a disagreeable duty?

Like many of us, he found the calendar a convenient excuse.


The admirable arrangements of the solar system, by which our time is measured, always supply us with a term before which it is hardly worth while to set about anything we are disinclined to.


"_Festina lente_--celerity should be contempered with cunctation."


Gwendolen, we have seen, passed her time abroad in the new excitement of gambling, and in imagining herself an empress of luck, having brought from her late experience a vague impression that in this confused world it signified nothing what any one did, so that they amused themselves.

Gwendolen, we have seen, passed her time abroad in the new excitement of gambling, and in imagining herself an empress of luck, having brought from her late experience an impression that in this confused world nothing mattered but to enjoy oneself.


We have seen, too, that certain persons, mysteriously symbolized as Grapnell & Co., having also thought of reigning in the realm of luck, and being also bent on amusing themselves, no matter how, had brought about a painful change in her family circumstances; whence she had returned home--carrying with her, against her inclination, a necklace which she had pawned and some one else had redeemed.

We have seen, too, that Grapnell & Co, being also bent on amusing themselves, no matter how, had brought about a painful change in her family circumstances; whence she had returned home - carrying with her a necklace which she had pawned and someone else had redeemed.


While she was going back to England, Grandcourt was coming to find her; coming, that is, after his own manner--not in haste by express straight from Diplow to Leubronn, where she was understood to be; but so entirely without hurry that he was induced by the presence of some Russian acquaintances to linger at Baden-Baden and make various appointments with them, which, however, his desire to be at Leubronn ultimately caused him to break.

While she was going back to England, Grandcourt was coming to find her at Leubronn; coming so entirely without hurry that he was induced to linger at Baden-Baden.


Grandcourt's passions were of the intermittent, flickering kind: never flaming out strongly.

Grandcourt's passions were of the intermittent, flickering kind, never flaming out strongly.


But a great deal of life goes on without strong passion: myriads of cravats are carefully tied, dinners attended, even speeches made proposing the health of august personages without the zest arising from a strong desire. And a man may make a good appearance in high social positions--may be supposed to know the classics, to have his reserves on science, a strong though repressed opinion on politics, and all the sentiments of the English gentleman, at a small expense of vital energy. Also, he may be obstinate or persistent at the same low rate, and may even show sudden impulses which have a false air of daemonic strength because they seem inexplicable, though perhaps their secret lies merely in the want of regulated channels for the soul to move in--good and sufficient ducts of habit without which our nature easily turns to mere ooze and mud, and at any pressure yields nothing but a spurt or a puddle.

But a great deal of life goes on without strong passion, and a man may be obstinate at the same low rate, and even show sudden impulses which have an air of daemonic strength because they seem inexplicable.


Grandcourt had not been altogether displeased by Gwendolen's running away from the splendid chance he was holding out to her.

Grandcourt had not been altogether displeased by Gwendolen's running away.


He liked to think that it was due to resentment of his careless behavior in Cardell Chase, which, when he came to consider it, did appear rather cool.

He liked to think that it was due to resentment of his cool and careless behaviour in Cardell Chase.


To have brought her so near a tender admission, and then to have walked headlong away from further opportunities of winning the consent which he had made her understand him to be asking for, was enough to provoke a girl of spirit; and to be worth his mastering it was proper that she should have some spirit.

To have brought her so near a tender admission, and then to have walked away, was enough to provoke a girl of spirit; and to be worth his mastering it was proper that she should have some spirit.


Doubtless she meant him to follow her, and it was what he meant too.


But for a whole week he took no measures toward starting, and did not even inquire where Miss Harleth was gone.


Mr. Lush felt a triumph that was mingled with much distrust; for Grandcourt had said no word to him about her, and looked as neutral as an alligator; there was no telling what might turn up in the slowly-churning chances of his mind.

Mr. Lush felt a triumph mingled with distrust; for Grandcourt said no word to him about her, and looked as neutral as an alligator; there was no telling what might turn up in the slowly-churning chances of his mind.


Still, to have put off a decision was to have made room for the waste of Grandcourt's energy.


The guests at Diplow felt more curiosity than their host.


How was it that nothing more was heard of Miss Harleth?


Was it credible that she had refused Mr. Grandcourt?


Lady Flora Hollis, a lively middle-aged woman, well endowed with curiosity, felt a sudden interest in making a round of calls with Mrs. Torrington, including the rectory, Offendene, and Quetcham, and thus not only got twice over, but also discussed with the Arrowpoints, the information that Miss Harleth was gone to Leubronn, with some old friends, the Baron and Baroness von Langen; for the immediate agitation and disappointment of Mrs. Davilow and the Gascoignes had resolved itself into a wish that Gwendolen's disappearance should not be interpreted as anything eccentric or needful to be kept secret. The rector's mind, indeed, entertained the possibility that the marriage was only a little deferred, for Mrs. Davilow had not dared to tell him of the bitter determination with which Gwendolen had spoken. And in spite of his practical ability, some of his experience had petrified into maxims and quotations. Amaryllis fleeing desired that her hiding-place should be known; and that love will find out the way "over the mountain and over the wave" may be said without hyperbole in this age of steam. Gwendolen, he conceived, was an Amaryllis of excellent sense but coquettish daring; the question was whether she had dared too much.
Lady Flora, coming back charged with news about Miss Harleth, saw no good reason why she should not try whether she could electrify Mr. Grandcourt by mentioning it to him at the table; and in doing so shot a few hints of a notion having got abroad that he was a disappointed adorer.

Lady Flora Hollis, a lively middle-aged woman, learnt that Miss Harleth was gone to Leubronn with some old friends, and mentioned this to Mr. Grandcourt.


Grandcourt heard with quietude, but with attention; and the next day he ordered Lush to bring about a decent reason for breaking up the party at Diplow by the end of another week, as he meant to go yachting to the Baltic or somewhere--it being impossible to stay at Diplow as if he were a prisoner on parole, with a set of people whom he had never wanted.

The next day Grandcourt ordered Lush to break up the party at Diplow by the end of another week, as he meant to go yachting to the Baltic or somewhere.


Lush needed no clearer announcement that Grandcourt was going to Leubronn; but he might go after the manner of a creeping billiard-ball and stick on the way.

Lush needed no clearer announcement that Grandcourt was going to Leubronn; but he might go in the manner of a creeping billiard-ball, and stick on the way.


What Mr. Lush intended was to make himself indispensable so that he might go too, and he succeeded; Gwendolen's repulsion for him being a fact that only amused his patron, and made him none the less willing to have Lush always at hand.

Mr. Lush intended to make himself indispensable in order to go too, and he succeeded; Gwendolen's repulsion for him being a fact that merely amused his patron, and made him none the less willing to have Lush always at hand.


This was how it happened that Grandcourt arrived at the _Czarina_ on the fifth day after Gwendolen had left Leubronn, and found there his uncle, Sir Hugo Mallinger, with his family, including Deronda.

This was how it happened that Grandcourt arrived at the Czarina Hotel on the fifth day after Gwendolen had left Leubronn, and found there his uncle, Sir Hugo Mallinger, with his family, including Deronda.


It is not necessarily a pleasure either to the reigning power or the heir presumptive when their separate affairs--a touch of gout, say, in the one, and a touch of willfulness in the other--happen to bring them to the same spot.

The meeting was not necessarily a pleasure to either.


Sir Hugo was an easy-tempered man, tolerant both of differences and defects; but a point of view different from his own concerning the settlement of the family estates fretted him rather more than if it had concerned Church discipline or the ballot, and faults were the less venial for belonging to a person whose existence was inconvenient to him. In no case could Grandcourt have been a nephew after his own heart; but as the presumptive heir to the Mallinger estates he was the sign and embodiment of a chief grievance in the baronet's life--the want of a son to inherit the lands, in no portion of which had he himself more than a life-interest.

Sir Hugo was an easy-tempered, tolerant man, but Grandcourt was not a nephew after his own heart; and as the presumptive heir to the Mallinger estates he was the embodiment of Sir Hugo's chief grievance - the lack of a son.


For in the ill-advised settlement which his father, Sir Francis, had chosen to make by will, even Diplow with its modicum of land had been left under the same conditions as the ancient and wide inheritance of the two Toppings--Diplow, where Sir Hugo had lived and hunted through many a season in his younger years, and where his wife and daughters ought to have been able to retire after his death.

For Diplow would not go to his wife and daughters after his death.


This grievance had naturally gathered emphasis as the years advanced, and Lady Mallinger, after having had three daughters in quick succession, had remained for eight years till now that she was over forty without producing so much as another girl; while Sir Hugo, almost twenty years older, was at a time of life when, notwithstanding the fashionable retardation of most things from dinners to marriages, a man's hopefulness is apt to show signs of wear, until restored by second childhood.
In fact, he had begun to despair of a son, and this confirmation of Grandcourt's interest in the estates certainly tended to make his image and presence the more unwelcome; but, on the other hand, it carried circumstances which disposed Sir Hugo to take care that the relation between them should be kept as friendly as possible.

This grievance had naturally grown as the years advanced, and Lady Mallinger, after having had three daughters in quick succession, was now over forty. Sir Hugo, almost twenty years older, had begun to despair of a son. Therefore Grandcourt's presence was unwelcome; but Sir Hugo wanted the relation between them to be kept as friendly as possible.


It led him to dwell on a plan which had grown up side by side with his disappointment of an heir; namely, to try and secure Diplow as a future residence for Lady Mallinger and her daughters, and keep this pretty bit of the family inheritance for his own offspring in spite of that disappointment.

He had a plan to secure Diplow as a future residence for Lady Mallinger and her daughters, and keep this bit of the family inheritance for his own offspring.


Such knowledge as he had of his nephew's disposition and affairs encouraged the belief that Grandcourt might consent to a transaction by which he would get a good sum of ready money, as an equivalent for his prospective interest in the domain of Diplow and the moderate amount of land attached to it. If, after all, the unhoped-for son should be born, the money would have been thrown away, and Grandcourt would have been paid for giving up interests that had turned out good for nothing; but Sir Hugo set down this risk as _nil_, and of late years he had husbanded his fortune so well by the working of mines and the sale of leases that he was prepared for an outlay.
Here was an object that made him careful to avoid any quarrel with Grandcourt.

He hoped that Grandcourt might consent to take a good sum of money in exchange for his interest in Diplow and its land; and this aim made him careful to avoid any quarrel with Grandcourt.


Some years before, when he was making improvements at the Abbey, and needed Grandcourt's concurrence in his felling an obstructive mass of timber on the demesne, he had congratulated himself on finding that there was no active spite against him in his nephew's peculiar mind; and nothing had since occurred to make them hate each other more than was compatible with perfect politeness, or with any accommodation that could be strictly mutual.

They did not hate each other more than was compatible with perfect politeness.


Grandcourt, on his side, thought his uncle a superfluity and a bore, and felt that the list of things in general would be improved whenever Sir Hugo came to be expunged.

Grandcourt, on his side, thought his uncle a superfluous bore.


But he had been made aware through Lush, always a useful medium, of the baronet's inclinations concerning Diplow, and he was gratified to have the alternative of the money in his mind: even if he had not thought it in the least likely that he would choose to accept it, his sense of power would have been flattered by his being able to refuse what Sir Hugo desired.

But Lush had made him aware of the baronet's plans concerning Diplow, and he was gratified to have the possibility of the money in his mind: even if he did not choose to accept it, his sense of power would be flattered by his being able to refuse.


The hinted transaction had told for something among the motives which had made him ask for a year's tenancy of Diplow, which it had rather annoyed Sir Hugo to grant, because the excellent hunting in the neighborhood might decide Grandcourt not to part with his chance of future possession;--a man who has two places, in one of which the hunting is less good, naturally desiring a third where it is better.

This was one reason why he had asked for a year's tenancy of Diplow, which had rather annoyed Sir Hugo, because the excellent hunting might make Grandcourt decide not to part with it.


Also, Lush had thrown out to Sir Hugo the probability that Grandcourt would woo and win Miss Arrowpoint, and in that case ready money might be less of a temptation to him.

Also, Lush had hinted to Sir Hugo that Grandcourt would woo and win Miss Arrowpoint, which would free him from the need for ready money.


Hence, on this unexpected meeting at Leubronn, the baronet felt much curiosity to know how things had been going on at Diplow, was bent on being as civil as possible to his nephew, and looked forward to some private chat with Lush.

So the baronet felt much curiosity to know how things had been going on at Diplow, was bent on being civil to his nephew, and looked forward to some private chat with Lush.


Between Deronda and Grandcourt there was a more faintly-marked but peculiar relation, depending on circumstances which have yet to be made known.

Between Deronda and Grandcourt there was a peculiar relation, due to circumstances which have yet to be made known.


But on no side was there any sign of suppressed chagrin on the first meeting at the _table d'hte_, an hour after Grandcourt's arrival; and when the quartette of gentlemen afterward met on the terrace, without Lady Mallinger, they moved off together to saunter through the rooms, Sir Hugo saying as they entered the large _saal_,

But no one showed any sign of annoyance on the first meeting. The quartet of gentlemen sauntered through the rooms, Sir Hugo saying-


"Did you play much at Baden, Grandcourt?"


"No; I looked on and betted a little with some Russians there."


"You brought away about two hundred," said Lush.


"You are not here for the sake of the play, then?"


It's a confounded strain," said Grandcourt, whose diamond ring and demeanor, as he moved along playing slightly with his whisker, were being a good deal stared at by rouged foreigners interested in a new milord.

It's a confounded strain," said Grandcourt, whose diamond ring and demeanour were being a good deal stared at by foreigners interested in a new milord.


"The fact is, somebody should invent a mill to do amusements for you, my dear fellow," said Sir Hugo, "as the Tartars get their praying done. But I agree with you; I never cared for play.

"I agree with you, my dear fellow," said Sir Hugo; "I never cared for play.


It's monotonous--knits the brain up into meshes.


I suppose one gets poisoned with the bad air.


I never stay here more than ten minutes.


But where's your gambling beauty, Deronda?


"An uncommonly fine girl, a perfect Diana," said Sir Hugo, turning to Grandcourt again.


"Really worth a little straining to look at her.


I saw her winning, and she took it as coolly as if she had known it all beforehand.

"I saw her winning, as coolly as if she had foreseen it.


The same day Deronda happened to see her losing like wildfire, and she bore it with immense pluck.


I suppose she was cleaned out, or was wise enough to stop in time.


"Oh, by the Visitor-list,..." said Deronda, with a scarcely perceptible shrug.

"Oh, by the Visitor-list," said Deronda, with a shrug.


"Vandernoodt told me her name was Harleth, and she was with the Baron and Baroness von Langen."


I saw by the list that Miss Harleth was no longer there."


This held no further information for Lush than that Gwendolen had been gambling. He had already looked at the list, and ascertained that Gwendolen had gone, but he had no intention of thrusting this knowledge on Grandcourt before he asked for it; and he had not asked, finding it enough to believe that the object of search would turn up somewhere or other.

Lush had already looked at the list, and learnt that Gwendolen had gone, but he had no intention of telling Grandcourt before he asked; and he had not asked.


But now Grandcourt had heard what was rather piquant, and not a word about Miss Harleth had been missed by him.

But now Grandcourt had heard what was rather piquant.


After a moment's pause he said to Deronda,

After a moment's pause he said to Deronda-


"Do you know those people--the Langens?"


"I have talked with them a little since Miss Harleth went away.

"I have talked with them a little since Miss Harleth left."


"She is gone home," said Deronda, coldly, as if he wished to say no more.

"She is gone home," said Deronda, coldly.


But then, from a fresh impulse, he turned to look markedly at Grandcourt, and added, "But it is possible you know her.

But then, from a fresh impulse, he added, "It is possible you know her.


Her home is not far from Diplow: Offendene, near Winchester."

Her home is not far from Diplow, at Offendene."


Deronda, turning to look straight at Grandcourt, who was on his left hand, might have been a subject for those old painters who liked contrasts of temperament.

Deronda, looking straight at Grandcourt, might have been a subject for those old painters who liked contrasts of temperament.


There was a calm intensity of life and richness of tint in his face that on a sudden gaze from him was rather startling, and often made him seem to have spoken, so that servants and officials asked him automatically, "What did you say, sir?"

His richly-tinted face had a calm intensity that was rather startling, and often made him seem to have spoken, so that servants asked him automatically, "What did you say, sir?"


Grandcourt himself felt an irritation, which he did not show except by a slight movement of the eyelids, at Deronda's turning round on him when he was not asked to do more than speak.

Grandcourt felt an irritation, which he did not show except by a slight movement of the eyelids.


But he answered, with his usual drawl, "Yes, I know her," and paused with his shoulder toward Deronda, to look at the gambling.

But he answered, with his usual drawl, "Yes, I know her," and paused to look at the gambling.


asked Sir Hugo of Lush, as the three moved on a little way. "She must be a new-comer at Offendene. Old Blenny lived there after the dowager died."
"A little too much of her," said Lush, in a low, significant tone; not sorry to let Sir Hugo know the state of affairs.
"Why? how?" said the baronet. They all moved out of the _salon_ into an airy promenade.

asked Sir Hugo of Lush, as the other three men moved out of the salon.


"He has been on the brink of marrying her," Lush went on.

"He has been on the brink of marrying her," said Lush.


She's a niece of the clergyman--Gascoigne--at Pennicote.

She's a niece of the clergyman at Pennicote.


Her mother is a widow with a brood of daughters.


This girl will have nothing, and is as dangerous as gunpowder.


But she has taken a freak against him, for she ran off here without notice, when he had agreed to call the next day.

But she has taken a freak against him, for she ran off here without notice.


The fact is, he's here after her; but he was in no great hurry, and between his caprice and hers they are likely enough not to get together again.

The fact is, he's here after her; although he was in no great hurry, and they are not likely to get together again.


But of course he has lost his chance with the heiress."

But he has lost his chance with the heiress."


Grandcourt joining them said, "What a beastly den this is!--a worse hole than Baden.


When Sir Hugo and Deronda were alone, the baronet began,

When Lush and Grandcourt had departed, Sir Hugo began to Deronda-


She must be worth running after--has _de l'imprvu_. I think her appearance on the scene has bettered my chance of getting Diplow, whether the marriage comes off or not."

She must be worth running after, whether the marriage comes off or not."


"I should hope a marriage like that would not come off," said Deronda, in a tone of disgust.


are you a little touched with the sublime lash?" said Sir Hugo, putting up his glasses to help his short sight in looking at his companion. "Are you inclined to run after her?"

are you inclined to run after her?" said Sir Hugo.


"On the contrary," said Deronda, "I should rather be inclined to run away from her."


"Why, you would easily cut out Grandcourt.


A girl with her spirit would think you the finer match of the two," said Sir Hugo, who often tried Deronda's patience by finding a joke in impossible advice.

A girl with her spirit would think you the finer match of the two.


(A difference of taste in jokes is a great strain on the affections.)


"I suppose pedigree and land belong to a fine match," said Deronda, coldly.


"The best horse will win in spite of pedigree, my boy.


You remember Napoleon's _mot--Je suis un anctre_" said Sir Hugo, who habitually undervalued birth, as men after dining well often agree that the good of life is distributed with wonderful equality.


"I am not sure that I want to be an ancestor," said Deronda.


"It doesn't seem to me the rarest sort of origination."


"You won't run after the pretty gambler, then?"


said Sir Hugo, putting down his glasses.


This answer was perfectly truthful; nevertheless it had passed through Deronda's mind that under other circumstances he should have given way to the interest this girl had raised in him, and tried to know more of her.

This answer was perfectly truthful; nevertheless it had passed through Deronda's mind that under other circumstances he should have given way to his interest in this girl, and have tried to know more of her.


But his history had given him a stronger bias in another direction.


'Tis hard and ill-paid task to order all things beforehand by the rule of our own security, as is well hinted by Machiavelli concerning Caesar Borgia, who, saith he, had thought of all that might occur on his father's death, and had provided against every evil chance save only one: it had never come into his mind that when his father died, his own death would quickly follow.


Grandcourt's importance as a subject of this realm was of the grandly passive kind which consists in the inheritance of land.


Political and social movements touched him only through the wire of his rental, and his most careful biographer need not have read up on Schleswig-Holstein, the policy of Bismarck, trade-unions, household suffrage, or even the last commercial panic.

Political and social movements touched him only through his rents.


He glanced over the best newspaper columns on these topics, and his views on them can hardly be said to have wanted breadth, since he embraced all Germans, all commercial men, and all voters liable to use the wrong kind of soap, under the general epithet of "brutes;" but he took no action on these much-agitated questions beyond looking from under his eyelids at any man who mentioned them, and retaining a silence which served to shake the opinions of timid thinkers.

He glanced over the best newspaper columns, and his views can hardly be said to have wanted breadth, since he embraced all Germans, commercial men, and voters liable to use the wrong kind of soap, under the general epithet of "brutes;" but he took no action on these questions beyond looking from under his eyelids at any man who mentioned them, and retaining an intimidating silence.


But Grandcourt, within his own sphere of interest, showed some of the qualities which have entered into triumphal diplomacy of the wildest continental sort.

But Grandcourt, within his own sphere of interest, showed some of the qualities of an international diplomat.


No movement of Gwendolen in relation to Deronda escaped him.


He would have denied that he was jealous; because jealousy would have implied some doubt of his own power to hinder what he had determined against.

He would have denied that he was jealous; because jealousy implied some doubt of his own power to hinder what he had determined against.


That his wife should have more inclination to another man's society than to his own would not pain him: what he required was that she should be as fully aware as she would have been of a locked hand-cuff, that her inclination was helpless to decide anything in contradiction with his resolve.

That his wife should prefer another man's society to his own would not pain him: what he required was that she should know that she was helpless to defy him.


However much of vacillating whim there might have been in his entrance on matrimony, there was no vacillating in his interpretation of the bond.

However much he may have vacillated before marrying, there was no vacillating in his interpretation of the bond.


He had not repented of his marriage; it had really brought more of aim into his life, new objects to exert his will upon; and he had not repented of his choice.

He had not repented of his marriage; it had brought him new objects to exert his will upon; and he had not repented of his choice.


His taste was fastidious, and Gwendolen satisfied it: he would not have liked a wife who had not received some elevation of rank from him; nor one who did not command admiration by her mien and beauty; nor one whose nails were not of the right shape; nor one the lobe of whose ear was at all too large and red; nor one who, even if her nails and ears were right, was at the same time a ninny, unable to make spirited answers.

His taste was fastidious, and Gwendolen satisfied it: he would not have liked a wife who outranked him; nor one who did not command admiration by her beauty, or who was unable to make spirited answers.


These requirements may not seem too exacting to refined contemporaries whose own ability to fall in love has been held in suspense for lack of indispensable details; but fewer perhaps may follow him in his contentment that his wife should be in a temper which would dispose her to fly out if she dared, and that she should have been urged into marrying him by other feelings than passionate attachment.

These requirements may not seem too exacting to equally fastidious contemporaries; but fewer perhaps may follow him in his contentment that his wife should be in a temper which would make her fly out if she dared, and that she should have married him because of other feelings than passionate attachment.


Still, for those who prefer command to love, one does not see why the habit of mind should change precisely at the point of matrimony.


Grandcourt did not feel that he had chosen the wrong wife; and having taken on himself the part of husband, he was not going in any way to be fooled, or allow himself to be seen in a light that could be regarded as pitiable.

Grandcourt did not feel that he had chosen the wrong wife; and having taken on the part of husband, he was not going to allow himself to look a fool.


This was his state of mind--not jealousy; still, his behavior in some respects was as like jealousy as yellow is to yellow, which color we know may be the effect of very different causes.

This was his state of mind - not jealousy; although the result in his behaviour was very much the same.


He had come up to town earlier than usual because he wished to be on the spot for legal consultation as to the arrangements of his will, the transference of mortgages, and that transaction with his uncle about the succession to Diplow, which the bait of ready money, adroitly dangled without importunity, had finally won him to agree upon.

He had come up to town earlier than usual to make arrangements about his will, and complete the transaction with his uncle about Diplow, which the bait of ready money had finally won him to agree upon.


But another acceptable accompaniment of his being in town was the presentation of himself with the beautiful bride whom he had chosen to marry in spite of what other people might have expected of him.

But he also wished to present himself in town with the beautiful bride whom he had chosen to marry in spite of what other people might have expected.


It is true that Grandcourt went about with the sense that he did not care a languid curse for any one's admiration: but this state of not-caring, just as much as desire, required its related object--namely, a world of admiring or envying spectators: for if you are fond of looking stonily at smiling persons--the persons must be and they must smile--a rudimentary truth which is surely forgotten by those who complain of mankind as generally contemptible, since any other aspect of the race must disappoint the voracity of their contempt.

It is true that Grandcourt believed that he did not care a languid curse for anyone's admiration: but this state of not-caring, just as much as desire, required a world of admiring or envying spectators: for if you are fond of looking stonily at smiling persons, the persons must be there and they must smile.


Grandcourt, in town for the first time with his wife, had his non-caring abstinence from curses enlarged and diversified by splendid receptions, by conspicuous rides and drives, by presentations of himself with her on all distinguished occasions.

Grandcourt had his non-caring attitude enlarged by splendid receptions and conspicuous rides and drives with his wife on all distinguished occasions.


He wished her to be sought after; he liked that "fellows" should be eager to talk with her and escort her within his observation; there was even a kind of lofty coquetry on her part that he would not have objected to.

He wished her to be sought after; he liked that "fellows" should be eager to talk with her within his sight; he would not even have objected to lofty coquetry on her part.


But what he did not like were her ways in relation to Deronda.


After the musical party at Lady Mallinger's, when Grandcourt had observed the dialogue on the settee as keenly as Hans had done, it was characteristic of him that he named Deronda for invitation along with the Mallingers, tenaciously avoiding the possible suggestion to anybody concerned that Deronda's presence or absence could be of the least importance to him; and he made no direct observation to Gwendolen on her behavior that evening, lest the expression of his disgust should be a little too strong to satisfy his own pride.

After the musical party at Lady Mallinger's, when Grandcourt had observed the dialogue on the settee, he invited Deronda along with the Mallingers, to make it clear that Deronda's presence or absence was not of the least importance to him; and he said nothing to Gwendolen on her behaviour that evening, lest his expression of disgust should be a little too strong to satisfy his own pride.


But a few days afterward he remarked, without being careful of the _ propos_,


"Nothing makes a woman more of a gawky than looking out after people and showing tempers in public.

"Nothing makes a woman more of a gawky than looking out for people and showing tempers in public.


Else it's intolerable to appear with her."


Gwendolen made the expected application, and was not without alarm at the notion of being a gawky.

Gwendolen understood him, and felt some alarm at the notion of being a gawky.


For she, too, with her melancholy distaste for things, preferred that her distaste should include admirers.


But the sense of overhanging rebuke only intensified the strain of expectation toward any meeting with Deronda.

But the sense of overhanging rebuke only intensified the anticipation of meeting Deronda.


The novelty and excitement of her town life was like the hurry and constant change of foreign travel; whatever might be the inward despondency, there was a programme to be fulfilled, not without gratification to many-sided self.

The excitement of her town life was like the hurry and constant change of foreign travel; there was always something to do, and not without pleasure.


But, as always happens with a deep interest, the comparatively rare occasions on which she could exchange any words with Deronda had a diffusive effect in her consciousness, magnifying their communication with each other, and therefore enlarging the place she imagined it to have in his mind.

But the rare occasions on which she could exchange any words with Deronda became magnified in her consciousness, and enlarged the place she imagined herself to have in his mind.


He certainly did not avoid her; rather he wished to convince her by every delicate indirect means that her confidence in him had not been indiscreet since it had not lowered his respect.

He certainly did not avoid her; rather he wished to let her know that her confidence in him had not lowered his respect.


Moreover he liked being near her--how could it be otherwise?

Moreover he liked being near her - how could it be otherwise?


She was something more than a problem: she was a lovely woman, for the turn of whose mind and fate he had a care which, however futile it might be, kept soliciting him as a responsibility, perhaps all the more that, when he dared to think of his own future, he saw it lying far away from this splendid sad-hearted creature, who, because he had once been impelled to arrest her attention momentarily, as he might have seized her arm with warning to hinder her from stepping where there was danger, had turned to him with a beseeching persistent need.

She was a lovely woman, and he cared about her fate perhaps all the more because he saw his own future lying far away from this splendid sad-hearted creature, who had turned to him with a beseeching need.


One instance in which Grandcourt stimulated a feeling in Gwendolen that he would have liked to suppress without seeming to care about it, had relation to Mirah.


Gwendolen's inclination lingered over the project of the singing lessons as a sort of obedience to Deronda's advice, but day followed day with that want of perceived leisure which belongs to lives where there is no work to mark off intervals; and the continual liability to Grandcourt's presence and surveillance seemed to flatten every effort to the level of the boredom which his manner expressed; his negative mind was as diffusive as fog, clinging to all objects, and spoiling all contact.

Gwendolen considered taking singing lessons from Mirah as a sort of obedience to Deronda's advice, but as day followed leisurely day, Grandcourt's presence seemed to flatten every effort to the level of his own boredom. His negative mind was as diffusive as fog, clinging to all objects, and spoiling all contact.


But one morning when they were breakfasting, Gwendolen, in a recurrent fit of determination to exercise the old spirit, said, dallying prettily over her prawns without eating them,

But one morning at breakfast, Gwendolen, determined to show her old spirit, said-


"I think of making myself accomplished while we are in town, and having singing lessons."


echoed Gwendolen, playing at sauciness; "because I can't eat _pt de foie gras_ to make me sleepy, and I can't smoke, and I can't go to the club to make me like to come away again--I want a variety of _ennui_.

echoed Gwendolen, playing at sauciness; "because I can't smoke, and I can't go to the club - I want a variety of ennui.


What would be the most convenient time, when you are busy with your lawyers and people, for me to have lessons from that little Jewess, whose singing is getting all the rage."

What would be the most convenient time, when you are busy with your lawyers, for me to have lessons from that little Jewess whose singing is all the rage?"


"Whenever you like," said Grandcourt, pushing away his plate, and leaning back in his chair while he looked at her with his most lizard-like expression and, played with the ears of the tiny spaniel on his lap (Gwendolen had taken a dislike to the dogs because they fawned on him).

"Whenever you like," said Grandcourt, pushing away his plate, and leaning back while he looked at her with his most lizard-like expression and played with the ears of the tiny spaniel on his lap (Gwendolen had taken a dislike to the dogs because they fawned on him).


Then he said, languidly, "I don't see why a lady should sing.

"Though I don't see why a lady should sing.


A lady can't risk herself in that way in company.


And one doesn't want to hear squalling in private."

One doesn't want to hear squalling in private."


"I like frankness: that seems to me a husband's great charm," said Gwendolen, with her little upward movement of her chin, as she turned her eyes away from his, and lifting a prawn before her, looked at the boiled ingenuousness of its eyes as preferable to the lizard's.

"Frankness seems to me a husband's great charm," said Gwendolen, lifting a prawn before her, to look at the boiled ingenuousness of its eyes as preferable to the lizard's.


"But;" she added, having devoured her mortification, "I suppose you don't object to Miss Lapidoth's singing at our party on the fourth?

"But I suppose you don't object to Miss Lapidoth's singing at our party on the fourth?


Lady Brackenshaw had her, you know: and the Raymonds, who are very particular about their music.


And Mr. Deronda, who is a musician himself and a first-rate judge, says there is no singing in such good taste as hers for a drawing-room.

And Mr. Deronda, who is a first-rate judge, says there is no singing in such good taste as hers for a drawing-room.


She meant to sling a small stone at her husband in that way.


"It's very indecent of Deronda to go about praising that girl," said Grandcourt in a tone of indifference.


exclaimed Gwendolen, reddening and looking at him again, overcome by startled wonder, and unable to reflect on the probable falsity of the phrase--"to go about praising."

exclaimed Gwendolen, reddening in startled wonder, unable to reflect on the falsity of the phrase to go about praising.


"Yes; and especially when she is patronized by Lady Mallinger.


Men can see what is his relation to her."


"Men who judge of others by themselves," said Gwendolen, turning white after her redness, and immediately smitten with a dread of her own words.


And a woman should take their judgment--else she is likely to run her head into the wrong place," said Grandcourt, conscious of using pinchers on that white creature.

And a woman should accept their judgment," said Grandcourt deliberately.


"I suppose you take Deronda for a saint."


said Gwendolen, summoning desperately her almost miraculous power of self-control, and speaking in a high hard tone.

said Gwendolen, desperately summoning her self-control, and speaking in a high hard tone.


She rose, pushed her chair away without hurry, and walked out of the room with something like the care of a man who is afraid of showing that he has taken more wine than usual.


She turned the keys inside her dressing-room doors, and sat down for some time looking pale and quiet as when she was leaving the breakfast-room. Even in the moments after reading the poisonous letter she had hardly had more cruel sensations than now; for emotion was at the acute point, where it is not distinguishable from sensation.

She turned the keys inside her dressing-room doors, and sat down for some time looking pale and quiet, but with cruel sensations.


Deronda unlike what she had believed him to be, was an image which affected her as a hideous apparition would have done, quite apart from the way in which it was produced.

Deronda unlike what she had believed him to be, was a hideous and painful image.


It had taken hold of her as pain before she could consider whether it were fiction or truth; and further to hinder her power of resistance came the sudden perception, how very slight were the grounds of her faith in Deronda--how little she knew of his life--how childish she had been in her confidence.

It had grasped her before she could consider whether it were true; and now came the sudden perception, how very little she knew about him - how childish she had been in her confidence.


His rebukes and his severity to her began to seem odious, along with all the poetry and lofty doctrine in the world, whatever it might be; and the grave beauty of his face seemed the most unpleasant mask that the common habits of men could put on.

His severity to her began to seem odious; and the grave beauty of his face seemed an unpleasant mask.


All this went on in her with the rapidity of a sick dream; and her start into resistance was very much like a waking.

All this went rapidly through her mind, until she started into resistance.


Suddenly from out the gray sombre morning there came a stream of sunshine, wrapping her in warmth and light where she sat in stony stillness.

Suddenly from out the grey morning a stream of sunshine came, wrapping her in warmth and light.


She moved gently and looked round her--there was a world outside this bad dream, and the dream proved nothing; she rose, stretching her arms upward and clasping her hands with her habitual attitude when she was seeking relief from oppressive feeling, and walked about the room in this flood of sunbeams.

She rose, stretching her arms upward and clasping her hands, her habitual attitude in seeking relief from oppressive feeling, and walked about the room in the flood of sunbeams.


What does it matter whether _he_ believes it or not?"

What does it matter whether Grandcourt believes it?"


This is what she repeated to herself--but this was not her faith come back again; it was only the desperate cry of faith, finding suffocation intolerable.

This is what she repeated to herself, in a desperate cry of faith.


And how could she go on through the day in this state?

How could she go on through the day in this state?


With one of her impetuous alternations, her imagination flew to wild actions by which she would convince herself of what she wished: she would go to Lady Mallinger and question her about Mirah; she would write to Deronda and upbraid him with making the world all false and wicked and hopeless to her--to him she dared pour out all the bitter indignation of her heart.

Her impetuous imagination flew to wild actions by which she would convince herself of what she wished: she would question Lady Mallinger; she would write to Deronda and upbraid him with making the world wicked and hopeless to her.


This last form taken by her need was more definitely practicable, and quickly became imperious.

This path was more definitely practicable, and quickly became imperious.


She had the pretext of asking Mirah to sing at her party on the fourth.


She did not foresee--she could not wait to foresee.


If that idea which was maddening her had been a living thing, she would have wanted to throttle it without waiting to foresee what would come of the act.


She rang her bell and asked if Mr. Grandcourt were gone out: finding that he was, she ordered the carriage, and began to dress for the drive; then she went down, and walked about the large drawing-room like an imprisoned dumb creature, not recognizing herself in the glass panels, not noting any object around her in the painted gilded prison.

She rang her bell, and on finding that Mr. Grandcourt had gone out, she ordered the carriage, and dressed for the drive. Then she went down, and walked about the drawing-room like an imprisoned animal, not recognizing herself in the glass panels.


Her husband would probably find out where she had been, and punish her in some way or other--no matter--she could neither desire nor fear anything just now but the assurance that she had not been deluding herself in her trust.

Her husband would probably find out where she had been, and punish her somehow - but all that mattered just now was the assurance that she had not been deluded in her trust.


She was provided with Mirah's address. Soon she was on the way with all the fine equipage necessary to carry about her poor uneasy heart, depending in its palpitations on some answer or other to questioning which she did not know how she should put.

She had Mirah's address, and soon was on the way with a palpitating heart.


She was as heedless of what happened before she found that Miss Lapidoth was at home, as one is of lobbies and passages on the way to a court of justice--heedless of everything till she was in a room where there were folding-doors, and she heard Deronda's voice behind it.

She was heedless of everything till she found herself in a room with folding-doors, and heard Deronda's voice behind it.


Doubtless the identification was helped by forecast, but she was as certain of it as if she had seen him.


She was frightened at her own agitation, and began to unbutton her gloves that she might button them again, and bite her lips over the pretended difficulty, while the door opened, and Mirah presented herself with perfect quietude and a sweet smile of recognition.

Frightened at her own agitation, she began to unbutton her gloves that she might button them again, biting her lips, until the door opened, and Mirah appeared with a sweet smile of recognition.


There was relief in the sight of her face, and Gwendolen was able to smile in return, while she put out her hand in silence; and as she seated herself, all the while hearing the voice, she felt some reflux of energy in the confused sense that the truth could not be anything that she dreaded.

There was relief in the sight of her face, and Gwendolen was able to smile in return; and as she seated herself, all the while hearing the voice, she felt some return of energy in the confused sense that the truth could not be anything that she dreaded.


Mirah drew her chair very near, as if she felt that the sound of the conversation should be subdued, and looked at her visitor with placid expectation, while Gwendolen began in a low tone, with something that seemed like bashfulness,

Mirah drew her chair very near, as if she felt that their conversation should be quiet, and looked at her visitor in expectation. Gwendolen began in a low, almost bashful tone-


"Perhaps you wonder to see me--perhaps I ought to have written--but I wished to make a particular request."

"Perhaps you wonder to see me - I ought to have written - but I have a particular request."


"I am glad to see you instead of having a letter," said Mirah, wondering at the changed expression and manner of the "Vandyke duchess," as Hans had taught her to call Gwendolen.

"I am glad to see you instead of a letter," said Mirah, wondering at the agitated manner of the "Vandyke duchess."


The rich color and the calmness of her own face were in strong contrast with the pale agitated beauty under the plumed hat.


"I thought," Gwendolen went on--"at least I hoped, you would not object to sing at our house on the 4th--in the evening--at a party like Lady Brackenshaw's.

Gwendolen went on- "I thought - I hoped you would not object to sing at our house on the 4th - in the evening - at a party.


said Mirah, while Gwendolen seemed to get more instead of less embarrassed.


"At ten, please," she answered; then paused, and felt that she had nothing more to say. She could not go.

"At ten, please," she answered; then paused. She had nothing more to say, yet she could not go.


It was impossible to rise and say good-bye.


She must say it--she could contrive no other sentence,


said Gwendolen, who had heard this from Lady Mallinger, but had not minded it then.


"Yes, a dear brother who is ill--consumptive, and Mr. Deronda is the best of friends to him, as he has been to me," said Mirah, with the impulse that will not let us pass the mention of a precious person indifferently.

"Yes, a dear brother who is consumptive, and Mr. Deronda is the best of friends to him, as he has been to me," said Mirah.


"Tell me," said Gwendolen, putting her hand on Mirah's, and speaking hardly above a whisper--"tell me--tell me the truth.

"Tell me," said Gwendolen, putting her hand on Mirah's, and speaking hardly above a whisper- "tell me the truth.


Any evil that people say of him is false."


Could the proud-spirited woman have behaved more like a child?


But the strange words penetrated Mirah with nothing but a sense of solemnity and indignation.

But the strange words penetrated Mirah with nothing but solemnity and indignation.


With a sudden light in her eyes and a tremor in her voice, she said,

With a sudden light in her eyes and a trembling voice, she said-


"Who are the people that say evil of him?


I would not believe any evil of him, if an angel came to tell it me.


He found me when I was so miserable--I was going to drown myself; I looked so poor and forsaken; you would have thought I was a beggar by the wayside.

He found me when I was going to drown myself; I looked so poor and miserable, you would have thought I was a beggar.


And he treated me as if I had been a king's daughter.


And he honors my brother--though he too was poor--oh, almost as poor as he could be.

And he honours my brother, though he too was poor.


And my brother honors him. That is no light thing to say"--here Mirah's tone changed to one of profound emphasis, and she shook her head backward: "for my brother is very learned and great-minded.

And my brother honours him, which is no light thing, for my brother is very learned and great-minded.


And Mr. Deronda says there are few men equal to him."


Some Jewish defiance had flamed into her indignant gratitude and her anger could not help including Gwendolen since she seemed to have doubted Deronda's goodness.

Some Jewish defiance flamed into her indignant gratitude.


But Gwendolen was like one parched with thirst, drinking the fresh water that spreads through the frame as a sufficient bliss.

But Gwendolen was like one parched with thirst and drinking fresh water.


She did not notice that Mirah was angry with her; she was not distinctly conscious of anything but of the penetrating sense that Deronda and his life were no more like her husband's conception than the morning in the horizon was like the morning mixed with street gas.

She did not notice Mirah's anger; she was not conscious of anything but of the sense that Deronda was no more like her husband's conception than the dawn was like gas-light.


Even Mirah's words sank into the indefiniteness of her relief.


She could hardly have repeated them, or said how her whole state of feeling was changed.


She pressed Mirah's hand, and said, "Thank you, thank you," in a hurried whisper, then rose, and added, with only a hazy consciousness, "I must go, I shall see you--on the fourth--I am so much obliged"--bowing herself out automatically, while Mirah, opening the door for her, wondered at what seemed a sudden retreat into chill loftiness.

She pressed Mirah's hand, and said, "Thank you, thank you," in a hurried whisper, then rose, adding, "I must go, I shall see you on the 4th - I am so much obliged" - bowing herself out, while Mirah, opening the door for her, wondered at her sudden chilly retreat.


Gwendolen, indeed, had no feeling to spare in any effusiveness toward the creature who had brought her relief.

Gwendolen, indeed, had no feeling to spare for Mirah.


The passionate need of contradiction to Grandcourt's estimate of Deronda, a need which had blunted her sensibility to everything else, was no sooner satisfied than she wanted to be gone.

The passionate need for confirmation of Deronda's goodness, which had over-ridden everything else, was no sooner satisfied than she wanted to be gone.


She began to be aware that she was out of place, and to dread Deronda's seeing her.

She began to dread Deronda's seeing her.


And once in the carriage again, she had the vision of what awaited her at home.

And once in the carriage, she had the vision of what awaited her at home.


When she drew up before the door in Grosvenor Square, her husband was arriving with a cigar between his fingers.

When she drew up in Grosvenor Square, her husband was arriving with a cigar between his fingers.


He threw it away and handed her out, accompanying her up-stairs.

He threw it away and handed her out, accompanying her upstairs.


She turned into the drawing-room, lest he should follow her farther and give her no place to retreat to; then she sat down with a weary air, taking off her gloves, rubbing her hand over her forehead, and making his presence as much of a cipher as possible.

She turned into the drawing-room and sat down wearily, taking off her gloves, rubbing her forehead, and ignoring his presence as much as possible.


But he sat, too, and not far from her--just in front, where to avoid looking at him must have the emphasis of effort.

But he sat in front of her, where she could not avoid looking at him.


"May I ask where you have been at this extraordinary hour?"


"Oh, yes; I have been to Miss Lapidoth's, to ask her to come and sing for us," said Gwendolen, laying her gloves on the little table beside her, and looking down at them.

"I have been to Miss Lapidoth's, to ask her to come and sing for us," said Gwendolen, laying her gloves on the table.


"And to ask her about her relations with Deronda?"


said Grandcourt, with the coldest possible sneer in his low voice which in poor Gwendolen's ear was diabolical.

said Grandcourt, with the coldest possible sneer in his low voice.


For the first time since their marriage she flashed out upon him without inward check.

For the first time since their marriage she flashed out upon him without check.


Turning her eyes full on his she said, in a biting tone,

Turning her eyes full on his she said, in a biting tone-


"Yes; and what you said is false--a low, wicked falsehood."

"Yes; and what you said is a low, wicked falsehood."


returned Grandcourt, with a more thoroughly distilled sneer.

returned Grandcourt, with a more pronounced sneer.


The daring anger within her was turned into the rage of dumbness.

The daring anger within her was turned dumb.


What reasons for her belief could she give?


All the reasons that seemed so strong and living within her--she saw them suffocated and shrivelled up under her husband's breath.

All her reasons would be shrivelled up under her husband's breath.


There was no proof to give, but her own impression, which would seem to him her own folly.

There was no proof to offer but her own impression, which would seem to him her own folly.


She turned her head quickly away from him and looked angrily toward the end of the room: she would have risen, but he was in her way.

She turned and looked away from him angrily: she would have risen, but he was in her way.


"It's of no consequence so far as her singing goes," he said, in his superficial drawl.

"It's of no consequence so far as her singing goes," he drawled.


"You can have her to sing, if you like."


Then, after a pause, he added in his lowest imperious tone, "But you will please to observe that you are not to go near that house again.

After a pause, he added in his lowest imperious tone, "But you will please to observe that you are not to go near that house again.


As my wife, you must take my word about what is proper for you.

As my wife, you must take my word about what is proper.


When you undertook to be Mrs. Grandcourt, you undertook not to make a fool of yourself.


You have been making a fool of yourself this morning; and if you were to go on as you have begun, you might soon get yourself talked of at the clubs in a way you would not like.

You have been making a fool of yourself this morning; and if you were to go on this way, you might get yourself talked of at the clubs in a way you would not like.


You have married _me_, and must be guided by my opinion."

You have married me, and must be guided by my opinion."


Every slow sentence of that speech had a terrific mastery in it for Gwendolen's nature.

Every slow sentence of that speech had a terrific mastery in it for Gwendolen.


If the low tones had come from a physician telling her that her symptoms were those of a fatal disease, and prognosticating its course, she could not have been more helpless against the argument that lay in it.

If it had come from a physician telling her that she had a fatal disease, she could not have been more helpless against it.


But she was permitted to move now, and her husband never again made any reference to what had occurred this morning.

But she was permitted to move now, and her husband never again spoke of what had occurred.


He knew the force of his own words. If this white-handed man with the perpendicular profile had been sent to govern a difficult colony, he might have won reputation among his contemporaries. He had certainly ability, would have understood that it was safer to exterminate than to cajole superseded proprietors, and would not have flinched from making things safe in that way.

He knew the force of his own words, and did not flinch from ruthlessness.


Gwendolen did not, for all this, part with her recovered faith;--rather, she kept it with a more anxious tenacity, as a Protestant of old kept his bible hidden or a Catholic his crucifix, according to the side favored by the civil arm; and it was characteristic of her that apart from the impression gained concerning Deronda in that visit, her imagination was little occupied with Mirah or the eulogised brother.

Gwendolen did not, for all this, part with her recovered faith:- rather, she kept it with a more anxious tenacity, as a Protestant of old kept his Bible hidden or a Catholic his crucifix, according to the side in favour at the time; and it was characteristic of her that apart from the information gained about Deronda, Mirah and her brother did not enter her thoughts.


The one result established for her was, that Deronda had acted simply as a generous benefactor, and the phrase "reading Hebrew" had fleeted unimpressively across her sense of hearing, as a stray stork might have made its peculiar flight across her landscape without rousing any surprised reflection on its natural history.

The phrase "reading Hebrew" had fleeted across her sense of hearing without leaving any impression.


But the issue of that visit, as it regarded her husband, took a strongly active part in the process which made an habitual conflict within her, and was the cause of some external change perhaps not observed by any one except Deronda.

But the result of that visit, as it regarded her husband, was the cause of a change in her perhaps not observed by anyone except Deronda.


As the weeks went on bringing occasional transient interviews with her, he thought that he perceived in her an intensifying of her superficial hardness and resolute display, which made her abrupt betrayals of agitation the more marked and disturbing to him.

As the weeks went on bringing occasional transient interviews with her, he thought that he perceived an intensifying of her superficial hardness and resolute display, which made her abrupt betrayals of agitation the more marked and disturbing.


In fact, she was undergoing a sort of discipline for the refractory which, as little as possible like conversion, bends half the self with a terrible strain, and exasperates the unwillingness of the other half.

In fact, she was undergoing a sort of unwilling discipline for the refractory which bent her with a terrible strain.


Grandcourt had an active divination rather than discernment of refractoriness in her, and what had happened about Mirah quickened his suspicion that there was an increase of it dependent on the occasions when she happened to see Deronda: there was some "confounded nonsense" between them: he did not imagine it exactly as flirtation, and his imagination in other branches was rather restricted; but it was nonsense that evidently kept up a kind of simmering in her mind--an inward action which might become disagreeable outward.

Grandcourt had divined this refractoriness in her, and suspected that it increased whenever she happened to see Deronda: there was some "confounded nonsense" between them. He did not imagine it exactly as flirtation, and his imagination in other branches was rather restricted; but it evidently kept up a kind of simmering in her mind which might turn out to be disagreeable.


Husbands in the old time are known to have suffered from a threatening devoutness in their wives, presenting itself first indistinctly as oddity, and ending in that mild form of lunatic asylum, a nunnery: Grandcourt had a vague perception of threatening moods in Gwendolen which the unity between them in his views of marriage required him peremptorily to check.

Grandcourt had a vague perception of threatening moods in Gwendolen which his views of marriage required him peremptorily to check.


Among the means he chose, one was peculiar, and was less ably calculated than the speeches we have just heard.

Among the means he chose, one was peculiar, and was less ably calculated than usual.


He determined that she should know the main purport of the will he was making, but he could not communicate this himself, because it involved the fact of his relation to Mrs. Glasher and her children; and that there should be any overt recognition of this between Gwendolen and himself was supremely repugnant to him.

He determined that she should know the contents of the will he was making, but he could not tell her himself, because it involved the fact of his relation to Mrs. Glasher; and any open recognition of this between Gwendolen and himself was supremely repugnant to him.


Like all proud, closely-wrapped natures, he shrank from explicitness and detail, even on trivialities, if they were personal: a valet must maintain a strict reserve with him on the subject of shoes and stockings.

Like all proud, closely-wrapped natures, he shrank from explicitness on personal matters.


And clashing was intolerable to him; his habitual want was to put collision out of the question by the quiet massive pressure of his rule.

And clashing was intolerable to him; he preferred to use the quiet massive pressure of his rule.


But he wished Gwendolen to know that before he made her an offer it was no secret to him that she was aware of his relations with Lydia, her previous knowledge being the apology for bringing the subject before her now.

But he wished Gwendolen to know that before he made her an offer, he knew that she was aware of his relations with Lydia.


Some men in his place might have thought of writing what he wanted her to know, in the form of a letter.

Some men in his place might have thought of writing this to her, in the form of a letter.


But Grandcourt hated writing: even writing a note was a bore to him, and he had long been accustomed to have all his writing done by Lush. We know that there are persons who will forego their own obvious interest rather than do anything so disagreeable as to write letters; and it is not probable that these imperfect utilitarians would rush into manuscript and syntax on a difficult subject in order to save another's feelings. To Grandcourt it did not even occur that he should, would, or could write to Gwendolen the information in question; and the only medium of communication he could use was Lush, who, to his mind, was as much of an implement as pen and paper.

But Grandcourt hated writing: even writing a note was a bore to him, and he had long been accustomed to have all his writing done by Lush: who, to his mind, was as much of an implement as pen and paper.


But here too Grandcourt had his reserves, and would not have uttered a word likely to encourage Lush in an impudent sympathy with any supposed grievance in a marriage which had been discommended by him.

But here too Grandcourt was reserved, and would not utter a word likely to encourage Lush in an impudent sympathy about his marriage.


Who that has a confidant escapes believing too little in his penetration, and too much in his discretion?


Grandcourt had always allowed Lush to know his external affairs indiscriminately--irregularities, debts, want of ready money; he had only used discrimination about what he would allow his confidant to say to him; and he had been so accustomed to this human tool, that the having him at call in London was a recovery of lost ease.

Grandcourt had always allowed Lush to know his affairs and debts indiscriminately; he had only used discrimination about what he would allow his confidant to say to him; and he had been so accustomed to this human tool, that having him at call in London was a recovery of lost ease.


It followed that Lush knew all the provisions of the will more exactly than they were known to the testator himself.

It followed that Lush knew the provisions of the will more exactly than Grandcourt himself.


Grandcourt did not doubt that Gwendolen, since she was a woman who could put two and two together, knew or suspected Lush to be the contriver of her interview with Lydia, and that this was the reason why her first request was for his banishment.

Grandcourt did not doubt that Gwendolen, since she was a woman who could put two and two together, knew or suspected Lush to be the contriver of her interview with Lydia, and that this why she had requested his banishment.


But the bent of a woman's inferences on mixed subjects which excites mixed passions is not determined by her capacity for simple addition; and here Grandcourt lacked the only organ of thinking that could have saved him from mistake--namely, some experience of the mixed passions concerned.

But here Grandcourt lacked the knowledge that could have saved him from mistake - namely, some experience of the passions concerned.


He had correctly divined one-half of Gwendolen's dread--all that related to her personal pride, and her perception that his will must conquer hers; but the remorseful half, even if he had known of her broken promise, was as much out of his imagination as the other side of the moon.

He had correctly divined the half of Gwendolen's dread that related to her personal pride; but the remorseful half was as much out of his imagination as the other side of the moon.


What he believed her to feel about Lydia was solely a tongue-tied jealousy, and what he believed Lydia to have written with the jewels was the fact that she had once been used to wearing them, with other amenities such as he imputed to the intercourse with jealous women.

What he believed her to feel about Lydia was solely jealousy, and what he believed Lydia to have written with the jewels was the fact that she had once been used to wearing them.


He had the triumphant certainty that he could aggravate the jealousy and yet smite it with a more absolute dumbness. His object was to engage all his wife's egoism on the same side as his own, and in his employment of Lush he did not intend an insult to her: she ought to understand that he was the only possible envoy.

He aimed to aggravate the jealousy and yet smite it dumb: and Lush was the only possible envoy.


Grandcourt's view of things was considerably fenced in by his general sense, that what suited him others must put up with. There is no escaping the fact that want of sympathy condemns us to corresponding stupidity.

Grandcourt's view of things was considerably fenced in by his lack of sympathy.


Mephistopheles thrown upon real life, and obliged to manage his own plots, would inevitably make blunders.

This lack would make even Mephistopheles stupid: thrown upon real life, and obliged to manage his own plots, he would inevitably make blunders.


One morning he went to Gwendolen in the boudoir beyond the back drawing-room, hat and gloves in hand, and said with his best-tempered, most persuasive drawl, standing before her and looking down on her as she sat with a book on her lap,

One morning Grandcourt went to Gwendolen in her boudoir, hat and gloves in hand, and said with his most persuasive drawl, looking down on her as she sat with a book on her lap-


"A--Gwendolen, there's some business about property to be explained.

"A - Gwendolen, there's some business about property to be explained.


I have told Lush to come and explain it to you.


"You know that I do mind," said Gwendolen, angrily, starting up.

"You know that I do mind," said Gwendolen, angrily.


She showed the intention to dart away to the door. Grandcourt was before her, with his back toward it. He was prepared for her anger, and showed none in return, saying, with the same sort of remonstrant tone that he might have used about an objection to dining out,

She started up toward the door, but Grandcourt was prepared for her anger and was there before her, saying;-


There are plenty of brutes in the world that one has to talk to.


People with any _savoir vivre_ don't make a fuss about such things.

One shouldn't make a fuss about such things.


You can't expect agreeable people to do it.


If I employ Lush, the proper thing for you is to take it as a matter of course.


Not to toss your head and bite your lips about people of that sort."

Not to toss your head about people of that sort."


The drawling and the pauses with which this speech was uttered gave time for crowding reflections in Gwendolen, quelling her resistance.

The drawling and the pauses in this speech gave time for crowding reflections in Gwendolen.


What was there to be told her about property?


This word had certain dominant associations for her, first with her mother, then with Mrs. Glasher and her children.

It might concern her mother, or Mrs. Glasher.


What would be the use if she refused to see Lush?


Could she ask Grandcourt to tell her himself? That might be intolerable, even if he consented, which it was certain he would not, if he had made up his mind to the contrary.

She knew Grandcourt would not tell her himself.


The humiliation of standing an obvious prisoner, with her husband barring the door, was not to be borne any longer, and she turned away to lean against a cabinet, while Grandcourt again moved toward her.

The humiliation of standing a prisoner, with her husband barring the door, was not to be borne any longer, and she turned away.


"I have arranged for Lush to come up now, while I am out," he said, after a long organ stop, during which Gwendolen made no sign. "Shall I tell him he may come?"

"Shall I tell Lush he may come up now?" he said.


Yet another pause before she could say "Yes"--her face turned obliquely and her eyes cast down.

Yet another pause before she could say "Yes" - her eyes cast down.


"I shall come back in time to ride, if you like to get ready," said Grandcourt.


"She is in a desperate rage," thought he.


But the rage was silent, and therefore not disagreeable to him.


It followed that he turned her chin and kissed her, while she still kept her eyelids down, and she did not move them until he was on the other side of the door.

He turned her chin and kissed her, while she still kept her eyelids down, and she did not move them until he was gone.


Search where she would in her consciousness, she found no plea to justify a plaint.


Any romantic illusions she had had in marrying this man had turned on her power of using him as she liked.

Her romantic illusions in marrying this man had turned on her power of using him as she liked.


She sat awaiting the announcement of Lush as a sort of searing operation that she had to go through.


The facts that galled her gathered a burning power when she thought of their lying in his mind.

The thought of what her husband knew burned through her.


It was all a part of that new gambling, in which the losing was not simply a _minus_, but a terrible _plus_ that had never entered into her reckoning.

It was all a part of that new gambling, in which the losing was not simply a minus, but a terrible plus that had never entered into her reckoning.


Lush was neither quite pleased nor quite displeased with his task. Grandcourt had said to him by way of conclusion, "Don't make yourself more disagreeable than nature obliges you."

Grandcourt had told Lush, "Don't make yourself more disagreeable than nature makes you."


But he said, "I will write a brief abstract for Mrs. Grandcourt to read."

But the idea of an interview did not wholly displease him, and he said, "I will write a brief abstract of the will for Mrs. Grandcourt to read."


He did not suggest that he should make the whole communication in writing, which was a proof that the interview did not wholly displease him.


Some provision was being made for himself in the will, and he had no reason to be in a bad humor, even if a bad humor had been common with him.

Some provision was made for himself in the will, and he had no reason to be in a bad humour.


He was perfectly convinced that he had penetrated all the secrets of the situation; but he had no diabolical delight in it. He had only the small movements of gratified self-loving resentment in discerning that this marriage had fulfilled his own foresight in not being as satisfactory as the supercilious young lady had expected it to be, and as Grandcourt wished to feign that it was.

He was sure that he knew all the secrets of the situation; but he had no diabolical delight in it, only a gratified resentment in discerning that this marriage, as he had foreseen, was not as satisfactory as the supercilious young lady had expected it to be, and as Grandcourt wished to pretend that it was.


He had no persistent spite much stronger than what gives the seasoning of ordinary scandal to those who repeat it and exaggerate it by their conjectures.


With no active compassion or good-will, he had just as little active malevolence, being chiefly occupied in liking his particular pleasures, and not disliking anything but what hindered those pleasures--everything else ranking with the last murder and the last _opra bouffe_, under the head of things to talk about.

While he had no active good-will, he had little active malevolence, being chiefly occupied in his own particular pleasures.


Nevertheless, he was not indifferent to the prospect of being treated uncivilly by a beautiful woman, or to the counter-balancing fact that his present commission put into his hands an official power of humiliating her.

Nevertheless, he was not indifferent to the prospect of being treated uncivilly by a beautiful woman, or to having the official power of humiliating her.


He did not mean to use it needlessly; but there are some persons so gifted in relation to us that their "How do you do?"


By the time that Mr. Lush was announced, Gwendolen had braced herself to a bitter resolve that he should not witness the slightest betrayal of her feeling, whatever he might have to tell.

By the time that Mr. Lush was announced, Gwendolen had resolved that he should not witness the slightest betrayal of her feeling.


She invited him to sit down with stately quietude.


He was not in the least like her husband.


Her power of hating a coarse, familiar-mannered man, with clumsy hands, was now relaxed by the intensity with which she hated his contrast.

Her power of hating a coarse, familiar, clumsy man, was now relaxed by the intensity with which she hated his contrast.


He held a small paper folded in his hand while he spoke.

Lush held a small paper in his hand while he spoke.


"I need hardly say that I should not have presented myself if Mr. Grandcourt had not expressed a strong wish to that effect--as no doubt he has mentioned to you."

"I need hardly say that I should not have presented myself to you if Mr. Grandcourt had not expressed a strong wish to that effect."


From some voices that speech might have sounded entirely reverential, and even timidly apologetic. Lush had no intention to the contrary, but to Gwendolen's ear his words had as much insolence in them as his prominent eyes, and the pronoun "you" was too familiar.

From some voices that speech might have sounded apologetic, but to Gwendolen's ear his words held as much insolence as his prominent eyes, and the pronoun "you" was too familiar.


He ought to have addressed the folding-screen, and spoke of her as Mrs. Grandcourt.

He ought to have addressed the folding-screen, and have spoken of her as Mrs. Grandcourt.


She gave the smallest sign of a bow, and Lush went on, with a little awkwardness, getting entangled in what is elegantly called tautology.

She gave the smallest bow, and Lush went on.


"My having been in Mr. Grandcourt's confidence for fifteen years or more--since he was a youth, in fact--of course gives me a peculiar position.

"My having been in Mr. Grandcourt's confidence for fifteen years gives me a peculiar position.


He can speak to me of affairs that he could not mention to any one else; and, in fact, he could not have employed any one else in this affair.

He can speak to me of matters that he could not mention to anyone else; and he could not have employed anyone else in this affair.


I have accepted the task out of friendship for him.


Which is my apology for accepting the task--if you would have preferred some one else."

Which is my apology for accepting the task - if you would have preferred some one else."


He paused, but she made no sign, and Lush, to give himself a countenance in an apology which met no acceptance, opened the folded paper, and looked at it vaguely before he began to speak again.

He paused, but she made no sign. Lush opened the folded paper, and looked at it vaguely before he began to speak again.


"This paper contains some information about Mr. Grandcourt's will, an abstract of a part he wished you to know--if you'll be good enough to cast your eyes over it.

"This paper contains some information about Mr. Grandcourt's will, if you'll be good enough to cast your eyes over it.


But there is something I had to say by way of introduction--which I hope you'll pardon me for, if it's not quite agreeable."

But there is something I had to say by way of introduction - which I hope you'll pardon me for, if it's not quite agreeable."


Lush found that he was behaving better than he had expected, and had no idea how insulting he made himself with his "not quite agreeable."


"Say what you have to say without apologizing, please," said Gwendolen, with the air she might have bestowed on a dog-stealer come to claim a reward for finding the dog he had stolen.


"I have only to remind you of something that occurred before your engagement to Mr. Grandcourt," said Lush, not without the rise of some willing insolence in exchange for her scorn.

"I have to remind you of something that occurred before your engagement to Mr. Grandcourt," said Lush, some willing insolence rising in exchange for her scorn.


"You met a lady in Cardell Chase, if you remember, who spoke to you of her position with regard to Mr. Grandcourt.


She had children with her--one a very fine boy."

She had children with her - one a very fine boy."


Gwendolen's lips were almost as pale as her cheeks; her passion had no weapons--words were no better than chips.


This man's speech was like a sharp knife-edge drawn across her skin: but even her indignation at the employment of Lush was getting merged in a crowd of other feelings, dim and alarming as a crowd of ghosts.

This man's speech was like a knife-edge drawn across her skin: and other feelings crowded in, dim and alarming as ghosts.


"Mr. Grandcourt was aware that you were acquainted with this unfortunate affair beforehand, and he thinks it only right that his position and intentions should be made quite clear to you.

"Mr. Grandcourt was aware that you were acquainted with this unfortunate affair, and he thinks it only right that his intentions regarding property should be made clear to you.


It is an affair of property and prospects; and if there were any objection you had to make, if you would mention it to me--it is a subject which of course he would rather not speak about himself--if you will be good enough just to read this."

If you have any objection, you should mention it to me - he would rather not speak about it himself. If you will be good enough to read this."


With the last words Lush rose and presented the paper to her.


When Gwendolen resolved that she would betray no feeling in the presence of this man, she had not prepared herself to hear that her husband knew the silent consciousness, the silently accepted terms on which she had married him.

When Gwendolen resolved that she would betray no feeling, she had not prepared herself to hear that her husband knew the silently accepted terms on which she had married him.


She dared not raise her hand to take the paper, least it should visibly tremble.

She dared not raise her hand to the paper that he held out, lest it should tremble.


For a moment Lush stood holding it toward her, and she felt his gaze on her as ignominy, before she could say even with low-toned haughtiness,


Lush obeyed, thinking as he took an easy-chair in the back drawing-room, "My lady winces considerably.

Lush obeyed, thinking, "My lady winces considerably.


She didn't know what would be the charge for that superfine article, Henleigh Grandcourt."


But it seemed to him that a penniless girl had done better than she had any right to expect, and that she had been uncommonly knowing for her years and opportunities: her words to Lydia meant nothing, and her running away had probably been part of her adroitness. It had turned out a master-stroke.

But it seemed to him that as a penniless girl, she had done better than she had any right to expect, and that she had been uncommonly knowing. Her words to Lydia had meant nothing, and her running away had probably been planned: it had turned out a master-stroke.


Meanwhile Gwendolen was rallying her nerves to the reading of the paper.

Meanwhile Gwendolen was rallying her nerves.


Her whole being--pride, longing for rebellion, dreams of freedom, remorseful conscience, dread of fresh visitation--all made one need to know what the paper contained.

Her pride, her rebellion, her remorseful conscience all made her need to know what the paper contained.


But at first it was not easy to take in the meaning of the words.

At first it was not easy to take in the meaning of the words.