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.


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.

, 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.

"At ten, please," she answered; then paused. She had nothing more to say,


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.


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.

, 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.


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.


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.

: 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.

He aimed to aggravate the jealousy and yet smite it dumb


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.


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.


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,

, 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?

She knew Grandcourt would not 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.


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.


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

he said.
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 was sure that he knew 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.

, 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.

From some voices that speech might have sounded 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.

, 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.

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:


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.


When she had succeeded, she found that in the case of there being no son as issue of her marriage, Grandcourt had made the small Henleigh his heir; that was all she cared to extract from the paper with any distinctness.

When she succeeded, she found that in the case of her having no son, Grandcourt had made the small Henleigh his heir; that was all she cared to extract from the paper with any distinctness.


The other statement as to what provision would be made for her in the same case, she hurried over, getting only a confused perception of thousands and Gadsmere.


She could dismiss the man in the next room with the defiant energy which had revived in her at the idea that this question of property and inheritance was meant as a finish to her humiliations and her thraldom.

This inheritance was meant as a final humiliation, but she could dismiss the man in the next room with the defiant energy which it inspired.


She thrust the paper between the leaves of her book, which she took in her hand, and walked with her stateliest air into the next room, where Lush immediately arose, awaiting her approach.

Thrusting the paper between the leaves of her book, she walked with her stateliest air into the next room, where Lush immediately arose.


When she was four yards from him, it was hardly an instant that she paused to say in a high tone, while she swept him with her eyelashes,

She said in a high tone, while she swept him with her eyelashes-


"Tell Mr. Grandcourt that his arrangements are just what I desired"--passing on without haste, and leaving Lush time to mingle some admiration of her graceful back with that half-amused sense of her spirit and impertinence, which he expressed by raising his eyebrows and just thrusting his tongue between his teeth.

"Tell Mr. Grandcourt that his arrangements are just what I desired" - passing on without haste, and leaving Lush to mingle some admiration of her graceful back with a half-amused sense of her impertinence.


He really did not want her to be worse punished, and he was glad to think that it was time to go and lunch at the club, where he meant to have a lobster salad.

He really did not want her to be worse punished, and he was glad that it was time to go and lunch on lobster salad at his club.


When her husband returned he found her equipped in her riding-dress, ready to ride out with him.

When her husband returned he found Gwendolen in her riding-dress, ready to ride out with him.


She was not again going to be hysterical, or take to her bed and say she was ill. That was the implicit resolve adjusting her muscles before she could have framed it in words, as she walked out of the room, leaving Lush behind her.

She was not again going to be hysterical.


She was going to act in the spirit of her message, and not to give herself time to reflect.


She rang the bell for her maid, and went with the usual care through her change of toilet.


Doubtless her husband had meant to produce a great effect on her: by-and-by perhaps she would let him see an effect the very opposite of what he intended; but at present all that she could show was a defiant satisfaction in what had been presumed to be disagreeable.

Doubtless her husband had meant to produce a great effect on her: by-and-by perhaps she would let him see an effect the very opposite of what he intended; but at present all that she could show was a defiant satisfaction.


It came as an instinct rather than a thought, that to show any sign which could be interpreted as jealousy, when she had just been insultingly reminded that the conditions were what she had accepted with her eyes open, would be the worst self-humiliation.

To show anything that could be interpreted as jealousy would be the worst self-humiliation.


She said to herself that she had not time to-day to be clear about her future actions; all she could be clear about was that she would match her husband in ignoring any ground for excitement.

She was not clear about her future action, except that she would match her husband in indifference.


She not only rode, but went out with him to dine, contributing nothing to alter their mutual manner, which was never that of rapid interchange in discourse; and curiously enough she rejected a handkerchief on which her maid had by mistake put the wrong scent--a scent that Grandcourt had once objected to.

So she not only rode, but went out with him to dine, contributing nothing to alter their usual manner; and curiously enough she rejected a handkerchief on which her maid had put the wrong scent - a scent that Grandcourt had once objected to.


Gwendolen would not have liked to be an object of disgust to this husband whom she hated: she liked all disgust to be on her side.

Gwendolen would not have liked to be an object of disgust to this hated husband: she liked all disgust to be on her side.


But to defer thought in this way was something like trying to talk without singing in her own ears.

But to defer thought in this way proved impossible.


The thought that is bound up with our passion is as penetrative as air--everything is porous to it; bows, smiles, conversation, repartee, are mere honeycombs where such thoughts rushes freely, not always with a taste of honey.


And without shutting herself up in any solitude, Gwendolen seemed at the end of nine or ten hours to have gone through a labyrinth of reflection, in which already the same succession of prospects had been repeated, the same fallacious outlets rejected, the same shrinking from the necessities of every course.

After nine or ten hours she seemed to have gone through a labyrinth of reflection, in which every path was a dead end.


Already she was undergoing some hardening effect from feeling that she was under eyes which saw her past actions solely in the light of her lowest motives.

Already she was undergoing some hardening effect from feeling that she was viewed solely in the light of her lowest motives.


She lived back in the scenes of her courtship, with the new bitter consciousness of what had been in Grandcourt's mind--certain now, with her present experience of him, that he had a peculiar triumph in conquering her dumb repugnance, and that ever since their marriage he had had a cold exultation in knowing her fancied secret.

She recalled the scenes of her courtship, with the new bitter consciousness of what had been in Grandcourt's mind - certain that he had a triumph in conquering her repugnance, and a cold exultation in knowing her fancied secret.


Her imagination exaggerated every tyrannical impulse he was capable of.


"I will insist on being separated from him"--was her first darting determination; then, "I will leave him whether he consents or not.

"I will insist on being separated from him" - was her first darting determination; then, "I will leave him whether he consents or not.


If this boy becomes his heir, I have made an atonement."


But neither in darkness nor in daylight could she imagine the scenes which must carry out those determinations with the courage to feel them endurable.


How could she run away to her own family--carry distress among them, and render herself an object of scandal in the society she had left behind her?

How could she run away to her own family, causing them distress and scandal?


What future lay before her as Mrs. Grandcourt gone back to her mother, who would be made destitute again by the rupture of the marriage for which one chief excuse had been that it had brought that mother a maintenance?

What future lay before a Mrs. Grandcourt gone back to her mother, and made destitute by the rupture of the marriage whose chief excuse had been that it had brought that mother a maintenance?


She had lately been seeing her uncle and Anna in London, and though she had been saved from any difficulty about inviting them to stay in Grosvenor Square by their wish to be with Rex, who would not risk a meeting with her, the transient visit she had had from them helped now in giving stronger color to the picture of what it would be for her to take refuge in her own family.


What could she say to justify her flight?


Her aunt and Anna would look at her with wondering alarm.


Her husband would have power to compel her.


She had absolutely nothing that she could allege against him in judicious or judicial ears.

She had absolutely nothing that she could allege against him.


That was an easy combination of words; but considered as an action to be executed against Grandcourt, it would be about as practicable as to give him a pliant disposition and a dread of other people's unwillingness.

With Grandcourt, that was easier to say than do.


What was she to say that would not be a condemnation of herself?

What was she to say that would not condemn herself?


"If I am to have misery anyhow," was the bitter refrain of her rebellious dreams, "I had better have the misery that I can keep to myself."

"If I am to have misery," was her bitter refrain, "I had better keep it secret."


Moreover, her capability of rectitude told her again and again that she had no right to complain of her contract, or to withdraw from it.


And always among the images that drove her back to submission was Deronda.


The idea of herself separated from her husband, gave Deronda a changed, perturbing, painful place in her consciousness: instinctively she felt that the separation would be from him too, and in the prospective vision of herself as a solitary, dubiously-regarded woman, she felt some tingling bashfulness at the remembrance of her behavior towards him.

The idea of herself separated from her husband gave Deronda a changed, disturbing place in her mind: instinctively she felt that the separation would be from him too. In the prospect of herself as a solitary, dubiously-regarded woman, she felt some tingling bashfulness when she remembered her behaviour towards him.


The association of Deronda with a dubious position for herself was intolerable.


And what would he say if he knew everything?

What would he say if he knew everything?


Probably that she ought to bear what she had brought on herself, unless she were sure that she could make herself a better woman by taking any other course.


And what sort of woman was she to be--solitary, sickened of life, looked at with a suspicious kind of pity?--even if she could dream of success in getting that dreary freedom.

And what sort of woman would she be, solitary, sick of life, looked at with suspicious pity?


Mrs. Grandcourt "run away" would be a more pitiable creature than Gwendolen Harleth condemned to teach the bishop's daughters, and to be inspected by Mrs. Mompert.


One characteristic trait in her conduct is worth mentioning.


She would not look a second time at the paper Lush had given her; and before ringing for her maid she locked it up in a traveling-desk which was at hand, proudly resolved against curiosity about what was allotted to herself in connection with Gadsmere--feeling herself branded in the minds of her husband and his confidant with the meanness that would accept marriage and wealth on any conditions, however dishonorable and humiliating.

She would not look a second time at the paper Lush had given her, but locked it away, proudly resolved against curiosity about what was allotted to herself - feeling herself branded in her husband's mind with the meanness that would accept marriage and wealth on any conditions, however dishonourable.


Day after day the same pattern of thinking was repeated.

Day after day she thought along the same


There came nothing to change the situation--no new elements in the sketch--only a recurrence which engraved it.


The May weeks went on into June, and still Mrs. Grandcourt was outwardly in the same place, presenting herself as she was expected to do in the accustomed scenes, with the accustomed grace, beauty, and costume; from church at one end of the week, through all the scale of desirable receptions, to opera at the other.

May turned into June, and still Mrs. Grandcourt was presenting herself with the accustomed grace, beauty, and costume, whether at church or the opera.


Church was not markedly distinguished in her mind from the other forms of self-presentation, for marriage had included no instruction that enabled her to connect liturgy and sermon with any larger order of the world than that of unexplained and perhaps inexplicable social fashions.

Church was not distinguished in her mind from the other forms of self-presentation, for


While a laudable zeal was laboring to carry the light of spiritual law up the alleys where law is chiefly known as the policeman, the brilliant Mrs. Grandcourt, condescending a little to a fashionable rector and conscious of a feminine advantage over a learned dean, was, so far as pastoral care and religious fellowship were concerned, in as complete a solitude as a man in a lighthouse.

the brilliant Mrs. Grandcourt was, so far as pastoral care and religious fellowship were concerned, in as complete a solitude as a man in a lighthouse.


Can we wonder at the practical submission which hid her constructive rebellion?

Can we wonder at the submission which hid her rebellion?


The combination is common enough, as we know from the number of persons who make us aware of it in their own case by a clamorous unwearied statement of the reasons against their submitting to a situation which, on inquiry, we discover to be the least disagreeable within their reach.


Poor Gwendolen had both too much and too little mental power and dignity to make herself exceptional.


No wonder that Deronda now marked some hardening in a look and manner which were schooled daily to the suppression of feeling.

No wonder that Deronda now saw some hardening in a look and manner which were schooled daily to the suppression of feeling.


One morning, riding in Rotten Row with Grandcourt by her side, she saw standing against the railing at the turn, just facing them, a dark-eyed lady with a little girl and a blonde boy, whom she at once recognized as the beings in all the world the most painful for her to behold.

One morning, riding in Rotten Row with Grandcourt, she saw standing against the railing, facing them, a dark-eyed lady with a little girl and a blonde boy, whom she at once recognized as Mrs. Glasher.


She and Grandcourt had just slackened their pace to a walk; he being on the outer side was the nearer to the unwelcome vision, and Gwendolen had not presence of mind to do anything but glance away from the dark eyes that met hers piercingly toward Grandcourt, who wheeled past the group with an unmoved face, giving no sign of recognition.

Gwendolen had not presence of mind to do anything but glance away from the piercing dark eyes toward Grandcourt, who wheeled past the group with an unmoved face, giving no sign of recognition.


Immediately she felt a rising rage against him mingling with her shame for herself, and the words, "You might at least have raised your hat to her," flew impetuously to her lips--but did not pass them.

Immediately she felt a rising rage against him mingling with her shame, and the words, "You might at least have raised your hat to her," flew to her lips - but did not pass them.


If as her husband, in her company, he chose to ignore these creatures whom she herself had excluded from the place she was filling, how could she be the person to reproach him?

She was filling Mrs. Glasher's place: how could she be the person to reproach him?


It was not chance, but her own design, that had brought Mrs. Glasher there with her boy.

It was not chance, but design, that had brought Mrs. Glasher there with her boy.


She had come to town under the pretext of making purchases--really wanting educational apparatus for her children, and had had interviews with Lush in which she had not refused to soothe her uneasy mind by representing the probabilities as all on the side of her ultimate triumph.

Her interviews with Lush had made her think her ultimate triumph was probable.


Let her keep quiet, and she might live to see the marriage dissolve itself in one way or other--Lush hinted at several ways--leaving the succession assured to her boy.

Let her keep quiet, and she might live to see the marriage dissolve itself, Lush hinted, leaving the succession assured to her boy.


She had had an interview with Grandcourt, too, who had as usual told her to behave like a reasonable woman, and threatened punishment if she were troublesome; but had, also as usual, vindicated himself from any wish to be stingy, the money he was receiving from Sir Hugo on account of Diplow encouraging him to be lavish.

She had had an interview with Grandcourt, too, who had as usual told her to behave like a reasonable woman, and threatened punishment if she were troublesome; but had, also as usual, been lavish with his money.


Lydia, feeding on the probabilities in her favor, devoured her helpless wrath along with that pleasanter nourishment; but she could not let her discretion go entirely without the reward of making a Medusa-apparition before Gwendolen, vindictiveness and jealousy finding relief in an outlet of venom, though it were as futile as that of a viper already flung on the other side of the hedge.

Lydia, feeding on the probabilities in her favour, devoured her wrath; but she could not resist making a Medusa-apparition before Gwendolen, in a vindictive outlet of venom.


Hence, each day, after finding out from Lush the likely time for Gwendolen to be riding, she had watched at that post, daring Grandcourt so far.

Hence, after finding out from Lush the likely time for Gwendolen to be riding, she had watched at that place.


Why should she not take little Henleigh into the Park?


The Medusa-apparition was made effective beyond Lydia's conception by the shock it gave Gwendolen actually to see Grandcourt ignoring this woman who had once been the nearest in the world to him, along with the children she had borne him.

Her appearance was made effective beyond her conception by the shock it gave Gwendolen actually to see Grandcourt ignoring this woman, who had once been the nearest in the world to him, along with his children.


And all the while the dark shadow thus cast on the lot of a woman destitute of acknowledged social dignity, spread itself over her visions of a future that might be her own, and made part of her dread on her own behalf.

And this dark shadow thus cast spread itself over her visions of a solitary future.


She shrank all the more from any lonely action.


What possible release could there be for her from this hated vantage ground, which yet she dared not quit, any more than if fire had been raining outside it?


Gwendolen was not a woman who could easily think of her own death as a near reality, or front for herself the dark entrance on the untried and invisible.

Gwendolen could not easily think of her own death as a near reality.


It seemed more possible that Grandcourt should die:--and yet not likely.

It seemed more possible that Grandcourt should die:- and yet not likely.


The power of tyranny in him seemed a power of living in the presence of any wish that he should die.


The thought that his death was the only possible deliverance for her was one with the thought that deliverance would never come--the double deliverance from the injury with which other beings might reproach her and from the yoke she had brought on her own neck.


she foresaw him always living, and her own life dominated by him; the "always" of her young experience not stretching beyond the few immediate years that seemed immeasurably long with her passionate weariness.

she foresaw him always living, and her own life dominated by him; the "always" of her young experience not stretching beyond the next few years that seemed immeasurably long with her passionate weariness.


The thought of his dying would not subsist: it turned as with a dream-change into the terror that she should die with his throttling fingers on her neck avenging that thought.

The thought of his dying would not subside: it turned as with a dream-change into the terror that she should die with his throttling fingers on her neck avenging that thought.


Fantasies moved within her like ghosts, making no break in her more acknowledged consciousness and finding no obstruction in it: dark rays doing their work invisibly in the broad light.

Fantasies moved within her like ghosts, dark rays doing their work invisibly in daylight.


Only an evening or two after that encounter in the Park, there was a grand concert at Klesmer's, who was living rather magnificently now in one of the large houses in Grosvenor Place, a patron and prince among musical professors.

An evening or two after that encounter in the Park, there was a grand concert at Klesmer's, who was living rather magnificently now in one of the large houses in Grosvenor Place.


Gwendolen had looked forward to this occasion as one on which she was sure to meet Deronda, and she had been meditating how to put a question to him which, without containing a word that she would feel a dislike to utter, would yet be explicit enough for him to understand it.

Gwendolen had looked forward to this occasion as one on which she was sure to meet Deronda, and she had been meditating how to put a question to him which, without shaming herself, would yet be explicit enough for him to understand it.


The struggle of opposite feelings would not let her abide by her instinct that the very idea of Deronda's relation to her was a discouragement to any desperate step towards freedom.

She struggled with opposite feelings: the very idea of Deronda's relation to her discouraged her from taking any desperate step towards freedom


The next wave of emotion was a longing for some word of his to enforce a resolve.

, but she longed for some word of his to enforce a resolve.


The fact that her opportunities of conversation with him had always to be snatched in the doubtful privacy of large parties, caused her to live through them many times beforehand, imagining how they would take place and what she would say.

Because any conversations with him had always to be snatched in the doubtful privacy of large parties, she lived through them many times beforehand, imagining what she would say.


The irritation was proportionate when no opportunity came; and this evening at Klesmer's she included Deronda in her anger, because he looked as calm as possible at a distance from her, while she was in danger of betraying her impatience to every one who spoke to her.

Her irritation was great when no opportunity came; and this evening at Klesmer's she included Deronda in her anger, because he looked as calm as possible at a distance from her, while she was in danger of betraying her impatience.


She found her only safety in a chill haughtiness which made Mr. Vandernoodt remark that Mrs. Grandcourt was becoming a perfect match for her husband.


When at last the chances of the evening brought Deronda near her, Sir Hugo and Mrs. Raymond were close by and could hear every word she said.

When at last Deronda was near her, Sir Hugo and Mrs. Raymond were close by and could hear every word she said.


No matter: her husband was not near, and her irritation passed without check into a fit of daring which restored the security of her self-possession.

No matter: her husband was not near, and her irritation passed without check into a fit of daring which restored her self-possession.


Deronda was there at last, and she would compel him to do what she pleased.


Already and without effort rather queenly in her air as she stood in her white lace and green leaves she threw a royal permissiveness into her way of saying, "I wish you would come and see me to-morrow between five and six, Mr. Deronda."

Standing rather queenly in her white lace and green leaves she threw a royal permissiveness into her request, "I wish you would come and see me tomorrow between five and six, Mr. Deronda."


There could be but one answer at that moment: "Certainly," with a tone of obedience.

There could be but one answer: "Certainly."


Afterward it occurred to Deronda that he would write a note to excuse himself.


He had always avoided making a call at Grandcourt's.


He could not persuade himself to any step that might hurt her, and whether his excuse were taken for indifference or for the affectation of indifference it would be equally wounding.

But his excuse might be taken as an indifference that would hurt her,


Gwendolen had declined to ride out on the plea of not feeling well enough having left her refusal to the last moment when the horses were soon to be at the door--not without alarm lest her husband should say that he too would stay at home.

Gwendolen had declined to ride out on the last-minute plea of not feeling well - not without alarm lest her husband should say that he too would stay at home.


Become almost superstitious about his power of suspicious divination, she had a glancing forethought of what she would do in that case--namely, have herself denied as not well.


But Grandcourt accepted her excuse without remark, and rode off.


Nevertheless when Gwendolen found herself alone, and had sent down the order that only Mr. Deronda was to be admitted, she began to be alarmed at what she had done, and to feel a growing agitation in the thought that he would soon appear, and she should soon be obliged to speak: not of trivialities, as if she had no serious motive in asking him to come: and yet what she had been for hours determining to say began to seem impossible.

When Gwendolen found herself alone, and had sent down the order that only Mr. Deronda was to be admitted, she began to feel a growing agitation in the thought that he would soon appear, and she should be obliged to speak: yet what she had been for hours determining to say seemed impossible.


For the first time the impulse of appeal to him was being checked by timidity, and now that it was too late she was shaken by the possibility that he might think her invitation unbecoming.

For the first time, she felt timid, and was shaken by the possibility that he might think her invitation unbecoming.


If so, she would have sunk in his esteem.


But immediately she resisted this intolerable fear as an infection from her husband's way of thinking.

But immediately she resisted this fear as an infection from her husband's way of thinking.


That _he_ would say she was making a fool of herself was rather a reason why such a judgment would be remote from Deronda's mind.


But that she could not rid herself from this sudden invasion of womanly reticence was manifest in a kind of action which had never occurred to her before.


In her struggle between agitation and the effort to suppress it, she was walking up and down the length of the two drawing-rooms, where at one end a long mirror reflected her in her black dress, chosen in the early morning with a half-admitted reference to this hour.

In her struggle between agitation and the effort to suppress it, she was walking up and down the length of two drawing-rooms, where at one end a long mirror reflected her in her black dress, with


But above this black dress her head on its white pillar of a neck showed to advantage.

her white pillar of a neck shown to advantage.


Some consciousness of this made her turn hastily and hurry to the boudoir, where again there was a glass, but also, tossed over a chair, a large piece of black lace which she snatched and tied over her crown of hair so as completely to conceal her neck, and leave only her face looking out from the black frame.

Some consciousness of this made her turn hastily and hurry to the boudoir, where she tied a large piece of black lace so as completely to conceal her neck, and leave only her face looking out from the black frame.


In this manifest contempt of appearance, she thought it possible to be freer from nervousness, but the black lace did not take away the uneasiness from her eyes and lips.

However, the lace did not take away the uneasiness from her eyes and lips.


She was standing in the middle of the room when Deronda was announced, and as he approached her she perceived that he too for some reason was not his usual self.


She could not have defined the change except by saying that he looked less happy than usual, and appeared to be under some effort in speaking to her.

He looked less happy than usual, and appeared to be under some effort in speaking to her.


And yet the speaking was the slightest possible.


quite curtly; and Gwendolen, instead of sitting down, moved to a little distance, resting her arms slightly on the tall back of a chair, while Deronda stood where he was,--both feeling it difficult to say any more, though the preoccupation in his mind could hardly have been more remote than it was from Gwendolen's conception.

quite curtly; and Gwendolen moved to a little distance, while Deronda stood where he was,- both feeling it difficult to say any more, though the preoccupation in his mind could hardly have been more remote from Gwendolen's idea.


She naturally saw in his embarrassment some reflection of her own.


Forced to speak, she found all her training in concealment and self-command of no use to her and began with timid awkwardness,

Forced to speak, she began with unusually timid awkwardness-


"You will wonder why I begged you to come.


And at this moment she was feeling it utterly impossible to put the questions she had intended.

At this moment she was feeling it utterly impossible to put the questions she had intended.


Something new in her nervous manner roused Deronda's anxiety lest there might be a new crisis.


He said with the sadness of affection in his voice,

He said with sad affection in his voice-


"My only regret is, that I can be of so little use to you."


The words and the tone touched a new spring in her, and she went on with more sense of freedom, yet still not saying anything she had designed to say, and beginning to hurry, that she might somehow arrive at the right words.

The words touched a new spring in her, and she went on with more sense of freedom, yet still not saying anything she had designed to say.


"I wanted to tell you that I have always been thinking of your advice, but is it any use?--I can't make myself different, because things about me raise bad feelings--and I must go on--I can alter nothing--it is no use."

"I wanted to tell you that I have always been thinking of your advice, but is it any use? I can't make myself different, because things give me bad feelings - and I must go on - I can alter nothing - it is no use."


She paused an instant, with the consciousness that she was not finding the right words, but began again hurriedly, "But if I go on I shall get worse.

She paused, conscious that she was not finding the right words, but began again hurriedly, "But if I go on I shall get worse.


There are people who are good and enjoy great things--I know there are.

There are people who are good and enjoy great things - I know there are.


I feel as if I should get wicked with hating people.


I have tried to think that I would go away from everybody.


She had forgotten everything but that image of her helpless misery which she was trying to make present to Deronda in broken allusive speech--wishing to convey but not express all her need.

She had forgotten everything but that helpless misery which she was trying to convey to Deronda.


Her eyes were tearless, and had a look of smarting in their dilated brilliancy; there was a subdued sob in her voice which was more and more veiled, till it was hardly above a whisper.

Her brilliant, tearless eyes had a look of smarting; there was a subdued sob in her voice, which sank to hardly above a whisper.


She was hurting herself with the jewels that glittered on her tightly-clasped fingers pressed against her heart.

Her tightly-clasped fingers pressed against her heart.


The feeling Deronda endured in these moments he afterward called horrible.

The feeling Deronda endured in these moments was horrible.


Words seemed to have no more rescue in them than if he had been beholding a vessel in peril of wreck--the poor ship with its many-lived anguish beaten by the inescapable storm.

Words seemed to have no more rescue in them than if he had been beholding a vessel in peril of wreck, beaten by an inescapable storm.


How could he grasp the long-growing process of this young creature's wretchedness?--how arrest and change it with a sentence?

How could he grasp her wretchedness? - how change it with a sentence?


The words that rushed into his mind seemed in their feebleness nothing better than despair made audible, or than that insensibility to another's hardship which applies precept to soothe pain.

The words that rushed into his mind seemed feeble and trite.


He felt himself holding a crowd of words imprisoned within his lips, as if the letting them escape would be a violation of awe before the mysteries of our human lot.


The thought that urged itself foremost was--"Confess everything to your husband; have nothing concealed:"--the words carried in his mind a vision of reasons which would have needed much fuller expressions for Gwendolen to apprehend them, but before he had begun those brief sentences, the door opened and the husband entered.

The thought that urged itself foremost was- "Confess everything to your husband; conceal nothing:" - but before he had begun to speak, the door opened and the husband entered.


Grandcourt had deliberately gone out and turned back to satisfy a suspicion.


What he saw was Gwendolen's face of anguish framed black like a nun's, and Deronda standing three yards from her with a look of sorrow such as he might have bent on the last struggle of life in a beloved object.

What he saw was Gwendolen's face of anguish, framed black like a nun's, and Deronda standing three yards from her with a look of deep sorrow.


Without any show of surprise Grandcourt nodded to Deronda, gave a second look at Gwendolen, passed on, and seated himself easily at a little distance crossing his legs, taking out his handkerchief and trifling with it elegantly.

Without any show of surprise Grandcourt nodded to Deronda, gave a second look at Gwendolen, passed on, and seated himself easily at a little distance, crossing his legs, and trifling elegantly with his handkerchief.


Gwendolen had shrunk and changed her attitude on seeing him, but she did not turn or move from her place.

Gwendolen had shrunk on seeing him, but she did not move from her place.


It was not a moment in which she could feign anything, or manifest any strong revulsion of feeling: the passionate movement of her last speech was still too strong within her.

She could not feign anything: the passion of her last speech was still too strong within her.


What she felt beside was a dull despairing sense that her interview with Deronda was at an end: a curtain had fallen.

She felt a dull despairing sense that her interview with Deronda was at an end.


But he, naturally, was urged into self-possession and effort by susceptibility to what might follow for her from being seen by her husband in this betrayal of agitation; and feeling that any pretense of ease in prolonging his visit would only exaggerate Grandcourt's possible conjectures of duplicity, he merely said,

But he, naturally, was urged into self-possession and effort by thinking of what might follow for her from being seen by her husband in this agitation; and as any pretence of ease would only exaggerate Grandcourt's possible conjectures, he merely said-


He put out his hand, and she let him press her poor little chill fingers; but she said no good-bye.


When he had left the room, Gwendolen threw herself into a seat, with an expectation as dull as her despair--the expectation that she was going to be punished.

When he had left, Gwendolen threw herself into a seat, with a dull expectation that she was going to be punished.


But Grandcourt took no notice: he was satisfied to have let her know that she had not deceived him, and to keep a silence which was formidable with omniscience.

But Grandcourt took no notice: he was satisfied to have let her know that she had not deceived him, and to keep an omniscient silence.


He went out that evening, and her plea of feeling ill was accepted without even a sneer.


The next morning at breakfast he said, "I am going yachting to the Mediterranean."


said Gwendolen, with a leap of heart which had hope in it.


"Shall I have mamma to stay with me, then?"


said Gwendolen, the new sudden possibility of peace and affection filling her mind like a burst of morning light.


"My desolation does begin to make A better life."


Before Deronda was summoned to a second interview with his mother, a day had passed in which she had only sent him a message to say that she was not yet well enough to receive him again; but on the third morning he had a note saying, "I leave to-day.

On the third morning after his meeting with his mother, Deronda had a note from her saying, "I leave today.


He was shown into the same room as before; but it was much darkened with blinds and curtains.

He was shown into the same room as before, but darkened with blinds.


The Princess was not there, but she presently entered, dressed in a loose wrap of some soft silk, in color a dusky orange, her head again with black lace floating about it, her arms showing themselves bare from under her wide sleeves.

The Princess presently entered, dressed in a loose wrap of dusky orange silk, with black lace about her head.


Her face seemed even more impressive in the sombre light, the eyes larger, the lines more vigorous.


You might have imagined her a sorceress who would stretch forth her wonderful hand and arm to mix youth-potions for others, but scorned to mix them for herself, having had enough of youth.

You might have imagined her a sorceress.


She put her arms on her son's shoulders at once, and kissed him on both cheeks, then seated herself among her cushions with an air of assured firmness and dignity unlike her fitfulness in their first interview, and told Deronda to sit down by her.

She kissed Deronda on both cheeks, then seated herself among her cushions, and told Deronda to sit down by her.


He obeyed, saying, "You are quite relieved now, I trust?"


"Is there anything more that you would like to ask me?"


she said, with the matter of a queen rather than of a mother.


"Can I find the house in Genoa where you used to live with my grandfather?"


"No," she answered, with a deprecating movement of her arm, "it is pulled down--not to be found.


But about our family, and where my father lived at various times--you will find all that among the papers in the chest, better than I can tell you.

But you will find out about our family from the papers in the chest.


I used to hear all those things without listening.


I was born amongst them without my will.


Deronda tried to hide his pained feeling, and said, "Anything else that I should desire to know from you could only be what it is some satisfaction to your own feeling to tell me."

Deronda tried to hide his pained feeling, and said, "Is there anything else you wish to tell me?"


"I think I have told you everything that could be demanded of me," said the Princess, looking coldly meditative.

"I think I have told you everything that could be demanded of me," said the Princess coldly.


It seemed as if she had exhausted her emotion in their former interview.


The fact was, she had said to herself, "I have done it all.

The fact was, she had said to herself, "I have confessed all.


But to Deronda's nature the moment was cruel; it made the filial yearning of his life a disappointed pilgrimage to a shrine where there were no longer the symbols of sacredness.

But to Deronda the moment was cruel; it made the filial yearning of his life a disappointed pilgrimage to a ruined shrine.


It seemed that all the woman lacking in her was present in him, as he said, with some tremor in his voice,


"Then are we to part and I never be anything to you?"

"Then are we to part and I never to be anything to you?"


"It is better so," said the Princess, in a softer, mellower voice.

"It is better so," said the Princess, in a softer voice.


"There could be nothing but hard duty for you, even if it were possible for you to take the place of my son.

"There could be nothing but hard duty for you.


Don't deny it," she said, abruptly, putting up her hand.


You are on your grandfather's side, and you will always have a condemnation of me in your heart."

You are on your grandfather's side, and you will always condemn me in your heart."


Deronda felt himself under a ban of silence.


He rose from his seat by her, preferring to stand, if he had to obey that imperious prohibition of any tenderness.


But his mother now looked up at him with a new admiration in her glance, saying,

But his mother now looked at him with a new admiration in her glance, saying-


After pausing a little, she added, abruptly, "And now tell me what you shall do?"


"Do you mean now, immediately," said Deronda; "or as to the course of my future life?"


What difference will it make to you that I have told you about your birth?"

What difference will it make that I have told you about your birth?"


"A very great difference," said Deronda, emphatically.


"I can hardly think of anything that would make a greater difference."


"Make yourself just like your grandfather--be what he wished you--turn yourself into a Jew like him?"

"Make yourself into a Jew just like your grandfather?"


The effect of my education can never be done away with.


The Christian sympathies in which my mind was reared can never die out of me," said Deronda, with increasing tenacity of tone.


"But I consider it my duty--it is the impulse of my feeling--to identify myself, as far as possible, with my hereditary people, and if I can see any work to be done for them that I can give my soul and hand to I shall choose to do it."

"But it is my duty and my impulse to identify myself, as far as possible, with my hereditary people, and if I can do any work for them that I can give my soul and hand to, I shall do it."


His mother had her eyes fixed on him with a wondering speculation, examining his face as if she thought that by close attention she could read a difficult language there.

His mother studied him with a wondering speculation, as if she could read a difficult language in his face


He bore her gaze very firmly, sustained by a resolute opposition, which was the expression of his fullest self.

, while he bore her gaze with firm resolution.


She bent toward him a little, and said, with a decisive emphasis,


Deronda colored and said, "My reasons would be independent of any such fact."

Deronda coloured. "My reasons would be independent of any such fact."


I have seen what men are," said the Princess, peremptorily.

I have seen what men are," said the Princess.


She is a Jewess who will not accept any one but a Jew.

She is a Jewess who will not accept anyone but a Jew.


There _are_ a few such," she added, with a touch of scorn.

There are a few such," she added, with a touch of scorn.


Deronda had that objection to answer which we all have known in speaking to those who are too certain of their own fixed interpretations to be enlightened by anything we may say.


But besides this, the point immediately in question was one on which he felt a repugnance either to deny or affirm.


He remained silent, and she presently said,

Deronda remained silent, and she presently said, with rising passion-


"You love her as your father loved me, and she draws you after her as I drew him."


Those words touched Deronda's filial imagination, and some tenderness in his glance was taken by his mother as an assent.


She went on with rising passion: "But I was leading him the other way.


And now your grandfather is getting his revenge."


"Mother," said Deronda, remonstrantly, "don't let us think of it in that way.

"Mother, don't let us think of it in that way.


I will admit that there may come some benefit from the education you chose for me.

I admit that there may come some benefit from the education you chose for me.


I prefer cherishing the benefit with gratitude, to dwelling with resentment on the injury.

I prefer cherishing the benefit, to dwelling with resentment on the injury.


I think it would have been right that I should have been brought up with the consciousness that I was a Jew, but it must always have been a good to me to have as wide an instruction and sympathy as possible.

I think it would have been right that I should have been brought up knowing that I was a Jew, but I had a good upbringing.


And now, you have restored me my inheritance--events have brought a fuller restitution than you could have made--you have been saved from robbing my people of my service and me of my duty: can you not bring your whole soul to consent to this?"

And now, you have restored my inheritance - you have been saved from robbing me of my duty: can you not bring yourself to consent to this?"


Deronda paused in his pleading: his mother looked at him listeningly, as if the cadence of his voice were taking her ear, yet she shook her head slowly.


"You have told me that you sought what you held the best for me: open your heart to relenting and love toward my grandfather, who sought what he held the best for you."

"You have told me that you sought what you held the best for me: open your heart and relent toward my grandfather, who sought what he held the best for you."


"Not for me, no," she said, shaking her head with more absolute denial, and folding her arms tightly.

"Not for me, no," she said, shaking her head, and folding her arms tightly.


"I tell you, he never thought of his daughter except as an instrument.

"He never thought of his daughter except as an instrument.


Because I had wants outside his purpose, I was to be put in a frame and tortured.

Because I had wishes outside his purpose, I was to be put in a frame and tortured.


If that is the right law for the world, I will not say that I love it.


If my acts were wrong--if it is God who is exacting from me that I should deliver up what I withheld--who is punishing me because I deceived my father and did not warn him that I should contradict his trust--well, I have told everything.

If my acts were wrong - well, I have told everything.


I have after all been the instrument my father wanted.--'I desire a grandson who shall have a true Jewish heart.

I have after all been the instrument my father wanted - 'I desire a grandson who shall have a true Jewish heart.'"


Every Jew should rear his family as if he hoped that a Deliverer might spring from it.'"


In uttering these last sentences the Princess narrowed her eyes, waved her head up and down, and spoke slowly with a new kind of chest-voice, as if she were quoting unwillingly.


"Yes, yes; and you will find them written.


I wanted to thwart him," said the Princess, with a sudden outburst of the passion she had shown in the former interview.

I wanted to thwart him," said the Princess, with a sudden outburst of passion.


Then she added more slowly, "You would have me love what I have hated from the time I was so high"--here she held her left hand a yard from the floor.--"That can never be.

"You would have me love what I have hated since I was small.


His yoke has been on me, whether I loved it or not.


You speak as men do--as if you felt yourself wise.

You speak as men do - as if you felt yourself wise.


Deronda, in his pained feeling, and under the solemn urgency of the moment, had to keep a clutching remembrance of their relationship, lest his words should become cruel.

Deronda, pained, had to remember their relationship, lest his words should become cruel.


"Mother, don't say that I feel myself wise.


We are set in the midst of difficulties.


I see no other way to get any clearness than by being truthful--not by keeping back facts which may--which should carry obligation within them--which should make the only guidance toward duty.

I think only the truth can bring us guidance toward duty.


No wonder if such facts come to reveal themselves in spite of concealments.


The effects prepared by generations are likely to triumph over a contrivance which would bend them all to the satisfaction of self.


Your will was strong, but my grandfather's trust which you accepted and did not fulfill--what you call his yoke--is the expression of something stronger, with deeper, farther-spreading roots, knit into the foundations of sacredness for all men.

Your will was strong, but my grandfather's trust in you - what you call his yoke - is the expression of something stronger, with deeper roots.


You renounced me--you still banish me--as a son"--there was an involuntary movement of indignation in Deronda's voice--"But that stronger Something has determined that I shall be all the more the grandson whom also you willed to annihilate."

You renounced me - you banish me as a son"- there was an involuntary indignation in Deronda's voice- "but that stronger Something has determined that I shall be the grandson whom you willed to annihilate."


His mother was watching him fixedly, and again her face gathered admiration.


After a moment's silence she said, in a low, persuasive tone,


"Sit down again," and he obeyed, placing himself beside her.

"Sit down again," she said, and he obeyed.


She laid her hand on his shoulder and went on,

She laid her hand on his shoulder and went on-


What could you do for me but weary your own patience?


My sense of life is little more than a sense of what was--except when the pain is present.


Now you are come back to me, and I cannot make you a joy.


Have you the cursing spirit of the Jew in you?


Shall you be glad to think that I am punished because I was not a Jewish mother to you?"

Shall you be glad to think that I am punished?"


"Have I not besought you that I might now at least be a son to you?


My grief is that you have declared me helpless to comfort you.


I would give up much that is dear for the sake of soothing your anguish."

I would give up much to soothe your anguish."


"You shall give up nothing," said his mother, with the hurry of agitation.

"You shall give up nothing," said his mother, agitated.


You shall feel for me as they feel for the dead whom they say prayers for--you shall long that I may be freed from all suffering--from all punishment.

You shall pray that I may be freed from suffering.


And I shall see you instead of always seeing your grandfather.


Will any harm come to me because I broke his trust in the daylight after he was gone into darkness?


I cannot tell:--if you think _Kaddish_ will help me--say it, say it.

If you think Kaddish will help me, say it.


When I am in your mind, you will look as you do now--always as if you were a tender son--always--as if I had been a tender mother."

When I am in your mind, you will look as you do now - as if you were a tender son - as if I had been a tender mother."


She seemed resolved that her agitation should not conquer her, but he felt her hand trembling on his shoulder.


Deep, deep compassion hemmed in all words.


With a face of beseeching he put his arm around her and pressed her head tenderly under his.

Putting his arm around her, he pressed her head tenderly to his.


Then she lifted her head again and rose from her seat with a great sigh, as if in that breath she were dismissing a weight of thoughts.

Then she lifted her head and rose from her seat with a sigh.


Deronda, standing in front of her, felt that the parting was near.


But one of her swift alternations had come upon his mother.


It was not a moment for deliberate explanation.


"Not one who must have a path of her own?"


"I think her nature is not given to make great claims."


said the Princess, taking from her wallet a miniature with jewels around it, and holding it before her son.

said the Princess, taking from her wallet a miniature.


It was her own in all the fire of youth, and as Deronda looked at it with admiring sadness, she said, "Had I not a rightful claim to be something more than a mere daughter and mother?

It was her own portrait in youth, and as Deronda looked at it with admiring sadness, she said, "Had I not a rightful claim to be more than a mere daughter and mother?


The voice and the genius matched the face.


Whatever else was wrong, acknowledge that I had a right to be an artist, though my father's will was against it.

Whatever else was wrong, acknowledge that I had a right to be an artist."


"I do acknowledge that," said Deronda, looking from the miniature to her face, which even in its worn pallor had an expression of living force beyond anything that the pencil could show.


"If she is a kind woman, teach her to think of me kindly."


"I shall be grateful for the portrait," said Deronda, "but--I ought to say, I have no assurance that she whom I love will have any love for me.

"I shall be grateful for the portrait," said Deronda, "but I have no assurance that she whom I love will have any love for me.


"She was brought up as a singer for the stage," said Deronda, with inward reluctance.

"She was brought up as a singer for the stage," he said reluctantly.


"Her father took her away early from her mother, and her life has been unhappy.


Her father wished to bring her up in disregard--even in dislike of her Jewish origin, but she has clung with all her affection to the memory of her mother and the fellowship of her people."

Her father wished to bring her up in disregard of her Jewish origin, but she has clung with affection to the memory of her mother and her people."


She is attached to the Judaism she knows nothing of," said the Princess, peremptorily.


"That is poetry--fit to last through an opera night.


Is she fond of her artist's life--is her singing worth anything?"


But her voice is not suited to the stage.


I think that the artist's life has been made repugnant to her."

, and the artist's life has been made repugnant to her."


Sir Hugo said you were bitterly against being a singer, and I can see that you would never have let yourself be merged in a wife, as your father was."

Sir Hugo said you were bitterly against being a singer."


"I repeat," said Deronda, emphatically--"I repeat that I have no assurance of her love for me, of the possibility that we can ever be united.

"I repeat," said Deronda, emphatically, "that I have no assurance of her love for me.


Other things--painful issues may lie before me.


I have always felt that I should prepare myself to renounce, not cherish that prospect.


But I suppose I might feel so of happiness in general.


Whether it may come or not, one should try and prepare one's self to do without it."

may come or not, one should prepare one's self to do without it."


said his mother, laying her hands on his shoulders, and perusing his face, while she spoke in a low meditative tone, pausing between her sentences.


"Poor boy!----I wonder how it would have been if I had kept you with me----whether you would have turned your heart to the old things against mine----and we should have quarreled----your grandfather would have been in you----and you would have hampered my life with your young growth from the old root."

"Poor boy! I wonder how it would have been if I had kept you with me - whether we should have quarrelled - your grandfather would have been in you - and you would have hampered my life."


"I think my affection might have lasted through all our quarreling," said Deronda, saddened more and more, "and that would not have hampered--surely it would have enriched your life."

"I think my affection might have lasted through our quarrelling," said Deronda, saddened, "and that surely would have enriched your life."


"Not then, not then----I did not want it then----I might have been glad of it now," said the mother, with a bitter melancholy, "if I could have been glad of anything."

"Not then, I did not want it then. I might have been glad of it now," said the mother, with a bitter melancholy.


"But you love your other children, and they love you?"


"Oh, yes," she answered, as to a question about a matter of course, while she folded her arms again.


"But,"----she added in a deeper tone,----"I am not a loving woman.


Others have loved me--and I have acted their love.


I know very well what love makes of men and women--it is subjection.

I know what love makes of men and women - it is subjection.


It takes another for a larger self, enclosing this one,"--she pointed to her own bosom.


"I was never willingly subject to any man.


"Perhaps the man who was subject was the happier of the two," said Deronda--not with a smile, but with a grave, sad sense of his mother's privation.


"Perhaps--but I _was_ happy--for a few years I was happy.


If I had not been afraid of defeat and failure, I might have gone on.


Men talk of 'another life,' as if it only began on the other side of the grave.


With the last words she raised her arms till they were bare to the elbow, her brow was contracted in one deep fold, her eyes were closed, her voice was smothered: in her dusky flame-colored garment, she looked like a dreamed visitant from some region of departed mortals.

Her eyes were closed, her voice was smothered: in her dusky flame-coloured garment, she looked like a visitant from some land of the dead.


Deronda's feeling was wrought to a pitch of acuteness in which he was no longer quite master of himself.

Deronda was no longer quite master of himself.


His mother opened her eyes, and letting her hands again rest on his shoulders, said,


He clasped his arms round her neck, and they kissed each other.


Deronda did not know how he got out of the room.


All his boyish yearnings and anxieties about his mother had vanished.

All his boyish yearnings about his mother had vanished.


He had gone through a tragic experience which must forever solemnize his life and deepen the significance of the acts by which he bound himself to others.

He had gone through a tragic experience which must forever solemnize his life.


"Her wit Values itself so highly, that to her All matter else seems weak."