She let the punctilious whim pass, sure that her natural _bont_ (I use this French word because it expresses just what I mean--neither goodness nor good-nature, but something between the two) would presently get the upper hand.

, sure that Hortense's natural good-nature would soon prevail.


Hortense had no sooner examined her face well, and observed the change its somewhat wasted features betrayed, than her mien softened.

: when Hortense had examined her face, and observed the change in it, her manner softened.


Kissing her on both cheeks, she asked anxiously after her health.


It would, however, have been her lot to undergo a long cross-examination, followed by an endless lecture on this head, had not Miss Mann called off the attention of the questioner by requesting to be conducted home.

; but was spared a long cross-examination when Miss Mann asked to be taken home.


Her weariness made her cross--too cross almost to speak to Caroline; and besides, that young person's white dress and lively look were displeasing in the eyes of Miss Mann.

Her weariness made her almost too cross to speak to Caroline;


The everyday garb of brown stuff or gray gingham, and the everyday air of melancholy, suited the solitary spinster better; she would hardly know her young friend to-night, and quitted her with a cool nod.


Hortense having promised to accompany her home, they departed together.


She saw the rainbow scarf and purple dress in the centre of a throng of ladies, all well known to herself, but all of the order whom she systematically avoided whenever avoidance was possible.

She saw the rainbow scarf and purple dress in the centre of a throng of ladies, all ones whom she herself avoided whenever possible.


Shyer at some moments than at others, she felt just now no courage at all to join this company.

She felt no courage at all to join this company.


She could not, however, stand alone where all others went in pairs or parties; so she approached a group of her own scholars, great girls, or rather young women, who were standing watching some hundreds of the younger children playing at blind-man's buff.

She could not stand alone, however; so she approached a group of her own scholars, great girls, or rather young women, who were standing watching the younger children playing blind-man's buff.


Miss Helstone knew these girls liked her, yet she was shy even with them out of school.

Miss Helstone knew these girls liked her, yet she was shy even with them.


They were not more in awe of her than she of them.


She drew near them now, rather to find protection in their company than to patronize them with her presence.

She drew near them rather to find protection in their company than to patronize them with her presence.


By some instinct they knew her weakness, and with natural politeness they respected it.


Her knowledge commanded their esteem when she taught them; her gentleness attracted their regard; and because she was what they considered wise and good when _on_ duty, they kindly overlooked her evident timidity when off.

Her knowledge commanded their esteem when she taught them; her gentleness made them like her, and so they kindly overlooked her timidity when off duty.


Peasant girls as they were, they had too much of our own English sensibility to be guilty of the coarse error.


They stood round her still, civil, friendly, receiving her slight smiles and rather hurried efforts to converse with a good feeling and good breeding--the last quality being the result of the first--which soon set her at her ease.

civil and friendly, receiving her hurried efforts to converse with a good feeling and good breeding, which soon set her at her ease.


Mr. Sam Wynne coming up with great haste, to insist on the elder girls joining in the game as well as the younger ones, Caroline was again left alone.

On Mr. Sam Wynne hurrying over to insist on the elder girls joining in the game, Caroline was again left alone.


She was meditating a quiet retreat to the house, when Shirley, perceiving from afar her isolation, hastened to her side.

She was meditating a quiet retreat to the house, when Shirley came to her side.


"Let us go to the top of the fields," she said.


"I know you don't like crowds, Caroline."


"But it will be depriving you of a pleasure, Shirley, to take you from all these fine people, who court your society so assiduously, and to whom you can, without art or effort, make yourself so pleasant."

"But it will be depriving you of a pleasure, Shirley, to take you away from all these fine people, who court your society, and to whom you can, without effort, make yourself so pleasant."


"Not quite without effort; I am already tired of the exertion.


It is but insipid, barren work, talking and laughing with the good gentlefolks of Briarfield.

It is insipid work, talking and laughing with the good gentlefolks of Briarfield.


I have been looking out for your white dress for the last ten minutes.

I have been looking for your white dress for the last ten minutes.


I like to watch those I love in a crowd, and to compare them with others.


There are some prettier faces than yours here.


You are not a model beauty like Harriet Sykes, for instance--beside her your person appears almost insignificant--but you look agreeable, you look reflective, you look what I call interesting."

; Harriet Sykes, for instance; but you look agreeable, you look reflective, you look what I call interesting."


"I don't wonder that your scholars like you."


"We will talk of Moore, then, and we will watch him.


And as Caroline asked the question she looked not over the fields, but into Miss Keeldar's eyes, as was her wont whenever Shirley mentioned any object she descried afar.


Her friend had quicker vision than herself, and Caroline seemed to think that the secret of her eagle acuteness might be read in her dark gray irides, or rather, perhaps, she only sought guidance by the direction of those discriminating and brilliant spheres.


"There is Moore," said Shirley, pointing right across the wide field where a thousand children were playing, and now nearly a thousand adult spectators walking about.

"There is Moore," said Shirley, pointing right across the wide field where a thousand children were playing, and a thousand adult spectators walking about.


"There--can you miss the tall stature and straight port?

"There - can you miss the tall stature and straight figure?


He looks amidst the set that surround him like Eliab amongst humbler shepherds--like Saul in a war-council; and a war-council it is, if I am not mistaken."

He looks like Saul in a war-council; and a war-council it is, if I am not mistaken."


asked Caroline, whose eye had at last caught the object it sought.

asked Caroline, whose eye had at last found him.


"Robert is just now speaking to my uncle, and they are shaking hands.


"Reconciled not without good reason, depend on it--making common cause against some common foe.

"Not without good reason, depend on it - making common cause against some foe.


And why, think you, are Messrs. Wynne and Sykes, and Armitage and Ramsden, gathered in such a close circle round them?


And why is Malone beckoned to join them?


Where _he_ is summoned, be sure a strong arm is needed."

Where he is summoned, be sure a strong arm is needed."


Shirley, as she watched, grew restless; her eyes flashed.

Shirley grew restless; her eyes flashed.


"That is always the way when it comes to the point."


There is some mystery afloat; some event is expected; some preparation is to be made, I am certain.


I saw it all in Mr. Moore's manner this evening.

I saw it in Mr. Moore's manner this evening.


We seldom converse _tte--tte_ but I am made to feel that the basis of his character is not of eider down."

I am made to feel that the basis of his character is not of eiderdown."


Yet the man is peremptory and secret: his secrecy vexes me."


"Which he has scarcely a right to be with me, especially as he commenced by giving me his confidence.

He scarcely has a right to be secret with me, as he commenced by giving me his confidence.


Having done nothing to forfeit that confidence, it ought not to be withdrawn; but I suppose I am not considered iron-souled enough to be trusted in a crisis."

It ought not to be withdrawn; but I suppose I am not considered iron-souled enough to be trusted in a crisis."


"He fears, probably, to occasion you uneasiness."

"He fears, probably, to make you uneasy."


I am of elastic materials, not soon crushed.


He has his faults, say what you will, Lina.


"If we keep on the alert, Shirley, we shall perhaps find the clue to their secret."


"There will be some unusual movements ere long--perhaps to-morrow, possibly to-night.

There will be some unusual movements before long.


Mr. Moore, you shall be under surveillance.


"Shaking hands, with emphasis," added Shirley, "as if they were ratifying some solemn league and covenant."


They saw Robert quit the group, pass through a gate, and disappear.


"And he has not bid us good-bye," murmured Caroline.


Scarcely had the words escaped her lips when she tried by a smile to deny the confession of disappointment they seemed to imply.

At once she tried to smile to hide her disappointment.


An unbidden suffusion for one moment both softened and brightened her eyes.


exclaimed Shirley: "we'll _make_ him bid us good-bye."

exclaimed Shirley: "we'll make him bid us good-bye.


That is not the same thing," was the answer.


"But he is gone; you can't overtake him."


"I know a shorter way than that he has taken.


Caroline said this as Miss Keeldar seized her arm and hurried her down the fields.


Nothing was so wilful as Shirley when she took a whim into her head.


Caroline found herself out of sight of the crowd almost before she was aware, and ushered into a narrow shady spot, embowered above with hawthorns, and enamelled under foot with daisies.

Caroline found herself ushered into a narrow shady spot, embowered above with hawthorns, and enamelled underfoot with daisies.


She took no notice of the evening sun chequering the turf, nor was she sensible of the pure incense exhaling at this hour from tree and plant; she only heard the wicket opening at one end, and knew Robert was approaching.

She heard the wicket-gate opening, and knew Robert was approaching.


The long sprays of the hawthorns, shooting out before them, served as a screen.

The long sprays of the hawthorns screened them.


At a glance Caroline perceived that his social hilarity was gone; he had left it behind him in the joy-echoing fields round the school.

At a glance Caroline perceived that his social gaiety was gone; he


What remained now was his dark, quiet, business countenance.


As Shirley had said, a certain hardness characterized his air, while his eye was excited, but austere.

As Shirley had said, there was a certain hardness in his air.


So much the worse timed was the present freak of Shirley's.


If he had looked disposed for holiday mirth, it would not have mattered much; but now----


"I told you not to come," said Caroline, somewhat bitterly, to her friend.


To be intruded on Robert thus, against her will and his expectation, and when he evidently would rather not be delayed, keenly annoyed her.

To intrude on Robert thus, when he evidently would rather not be delayed, keenly annoyed her.


It did not annoy Miss Keeldar in the least.


She stepped forward and faced her tenant, barring his way.


"You omitted to bid us good-bye," she said.


I left two like you, one in purple and one in white, standing at the top of a bank, four fields off, but a minute ago."

I left two like you standing at the top of a bank, four fields off, only a minute ago."


We have been watching you, and shall watch you still.


You must be questioned one day, but not now.


At present all you have to do is to say good-night, and then pass."


Moore glanced from one to the other without unbending his aspect.


"Days of fte have their privileges, and so have days of hazard," observed he gravely.


Say good-night, and pass," urged Shirley.


"Must I say good-night to you, Miss Keeldar?"


You have bid us both good-night before."


He took her hand, held it in one of his, and covered it with the other.


He looked down at her gravely, kindly, yet commandingly.


The heiress could not make this man her subject.


In his gaze on her bright face there was no servility, hardly homage; but there were interest and affection, heightened by another feeling.

In his gaze there was no servility; but there were interest and affection


Something in his tone when he spoke, as well as in his words, marked that last sentiment to be gratitude.


May you rest safely and serenely till morning."


"And you, Mr. Moore--what are you going to do?

"And you, Mr. Moore - what are you going to do?


What have you been saying to Mr. Helstone, with whom I saw you shake hands?

What were you saying to Mr. Helstone, with whom I saw you shake hands?


Why did all those gentlemen gather round you?


To-morrow, if there is anything to relate, you shall hear it."

Tomorrow, if there is anything to relate, you shall hear it.


"Just now," pleaded Shirley; "don't procrastinate."


And my time is limited; I have not a moment to spare.


Hereafter I will make amends for delay by candour."


He would have taken Caroline's hand and joined it in the same clasp in which he held Shirley's, but somehow it was not ready for him.

He would have taken Caroline's hand and clasped it as he had Shirley's, but somehow her hand was not ready for him.


Her answer to Moore's adieu was only a slight bend of the head and a gentle, serious smile.

, and gave him only a slight bend of the head and a gentle, serious smile.


Again he said "Farewell," and quitted them both.

Again he said "Farewell," and left them both.


it is over," said Shirley when he was gone.


"We have made him bid us good-night, and yet not lost ground in his esteem, I think, Cary."

"We have not lost ground in his esteem, I think, Cary."


"I consider you very timid and undemonstrative," remarked Miss Keeldar.


"Why did you not give Moore your hand when he offered you his?


Are you ashamed to let him perceive your affection?"


"He perceives all of it that interests him.


"You are laconic; you would be stoical if you could.


Is love, in your eyes, a crime, Caroline?"


But why drag that word into the conversation?


The two girls paced the green lane in silence.


"Obtrusiveness is a crime, forwardness is a crime, and both disgust; but love!


And when I see or hear either man or woman couple shame with love, I know their minds are coarse, their associations debased.

When I hear anyone couple shame with love, I know their minds are coarse and debased.


Many who think themselves refined ladies and gentlemen, and on whose lips the word 'vulgarity' is for ever hovering, cannot mention 'love' without betraying their own innate and imbecile degradation.

Many who think themselves refined ladies and gentlemen cannot mention 'love' without betraying their own innate degradation.


It is a low feeling in their estimation, connected only with low ideas for them."

It is connected only with low ideas for them."


"You describe three-fourths of the world, Caroline."


"They are cold--they are cowardly--they are stupid on the subject, Shirley!

"They are cold - they are stupid, Shirley!


They never loved--they never were loved!"

They never loved - they never were loved!"


And in their dense ignorance they blaspheme living fire, seraph-brought from a divine altar."


"They confound it with sparks mounting from Tophet."


The sudden and joyous clash of bells here stopped the dialogue by summoning all to the church.

The sudden joyous clash of bells here stopped the dialogue by summoning all to the church.


Briarmains being nearer than the Hollow, Mr. Yorke had conveyed his young comrade there.

His own house, Briarmains, being nearer than the Hollow, Mr. Yorke had conveyed Robert Moore there.


He had seen him laid in the best bed of the house, as carefully as if he had been one of his own sons.

He had seen him laid in the best bed, as carefully as if he had been one of his own sons.


The sight of his blood, welling from the treacherously inflicted wound, made him indeed the son of the Yorkshire gentleman's heart.


The spectacle of the sudden event, of the tall, straight shape prostrated in its pride across the road, of the fine southern head laid low in the dust, of that youth in prime flung at once before him pallid, lifeless, helpless--this was the very combination of circumstances to win for the victim Mr. Yorke's liveliest interest.

Moore's welling blood, the spectacle of the fine head suddenly laid low in the dust, made him indeed the son of the Yorkshire gentleman's heart.


No other hand was there to raise--to aid, no other voice to question kindly, no other brain to concert measures; he had to do it all himself.

There was nobody else to help him; he had to do it all himself.


This utter dependence of the speechless, bleeding youth (as a youth he regarded him) on his benevolence secured that benevolence most effectually.

This utter dependence of the speechless, bleeding young man brought out his benevolence.


Well did Mr. Yorke like to have power, and to use it.


He had now between his hands power over a fellow-creature's life.

he now had power over a fellow-creature's life.


No less perfectly did it suit his saturnine better half.


The incident was quite in her way and to her taste.


Some women would have been terror-struck to see a gory man brought in over their threshold, and laid down in their hall in the "howe of the night."

Some women would have been terror-struck to see a gory man brought in over their threshold.


There, you would suppose, was subject-matter for hysterics.

You would have supposed it a cause for hysterics.


Mrs. Yorke went into hysterics when Jessie would not leave the garden to come to her knitting, or when Martin proposed starting for Australia, with a view to realize freedom and escape the tyranny of Matthew; but an attempted murder near her door--a half-murdered man in her best bed--set her straight, cheered her spirits, gave her cap the dash of a turban.

Mrs. Yorke went into hysterics when Jessie would not leave the garden to come to her knitting; but an attempted murder nearby - a half-murdered man in her best bed - cheered her spirits.


Mrs. Yorke was just the woman who, while rendering miserable the drudging life of a simple maid-servant, would nurse like a heroine a hospital full of plague patients.

Mrs. Yorke was a woman who, while making her maid-servant miserable, would nurse a hospital full of plague patients like a heroine.


Her tough heart almost yearned towards him when she found him committed to her charge--left in her arms, as dependent on her as her youngest-born in the cradle.


Had she seen a domestic or one of her daughters give him a draught of water or smooth his pillow, she would have boxed the intruder's ears.


She chased Jessie and Rose from the upper realm of the house; she forbade the housemaids to set their foot in it.

She chased Jessie and Rose from his room, and forbade the housemaids to enter it.


Now, if the accident had happened at the rectory gates, and old Helstone had taken in the martyr, neither Yorke nor his wife would have pitied him.


They would have adjudged him right served for his tyranny and meddling.


As it was, he became, for the present, the apple of their eye.


Louis Moore was permitted to come--to sit down on the edge of the bed and lean over the pillow; to hold his brother's hand, and press his pale forehead with his fraternal lips; and Mrs. Yorke bore it well.

Louis Moore was permitted to sit on the edge of the bed and hold his brother's hand; and Mrs. Yorke bore it well.


She suffered him to stay half the day there; she once suffered him to sit up all night in the chamber; she rose herself at five o'clock of a wet November morning, and with her own hands lit the kitchen fire, and made the brothers a breakfast, and served it to them herself.

She allowed him to stay half the day there; she once allowed him to sit up all night in the chamber; she herself rose at five o'clock of a wet November morning, and with her own hands lit the kitchen fire, and made the brothers' breakfast, and served it to them.


Majestically arrayed in a boundless flannel wrapper, a shawl, and her nightcap, she sat and watched them eat, as complacently as a hen beholds her chickens feed.

Majestically arrayed in a boundless flannel wrapper, a shawl and nightcap, she sat and watched them eat, as complacently as a hen beholds her chickens feed.


Yet she gave the cook warning that day for venturing to make and carry up to Mr. Moore a basin of sago-gruel; and the housemaid lost her favour because, when Mr. Louis was departing, she brought him his surtout aired from the kitchen, and, like a "forward piece" as she was, helped him on with it, and accepted in return a smile, a "Thank you, my girl," and a shilling.

Yet she would not let the cook or the housemaid so much as carry up a basin of gruel.


Two ladies called one day, pale and anxious, and begged earnestly, humbly, to be allowed to see Mr. Moore one instant.


Mrs. Yorke hardened her heart, and sent them packing--not without opprobrium.

Mrs. Yorke hardened her heart, and sent them packing.


But how was it when Hortense Moore came?


The whole family of the Moores really seemed to suit Mrs. Yorke so as no other family had ever suited her.


Hortense and she possessed an exhaustless mutual theme of conversation in the corrupt propensities of servants.

Hortense and Mrs. Yorke possessed an exhaustless mutual theme of conversation, in the corrupt tendencies of servants.


Their views of this class were similar; they watched them with the same suspicion, and judged them with the same severity.

Their views of this class were similar; they were both suspicious and severe.


Hortense, too, from the very first showed no manner of jealousy of Mrs. Yorke's attentions to Robert--she let her keep the post of nurse with little interference; and, for herself, found ceaseless occupation in fidgeting about the house, holding the kitchen under surveillance, reporting what passed there, and, in short, making herself generally useful.

Hortense, too, showed no jealousy of Mrs. Yorke's attentions to Robert; she did not interfere, but fidgeted about the house and kitchen, making herself generally useful.


Visitors they both of them agreed in excluding sedulously from the sickroom.

They both agreed in excluding visitors from the sickroom


They held the young mill-owner captive, and hardly let the air breathe or the sun shine on him.

, and held the young mill-owner captive.


Mr. MacTurk, the surgeon to whom Moore's case had been committed, pronounced his wound of a dangerous, but, he trusted, not of a hopeless character.

Mr. MacTurk, the surgeon, pronounced his wound to be dangerous, but not hopeless.


At first he wished to place with him a nurse of his own selection; but this neither Mrs. Yorke nor Hortense would hear of.


They promised faithful observance of directions.


He was left, therefore, for the present in their hands.

faithfully, so Moore was left in their hands.


Doubtless they executed the trust to the best of their ability; but something got wrong.

Doubtless they nursed him to the best of their ability; but something went wrong.


The bandages were displaced or tampered with; great loss of blood followed.

The bandages were displaced; great loss of blood followed.


MacTurk, being summoned, came with steed afoam.


He was one of those surgeons whom it is dangerous to vex--abrupt in his best moods, in his worst savage.

He was one of those surgeons whom it is dangerous to vex - abrupt in his best moods, in his worst savage.


On seeing Moore's state he relieved his feelings by a little flowery language, with which it is not necessary to strew the present page.


A bouquet or two of the choicest blossoms fell on the unperturbed head of one Mr. Graves, a stony young assistant he usually carried about with him; with a second nosegay he gifted another young gentleman in his train--an interesting fac-simile of himself, being indeed his own son; but the full _corbeille_ of blushing bloom fell to the lot of meddling womankind, _en masse_.


For the best part of one winter night himself and satellites were busied about Moore.

For the best part of one winter night he and two male assistants were busied about Moore.


There at his bedside, shut up alone with him in his chamber, they wrought and wrangled over his exhausted frame.

Shut up alone with him in his chamber, they wrangled with Death over his exhausted frame.


They three were on one side of the bed, and Death on the other.


The conflict was sharp; it lasted till day broke, when the balance between the belligerents seemed so equal that both parties might have claimed the victory.

The conflict was sharp; it lasted till dawn.


At dawn Graves and young MacTurk were left in charge of the patient, while the senior went himself in search of additional strength, and secured it in the person of Mrs. Horsfall, the best nurse on his staff.

Then the two assistants were left with the patient, while the senior went himself in search of additional strength, in the person of Mrs. Horsfall, the best nurse on his staff.


To this woman he gave Moore in charge, with the sternest injunctions respecting the responsibility laid on her shoulders.


She took this responsibility stolidly, as she did also the easy-chair at the bedhead.

She took the responsibility stolidly, as she did also the easy-chair by the bed.


Mrs. Horsfall had one virtue--orders received from MacTurk she obeyed to the letter.

Mrs. Horsfall had one virtue - she obeyed MacTurk's orders to the letter.


The ten commandments were less binding in her eyes than her surgeon's dictum.


In other respects she was no woman, but a dragon.


Hortense Moore fell effaced before her; Mrs. Yorke withdrew--crushed; yet both these women were personages of some dignity in their own estimation, and of some bulk in the estimation of others.

Hortense Moore fell before her; Mrs. Yorke withdrew, crushed; yet both these women were personages of some dignity.


Perfectly cowed by the breadth, the height, the bone, and the brawn of Mrs. Horsfall, they retreated to the back parlour.

Cowed by the breadth, the height, and the brawn of Mrs. Horsfall, they retreated to the back parlour.


She, for her part, sat upstairs when she liked, and downstairs when she preferred it.


She took her dram three times a day, and her pipe of tobacco four times.

She took her dram of gin three times a day, and her pipe of tobacco.


As to Moore, no one now ventured to inquire about him.


It was she who was to do for him, and the general conjecture now ran that she did for him accordingly.


Morning and evening MacTurk came to see him.

Morning and evening MacTurk came to see Moore.


His case, thus complicated by a new mischance, was become one of interest in the surgeon's eyes.

His case became interesting in the surgeon's eyes.


He regarded him as a damaged piece of clockwork, which it would be creditable to his skill to set agoing again.

MacTurk regarded him as a damaged piece of clockwork, which it would be a credit to his skill to set going again.


Graves and young MacTurk--Moore's sole other visitors--contemplated him in the light in which they were wont to contemplate the occupant for the time being of the dissecting-room at Stilbro' Infirmary.


Robert Moore had a pleasant time of it--in pain, in danger, too weak to move, almost too weak to speak, a sort of giantess his keeper, the three surgeons his sole society.

Robert Moore had a pleasant time of it - in pain, in danger, too weak to move, almost too weak to speak, a sort of giantess as his keeper, the three surgeons his sole society.


Thus he lay through the diminishing days and lengthening nights of the whole drear month of November.

Thus he lay through the whole drear month of November.


In the commencement of his captivity Moore used feebly to resist Mrs. Horsfall.

At first Moore used feebly to resist Mrs. Horsfall.


He hated the sight of her rough bulk, and dreaded the contact of her hard hands; but she taught him docility in a trice.

He hated the sight of her rough bulk, and dreaded the contact of her hard hands; but she taught him docility.


She made no account whatever of his six feet, his manly thews and sinews; she turned him in his bed as another woman would have turned a babe in its cradle.

She turned him in his bed as another woman would have turned a babe in its cradle.


When he was good she addressed him as "my dear" and "honey," and when he was bad she sometimes shook him.

When he was good she addressed him as "my dear", and when he was bad she sometimes shook him.


Did he attempt to speak when MacTurk was there, she lifted her hand and bade him "Hush!"

If he tried to speak when MacTurk was there, she lifted her hand and bade him "Hush!"


If she had not smoked, if she had not taken gin, it would have been better, he thought; but she did both.

If she had not smoked and taken gin, it would have been better, he thought;


Once, in her absence, he intimated to MacTurk that "that woman was a dram-drinker."

and once, in her absence, he hinted to MacTurk that "that woman was a dram-drinker."


my dear sir, they are all so," was the reply he got for his pains.

my dear sir, they are all so," was the reply.


"But Horsfall has this virtue," added the surgeon--"drunk or sober, she always remembers to obey _me_."

"But drunk or sober, she always remembers to obey me."


At length the latter autumn passed; its fogs, its rains withdrew from England their mourning and their tears; its winds swept on to sigh over lands far away.


Behind November came deep winter--clearness, stillness, frost accompanying.

Behind November came deep winter - clearness, stillness, frost.


A calm day had settled into a crystalline evening.


The world wore a North Pole colouring; all its lights and tints looked like the _reflets_[A] of white, or violet, or pale green gems.


The hills wore a lilac blue; the setting sun had purple in its red; the sky was ice, all silvered azure; when the stars rose, they were of white crystal, not gold; gray, or cerulean, or faint emerald hues--cool, pure, and transparent--tinged the mass of the landscape.

the hills were lilac blue; the sky was ice; when the stars rose, they were of white crystal; faint emerald hues tinged the landscape.


[A] Find me an English word as good, reader, and I will gladly dispense with the French word.


What is this by itself in a wood no longer green, no longer even russet, a wood neutral tint--this dark blue moving object?

What is this, moving in a wood no longer green, no longer even russet, this dark blue object?


Why, it is a schoolboy--a Briarfield grammar-school boy--who has left his companions, now trudging home by the highroad, and is seeking a certain tree, with a certain mossy mound at its root, convenient as a seat.

Why, it is a schoolboy who is trudging home alone, and seeking a certain tree where he can sit.


The air is cold and the time wears late.

The air is cold and the time grows late.


Does he feel the chaste charm Nature wears to-night?


A pearl-white moon smiles through the gray trees; does he care for her smile?


Impossible to say; for he is silent, and his countenance does not speak.

Impossible to say; for he is silent, and his face shows nothing.


As yet it is no mirror to reflect sensation, but rather a mask to conceal it.


This boy is a stripling of fifteen--slight, and tall of his years.

This boy is a stripling of fifteen - slight, and tall for his years.


In his face there is as little of amenity as of servility, his eye seems prepared to note any incipient attempt to control or overreach him, and the rest of his features indicate faculties alert for resistance.

His eye seems prepared to note any attempt to control him; he looks as if he is alert for resistance.


Wise ushers avoid unnecessary interference with that lad.

Wise teachers avoid unnecessary interference with that lad.


To break him in by severity would be a useless attempt; to win him by flattery would be an effort worse than useless.


Time will educate and experience train him.


Professedly Martin Yorke (it is a young Yorke, of course) tramples on the name of poetry.

Martin Yorke (for it is a young Yorke) tramples on the name of poetry.


Talk sentiment to him, and you would be answered by sarcasm.


Here he is, wandering alone, waiting duteously on Nature, while she unfolds a page of stern, of silent, and of solemn poetry beneath his attentive gaze.

Yet here he is, wandering alone, waiting on Nature, while she unfolds a page of stern and solemn poetry beneath his attentive gaze.


Being seated, he takes from his satchel a book--not the Latin grammar, but a contraband volume of fairy tales.

Being seated, he takes from his satchel a book - a volume of fairy tales.


There will be light enough yet for an hour to serve his keen young vision.

There will be light enough to read by for an hour.


Besides, the moon waits on him; her beam, dim and vague as yet, fills the glade where he sits.


He is led into a solitary mountain region; all round him is rude and desolate, shapeless, and almost colourless.


Forth-riding from the formless folds of the mist dawns on him the brightest vision--a green-robed lady, on a snow-white palfrey.

From the formless folds of the mist there rides a bright vision - a green-robed lady, on a snow-white palfrey.


He sees her dress, her gems, and her steed.


She arrests him with some mysterious question.


He is spell-bound, and must follow her into fairyland.


A second legend bears him to the sea-shore.


There tumbles in a strong tide, boiling at the base of dizzy cliffs.


A reef of rocks, black and rough, stretches far into the sea.


All along, and among, and above these crags dash and flash, sweep and leap, swells, wreaths, drifts of snowy spray.


Some lone wanderer is out on these rocks, treading with cautious step the wet, wild seaweed; glancing down into hollows where the brine lies fathoms deep and emerald clear, and seeing there wilder and stranger and huger vegetation than is found on land, with treasure of shells--some green, some purple, some pearly--clustered in the curls of the snaky plants.

Some lone wanderer is out on these rocks, treading cautiously.


Looking up and forward, he sees, at the bleak point of the reef, a tall, pale thing--shaped like man, but made of spray--transparent, tremulous, awful.

Looking up he sees, at the point of the reef, a tall, pale thing - human-shaped but made of spray - transparent, tremulous, awful.


They are all human figures that wanton in the rocks--a crowd of foam-women--a band of white, evanescent Nereids.


Once more the dead leaves, lightly crushed, rustle on the wood path.

The dead leaves rustle on the wood path.


Martin watches; the trees part, and a woman issues forth.

Martin watches; the trees part, and a woman emerges.


She is a lady dressed in dark silk, a veil covering her face.

She is dressed in dark silk, a veil covering her face.


Martin never met a lady in this wood before--nor any female, save, now and then, a village girl come to gather nuts.

Martin never met a lady in this wood before.


To-night the apparition does not displease him.


He observes, as she approaches, that she is neither old nor plain, but, on the contrary, very youthful; and, but that he now recognizes her for one whom he has often wilfully pronounced ugly, he would deem that he discovered traits of beauty behind the thin gauze of that veil.

He observes that she is young; and, if not for the fact that he now recognizes her as one whom he has often pronounced ugly, he would think her beautiful behind the thin gauze of that veil.


All women are proud monkeys, and he knows no more conceited doll than that Caroline Helstone.


The thought is hardly hatched in his mind when the lady retraces those two steps she had got beyond him, and raising her veil, reposes her glance on his face, while she softly asks, "Are you one of Mr. Yorke's sons?"

The thought is hardly hatched in his mind when the lady retraces her steps to him, raises her veil, and softly asks, "Are you one of Mr. Yorke's sons?"


No human evidence would ever have been able to persuade Martin Yorke that he blushed when thus addressed; yet blush he did, to the ears.

No evidence would ever have persuaded Martin Yorke that he blushed when thus addressed; yet blush he did, to the ears.


"I am," he said bluntly, and encouraged himself to wonder, superciliously, what would come next.


It was a simple sentence--very artlessly, a little timidly, pronounced; but it chimed in harmony to the youth's nature.

It was a simple sentence, a little timid; but


Martin had a keen sense of his personality; he felt it right and sensible that the girl should discriminate him from his brothers.

Martin had a keen sense of his personality; he felt it right that the girl should know him from his brothers.


It was acceptable to hear a lady address him as "Martin," and not Mr. Martin or Master Martin, which form would have lost her his good graces for ever.

It was acceptable to hear a lady address him as "Martin," and not Mr. Martin or Master Martin, which would have lost her his good graces for ever.


Worse, if possible, than ceremony was the other extreme of slipshod familiarity.


The slight tone of bashfulness, the scarcely perceptible hesitation, was considered perfectly in place.

The slight tone of bashfulness was considered perfectly in place.


(it was lucky she did not say _papa_ and _mamma_; that would have undone all); "and Rose and Jessie?"

(it was lucky she did not say papa and mamma; that would have undone all); "and Rose and Jessie?"


"My cousin Hortense is still at Briarmains?"


Martin gave a comic half-smile and demi-groan.

Martin gave a comic half-smile and groan, which the lady responded to.


The half-smile was responded to by the lady, who could guess in what sort of odour Hortense was likely to be held by the young Yorkes.

She could guess what the young Yorkes thought of Hortense.


"They suit so well about the servants they can't help liking each other."

"They agree so well about the servants that they can't help liking each other."


Now, indeed, Martin allowed himself a refreshing laugh of scorn.


"Lost your way in the mighty forest of Briarmains!"


"I never was here before, and I believe I am trespassing now.


You might inform against me if you chose, Martin, and have me fined.


But since you are so simple as to lose your way, I will guide you out."


Martin" (a little quickly), "how is Mr. Moore?"

Martin," (a little quickly), "how is Mr. Moore?"


Martin had heard certain rumours; it struck him that it might be amusing to make an experiment.


She looked into his eyes, and said, "To die!"

, looked into his eyes, and said, "To die!"


All along of the women, my mother and the rest.


They did something about his bandages that finished everything.


I am sure they should be arrested, cribbed, tried, and brought in for Botany Bay, at the very least."

I am sure they should be arrested, tried, and brought in for Botany Bay, at the very least."


The questioner, perhaps, did nor hear this judgment.

The questioner, perhaps, did not hear this judgment.


In two minutes, without another word, she moved forwards; no good-night, no further inquiry.


This was not amusing, nor what Martin had calculated on.


He expected something dramatic and demonstrative.


It was hardly worth while to frighten the girl if she would not entertain him in return.


"Come; are you uneasy about what I said?"


"You know nothing about death, Martin; you are too young for me to talk to concerning such a thing."

"You know nothing about death, Martin; you are too young for me to talk to about it."


They are always making sago or tapioca or something good for him.

They are always making something tasty for him


I never go into the kitchen but there is a saucepan on the fire, cooking him some dainty.


I think I will play the old soldier, and be fed on the fat of the land like him."


Here her voice trembled, and she stopped.


"It is exceedingly wrong of you, Martin.


She leaned against a tree, trembling, shuddering, and as pale as death.

and leaned against a tree, shuddering, and as pale as death.


Martin contemplated her with inexpressible curiosity.


In one sense it was, as he would have expressed it, "nuts" to him to see this.


It told him so much, and he was beginning to have a great relish for discovering secrets.

intensely interesting; he was beginning to have a relish for discovering secrets.


In another sense it reminded him of what he had once felt when he had heard a blackbird lamenting for her nestlings, which Matthew had crushed with a stone, and that was not a pleasant feeling.

In another sense, it reminded him of what he had once felt when he had heard a blackbird lamenting for her nestlings, which Matthew had crushed with a stone, and that was not a pleasant feeling.


Unable to find anything very appropriate to _say_ in order to comfort her, he began to cast about in his mind what he could _do_.

He began to cast about in his mind what he could do.


The lad's smile gave wondrous transparency to his physiognomy.


Not reflecting that it would be more difficult for Miss Helstone than for himself to climb a wall or penetrate a hedge, he piloted her by a short cut which led to no gate.

Not reflecting that it would be difficult for Miss Helstone to climb a wall or penetrate a hedge, he led her out by a short cut, which meant helping her over some formidable obstacles.


The consequence was he had to help her over some formidable obstacles, and while he railed at her for helplessness, he perfectly liked to feel himself of use.

While he railed at her for helplessness, he liked to feel himself of use.


"Martin, before we separate, assure me seriously, and on your word of honour, that Mr. Moore is better."

"Martin, before we separate, assure me seriously, on your word of honour, that Mr. Moore is better."


"How very much you think of that Moore!"


"No--but--many of his friends may ask me, and I wish to be able to give an authentic answer."


"You may tell them he is well enough, only idle.


You may tell them that he takes mutton chops for dinner, and the best of arrowroot for supper.

You may tell them that he takes mutton chops for dinner, and the best arrowroot for supper."


I intercepted a basin myself one night on its way upstairs, and ate half of it."


Why, a woman as round and big as our largest water-butt--a rough, hard-favoured old girl.

"Why, a woman as round and big as our water-butt - a rough old girl.


I make no doubt she leads him a rich life.


It is my belief she knocks him about terribly in that chamber.

It is my belief she knocks him about terribly in that room.


I listen at the wall sometimes when I am in bed, and I think I hear her thumping him.

I listen at the wall sometimes, and I think I hear her thumping him.


She could hold half a dozen hands like yours in her one palm.


After all, notwithstanding the chops and jellies he gets, I would not be in his shoes.


In fact, it is my private opinion that she eats most of what goes up on the tray to Mr. Moore."


Profound silence and meditation on Caroline's part, and a sly watchfulness on Martin's.


I don't care to see him, for my own part."


"Did not you come to our house once with Mrs. Pryor, about five weeks since, to ask after him?"

Did not you come to our house with Mrs. Pryor, about five weeks ago, to ask after him?"


"I dare say you wished to be shown upstairs?"


We entreated it; but your mother declined."


She treated you as it is her pleasure to treat visitors now and then.


"She was not kind; for you know, Martin, we are relations, and it is natural we should take an interest in Mr. Moore.


But here we must part; we are at your father's gate."


"They will miss you, and wonder where you are."


Martin knew that he had already incurred the penalty of a lecture, and dry bread for his tea.


No matter; the evening had furnished him with an adventure.

No matter; the evening had provided him with an adventure.


On the way he promised to see Mr. Moore, in spite of the dragon who guarded his chamber, and appointed an hour on the next day when Caroline was to come to Briarmains Wood and get tidings of him.

, he promised to see Mr. Moore, in spite of the dragon who guarded his chamber, and fixed an hour on the next day when Caroline was to come to Briarmains Wood for news.


The scheme led to nothing; still he liked it.


Having reached home, the dry bread and the lecture were duly administered to him, and he was dismissed to bed at an early hour.

Having reached home, the dry bread and the lecture were duly administered to him, and he was sent to bed early.


He accepted his punishment with the toughest stoicism.


Ere ascending to his chamber he paid a secret visit to the dining-room, a still, cold, stately apartment, seldom used, for the family customarily dined in the back parlour.

Before going to his chamber he paid a secret visit to the dining-room: a still, cold apartment, seldom used.


He stood before the mantelpiece, and lifted his candle to two pictures hung above--female heads: one, a type of serene beauty, happy and innocent; the other, more lovely, but forlorn and desperate.

He stood before the mantelpiece, and lifted his candle to two pictures hung above - two female heads: one, a type of serene beauty, happy and innocent; the other, more lovely, but forlorn and desperate.


"She looked like _that_," he said, gazing on the latter sketch, "when she sobbed, turned white, and leaned against the tree."

"She looked like that," he said, gazing on the latter sketch, "when she turned white, and leaned against the tree."


"I suppose," he pursued, when he was in his room, and seated on the edge of his pallet-bed--"I suppose she is what they call '_in love_'--yes, _in love_ with that long thing in the next chamber.

"I suppose," he pursued, when he was sitting on his bed - "I suppose she is what they call 'in love' with that long thing in the next room.


It really sounds as if she had fallen on him tooth and nail; but I suppose she is making the bed.


She hit into the mattresses as if she was boxing.


It is queer, Zillah (they call her Zillah)--Zillah Horsfall is a woman, and Caroline Helstone is a woman; they are two individuals of the same species--not much alike though.

It is queer. Zillah Horsfall is a woman, and Caroline Helstone is a woman; they are not much alike though.


I suspect she is; very nice to look at--something so clear in her face, so soft in her eyes.

I suspect she is. Very nice to look at - something so clear in her face, so soft in her eyes.


I approve of her looking at me; it does me good.


Their shadow seems to rest where she gazes, and to instil peace and thought.


If she behaves well, and continues to suit me as she has suited me to-day, I may do her a good turn.

If she behaves well, and continues to suit me, I may do her a good turn.


I rather relish the notion of circumventing my mother and that ogress old Horsfall.

I rather like the idea of dodging my mother and old Horsfall.


Not that I like humouring Moore; but whatever I do I'll be paid for, and in coin of my own choosing.


I know what reward I will claim--one displeasing to Moore, and agreeable to myself."

And I know what reward I will claim - one displeasing to Moore, and agreeable to myself."


Miss Keeldar and her uncle had characters that would not harmonize, that never had harmonized.

Miss Keeldar and her uncle had characters that would not harmonize.


He was worldly, and she, perhaps, romantic.


Not without purpose had he come down to Yorkshire.

He had come down to Yorkshire with a purpose.


His mission was clear, and he intended to discharge it conscientiously.


He anxiously desired to have his niece married, to make for her a suitable match, give her in charge to a proper husband, and wash his hands of her for ever.

He anxiously desired to have his niece married, to match her with a suitable husband, and wash his hands of her for ever.


The misfortune was, from infancy upwards, Shirley and he had disagreed on the meaning of the words "suitable" and "proper."

Unfortunately, Shirley and he had always disagreed on the meaning of the word "suitable."


She never yet had accepted his definition; and it was doubtful whether, in the most important step of her life, she would consent to accept it.

She had never yet accepted his definition; and it was doubtful whether she would now.


Mr. Wynne proposed in form for his son, Samuel Fawthrop Wynne.

Mr. Wynne proposed on behalf of his son, Samuel Wynne.


"A fine unencumbered estate, real substance, good connections.

"A fine estate, real substance, good connections.


He sent for his niece to the oak parlour; he shut himself up there with her alone; he communicated the offer; he gave his opinion; he claimed her consent.

He sent for his niece to the oak parlour; he communicated the offer; he gave his opinion; he claimed her consent.


"No; I shall not marry Samuel Fawthrop Wynne."


In all respects he is more than worthy of you."


She was pale as the white marble slab and cornice behind her; her eyes flashed large, dilated, unsmiling.

, pale as the white marble slab behind her; her eyes flashed large, unsmiling.


"And _I_ ask in what sense that young man is worthy of _me_?"

"May I ask in what sense that young man is worthy of me?"


"He has twice your money, twice your common sense, equal connections, equal respectability."

"He has twice your money, twice your common sense, and equal respectability."


"Had he my money counted fivescore times I would take no vow to love him."

"Had he a hundred times my money I would take no vow to love him."


"He has run a course of despicable, commonplace profligacy.


Accept that as the first reason why I spurn him."


"That conduct alone sinks him in a gulf of immeasurable inferiority.


His intellect reaches no standard I can esteem: there is a second stumbling-block.

I cannot esteem his intellect: there is a second stumbling-block.


His views are narrow, his feelings are blunt, his tastes are coarse, his manners vulgar."


To refuse him is presumption on your part."


Cease to annoy me with the subject; I forbid it!"


"Is it your intention ever to marry; or do you prefer celibacy?"


"I deny your right to claim an answer to that question."


"May I ask if you expect some man of title--some peer of the realm--to demand your hand?"

"May I ask if you expect some peer of the realm to demand your hand?"


"I doubt if the peer breathes on whom I would confer it."

"I doubt if the peer breathes to whom I would give it."


"Were there insanity in the family, I should believe you mad.


Your eccentricity and conceit touch the verge of frenzy."


"Perhaps, ere I have finished, you will see me over-leap it."


I dare you to sully our name by a _msalliance_!"

I dare you to sully our name by a msalliance!"


But be on your guard; I will not be trifled with!"


"What, in the name of common law and common sense, would you or could you do if my pleasure led me to a choice you disapproved?"


warning her with voice and hand that trembled alike.


What shadow of power have _you_ over me?


"Take care, madam!" His voice and hand trembled alike.


"Scrupulous care I will take, Mr. Sympson.


Before I marry I am resolved to esteem--to admire--to _love_."

Before I marry I am resolved to esteem - to admire - to love."


I know I speak in an unknown tongue; but I feel indifferent whether I am comprehended or not."

I know I speak in an unknown tongue; but I feel indifferent whether you understand or not."


"And if this love of yours should fall on a beggar?"


"On a low clerk, a play-actor, a play-writer, or--or----"

"On a low clerk, a play-actor, a play-writer, or - or


"Any literary scrub, or shabby, whining artist."


"For the scrubby, shabby, whining I have no taste; for literature and the arts I have.

"For the shabby and whining I have no taste; for literature and the arts I have.


And there I wonder how your Fawthrop Wynne would suit me.


He cannot write a note without orthographical errors; he reads only a sporting paper; he was the booby of Stilbro' grammar school!"

cannot write a note without errors; he reads only a sporting paper; he was the booby of Stilbro' grammar school!"


"Never to the altar of Hymen with Sam Wynne."


"Why are not the laws more stringent, that I might compel her to hear reason?"


Were Britain a serfdom and you the Czar, you could not _compel_ me to this step.

Were you the Czar, you could not compel me to this step.


Give yourself no further trouble on the subject."


Fortune is proverbially called changeful, yet her caprice often takes the form of repeating again and again a similar stroke of luck in the same quarter.

However, Mr. Wynne was not the only suitor.


It appeared that Miss Keeldar--or her fortune--had by this time made a sensation in the district, and produced an impression in quarters by her unthought of.

Miss Keeldar - or her fortune - had by this time made a sensation in the district.


No less than three offers followed Mr. Wynne's, all more or less eligible.


All were in succession pressed on her by her uncle, and all in succession she refused.

All were in turn pressed on her by her uncle, and all were refused.


Yet amongst them was more than one gentleman of unexceptionable character as well as ample wealth.

Yet amongst them was more than one gentleman of respectable character as well as wealth.


Many besides her uncle asked what she meant, and whom she expected to entrap, that she was so insolently fastidious.

Many besides her uncle asked whom she expected to entrap, so make her so insolently fastidious.


At last the gossips thought they had found the key to her conduct, and her uncle was sure of it; and what is more, the discovery showed his niece to him in quite a new light, and he changed his whole deportment to her accordingly.

At last the gossips thought they had found the key to her conduct, and her uncle was sure of it. The discovery altered his whole behaviour to his niece.


Fieldhead had of late been fast growing too hot to hold them both.


The suave aunt could not reconcile them; the daughters froze at the view of their quarrels.

The aunt could not reconcile them; the daughters froze at their quarrels


Gertrude and Isabella whispered by the hour together in their dressing-room, and became chilled with decorous dread if they chanced to be left alone with their audacious cousin.

, and became chilled with decorous dread if they chanced to be alone with their audacious cousin.


But, as I have said, a change supervened.


Mr. Sympson was appeased and his family tranquillized.


The village of Nunnely has been alluded to--its old church, its forest, its monastic ruins.


It had also its hall, called the priory--an older, a larger, a more lordly abode than any Briarfield or Whinbury owned; and what is more, it had its man of title--its baronet, which neither Briarfield nor Whinbury could boast.

had a hall, called the priory - an older, more lordly house than any in Briarfield or Whinbury; and what is more, it had a baronet, which neither Briarfield nor Whinbury could boast.


This possession--its proudest and most prized--had for years been nominal only.


The present baronet, a young man hitherto resident in a distant province, was unknown on his Yorkshire estate.

The present baronet, a young man who had hitherto lived in a distant province, was unknown on his Yorkshire estate.


During Miss Keeldar's stay at the fashionable watering-place of Cliffbridge, she and her friends had met with and been introduced to Sir Philip Nunnely.

During Miss Keeldar's stay at the fashionable watering-place of Cliffbridge, she and her friends had been introduced to Sir Philip Nunnely.


They encountered him again and again on the sands, the cliffs, in the various walks, sometimes at the public balls of the place.

They met him again on the sands, the cliffs, on walks, and sometimes at public balls.


His manner was very unpretending--too simple to be termed affable; rather timid than proud.


He did not _condescend_ to their society; he seemed _glad_ of it.


With any unaffected individual Shirley could easily and quickly cement an acquaintance.

With any unaffected person Shirley could easily make friends.


She walked and talked with Sir Philip; she, her aunt, and cousins sometimes took a sail in his yacht.

She walked and talked with Sir Philip; she and her aunt and cousins sometimes took a sail in his yacht.


She liked him because she found him kind and modest, and was charmed to feel she had the power to amuse him.

She liked him because she found him kind and modest, and was charmed that she had the power to amuse him.


One slight drawback there was--where is the friendship without it?--Sir Philip had a literary turn.

One slight drawback there was: Sir Philip had a literary turn.


He wrote poetry--sonnets, stanzas, ballads.


Perhaps Miss Keeldar thought him a little too fond of reading and reciting these compositions; perhaps she wished the rhyme had possessed more accuracy, the measure more music, the tropes more freshness, the inspiration more fire.

Perhaps Miss Keeldar thought him a little too fond of reciting these works; perhaps she wished them a little better written, a little more original.


At any rate, she always winced when he recurred to the subject of his poems, and usually did her best to divert the conversation into another channel.

At any rate, she always winced when he referred to his poems, and tried to divert the conversation into another channel.


He would beguile her to take moonlight walks with him on the bridge, for the sole purpose, as it seemed, of pouring into her ear the longest of his ballads.

He would beguile her to take moonlight walks with him for the sole purpose, it seemed, of pouring into her ear his longest ballads.


He would lead her away to sequestered rustic seats, whence the rush of the surf to the sands was heard soft and soothing; and when he had her all to himself, and the sea lay before them, and the scented shade of gardens spread round, and the tall shelter of cliffs rose behind them, he would pull out his last batch of sonnets, and read them in a voice tremulous with emotion.

He would lead her away to lonely spots by the sea, and in the scented shade of gardens, with tall cliffs rising behind them, he would pull out his latest batch of sonnets, and read them in a voice tremulous with emotion.


He did not seem to know that though they might be rhyme they were not poetry.

He did not seem to know that though they might be rhyme, they were not poetry.


It appeared, by Shirley's downcast eye and disturbed face, that she knew it, and felt heartily mortified by the single foible of this good and amiable gentleman.

It appeared, by Shirley's face, that she knew it, and felt heartily mortified by the single foible of this good and amiable gentleman.


Often she tried, as gently as might be, to wean him from this fanatic worship of the Muses.

Often she tried gently to wean him from his fanatical worship of the Muses.


It was his monomania; on all ordinary subjects he was sensible enough, and fain was she to engage him in ordinary topics.

On all ordinary subjects he was sensible enough.


He questioned her sometimes about his place at Nunnely; she was but too happy to answer his interrogatories at length.

He questioned her sometimes about his place at Nunnely; she was happy to


She never wearied of describing the antique priory, the wild silvan park, the hoary church and hamlet; nor did she fail to counsel him to come down and gather his tenantry about him in his ancestral halls.

describe the area, and advised him to visit his ancestral halls.


Somewhat to her surprise, Sir Philip followed her advice to the letter, and actually, towards the close of September, arrived at the priory.

Somewhat to her surprise, Sir Philip followed her advice, and in late September, arrived at the priory.


He soon made a call at Fieldhead, and his first visit was not his last.

He soon called at Fieldhead, and his first visit was not his last.


He said--when he had achieved the round of the neighbourhood--that under no roof had he found such pleasant shelter as beneath the massive oak beams of the gray manor-house of Briarfield; a cramped, modest dwelling enough compared with his own, but he liked it.

He said that under no roof had he found such pleasant shelter as beneath Fieldhead's massive oak beams; a cramped, modest dwelling compared with his own, but he liked it.


Presently it did not suffice to sit with Shirley in her panelled parlour, where others came and went, and where he could rarely find a quiet moment to show her the latest production of his fertile muse; he must have her out amongst the pleasant pastures, and lead her by the still waters.

Presently it was not enough to sit with Shirley in her panelled parlour;


_Tte--tte_ ramblings she shunned, so he made parties for her to his own grounds, his glorious forest; to remoter scenes--woods severed by the Wharfe, vales watered by the Aire.

he made parties for her to his own grounds, his glorious forest; and to remoter scenes by the rivers Wharfe and Aire.


Such assiduity covered Miss Keeldar with distinction.


Her uncle's prophetic soul anticipated a splendid future.


He already scented the time afar off when, with nonchalant air, and left foot nursed on his right knee, he should be able to make dashingly-familiar allusion to his "nephew the baronet."

time when he should be able to allude nonchalantly to his "nephew the baronet."


Now his niece dawned upon him no longer "a mad girl," but a "most sensible woman."

Now his niece appeared to him no longer "a mad girl," but a "most sensible woman


He termed her, in confidential dialogues with Mrs. Sympson, "a truly superior person; peculiar, but very clever."


He treated her with exceeding deference; rose reverently to open and shut doors for her; reddened his face and gave himself headaches with stooping to pick up gloves, handkerchiefs, and other loose property, whereof Shirley usually held but insecure tenure.


He would cut mysterious jokes about the superiority of woman's wit over man's wisdom; commence obscure apologies for the blundering mistake he had committed respecting the generalship, the tactics, of "a personage not a hundred miles from Fieldhead."

he made mysterious jokes about the superiority of woman's wit over man's wisdom; and remarked on the generalship, the tactics, of "a person not a hundred miles from Fieldhead."


In short, he seemed elate as any "midden-cock on pattens."


His niece viewed his manuvres and received his innuendoes with phlegm; apparently she did not above half comprehend to what aim they tended.

His niece received his innuendoes with composure, apparently not understanding them.


When plainly charged with being the preferred of the baronet, she said she believed he did like her, and for her part she liked him.

When charged with being preferred by the baronet, she said she believed he did like her, and for her part she liked him.


She had never thought a man of rank--the only son of a proud, fond mother, the only brother of doting sisters--could have so much goodness, and, on the whole, so much sense.

She had never thought a man of rank could have so much goodness, and, on the whole, so much sense.


Time proved, indeed, that Sir Philip liked her.


Perhaps he had found in her that "curious charm" noticed by Mr. Hall.


He sought her presence more and more, and at last with a frequency that attested it had become to him an indispensable stimulus.


About this time strange feelings hovered round Fieldhead; restless hopes and haggard anxieties haunted some of its rooms.

About this time strange feelings hovered round Fieldhead; restless hopes and haggard anxieties haunted its rooms.


There was an unquiet wandering of some of the inmates among the still fields round the mansion; there was a sense of expectancy that kept the nerves strained.

There was a sense of expectancy that kept the nerves strained.


One thing seemed clear: Sir Philip was not a man to be despised.


He was amiable; if not highly intellectual, he was intelligent.

If not highly intellectual, he was intelligent.


Miss Keeldar could not affirm of him, what she had so bitterly affirmed of Sam Wynne, that his feelings were blunt, his tastes coarse, and his manners vulgar.


There was sensibility in his nature; there was a very real, if not a very discriminating, love of the arts; there was the English gentleman in all his deportment.


As to his lineage and wealth, both were, of course, far beyond her claims.

As to his lineage and wealth, both were, of course, far beyond Shirley's.


His appearance had at first elicited some laughing though not ill-natured remarks from the merry Shirley.


His features were plain and slight, his hair sandy, his stature insignificant.

His features were plain and slight, his stature insignificant.


But she soon checked her sarcasm on this point; she would even fire up if any one else made uncomplimentary allusion thereto.

But Shirley soon checked her merriment on this point; she would even fire up if anyone was uncomplimentary about him.


He had "a pleasing countenance," she affirmed; "and there was that in his heart which was better than three Roman noses, than the locks of Absalom or the proportions of Saul."

He had "a pleasing countenance," she affirmed; "and a good heart."


A spare and rare shaft she still reserved for his unfortunate poetic propensity; but even here she would tolerate no irony save her own.

She still reserved a rare shaft of sarcasm for his unfortunate poetry; but even here she would tolerate no irony except her own.


In short, matters had reached a point which seemed fully to warrant an observation made about this time by Mr. Yorke to the tutor, Louis.

In short, matters had reached a point which seemed fully to warrant an observation made by Mr. Yorke to the tutor, Louis.


"Yond' brother Robert of yours seems to me to be either a fool or a madman.

"That brother Robert of yours seems to me to be either a fool or a madman.


Two months ago I could have sworn he had the game all in his own hands; and there he runs the country, and quarters himself up in London for weeks together, and by the time he comes back he'll find himself checkmated.

Two months ago I could have sworn he had the game all in his own hands; and then he leaves the area and stays in London for weeks together, and by the time he comes back he'll find himself checkmated.


Louis, 'there is a tide in the affairs of men, which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune, but, once let slip, never returns again.'


I'd write to Robert, if I were you, and remind him of that."

I'd write to Robert, if I were you, and tell him not to let his chances slip."


inquired Louis, as if the idea was new to him.


"Views I suggested to him myself, and views he might have realized, for she liked him."

"Views I suggested to him myself, for she liked him."


I have seen her change countenance and colour at the mere mention of his name.

I have seen her change colour at the mere mention of his name.


Write to the lad, I say, and tell him to come home.


He is a finer gentleman than this bit of a baronet, after all."

He is a finer gentleman than this bit of a baronet."


"Does it not strike you, Mr. Yorke, that for a mere penniless adventurer to aspire to a rich woman's hand is presumptuous--contemptible?"

"Does it not strike you, Mr. Yorke, that for a penniless adventurer to aspire to a rich woman's hand is presumptuous - contemptible?"


"Oh, if you are for high notions and double-refined sentiment, I've naught to say.

"Oh, if you are for high notions, I've naught to say.


I'm a plain, practical man myself, and if Robert is willing to give up that royal prize to a lad-rival--a puling slip of aristocracy--I am quite agreeable.

I'm a plain, practical man myself, and if Robert is willing to give up that royal prize to a puling slip of aristocracy, I am quite agreeable.


At _his_ age, in _his_ place, with _his_ inducements, I would have acted differently.

In his place I would have acted differently.


Neither baronet, nor duke, nor prince should have snatched my sweetheart from me without a struggle.


But you tutors are such solemn chaps; it is almost like speaking to a parson to consult with you."

But you tutors are such solemn chaps; it is almost like speaking to a parson."


Flattered and fawned upon as Shirley was just now, it appeared she was not absolutely spoiled--that her better nature did not quite leave her.


Universal report had indeed ceased to couple her name with that of Moore, and this silence seemed sanctioned by her own apparent oblivion of the absentee; but that she had not _quite_ forgotten him--that she still regarded him, if not with love, yet with interest--seemed proved by the increased attention which at this juncture of affairs a sudden attack of illness induced her to show that tutor-brother of Robert's, to whom she habitually bore herself with strange alternations of cool reserve and docile respect--now sweeping past him in all the dignity of the moneyed heiress and prospective Lady Nunnely, and anon accosting him as abashed school-girls are wont to accost their stern professors; bridling her neck of ivory and curling her lip of carmine, if he encountered her glance, one minute, and the next submitting to the grave rebuke of his eye with as much contrition as if he had the power to inflict penalties in case of contumacy.

Rumour had indeed ceased to couple Shirley's name with that of Moore; but it appeared that she had not forgotten him. That seemed proved by the attention which a sudden attack of illness led her to show Robert's tutor-brother, to whom she habitually behaved with strange alternations of cool reserve and docile respect - now sweeping past him in all the dignity of the moneyed heiress, and then accosting him as abashed school-girls accost their stern professors.


Louis Moore had perhaps caught the fever, which for a few days laid him low, in one of the poor cottages of the district, which he, his lame pupil, and Mr. Hall were in the habit of visiting together.

Louis Moore had perhaps caught the fever in one of the poor cottages of the district, which he and Mr. Hall had visited together.


At any rate he sickened, and after opposing to the malady a taciturn resistance for a day or two, was obliged to keep his chamber.

At any rate he sickened, and was obliged to keep to his chamber.


He lay tossing on his thorny bed one evening, Henry, who would not quit him, watching faithfully beside him, when a tap--too light to be that of Mrs. Gill or the housemaid--summoned young Sympson to the door.

He lay tossing on his bed one evening, with Henry by him, when there was a light tap on the door.


asked a low voice from the dark gallery.


"Come in and see him yourself," said Henry.


But the speaker stepped in, and Henry, seeing her hesitate on the threshold, took her hand and drew her to the couch.

But she stepped in, and Henry led her to the couch.


The shaded light showed Miss Keeldar's form but imperfectly; yet it revealed her in elegant attire.

The shaded light showed Miss Keeldar elegantly dressed.


There was a party assembled below, including Sir Philip Nunnely; the ladies were now in the drawing-room, and their hostess had stolen from them to visit Henry's tutor.


Her pure white dress, her fair arms and neck, the trembling chainlet of gold circling her throat and quivering on her breast, glistened strangely amid the obscurity of the sickroom.

Her white dress glistened strangely amid the obscurity of the sickroom.


"I have not been very ill, and am now better."


I have brought you some grapes; can you taste one?"


"No; but I thank you for remembering me."


From the rich cluster that filled a small basket held in her hand she severed a berry and offered it to his lips.


He shook his head, and turned aside his flushed face.


"But what, then, can I bring you instead?


You have no wish for fruit; yet I see that your lips are parched.


"Mrs. Gill supplies me with toast-and-water."


This is autumn, a season fertile in fevers."


"I hear you often visit the sick in Briarfield, and Nunnely too, with Mr. Hall.

I hear you often visit the sick with Mr. Hall.


You should be on your guard; temerity is not wise."


"That reminds me, Miss Keeldar, that perhaps you had better not enter this chamber or come near this couch.

"That reminds me, Miss Keeldar, that perhaps you had better not enter this chamber or come near this bed.


I do not believe my illness is infectious.


I scarcely fear"--with a sort of smile--"_you_ will take it; but why should you run even the shadow of a risk?


"Patience, I will go soon; but I should like to do something for you before I depart--any little service----"

"I will go soon; but I should like to do something for you before I depart - any little service-"


Sir Philip Nunnely is no wine-bibber, and I hear him just now pass from the dining-room to the drawing-room."

Sir Philip Nunnely is no wine-drinker, and I hear him walking to the drawing-room."


"It is never dull, and the sense seems sharpened at present.


I heard you sing to him some song which he had brought you.


I heard him, when he took his departure at eleven o'clock, call you out on to the pavement, to look at the evening star."

When he left, I heard him call you outside, to look at the evening star.


"No: my chamber is over the hall, the window just above the front door; the sash was a little raised, for I felt feverish.

"No: my chamber is just above the front door; the window was open.


You stood ten minutes with him on the steps.


I heard your discourse, every word, and I heard the salute.--Henry, give me some water."

I heard your discourse, every word. Henry, give me some water."


But he half rose to take the glass from young Sympson, and declined her attendance.


"Nothing; for you cannot guarantee me a night's peaceful rest, and it is all I at present want."

"Nothing; for you cannot guarantee me a night's peaceful rest, and it is all I want.


"I am often sleepless when in high health."


"If I had power, I would lap you in the most placid slumber--quite deep and hushed, without a dream."

"If I could, I would give you the most placid slumber - quite deep and dreamless."


"With dreams of all you most desire," she added.


The sleep would be delirium, the waking death."


"Your wishes are not so chimerical; you are no visionary."


"Miss Keeldar, I suppose you think so; but my character is not, perhaps, quite as legible to you as a page of the last new novel might be."

"Miss Keeldar, my character is not, perhaps, quite as legible to you as you think."


But this sleep--I _should_ like to woo it to your pillow, to win for you its favour.


If I took a book and sat down and read some pages?


I am too feverish and excitable to bear a soft, cooing, vibrating voice close at my ear.

I am too feverish and excitable to bear a soft voice close at my ear.


"Henry, my boy, go to bed now; it is time you had some repose."


"Sir, it would please me to watch at your bedside all night."


Possibly Miss Keeldar resented her former teacher's rejection of her courtesy.


It is certain she did not repeat the offer of it.


Often as her light step traversed the gallery in the course of a day, it did not again pause at his door; nor did her "cooing, vibrating voice" disturb a second time the hush of the sickroom.


A sickroom, indeed, it soon ceased to be; Mr. Moore's good constitution quickly triumphed over his indisposition.

A sickroom, indeed, it soon ceased to be.


In a few days he shook it off, and resumed his duties as tutor.

In a few days Mr. Moore shook off his illness, and resumed his duties as tutor.


That "auld lang syne" had still its authority both with preceptor and scholar was proved by the manner in which he sometimes promptly passed the distance she usually maintained between them, and put down her high reserve with a firm, quiet hand.

He still had his old teacher's authority over Shirley, as proved by the manner in which he sometimes put down her high reserve with a firm, quiet hand.


One afternoon the Sympson family were gone out to take a carriage airing.


Shirley, never sorry to snatch a reprieve from their society, had remained behind, detained by business, as she said.


The business--a little letter-writing--was soon dispatched after the yard gates had closed on the carriage; Miss Keeldar betook herself to the garden.

The business - a little letter-writing - was soon done; and Miss Keeldar betook herself to the garden.


The gilding of the Indian summer mellowed the pastures far and wide.


The russet woods stood ripe to be stripped, but were yet full of leaf.

; the russet woods were still full of leaf.


The purple of heath-bloom, faded but not withered, tinged the hills.

The purple heath-bloom, faded but not withered, tinged the hills.


The beck wandered down to the Hollow, through a silent district; no wind followed its course or haunted its woody borders.


Fieldhead gardens bore the seal of gentle decay.

Fieldhead's gardens bore the seal of gentle decay.


On the walks, swept that morning, yellow leaves had fluttered down again.

Yellow leaves had fluttered down on to the walks


Its time of flowers, and even of fruits, was over; but a scantling of apples enriched the trees.

; a few apples still enriched the trees.


Only a blossom here and there expanded pale and delicate amidst a knot of faded leaves.

A blossom here and there expanded pale and delicate amidst a knot of faded leaves.


These single flowers--the last of their race--Shirley culled as she wandered thoughtfully amongst the beds.

These single flowers - the last of their race - Shirley culled as she wandered thoughtfully amongst the beds.


She was fastening into her girdle a hueless and scentless nosegay, when Henry Sympson called to her as he came limping from the house.


"Shirley, Mr. Moore would be glad to see you in the schoolroom and to hear you read a little French, if you have no more urgent occupation."


The messenger delivered his commission very simply, as if it were a mere matter of course.


And now, do come, and let us once more be as we were at Sympson Grove.

Do come, and let us once more be as we were at Sympson Grove.


We used to have pleasant school-hours in those days."


Miss Keeldar perhaps thought that circumstances were changed since then; however, she made no remark, but after a little reflection quietly followed Henry.

Miss Keeldar perhaps thought that circumstances were changed since then; however, she made no remark, but quietly followed Henry.


Entering the schoolroom, she inclined her head with a decent obeisance, as had been her wont in former times.

Entering the schoolroom, she inclined her head, as in former times


She removed her bonnet, and hung it up beside Henry's cap.

, and hung her bonnet beside Henry's cap.


Louis Moore sat at his desk, turning the leaves of a book, open before him, and marking passages with his pencil.

Louis Moore sat at his desk, turning the leaves of a book and marking passages with his pencil.


He just moved, in acknowledgment of her curtsy, but did not rise.


"You proposed to read to me a few nights ago," said he.


A little renewed practice in French may not be unprofitable.

A little renewed practice in French may profit you.


Your accent, I have observed, begins to rust."


"Here are the posthumous works of St. Pierre.


Read a few pages of the 'Fragments de l'Amazone.'"


She accepted the chair which he had placed in readiness near his own; the volume lay on his desk--there was but one between them; her sweeping curls dropped so low as to hide the page from him.

She accepted the chair which he had placed near his own; the volume lay on his desk between them, but her sweeping curls dropped and hid the page from him.


For one moment Shirley looked not quite certain whether she would obey the request or disregard it.

For one moment Shirley looked not quite certain whether she would obey.


A flicker of her eye beamed furtive on the professor's face.


Perhaps if he had been looking at her harshly or timidly, or if one undecided line had marked his countenance, she would have rebelled, and the lesson had ended there and then; but he was only awaiting her compliance--as calm as marble, and as cool.

Perhaps if he had been looking at her harshly or undecidedly she would have rebelled, and the lesson have ended; but he was as calm and cool as marble.


She threw the veil of tresses behind her ear.

She threw the veil of hair behind her ear


It was well her face owned an agreeable outline, and that her cheek possessed the polish and the roundness of early youth, or, thus robbed of a softening shade, the contours might have lost their grace.


But what mattered that in the present society?


Neither Calypso nor Eucharis cared to fascinate Mentor.


The language had become strange to her tongue; it faltered; the lecture flowed unevenly, impeded by hurried breath, broken by Anglicized tones.


Read me a paragraph, if you please, Mr. Moore."


"Trs bien," was the approving comment at the close of the piece.


"C'est presque le Franais rattrap, n'est-ce pas?"


"You could not write French as you once could, I dare say?"


I should make strange work of my concords now."


"You could not compose the _devoir_ of 'La Premire Femme Savante'?"

"You could not compose the essay 'La Premire Femme Savante'?"


"I will engage to repeat it word for word."

"I will engage to repeat it word for word," said he.


"You would stop short at the first line."


He gave it in French, but we must translate, on pain of being unintelligible to some readers.

He gave it in French, but we must translate, and also shorten it a little.


"And it came to pass, when men began to multiply on the face of the earth, and daughters were born unto them, that the sons of God saw the daughters of men that they were fair; and they took them wives of all which they chose."

And it came to pass, when men began to multiply on the face of the earth, and daughters were born unto them, that the sons of God saw the daughters of men, that they were fair; and they took them wives of them.


This was in the dawn of time, before the morning stars were set, and while they yet sang together.


The epoch is so remote, the mists and dewy gray of matin twilight veil it with so vague an obscurity, that all distinct feature of custom, all clear line of locality, evade perception and baffle research.

an epoch so remote, so veiled in obscurity that it evades perception and baffles research.


It must suffice to know that the world then existed; that men peopled it; that man's nature, with its passions, sympathies, pains, and pleasures, informed the planet and gave it soul.


A certain tribe colonized a certain spot on the globe; of what race this tribe--unknown; in what region that spot--untold.


We usually think of the East when we refer to transactions of that date; but who shall declare that there was no life in the West, the South, the North?


What is to disprove that this tribe, instead of camping under palm groves in Asia, wandered beneath island oak woods rooted in our own seas of Europe?


It is no sandy plain, nor any circumscribed and scant oasis I seem to realize.


A forest valley, with rocky sides and brown profundity of shade, formed by tree crowding on tree, descends deep before me.

, but a forest valley, with rocky sides and deep shade, formed by tree crowding on tree.


Here, indeed, dwell human beings, but so few, and in alleys so thick branched and overarched, they are neither heard nor seen.

Here dwell human beings, but so few, and so hidden that they are neither heard nor seen.


They live by the crook and the bow; half shepherds, half hunters, their flocks wander wild as their prey.

They live by the crook and the bow; half shepherds, half hunters.


No, not more happy than we are at this day.


There is one in this tribe too often miserable--a child bereaved of both parents.

There is one in this tribe too often miserable - an orphaned child.


She is fed sometimes, but oftener forgotten.


A hut rarely receives her; the hollow tree and chill cavern are her home.

The hollow tree and chill cavern are her home.


Forsaken, lost, and wandering, she lives more with the wild beast and bird than with her own kind.

Forsaken and wandering, she lives more with the wild beast and bird than with her own kind.


Hunger and cold are her comrades; sadness hovers over, and solitude besets her round.

Hunger and cold are her comrades, and solitude besets her.


Unheeded and unvalued, she should die; but she both lives and grows.


The green wilderness nurses her, and becomes to her a mother; feeds her on juicy berry, on saccharine root and nut.


There is something in the air of this clime which fosters life kindly.


There must be something, too, in its dews which heals with sovereign balm.


Its gentle seasons exaggerate no passion, no sense; its temperature tends to harmony; its breezes, you would say, bring down from heaven the germ of pure thought and purer feeling.


Not grotesquely fantastic are the forms of cliff and foliage, not violently vivid the colouring of flower and bird.


In all the grandeur of these forests there is repose; in all their freshness there is tenderness.


The gentle charm vouchsafed to flower and tree, bestowed on deer and dove, has not been denied to the human nursling.

The gentle charm vouchsafed to flower and tree, bestowed on deer and dove, nurtures the human child.


All solitary, she has sprung up straight and graceful.


Nature cast her features in a fine mould; they have matured in their pure, accurate first lines, unaltered by the shocks of disease.

Nature cast her features finely, in pure lines.


No fierce dry blast has dealt rudely with the surface of her frame; no burning sun has crisped or withered her tresses.


Her form gleams ivory-white through the trees; her hair flows plenteous, long, and glossy; her eyes, not dazzled by vertical fires, beam in the shade large and open, and full and dewy.

Her form gleams ivory-white through the trees; her hair flows long, and glossy; her eyes are full and dewy.


Above those eyes, when the breeze bares her forehead, shines an expanse fair and ample--a clear, candid page, whereon knowledge, should knowledge ever come, might write a golden record.

Her forehead is a clear, candid page, whereon knowledge might write a golden record.


You see in the desolate young savage nothing vicious or vacant.


She haunts the wood harmless and thoughtful, though of what one so untaught can think it is not easy to divine.

She haunts the wood harmless and thoughtful, though of what one so untaught can think it is not easy to guess.


On the evening of one summer day, before the Flood, being utterly alone--for she had lost all trace of her tribe, who had wandered leagues away, she knew not where--she went up from the vale, to watch Day take leave and Night arrive.

On the evening of one summer day, before the Flood, being utterly alone, she went up from the vale to watch Day take leave and Night arrive.


A crag overspread by a tree was her station.


The oak roots, turfed and mossed, gave a seat; the oak boughs, thick-leaved, wove a canopy.


Slow and grand the Day withdrew, passing in purple fire, and parting to the farewell of a wild, low chorus from the woodlands.

Slow and grand the Day withdrew, passing in purple fire.


The wind fell, the birds ceased singing.


Now every nest held happy mates, and hart and hind slumbered blissfully safe in their lair.


The girl sat, her body still, her soul astir; occupied, however, rather in feeling than in thinking, in wishing than hoping, in imagining than projecting.


She felt the world, the sky, the night, boundlessly mighty.

she felt the world, the sky, the night, boundlessly mighty.


Of all things herself seemed to herself the centre--a small, forgotten atom of life, a spark of soul, emitted inadvertent from the great creative source, and now burning unmarked to waste in the heart of a black hollow.

Of all things herself seemed the centre - a small, forgotten atom of life, a spark of soul, burning unmarked to waste in the heart of a black hollow.


She asked, was she thus to burn out and perish, her living light doing no good, never seen, never needed--a star in an else starless firmament, which nor shepherd, nor wanderer, nor sage, nor priest tracked as a guide or read as a prophecy?

She asked, was she thus to burn out and perish, her living light doing no good, never seen, never needed?


Could this be, she demanded, when the flame of her intelligence burned so vivid; when her life beat so true, and real, and potent; when something within her stirred disquieted, and restlessly asserted a God-given strength, for which it insisted she should find exercise?

How could this be, she demanded, when her life beat so true, and real, and potent; when something within her stirred and restlessly asserted a God-given strength?


She bent down, searching bank, hill, river, spread dim below.


All she questioned responded by oracles.


She heard--she was impressed; but she could not understand.


Above her head she raised her hands joined together.


There was no voice, nor any that answered.


She waited, kneeling, steadfastly looking up.


Yonder sky was sealed; the solemn stars shone alien and remote.


At last one overstretched chord of her agony slacked; she thought Something above relented; she felt as if Something far round drew nigher; she heard as if Silence spoke.

At last she thought Something above relented; she felt as if Something far round drew nigher; she heard as if Silence spoke.


There was no language, no word, only a tone.


Again--a fine, full, lofty tone, a deep, soft sound, like a storm whispering, made twilight undulate.

A deep, soft sound, like a storm whispering, made twilight undulate.


Once more, profounder, nearer, clearer, it rolled harmonious.


Yet again--a distinct voice passed between Heaven and Earth.

A voice passed between Heaven and Earth.


If Eva were not this woman's name, she had none.


"O Night (it can be but Night that speaks), I am here!"


"Lord," she cried, "behold thine handmaid!"


She had her religion--all tribes held some creed.


The Evening flushed full of hope; the Air panted; the Moon--rising before--ascended large, but her light showed no shape.

The Evening flushed full of hope; the Moon ascended large, but her light showed no shape.


"Eva, I have brought a living draught from heaven.


"I drink: it is as if sweetest dew visited my lips in a full current.

"I drink: it is as if sweetest dew visited my lips.


My arid heart revives; my affliction is lightened; my strait and struggle are gone.

My arid heart revives; my affliction is lightened.


the wood, the hill, the moon, the wide sky--all change!"

the wood, the hill, the moon, the wide sky - all change!"


I take from thy vision darkness; I loosen from thy faculties fetters!

I take from thy vision darkness; I loosen thy fetters!


I level in thy path obstacles; I with my presence fill vacancy.


I take to myself the spark of soul--burning heretofore forgotten!"

I take to myself the spark of soul until now forgotten!"


"This is a son of God--one who feels himself in the portion of life that stirs you.

"This is a son of God - one who feels himself in the life that stirs you.


He is suffered to reclaim his own, and so to foster and aid that it shall not perish hopeless."

He is suffered to reclaim his own and to aid it."


I saw thee that thou wert fair; I knew thee that thou wert mine.


To me it is given to rescue, to sustain, to cherish mine own.


Acknowledge in me that Seraph on earth named Genius."


The dark hint, the obscure whisper, which have haunted me from childhood, are interpreted.


Did I not give from the altar the very flame which lit Eva's being?


"Come again into the heaven whence thou wert sent."


That Presence, invisible but mighty, gathered her in like a lamb to the fold; that voice, soft but all-pervading, vibrated through her heart like music.


Her eye received no image; and yet a sense visited her vision and her brain as of the serenity of stainless air, the power of sovereign seas, the majesty of marching stars, the energy of colliding elements, the rooted endurance of hills wide based, and, above all, as of the lustre of heroic beauty rushing victorious on the Night, vanquishing its shadows like a diviner sun.

Her eye received no image; and yet she saw a vision of the majesty of marching stars, the energy of colliding elements, the rooted endurance of hills; the lustre of heroic beauty rushing victorious on the Night, vanquishing its shadows.


Such was the bridal hour of Genius and Humanity.


Who shall rehearse the tale of their after-union?


Who shall tell how He between whom and the Woman God put enmity forged deadly plots to break the bond or defile its purity?


Who shall record the long strife between Serpent and Seraph:--How still the Father of Lies insinuated evil into good, pride into wisdom, grossness into glory, pain into bliss, poison into passion?

Who shall record the long strife between Serpent and Seraph: how the Father of Lies insinuated evil into good, pride into wisdom, poison into passion?


How the "dreadless Angel" defied, resisted, and repelled?

How the "dreadless Angel" defied him, and


How again and again he refined the polluted cup, exalted the debased emotion, rectified the perverted impulse, detected the lurking venom, baffled the frontless temptation--purified, justified, watched, and withstood?

refined the polluted cup, exalted the debased emotion - purified, justified, watched, and withstood?


How, by his patience, by his strength, by that unutterable excellence he held from God--his Origin--this faithful Seraph fought for Humanity a good fight through time; and, when Time's course closed, and Death was encountered at the end, barring with fleshless arm the portals of Eternity, how Genius still held close his dying bride, sustained her through the agony of the passage, bore her triumphant into his own home, Heaven; restored her, redeemed, to Jehovah, her Maker; and at last, before Angel and Archangel, crowned her with the crown of Immortality?

How, by his patience, by his strength, this faithful Seraph fought for Humanity a good fight through time; and, when Time's course closed, and Death was encountered at the end, how Genius still held close his dying bride, sustained her through the agony of the passage, bore her triumphant into his own home, Heaven; restored her to Jehovah, her Maker; and at last crowned her with the crown of Immortality?


Who shall of these things write the chronicle?


"I never could correct that composition," observed Shirley, as Moore concluded.


"Your censor-pencil scored it with condemnatory lines, whose signification I strove vainly to fathom."

"Your censor-pencil scored it with condemnatory lines, which I could not understand."


She had taken a crayon from the tutor's desk, and was drawing little leaves, fragments of pillars, broken crosses, on the margin of the book.

She had taken a crayon from the tutor's desk, and was drawing little leaves on the margin of the book.


"French may be half forgotten, but the habits of the French lesson are retained, I see," said Louis.

"French may be half forgotten, but the habits of your French lesson are retained, I see," said Louis.


"My books would now, as erst, be unsafe with you.


My newly-bound St. Pierre would soon be like my Racine--Miss Keeldar, her mark, traced on every page."


Shirley dropped her crayon as if it burned her fingers.


"Tell me what were the faults of that _devoir_?"

"Tell me, what were the faults of that essay?"


"Were they grammatical errors, or did you object to the substance?"


"I never said that the lines I drew were indications of faults at all.


You would have it that such was the case, and I refrained from contradiction."


"Mr. Moore," cried Henry, "make Shirley repeat some of the pieces she used to say so well by heart."


"If I ask for any, it will be 'Le Cheval Dompt,'" said Moore, trimming with his penknife the pencil Miss Keeldar had worn to a stump.

"If I ask for any, it will be 'Le Cheval Dompt,'" said Moore.


She turned aside her head; the neck, the clear cheek, forsaken by their natural veil, were seen to flush warm.

She turned aside her head; the neck and cheek flushed warm.


she has not forgotten, you see, sir," said Henry, exultant.


A smile, which Shirley would not permit to expand, made her lip tremble; she bent her face, and hid it half with her arms, half in her curls, which, as she stooped, fell loose again.

A smile made Shirley's lip tremble; she bent her face, and hid it half in her curls, which fell loose again.


"Certainly I was a rebel," she answered.


"Yes; you and papa had quarrelled terribly, and you set both him and mamma, and Mrs. Pryor, and everybody, at defiance.

"Yes; you and papa had quarrelled terribly, and you defied both him and mamma.


"He _had_ insulted me," interposed Shirley.

"He had insulted me," interposed Shirley.


"And you wanted to leave Sympson Grove directly.


You packed your things up, and papa threw them out of your trunk; mamma cried, Mrs. Pryor cried; they both stood wringing their hands begging you to be patient; and you knelt on the floor with your things and your up-turned box before you, looking, Shirley, looking--why, in one of _your_ passions.

You packed your things, and papa threw them out of your trunk; mamma and Mrs. Pryor cried, and begged you to be patient; and you knelt on the floor with your things in one of your passions.


Your features, in such passions, are not distorted; they are fixed, but quite beautiful.

Your features, in such passions, are quite beautiful.


You scarcely look angry, only resolute, and in a certain haste; yet one feels that at such times an obstacle cast across your path would be split as with lightning.

You scarcely look angry, only resolute, and in haste; yet one feels that at such times an obstacle cast across your path would be split with lightning.