And for such purposes as his, I think it fair that all the family should contribute.


I feel sure that he would make a name for himself in Parliament; and if I had my way I would spend every shilling of Vavasor money in putting him there.


When I told the squire so I thought he would have eaten me.


I really did think he would have turned me out of the house."


"And serve you right too after what had happened."


I was determined he should know what I thought.


He swore at me; and then he was so unhappy at what he had done that he came and kissed me that night in my bedroom, and gave me a ten-pound note.

He swore at me; and then he was so unhappy at swearing that he came and kissed me and gave me a ten-pound note.


I sent it as a contribution to the next election and George has it now locked up in a box.

I sent it to George as a contribution to the next election.


Then they stopped and leaned for a while over the parapet of the bridge.

They stopped and leaned over the parapet of the bridge.


"Come here, George," said Kate; and she made room for him between herself and Alice.

"Come here, George," said Kate, making room for him between herself and Alice.


"Wouldn't you like to be swimming down there as those boys were doing when we went out into the balcony?

"Wouldn't you like to be swimming down there?


"I can't say I should;--unless it might be a pleasant way of swimming into the next world."

"I can't say I should; unless it might be a pleasant way of swimming into the next world."


"I should so like to feel myself going with the stream," said Kate; "particularly by this light.

"I should so like to feel myself going with the stream," said Kate.


I can't fancy in the least that I should be drowned."

"I can't imagine that I should be drowned."


"I can't fancy anything else," said Alice.

"I can't imagine anything else," said Alice.


"It would be so pleasant to feel the water gliding along one's limbs, and to be carried away headlong,--knowing that you were on the direct road to Rotterdam."

"It would be so pleasant to be carried away headlong to Rotterdam."


"And so arrive there without your clothes," said George.

"And arrive there without your clothes," said George.


Didn't you see that those boys had a boat with them?


But if I lived here, I'd never do it except by moonlight.


The water looks so clear and bright now, and the rushing sound of it is so soft!

The water looks so clear and bright in the moonlight, and the sound of it is so soft!


The sea at Yarmouth won't be anything like that I suppose."

The sea at Yarmouth won't be anything like that, I suppose."


Neither of them any longer answered her, and yet she went on talking about the river, and their aunt, and her prospects at Yarmouth.

She went on talking about the river, and their aunt, and Yarmouth.


Neither of them answered her, and yet it seemed that they had not a word to say to each other.


But still they stood there looking down upon the river, and every now and then Kate's voice was to be heard, preventing the feeling which might otherwise have arisen that their hearts were too full for speech.

Still they stood looking down upon the river, and every now and then Kate's voice was heard, preventing the feeling which might otherwise have arisen that their hearts were too full for speech.


There was a slight trembling in her arms, which George felt rather than saw.


I thought you shivered with the night air."


Don't you ever think of things that make you shiver?"


"Indeed I do, very often;--so often that I have to do my shiverings inwardly.

"Indeed I do - so often that I have to do my shiverings inwardly."


Otherwise people would think I had the palsy."


"I don't mean things of moment," said Alice.

"I don't mean important things," said Alice.


"Little bits of things make me do it;--perhaps a word that I said and ought not to have said ten years ago;--the most ordinary little mistakes, even my own past thoughts to myself about the merest trifles.

"Little bits of things make me do it; perhaps a word that I ought not to have said ten years ago. The most ordinary little mistakes


"It's not because you have committed any murder then."


"No; but it's my conscience all the same, I suppose."


When I think of a chance I've let go by, as I have thousands, then it is that I shiver.

When I think of a chance I've let go by, as I have thousands, then I shiver - but inwardly.


I've been in one long shiver ever since we came out because of one chance that I let go by.


We've to be up at five o'clock, and now it's eleven.

We have to be up at five o'clock, and now it's eleven.


I'll do the rest of my shivering in bed."


said Kate, when the other two began to move.


"Not tired of being out, but George reminds me that we have to be up at five."


We can't come to the bridge at Basle every night in our lives.


If one found oneself at the top of Sinai I'm afraid the first feeling would be one of fear lest one wouldn't be down in time to dress for dinner.


Are you aware, George, that the king of rivers is running beneath your feet, and that the moon is shining with a brilliance you never see at home?"


"I'll stay here all night if you'll put off going to-morrow," said George.


"Our money wouldn't hold out," said Kate.


"Don't talk about Sinai any more after that," said he, "but let's go in to bed."


They walked across the bridge back to the hotel in the same manner as before, the two girls going together with the young man after them, and so they went up the front steps of the hotel, through the hall, and on to the stairs.


Here George handed Alice her candle, and as he did so he whispered a few words to her.

On the stairs George handed Alice her candle, and as he did so he whispered a few words to her.


"My shivering fit has to come yet," said he, "and will last me the whole night."


She would have given much to be able to answer him lightly, as though what he had said had meant nothing;--but she couldn't do it; the light speech would not come to her.

She would have given much to be able to answer him lightly, as though he had meant nothing; but she couldn't.


She was conscious of all this, and went away to her own room without answering him at all.

She went to her own room without answering him at all.


Here she sat down at the window looking out upon the river till Kate should join her.


Their rooms opened through from one to the other, and she would not begin her packing till her cousin should come.

Their rooms adjoined, and she would not begin her packing till her cousin came.


But Kate had gone with her brother, promising, as she did so, that she would be back in half a minute.


That half minute was protracted beyond half an hour.


"If you'll take my advice," said Kate, at last, standing up with her candle in her hand, "you'll ask her in plain words to give you another chance.

"If you'll take my advice," said Kate to him, with her candle in her hand, "you'll ask her to give you another chance.


Do it to-morrow at Strasbourg; you'll never have a better opportunity."

Do it tomorrow at Strasbourg; you'll never have a better opportunity."


"Don't say anything about John Grey; leave her to settle that matter with herself.

"Don't say anything about John Grey. Leave her to settle that herself.


Believe me that she has quite courage enough to dispose of John Grey, if she has courage enough to accept your offer."

She has quite courage enough to dispose of John Grey, if she has courage enough to accept your offer."


"Kate, you women never understand each other.


If I were to do that, all her most powerful feelings would be arrayed in arms against me.


I must leave her to find out first that she wishes to be rid of her engagement."

She must find out first that she wishes to be rid of her engagement."


"She has found that out long ago, I am sure of it.


Do you think I don't know what she wishes?


But if you can't bring yourself to speak to her, she'll marry him in spite of her wishes."


I've never been very slow in bringing myself to speak to any one when there was need.


It isn't very pleasant sometimes, but I do it, if I find occasion."


"But surely it must be pleasant with her.


You must be glad to find that she still loves you.


I'm moving heaven and earth to bring you two together; but if I didn't think you loved her, I'd go to her at once and bid her never see you again."

I'm moving heaven and earth to bring you two together; but if I didn't think you loved her, I'd tell her never to see you again."


"Upon my word, Kate, I sometimes think it would be better if you'd leave heaven and earth alone."


But of all human beings, surely you're the most ungrateful."


"Why shouldn't she marry John Grey if she likes him?"


I hate the sound of his voice, and the turn of his eye, and that slow, steady movement of his,--as though he was always bethinking himself that he wouldn't wear out his clothes."

I hate the sound of his voice, and the turn of his eye, and that slow, steady movement of his - as though he was always reminding himself not to wear out his clothes."


"I don't see that your hating him ought to have anything to do with it."


"If you're going to preach morals, I'll leave you.

"If you're going to preach, I'll leave you.


It's the darling wish of my heart that she should be your wife.


If you ever loved anybody,--and I sometimes doubt whether you ever did,--but if you did, you loved her."

If you ever loved anybody, you loved her."


It has been the same in every twist and turn of my life.


In everything that I have striven to do for you, you have thrown yourself over, in order that I might be thrown over too.


But I believe you say this merely to vex me."


"Upon my word, Kate, I think you'd better go to bed."


I won't leave her to be deceived and ill-used again."


Is it not the worst of ill-usage, trying to separate her from that man?"


"No;--if I thought so, I would have no hand in doing it.


She would be miserable with him, and make him miserable as well.


He loves her, but I've nothing to do with that.


It's nothing to me if he breaks his heart."

it's nothing to me if he breaks his heart."


"I shall break mine if you don't let me go to bed."


With that she went away and hurried along the corridor, till she came to her cousin's room.

With that she went away to her cousin's room.


She found Alice still seated at the window, or rather kneeling on the chair, with her head out through the lattice.

She found Alice still seated at the window, with her head out through the lattice.


"Why, you lazy creature," said Kate; "I declare you haven't touched a thing."


If he ever does get married, what will his wife do with him?"


"I don't think he ever will," said Alice.


I dare say you understand him better than I do.


Sometimes I think that the only thing wanting to make him thoroughly good, is a wife.

Sometimes I think that the only thing needed to make him thoroughly good is a wife.


But it isn't every woman that would do for him.


And the woman who marries him should have high courage.


There are moments with him when he is very wild; but he never is cruel and never hard.

There are moments when he is very wild; but he is never cruel or hard.


"When you say that, Kate, I know that you mean to abuse him."


I like a man to be wild,--wild in my sense.

I like a man to be wild, wild in my sense.


"I wonder whether you'd like a wild man for yourself?"


that's a question I've never asked myself.


I've been often curious to consider what sort of husband would suit you, but I've had very few thoughts about a husband for myself.


"Since you and he were parted, I've had nothing to do in life but to stick to him.


And I shall do so to the end,--unless one thing should happen."

And I shall do so to the end, unless one thing should happen."


"Unless you should become his wife after all.


"Kate, you shouldn't allude to such a thing now.


As far as I'm concerned, it is all the better for me.


If George ever married, I should have nothing to do in the world;--literally nothing--nothing--nothing--nothing!"

If George ever married, I should have nothing to do in the world; literally nothing!"


"Kate, don't talk in that way," and Alice came up to her and embraced her.

"Kate, don't talk in that way," and Alice embraced her.


When you are married to John Grey, our friendship must be over.


If you became George's wife I should become nobody.


You and he would be so all-sufficient for each other, that I should drop away from you like an old garment.


But I'd give up all, everything, every hope I have, to see you become George's wife.

But I'd give up everything to see you become George's wife.


I know myself to be very bad, and yet I care nothing for myself.


Don't Alice, don't; I don't want your caresses.

Don't, Alice; I don't want your caresses.


Caress him, and I'll kneel at your feet and cover them with kisses."


She had now thrown herself upon a sofa, and had turned her face away to the wall.


"Kate, you shouldn't speak in that way."


"You, who know everything, must know that I cannot marry your brother,--even if he wished it."

"You know that I cannot marry your brother - even if he wished it."


"Not though I were under no other engagement."

"Not even if I were bound to no other engagement."


"What is there to separate you from George now, but that unfortunate affair, that will end in the misery of you all.


Don't I know which of the two men you like best?"


"You are making me sorry, Kate, that I have ventured to come here in your brother's company.

"You are making me sorry, Kate, that I ventured to come here with your brother.


It is not only unkind of you to talk to me in this way, but worse than that--it is indelicate."

It is not only unkind of you, it is indelicate."


If any word in the language reminds me of a whited sepulchre it is that;--all clean and polished outside with filth and rottenness within.


That may be delicate enough if you love him truly, and feel yourself fitted to be his wife; but it's about the most indelicate thing you can do, if you love any one better than him.

If you love anyone better, marrying him is about the most indelicate thing you can do."


Delicacy with many women is like their cleanliness.


Nothing can be nicer than the whole outside get-up, but you wouldn't wish to answer for anything beneath."


How can I think ill of you when I know that all your difficulties have come from him?


It hasn't been your fault; it has been his throughout.

It hasn't been your fault; it has been his.


It is he who has driven you to sacrifice yourself on this altar.


If we can, both of us, manage to lay aside all delicacy and pretence, and dare to speak the truth, we shall acknowledge that it is so.


Had Mr. Grey come to you while things were smooth between you and George, would you have thought it possible that he could be George's rival in your estimation?

If Mr. Grey had come to you while things were smooth between you and George, would you have thought it possible that he could be George's rival?"


You know what is the darling wish of my heart.


But, Alice, if I thought that Mr. Grey was to you Hyperion,--if I thought that you could marry him with that sort of worshipping, idolatrous love which makes a girl proud as well as happy in her marriage, I wouldn't raise a little finger to prevent it."


To this Alice made no answer, and then Kate allowed the matter to drop.


Alice made no answer, though she felt that she was allowing judgement to go against her by default in not doing so.


She had intended to fight bravely, and to have maintained the excellence of her present position as the affianced bride of Mr. Grey, but she felt that she had failed.

She had intended to fight bravely, and to have shown the excellence of her position as Mr. Grey's fiance, but she felt that she had failed.


She felt that she had, in some sort, acknowledged that the match was one to be deplored;--that her words in her own defence would by no means have satisfied Mr. Grey, if Mr. Grey could have heard them;--that they would have induced him to offer her back her troth rather than have made him happy as a lover.

She felt that she had somehow acknowledged that the match was to be deplored.


She would hurry home and bid him name the earliest day he pleased.

But she would hurry home and bid Mr. Grey name the earliest day he pleased.


After that her cousin would cease to disturb her in her career.

After that her cousin would cease to disturb her.


It was nearly one o'clock before the two girls began to prepare for their morning start, and Alice, when they had finished their packing, seemed to be worn out with fatigue.

It was nearly one o'clock before the two girls began to pack, and


"If you are tired, dear, we'll put it off," said Kate.


"For half a word we'll do it," continued Kate.


"I'll slip out to George and tell him, and there's nothing he'd like so much."


About two they got into bed, and punctually at six they were at the railway station.

about two when they got into bed. At six they were at the railway station.


"Don't speak to me," said George, when he met them at their door in the passage.


However, they were in time,--which means abroad that they were at the station half an hour before their train started,--and they went on upon their journey to Strasbourg.

Half an hour later they were on their way to Strasbourg.


There is nothing further to be told of their tour.


They were but two days and nights on the road from Basle to London; and during those two days and nights neither George nor Kate spoke a word to Alice of her marriage, nor was any allusion made to the balcony at the inn, or to the bridge over the river.

They were two days and nights on the road from Basle to London; and during those two days and nights neither George nor Kate spoke a word to Alice of her marriage, nor was any allusion made to the balcony at the inn, or the bridge over the river.


Kate Vavasor remained only three days in London before she started for Yarmouth; and during those three days she was not much with her cousin.

Kate Vavasor remained only three days in London before she started for Yarmouth.


"I'm my aunt's, body and soul, for the next six weeks," she said to Alice, when she did come to Queen Anne Street on the morning after her arrival.

"I'm my aunt's, body and soul, for the next six weeks," she told Alice when she visited.


"And she is exigeant in a manner I can't at all explain to you.

"And she is exacting in a way I can't describe.


You mustn't be surprised if I don't even write a line.


She went up-stairs to try on some new weeds for the seaside, and then I bolted."

She went upstairs to try on some new clothes for the seaside, and I bolted."


She did not say a word about George; nor during those three days, nor for some days afterwards, did George show himself.

She did not say a word about George; nor did George show himself.


As it turned out afterwards, he had gone off to Scotland, and had remained a week among the grouse.

He said afterwards that he had gone off to Scotland, and had remained a week among the grouse.


Thus, at least, he had accounted for himself and his movements; but all George Vavasor's friends knew that his goings out and comings in were seldom accounted for openly like those of other men.


It will perhaps be as well to say a few words about Mrs. Greenow before we go with her to Yarmouth.

It will be as well to say a few words about Mrs. Greenow before we go with her to Yarmouth.


Mrs. Greenow was the only daughter and the youngest child of the old squire at Vavasor Hall.

Mrs. Greenow was the only daughter of the old squire at Vavasor Hall.


She was just ten years younger than her brother John, and I am inclined to think that she was almost justified in her repeated assertion that the difference was much greater than ten years, by the freshness of her colour, and by the general juvenility of her appearance.

She was ten years younger than her brother John, but looked younger still.


She certainly did not look forty, and who can expect a woman to proclaim herself to be older than her looks?


In early life she had been taken from her father's house, and had lived with relatives in one of the large towns in the north of England.

In early life she lived with relatives in a town in the north of England.


It is certain she had not been quite successful as a girl.


Though she had enjoyed the name of being a beauty, she had not the usual success which comes from such repute.

Although she had the reputation of being a beauty,


She had, moreover, acquired the character of being a flirt; and I fear that the stories which were told of her, though doubtless more than half false, had in them sufficient of truth to justify the character.

She had, moreover, acquired the character of being a flirt; and I fear that there was some truth in this.


Now this was very sad, seeing that Arabella Vavasor had no fortune, and that she had offended her father and brothers by declining to comply with their advice at certain periods of her career.

Now this was very sad, seeing that Arabella Vavasor had no fortune, and that she had offended her father and brothers by declining to take their advice at various times.


There was, indeed, considerable trouble in the minds of the various male Vavasors with reference to Arabella, when tidings suddenly reached the Hall that she was going to be married to an old man.

They were, indeed, quite troubled about her, when they heard the news that that she was going to be married to an old man.


She was married to the old man; and the marriage fortunately turned out satisfactorily, at any rate for the old man and for her family.

The marriage fortunately turned out satisfactorily.


The Vavasors were relieved from all further trouble, and were as much surprised as gratified when they heard that she did her duty well in her new position.

The Vavasors were relieved from their trouble, and were as much surprised as gratified when they heard that she did her wifely duty well.


Arabella had long been a thorn in their side, never having really done anything which they could pronounce to be absolutely wrong, but always giving them cause for fear.


Her husband was a retired merchant, very rich, not very strong in health, and devoted to his bride.

Her husband was a retired merchant, very rich, not very well, and devoted to his bride.


Rumours soon made their way to Vavasor Hall, and to Queen Anne Street, that Mrs. Greenow was quite a pattern wife, and that Mr. Greenow considered himself to be the happiest old man in Lancashire.

Rumours soon reached Vavasor Hall that Mrs. Greenow was a model wife, and that Mr. Greenow considered himself to be the happiest old man in Lancashire.


And now in her prosperity she quite forgave the former slights which had been put upon her by her relatives.


She wrote to her dear niece Alice, and to her dearest niece Kate, and sent little presents to her father.


On one occasion she took her husband to Vavasor Hall, and there was a regular renewal of all the old family feelings.


Arabella's husband was an old man, and was very old for his age; but the whole thing was quite respectable, and there was, at any rate, no doubt about the money.

; he was very old for his age, but the marriage was quite respectable, and there was, at any rate, no doubt about the money.


Then Mr. Greenow died; and the widow, having proved the will, came up to London and claimed the commiseration of her nieces.

Then Mr. Greenow died; and the widow came to London and claimed the commiseration of her nieces.


"Why not go to Yarmouth with her for a month?"


But an aunt with forty thousand pounds has a right to claim attention."


Kate acknowledged the truth of the argument and agreed to go to Yarmouth for a month.

The old squire had also written to her, telling her to go if asked. So Kate agreed to go to Yarmouth for a month.


"Your aunt Arabella has shown herself to be a very sensible woman," the old squire had written; "much more sensible than anybody thought her before her marriage.


Of course you should go with her if she asks you."


What aunt, uncle, or cousin, in the uncontrolled possession of forty thousand pounds was ever unpopular in the family?


Yarmouth is not a very prepossessing place to the eye.

Yarmouth is not a very prepossessing place.


There is an old town with which summer visitors have little or nothing to do; and there are the new houses down by the sea-side, to which, at any rate, belongs the full advantage of sea air.

There is an old town which summer visitors do not venture into; and there are the new houses down by the sea-side.


A kind of esplanade runs for nearly a mile along the sands, and there are built, or in the course of building, rows of houses appropriated to summer visitors all looking out upon the sea.

A kind of esplanade runs for nearly a mile along the sands, and there are rows of new houses for summer visitors, all looking out upon the sea.


There is no beauty unless the yellow sandy sea can be called beautiful.


The coast is low and straight, and the east wind blows full upon it.


But the place is healthy; and Mrs. Greenow was probably right in thinking that she might there revive some portion of the health which she had lost in watching beside the couch of her departing lord.


These were the first words Mrs. Greenow spoke as she put her foot upon the platform at the Yarmouth station.

These were the first words Mrs. Greenow spoke as she put her foot upon the platform at Yarmouth station.


Her maid's name was Jenny; but Kate had already found, somewhat to her dismay, that orders had been issued before they left London that the girl was henceforth to be called Jeannette.

Her maid's name was Jenny; but Kate had found, somewhat to her dismay, that the girl was to be called Jeannette.


Kate had also already found that her aunt could be imperious; but this taste for masterdom had not shown itself so plainly in London as it did from the moment that the train had left the station at Shoreditch.

Mrs. Greenow's taste for masterdom had not shown itself so plainly in London as it did now.


In London Mrs. Greenow had been among Londoners, and her career had hitherto been provincial.


Her spirit, no doubt, had been somewhat cowed by the novelty of her position.


But when she felt herself to be once beyond the stones as the saying used to be, she was herself again; and at Ipswich she had ordered Jeannette to get her a glass of sherry with an air which had created a good deal of attention among the guards and porters.

But outside London she was herself again; and at Ipswich she had ordered Jeannette to get her a glass of sherry with an air which had created a good deal of attention among the porters.


The fly was procured; and with considerable exertion all Mrs. Greenow's boxes, together with the more moderate belongings of her niece and maid, were stowed on the top of it, round upon the driver's body on the coach box, on the maid's lap, and I fear in Kate's also, and upon the vacant seat.

The cab was found; and all Mrs. Greenow's boxes, together with the more moderate belongings of her niece and maid, were stowed on the top of it, around the driver, on the maid's lap, and Kate's also, and upon the vacant seat.


"The large house in Montpelier Parade," said Mrs. Greenow.


"They is all large, ma'am," said the driver.


"They're much of a muchness," said the driver.


"But I was particularly told it was the largest in the row."

I was told it was the largest in the row."


"I know Mrs. Jones's well," said the driver, and away they went.

"I know Mrs. Jones's," said the driver, and away they went.


Mrs. Jones's house was handsome and comfortable; but I fear Mrs. Greenow's satisfaction in this respect was impaired by her disappointment in finding that it was not perceptibly bigger than those to the right and left of her.

Mrs. Jones's house was handsome and comfortable; but I fear Mrs. Greenow was disappointed to find that it was not perceptibly bigger than those on either side.


Her ambition in this and in other similar matters would have amused Kate greatly had she been a bystander, and not one of her aunt's party.

This ambition would have amused Kate greatly had she been a bystander, and not her aunt's companion.


Mrs. Greenow was good-natured, liberal, and not by nature selfish; but she was determined not to waste the good things which fortune had given, and desired that all the world should see that she had forty thousand pounds of her own.

Mrs. Greenow was good-natured and generous; but she desired that all the world should see that she had forty thousand pounds.


And in doing this she was repressed by no feeling of false shame.


She never hesitated in her demands through bashfulness.


She called aloud for such comfort and grandeur as Yarmouth could afford her, and was well pleased that all around should hear her calling.

She called aloud for such comfort and grandeur as Yarmouth could give her, and was well pleased that all around should hear her calling.


Joined to all this was her uncontrolled grief for her husband's death.


Oh, Kate, if you'd only known that man!"


When she said this she was sitting in the best of Mrs. Jones's sitting-rooms, waiting to have dinner announced.

When she said this she was sitting in the best of Mrs. Jones's sitting-rooms, before dinner.


She had taken a drawing-room and dining-room, "because," as she had said, "she didn't see why people should be stuffy when they went to the seaside;--not if they had means to make themselves comfortable."


"I wish I had," said Kate,--very untruly.

"I wish I had," said Kate, untruthfully.


"I was unfortunately away when he went to Vavasor Hall."

"I was away when he came to Vavasor Hall."


"Ah, yes; but it was at home, in the domestic circle, that Greenow should have been seen to be appreciated.

"Ah, yes; but it was at home that Greenow had to be seen to be appreciated.


I was a happy woman, Kate, while that lasted."


And Kate was surprised to see that real tears--one or two on each side--were making their way down her aunt's cheeks.

And Kate was surprised to see that real tears were making their way down her aunt's cheeks.


But they were soon checked with a handkerchief of the broadest hem and of the finest cambric.

But they were soon checked with a handkerchief of the finest cambric.


"Dinner, ma'am," said Jeannette, opening the door.


"Jeannette, I told you always to say that dinner was served."


"Dinner's served then," said Jeannette in a tone of anger.

"Dinner's served then," said Jeannette angrily.


"I've but little appetite myself, but there's no reason you shouldn't eat your dinner.

"I've little appetite myself, but there's no reason you shouldn't eat your dinner.


I specially wrote to Mrs. Jones to have some sweetbread.


It's very little I eat myself, but I do like to see things nice."


The next day was Sunday; and it was beautiful to see how Mrs. Greenow went to church in all the glory of widowhood.


There had been a great unpacking after that banquet on the sweetbread, and all her funereal millinery had been displayed before Kate's wondering eyes.

There had been a great unpacking after dinner, and all her funereal outfits had been displayed before Kate's wondering eyes.


The charm of the woman was in this,--that she was not in the least ashamed of anything that she did.


She turned over all her wardrobe of mourning, showing the richness of each article, the stiffness of the crape, the fineness of the cambric, the breadth of the frills,--telling the price of each to a shilling, while she explained how the whole had been amassed without any consideration of expense.

Mrs. Greenow had pointed out the richness of each garment, the fineness of the fabric, the breadth of the frills - telling the price of each to a shilling, while she explained how expense had been of no consideration.


This she did with all the pride of a young bride when she shows the glories of her trousseau to the friend of her bosom.

This she did with all the pride of a young bride showing off her trousseau.


Jeannette stood by the while, removing one thing and exhibiting another.


Now and again through the performance, Mrs. Greenow would rest a while from her employment, and address the shade of the departed one in terms of most endearing affection.

Now and again, Mrs. Greenow would pause and address the shade of the departed one with affectionate words.


In the midst of this Mrs. Jones came in; but the widow was not a whit abashed by the presence of the stranger.

In the midst of this Mrs. Jones came in; but the widow was not at all abashed by her presence.


she said at last, as she carefully folded up a huge black crape mantilla.


She made, however, but one syllable of the classical word, and Mrs. Jones thought that her lodger had addressed herself to the mortal "remains" of her deceased lord.


[Illustration: "Peace be to his manes."]


"He is left her uncommon well off, I suppose," said Mrs. Jones to Jeannette.

"He left her uncommon well off, I suppose," said Mrs. Jones to Jeannette afterwards.


It's more nor a hundred thousand of pounds!"


"So she do;--but a lady can't bring her carriage down to the sea when she's only just buried her husband as one may say.

"She do; but a lady can't bring her carriage down to the sea when she's only just buried her husband.


What'd folks say if they saw her in her own carriage?


But it ain't because she can't afford it, Mrs. Jones.


And now we're talking of it you must order a fly for church to-morrow, that'll look private, you know.

And now we're talking of it you must order a cab for church tomorrow.


She said I was to get a man that had a livery coat and gloves."


The man with the coat and gloves was procured; and Mrs. Greenow's entry into church made quite a sensation.


There was a thoughtfulness about her which alone showed that she was a woman of no ordinary power.


She foresaw all necessities, and made provision for all emergencies.


Another would not have secured an eligible sitting, and been at home in Yarmouth church, till half the period of her sojourn there was over.


She walked up the middle aisle with as much self-possession as though the chancel had belonged to her family for years; and the respectable pew-opener absolutely deserted two or three old ladies whom she was attending, to show Mrs. Greenow into her seat.

She walked up the middle aisle as though the chancel had belonged to her family for years; and the respectable pew-opener deserted two or three old ladies to show Mrs. Greenow into her seat.


When seated, she was the cynosure of all eyes.


Kate Vavasor became immediately aware that a great sensation had been occasioned by their entrance, and equally aware that none of it was due to her.


I regret to say that this feeling continued to show itself throughout the whole service.

I regret to say that this continued throughout the whole service.


How many ladies of forty go to church without attracting the least attention!


But it is hardly too much to say that every person in that church had looked at Mrs. Greenow.

Every person in that church looked at Mrs. Greenow.


I doubt if there was present there a single married lady who, on leaving the building, did not speak to her husband of the widow.


There had prevailed during the whole two hours a general though unexpressed conviction that something worthy of remark had happened that morning.

There was a general conviction that something remarkable had happened that morning.


It had an effect even upon the curate's reading; and the incumbent, while preaching his sermon, could not keep his eyes off that wonderful bonnet and veil.

Even the minister, while preaching his sermon, could not keep his eyes off that wonderful bonnet and veil.


On the next morning, before eleven, Mrs. Greenow's name was put down at the Assembly Room.

Next morning Mrs. Greenow's name was put down at the Assembly Room.


"I need hardly say that in my present condition I care nothing for these things.


But, my dear Kate, I know what I owe to you."


Kate, with less intelligence than might have been expected from one so clever, began to assure her aunt that she required no society; and that, coming thus with her to the seaside in the early days of her widowhood, she had been well aware that they would live retired.

Kate, with less intelligence than might have been expected from one so clever, began to assure her aunt that she needed no society, and was expecting a quiet time.


But Mrs. Greenow soon put her down, and did so without the slightest feeling of shame or annoyance on her own part.

But Mrs. Greenow soon corrected her, without any sign of annoyance.


"My dear," she said, "in this matter you must let me do what I know to be right.

"My dear," she said, " you must let me do what I know to be right.


I should consider myself to be very selfish if I allowed my grief to interfere with your amusements."

I should be very selfish if I allowed my grief to interfere with your amusements."


"But, aunt, I don't care for such amusements."


How are you to settle yourself in life if you don't care for them?"


said Mrs. Greenow, astounded, as though there must have been some hidden marriage of which she had not heard.


Of course you're not settled; and how are you to be, if I allow you to shut yourself up in such a place as this,--just where a girl has a chance?"

Of course you're not settled; and how are you to be, if I allow you to shut yourself up?"


It was in vain that Kate tried to stop her.


It was not easy to stop Mrs. Greenow when she was supported by the full assurance of being mistress of the place and of the occasion.


"No, my dear; I know very well what I owe to you, and I shall do my duty.

"No, my dear; I shall do my duty by you.


As I said before, society can have no charms now for such a one as I am.


All that social intercourse could ever do for me lies buried in my darling's grave.


My heart is desolate, and must remain so.


But I'm not going to immolate you on the altars of my grief.


I shall force myself to go out for your sake, Kate."


"But, dear aunt, the world will think it so odd, just at present."

"But, dear aunt, the world will think it so odd."


I'm not dependent on the world,--thanks to the care of that sainted lamb.

I'm not dependent on the world - thanks to that sainted lamb.


I can hold my own; and as long as I can do that the world won't hurt me.


No, Kate, if I think a thing's right I shall do it.


No, Kate; I mean to make the place pleasant for you if I can, and the world may object if it likes."


Mrs. Greenow was probably right in her appreciation of the value of her independence.


Remarks may perhaps have been made by the world of Yarmouth as to her early return to society.


People, no doubt, did remind each other that old Greenow was hardly yet four months buried.

no doubt did remind each other that old Greenow was hardly yet four months buried.


Mrs. Jones and Jeannette probably had their little jokes down-stairs.

Mrs. Jones and Jeannette probably had their little jokes downstairs.


What was said, was not said in her hearing, Mrs. Jones's bills were paid every Saturday with admirable punctuality; and as long as this was done everybody about the house treated the lady with that deference which was due to the respectability of her possessions.

Mrs. Jones's bills were paid punctually; and everybody in the house treated the lady with due deference.


When a recently bereaved widow attempts to enjoy her freedom without money, then it behoves the world to speak aloud;--and the world does its duty.


Numerous people came to call at Montpelier Parade, and Kate was astonished to find that her aunt had so many friends.


She was indeed so bewildered by these strangers that she could hardly ascertain whom her aunt had really known before, and whom she now saw for the first time.

She was indeed so bewildered by these strangers that she could hardly work out whom her aunt had known before, and whom she met for the first time.


Somebody had known somebody who had known somebody else, and that was allowed to be a sufficient introduction,--always presuming that the existing somebody was backed by some known advantages of money or position.

Somebody had known somebody who had known somebody else, and that was sufficient introduction.


Mrs. Greenow could smile from beneath her widow's cap in a most bewitching way.


"Upon my word then she is really handsome," Kate wrote one day to Alice.


But she could also frown, and knew well how to put aside, or, if need be, to reprobate any attempt at familiarity from those whose worldly circumstances were supposed to be disadvantageous.

But she could also frown, and knew how to quell any attempt at familiarity from unsuitable people.


"My dear aunt," said Kate one morning after their walk upon the pier, "how you did snub that Captain Bellfield!"


At any rate he has sold out, and the tradesmen have had a scramble for the money.

At any rate he has sold out, and the tradesmen have scrambled for the money.


He was only a lieutenant when the 97th were in Manchester, and I'm sure he's never had a shilling to purchase since that."

He was only a lieutenant when the 97th were in Manchester."


"Perhaps they do not know so much of him as I do.


The idea of his having the impudence to tell me I was looking very well!

His impudence in telling me I was looking very well!


Nothing can be so mean as men who go about in that way when they haven't money enough in their pockets to pay their washerwomen."

Nothing can be so mean as men who go about in that way when they haven't enough money in their pockets to pay their washerwomen."


"But how do you know, aunt, that Captain Bellfield hasn't paid his washerwoman?"

"But, aunt, how do you know that Captain Bellfield hasn't paid his washerwoman?"


How could I tell whose attentions you should receive and whose you shouldn't, if I didn't inquire into these things?"


It was in vain that Kate rebelled, or attempted to rebel against this more than maternal care.

It was in vain that Kate attempted to rebel against this care.


She told her aunt that she was now nearly thirty, and that she had managed her own affairs, at any rate with safety, for the last ten years;--but it was to no purpose.

She told her aunt that she was now nearly thirty, and that she had managed her own affairs for the last ten years; but it was to no purpose.


Kate would get angry; but Mrs. Greenow never became angry.


Kate would be quite in earnest; but Mrs. Greenow would push aside all that her niece said as though it were worth nothing.

Mrs. Greenow would push aside all that her niece said as though it were unimportant.


Kate was an unmarried woman with a very small fortune, and therefore, of course, was desirous of being married with as little delay as possible.

Kate was an unmarried woman with a very small fortune, and therefore, of course, wished to get married as soon as possible.


It was natural that she should deny that it was so, especially at this early date in their mutual acquaintance.

It was natural that she should deny this,


When the niece came to know her aunt more intimately, there might be confidence between them, and then they would do better.

although when she came to know her aunt more intimately, she might admit it.


But Mrs. Greenow would spare neither herself nor her purse on Kate's behalf, and she would be a dragon of watchfulness in protecting her from the evil desires of such useless men as Captain Bellfield.

But Mrs. Greenow would spare neither herself nor her purse on Kate's behalf, and she would be a dragon of watchfulness in protecting her from such useless men as Captain Bellfield.


"I declare, Kate, I don't understand you," she said one morning to her niece as they sat together over a late breakfast.

"I declare, Kate, I don't understand you," she said one morning over a late breakfast.


They had fallen into luxurious habits, and I am afraid it was past eleven o'clock, although the breakfast things were still on the table.

They had fallen into luxurious habits, and I am afraid it was past eleven o'clock.


Kate would usually bathe before breakfast, but Mrs. Greenow was never out of her room till half-past ten.


"I like the morning for contemplation," she once said.


"When a woman has gone through all that I have suffered she has a great deal to think of."


"And it is so much more comfortable to be a-thinking when one's in bed," said Jeannette, who was present at the time.


"Child, hold your tongue," said the widow.


But we'll return to the scene at the breakfast-table.


"You only danced twice last night, and once you stood up with Captain Bellfield."

"You only danced twice last night, and once with Captain Bellfield."


"On purpose to ask after that poor woman who washes his clothes without getting paid for it."

"On purpose to ask after his poor washerwoman who doesn't get paid."


"Nonsense, Kate; you didn't ask him anything of the kind, I'm sure.

"Nonsense, Kate; you didn't ask him anything of the kind.


"But what harm can Captain Bellfield do me?"


I don't mean to say you ain't quite as young as ever you were, and nothing can be nicer and fresher than you are;--especially since you took to bathing."


I declare I don't think I ever saw a young woman so improvident as you are.


When are you to begin to think about getting married if you don't do it now?"


"I shall never begin to think about it, till I buy my wedding clothes."

"I shall never begin to think about it."


How are you to get wedding clothes if you have never thought about getting a husband?


Didn't I see Mr. Cheesacre ask you for a dance last night?"

Didn't Mr. Cheesacre ask you for a dance last night?"


"Yes, he did; while you were talking to Captain Bellfield yourself, aunt."


"Captain Bellfield can't hurt me, my dear.


And why didn't you dance with Mr. Cheesacre?"


"He's a fat Norfolk farmer, with not an idea beyond the virtues of stall-feeding."


"My dear, every acre of it is his own land,--every acre!

"My dear, every acre of it is his own land!


And he bought another farm for thirteen thousand pounds only last autumn.


They're better than the squires,--some of those gentlemen farmers; they are indeed.

They're better than the squires, some of those gentlemen farmers; they are indeed.


And of all men in the world they're the easiest managed."


"Of course it is;--a great recommendation."


Mrs. Greenow had no idea of joking when her mind was intent on serious things.


"He's to take us to the picnic to-morrow, and I do hope you'll manage to let him sit beside you.

He's to take us to the picnic tomorrow, and I do hope you'll let him sit beside you.


It'll be the place of honour, because he gives all the wine.

It'll be the place of honour, because he provides the wine.


He's picked up with that man Bellfield, and he's to be there; but if you allow your name to be once mixed up with his, it will be all over with you as far as Yarmouth is concerned."

That man Bellfield is to be there; but if you allow your name to be mixed up with his, it will be all over with you as far as Yarmouth is concerned."


"I don't at all want to be mixed up with Captain Bellfield, as you call it," said Kate.

"I don't want to be mixed up with Captain Bellfield," said Kate.


Then she subsided into her novel, while Mrs. Greenow busied herself about the good things for the picnic.


In truth, the aunt did not understand the niece.

In truth, the aunt did not understand her niece.


Whatsoever might be the faults of Kate Vavasor, an unmaidenly desire of catching a husband for herself was certainly not one of them.

Whatever Kate's faults were, an unmaidenly desire of catching a husband was certainly not one of them.


George Vavasor's feeling of triumph was not unjustifiable.

George Vavasor's feeling of triumph was justifiable.


It is something to have sat in the House of Commons, though it has been but for one session!

It is something to have sat in the House of Commons.


There is on the left-hand side of our great national hall,--on the left-hand side as one enters it, and opposite to the doors leading to the Law Courts,--a pair of gilded lamps, with a door between them, near to which a privileged old dame sells her apples and her oranges solely, as I presume, for the accommodation of the Members of the House and of the great policeman who guards the pass.

As one enters our great national hall, on the left-hand side are a pair of gilded lamps with a door between them.


Between those lamps is the entrance to the House of Commons, and none but Members may go that way!


It is the only gate before which I have ever stood filled with envy,--sorrowing to think that my steps might never pass under it.

It is the only gate before which I have ever stood filled with envy, sorrowing to think that my steps might never pass under it.


There are many portals forbidden to me, as there are many forbidden to all men; and forbidden fruit, they say, is sweet; but my lips have watered after no other fruit but that which grows so high, within the sweep of that great policeman's truncheon.


Ah, my male friend and reader, who earnest thy bread, perhaps, as a country vicar; or sittest, may-be, at some weary desk in Somerset House; or who, perhaps, rulest the yard behind the Cheapside counter, hast thou never stood there and longed,--hast thou never confessed, when standing there, that Fate has been unkind to thee in denying thee the one thing that thou hast wanted?


I have done so; and as my slow steps have led me up that more than royal staircase, to those passages and halls which require the hallowing breath of centuries to give them the glory in British eyes which they shall one day possess, I have told myself, in anger and in grief, that to die and not to have won that right of way, though but for a session,--not to have passed by the narrow entrance through those lamps,--is to die and not to have done that which it most becomes an Englishman to have achieved.

For as my slow steps have led me up that more than royal staircase, to those hallowed passages and halls, I have told myself, in anger and in grief, that to die and not to have won that right of way - not to have passed by the narrow entrance through those lamps - is not to have done that which it most becomes an Englishman to have achieved.


There are, doubtless, some who come out by that road, the loss of whose society is not to be regretted.


England does not choose her six hundred and fifty-four best men.

England does not always choose her six hundred and fifty-four best men.


One comforts one's self, sometimes, with remembering that.


The George Vavasors, the Calder Joneses, and the Botts are admitted.


Dishonesty, ignorance, and vulgarity do not close the gate of that heaven against aspirants; and it is a consolation to the ambition of the poor to know that the ambition of the rich can attain that glory by the strength of its riches alone.

Dishonesty, ignorance, and vulgarity do not close the gate of that heaven, though riches open it.


But though England does not send thither none but her best men, the best of her Commoners do find their way there.

Yet the best of England's Commoners do find their way there.


It is the highest and most legitimate pride of an Englishman to have the letters M.P.

It is the highest pride of an Englishman to have the letters M.P.


No selection from the alphabet, no doctorship, no fellowship, be it of ever so learned or royal a society, no knightship,--not though it be of the Garter,--confers so fair an honour.

No other membership confers so fair an honour.


Mr. Bott was right when he declared that this country is governed from between the walls of that House, though the truth was almost defiled by the lips which uttered it.


He might have added that from thence flow the waters of the world's progress,--the fullest fountain of advancing civilization.

flow the waters of the world's advancing civilization.


George Vavasor, as he went in by the lamps and the apple-stall, under the guardianship of Mr. Bott, felt all the pride of which I have been speaking.

George Vavasor, as he went in by the lamps under the guardianship of Mr. Bott, felt all due pride.


He was a man quite capable of feeling such pride as it should be felt,--capable, in certain dreamy moments, of looking at the thing with pure and almost noble eyes; of understanding the ambition of serving with truth so great a nation as that which fate had made his own.

He was capable, in dreamy moments, of looking at the thing with pure and almost noble eyes; of understanding the ambition of serving faithfully so great a nation.


Nature, I think, had so fashioned George Vavasor, that he might have been a good, and perhaps a great man; whereas Mr. Bott had been born small.

George Vavasor, I think, might have been a good, and perhaps a great man; whereas Mr. Bott had been born small.


Vavasor had educated himself to badness with his eyes open.

Vavasor had educated himself to badness knowingly.


He had known what was wrong, and had done it, having taught himself to think that bad things were best.

He had known what was wrong, and had done it.


But poor Mr. Bott had meant to do well, and thought that he had done very well indeed.


He was a tuft-hunter and a toady, but he did not know that he was doing amiss in seeking to rise by tuft-hunting and toadying.

He was a flatterer and a toady, but he did not know this was wrong.


He was both mean and vain, both a bully and a coward, and in politics, I fear, quite unscrupulous in spite of his grand dogmas; but he believed that he was progressing in public life by the proper and usual means, and was troubled by no idea that he did wrong.

He was both mean and vain, both a bully and a coward, and in politics, I fear, quite unscrupulous; but he believed that he was progressing by the proper means.


Vavasor, in those dreamy moments of which I have spoken, would sometimes feel tempted to cut his throat and put an end to himself, because he knew that he had taught himself amiss.

Vavasor, in his dreamy moments, would sometimes feel tempted to cut his throat and put an end to himself, because he knew that he had taught himself wrongly.


Again he would sadly ask himself whether it was yet too late; always, however, answering himself that it was too late.

He would sadly ask himself whether it was still too late; and he always answered that it was.


Even now, at this moment, as he went in between the lamps, and felt much of the honest pride of which I have spoken, he told himself that it was too late.

Even now, at this moment, as he went in between the lamps with honest pride, he told himself it was too late.


What could he do now, hampered by such a debt as that which he owed to his cousin, and with the knowledge that it must be almost indefinitely increased, unless he meant to give up this seat in Parliament, which had cost him so dearly, almost before he had begun to enjoy it?

What could he do now, hampered by the debt he owed his cousin, and with the knowledge that it must be hugely increased, unless he meant to give up this seat in Parliament almost before he had begun to enjoy it?


But his courage was good, and he was able to resolve that he would go on with the business that he had in hand, and play out his game to the end.

But his courage was good, and he resolved to play out his game to the end.


He had achieved his seat in the House of Commons, and was so far successful.

He had achieved his seat in the House of Commons.


Men who had ever been gracious to him were now more gracious than ever, and they who had not hitherto treated him with courtesy, now began to smile and to be very civil.

Men were gracious to him now, and those who had not treated him with courtesy began to be very civil.


It was, no doubt, a great thing to have the privilege of that entrance between the lamps.

It was a great thing to have the privilege of that entrance between the lamps.


Mr. Bott had the new Member now in hand, not because there had been any old friendship between them, but Mr. Bott was on the look-out for followers, and Vavasor was on the look-out for a party.

Mr. Bott had the new Member in hand, not because there was any old friendship between them, but because Mr. Bott was on the look-out for followers, and Vavasor was on the look-out for a party.


A man gets no great thanks for attaching himself to existing power.


Our friend might have enrolled himself among the general supporters of the Government without attracting much attention.


He would in such case have been at the bottom of a long list.


But Mr. Palliser was a rising man, round whom, almost without wish of his own, a party was forming itself.


If he came into power,--as come he must, according to Mr. Bott and many others,--then they who had acknowledged the new light before its brightness had been declared, might expect their reward.


Vavasor, as he passed through the lobby to the door of the House, leaning on Mr. Bott's arm, was very silent.

Vavasor, as he passed through the lobby to the door of the House with Mr. Bott, was very silent.


He had spoken but little since they had left their cab in Palace Yard, and was not very well pleased by the garrulity of his companion.

He was not very well pleased by the garrulity of his companion.


He was going to sit among the first men of his nation, and to take his chance of making himself one of them.


He believed in his own ability; he believed thoroughly in his own courage; but he did not believe in his own conduct.

He believed in his own ability and his own courage; but he did not believe in his own conduct.


He feared that he had done,--feared still more strongly that he would be driven to do,--that which would shut men's ears against his words, and would banish him from high places.

He feared that he had done - and would in future be driven to do - that which would shut men's ears against his words, and would banish him from high places.


No man believes in himself who knows himself to be a rascal, however great may be his talent, or however high his pluck.

No man believes in himself who knows himself to be a rascal.


"Yes," answered Vavasor, who wished to remain silent.


"But you have heard debates from the gallery.


Now you'll hear them from the body of the House, and you'll find how very different it is.


There's no man can know what Parliament is who has never had a seat.

No man can know what Parliament is who has never had a seat.


Indeed no one can thoroughly understand the British Constitution without it.


I felt, very early in life, that that should be my line; and though it's hard work and no pay, I mean to stick to it.


He's just returned for the Chelsea Districts, and I'm taking him up.


there's Farringcourt just coming out; he's listened to better than any man in the House now, but he'll borrow half-a-crown from you if you'll lend him one.

there's Farringcourt just coming out; he's listened to better than any man in the House, but he'll borrow half-a-crown from you if you'll lend him one.


I hope I have the pleasure of seeing you well?"


and Bott bowed low to a lord who was hurrying through the lobby as fast as his shuffling feet would carry him.

and Bott bowed low to a lord who was shuffling through the lobby.


Vavasor, however, did not know the lord in question, and was obliged to say so.


"I thought you were up to all these things?"


"Taking the peerage generally, I am not up to it," said Vavasor, with a curl on his lip.


That was Viscount Middlesex; he has got something on to-night about the Irish Church.

"That was Viscount Middlesex; he has got something on tonight about the Irish Church.


His father is past ninety, and he's over sixty.


We'll go in now; but let me give you one bit of advice, my dear fellow--don't think of speaking this session.

We'll go in now; but let me give you one bit of advice, my dear fellow - don't think of speaking this session.


A Member can do no good at that work till he has learned something of the forms of the House.

A Member can do no good by speaking till he has learned the forms of the House.


The forms of the House are everything; upon my word they are.


This is Mr. Vavasor, the new Member for the Chelsea Districts."


Our friend was thus introduced to the doorkeeper, who smiled familiarly, and seemed to wink his eye.

Our friend was thus introduced to the doorkeeper, who smiled familiarly, and seemed to wink.


Then George Vavasor passed through into the House itself, under the wing of Mr. Bott.

Then George Vavasor passed through into the House itself.


Vavasor, as he walked up the House to the Clerk's table and took the oath and then walked down again, felt himself to be almost taken aback by the little notice which was accorded to him.

Vavasor, as he walked up to the Clerk's table and took the oath and then walked down again, was almost taken aback by the little notice which was taken of him.


It was not that he had expected to create a sensation, or that he had for a moment thought on the subject, but the thing which he was doing was so great to him, that the total indifference of those around him was a surprise to him.

It was not that he had expected to create a sensation, but the thing which he was doing was so great to him that the total indifference of those around him came as a surprise.


After he had taken his seat, a few men came up by degrees and shook hands with him; but it seemed, as they did so, merely because they were passing that way.

After he had taken his seat, a few men came up and shook hands with him; but merely, it seemed, because they were passing that way.


He was anxious not to sit next to Mr. Bott, but he found himself unable to avoid this contiguity.

He was anxious not to sit next to Mr. Bott, but he was unable to avoid it.


That gentleman stuck to him pertinaciously, giving him directions which, at the spur of the moment, he hardly knew how not to obey.


So he found himself sitting behind Mr. Palliser, a little to the right, while Mr. Bott occupied the ear of the rising man.


There was a debate in progress, but it seemed to Vavasor, as soon as he was able to become critical, to be but a dull affair, and yet the Chancellor of the Exchequer was on his legs, and Mr. Palliser was watching him as a cat watches a mouse.

There was a debate in progress. It seemed to Vavasor that it was a dull affair. The Chancellor of the Exchequer was on his legs, and Mr. Palliser was watching him as a cat watches a mouse.


The speaker was full of figures, as becomes a Chancellor of the Exchequer; and as every new budget of them fell from him, Mr. Bott, with audible whispers, poured into the ear of his chief certain calculations of his own, most of which went to prove that the financier in office was altogether wrong.

The speaker was full of figures; and Mr. Bott, with audible whispers, poured into the ear of his chief his own calculations, most of which went to prove that the Chancellor was altogether wrong.


Vavasor thought that he could see that Mr. Palliser was receiving more of his assistance than was palatable to him.

Vavasor thought that Mr. Palliser received more of this assistance than he liked.


He would listen, if he did listen, without making any sign that he heard, and would occasionally shake his head with symptoms of impatience.

He would listen, if he did listen, without making any sign that he heard, and would occasionally shake his head impatiently.


But Mr. Bott was a man not to be repressed by a trifle.


When Mr. Palliser shook his head he became more assiduous than ever, and when Mr. Palliser slightly moved himself to the left, he boldly followed him.


No general debate arose on the subject which the Minister had in hand, and when he sat down, Mr. Palliser would not get up, though Mr. Bott counselled him to do so.

No general debate arose on the subject, and when the Chancellor sat down, Mr. Palliser would not get up, though Mr. Bott counselled him to do so.


The matter was over for the night, and the time had arrived for Lord Middlesex.


That nobleman got upon his feet, with a roll of papers in his hand, and was proceeding to address the House on certain matters of church reform, with great energy; but, alas, for him and for his feelings!

That nobleman got upon his feet, with a roll of papers in his hand, and was proceeding to address the House on matters of church reform, with great energy; but, alas, for him!


before his energy had got itself into full swing, the Members were swarming away through the doors like a flock of sheep.

before he had got into full swing, the Members were swarming away through the doors like a flock of sheep.


Mr. Palliser got up and went, and was followed at once by Mr. Bott, who succeeded in getting hold of his arm in the lobby.


Had not Mr. Palliser been an even-tempered, calculating man, with a mind and spirit well under his command, he must have learned to hate Mr. Bott before this time.

Had not Mr. Palliser been an even-tempered man, with a mind and spirit well under his command, he must have learned to hate Mr. Bott by now.


Away streamed the Members, but still the noble lord went on speaking, struggling hard to keep up his fire as though no such exodus were in process.

Away streamed the Members, but still the noble lord went on speaking as though no such exodus were in process.


He knew that the papers would not report one sentence in twenty of those he uttered.

He knew that the newspapers would not report one sentence in twenty of his speech.


He knew that no one would listen to him willingly.


He knew that he had worked for weeks and months to get up his facts, and he was beginning to know that he had worked in vain.

He knew that he had worked for weeks and months to get up his facts, and realised that he had worked in vain.


As he summoned courage to look round, he began to fear that some enemy would count the House, and that all would be over.


He had given heart and soul to this affair.


His cry was not as Vavasor's cry about the River Bank.


He believed in his own subject with a great faith, thinking that he could make men happier and better, and bring them nearer to their God.

He believed in his own subject with a great faith, thinking that he could bring men nearer to their God.


I said that he had worked for weeks and months.


I might have said that he had been all his life at this work.


Though he shuffled with his feet when he walked, and knocked his words together when he talked, he was an earnest man, meaning to do well, seeking no other reward for his work than the appreciation of those whom he desired to serve.

Though he shuffled when he walked, and knocked his words together when he talked, he was an earnest man, meaning to do well, seeking no reward other than appreciation.


For him there was in store nothing but disappointment.


And yet he will work on to the end, either in this House or in the other, labouring wearily, without visible wages of any kind, and, one may say, very sadly.


But when he has been taken to his long rest, men will acknowledge that he has done something, and there will be left on the minds of those who shall remember him a conviction that he served a good cause diligently, and not altogether inefficiently.

But when he has been taken to his long rest, men will remember that he served a good cause diligently, and not altogether inefficiently.


Invisible are his wages, yet in some coin are they paid.


Invisible is the thing he does, and yet it is done.


Let us hope that some sense of this tardy appreciation may soothe his spirit beyond the grave.


On the present occasion there was nothing to soothe his spirit.

But on the present occasion there was nothing to soothe his spirit.


The Speaker sat, urbane and courteous, with his eyes turned towards the unfortunate orator; but no other ears in the House seemed to listen to him.


The corps of reporters had dwindled down to two, and they used their pens very listlessly, taking down here a sentence and there a sentence, knowing that their work was naught.


Vavasor sat it out to the last, as it taught him a lesson in those forms of the House which Mr. Bott had truly told him it would be well that he should learn.

Vavasor sat it out to the last, as it taught him those forms of the House which Mr. Bott had told him he needed to learn.


And at last he did learn the form of a "count-out."


Some one from a back seat muttered something, which the Speaker understood; and that high officer, having had his attention called to a fact of which he would never have taken cognizance without such calling, did count the House, and finding that it contained but twenty-three Members, he put an end to his own labours and to those of poor Lord Middlesex.

Some one from a back seat muttered something, and the Speaker heard and counted the Members in the House. Finding only twenty-three Members, he put an end to the labours of poor Lord Middlesex.


With what feelings that noble lord must have taken himself home, and sat himself down in his study, vainly opening a book before his eyes, can we not all imagine?


A man he was with ample means, with children who would do honour to his name; one whose wife believed in him, if no one else would do so; a man, let us say, with a clear conscience, to whom all good things had been given.


But of whom now was he thinking with envy?


Early on that same day Farringcourt had spoken in the House,--a man to whom no one would lend a shilling, whom the privilege of that House kept out of gaol, whose word no man believed; who was wifeless, childless, and unloved.

And yet earlier on that same day Farringcourt had spoken in the House - a man to whom no one would lend a shilling, and whose word no one believed;


But three hundred men had hung listening upon his words.

but three hundred men had hung upon his words.


When he laughed in his speech, they laughed; when he was indignant against the Minister, they sat breathless, as the Spaniard sits in the critical moment of the bull-killing.

When he laughed in his speech, they laughed; when he was indignant, they sat breathless.


Whichever way he turned himself, he carried them with him.

Whichever way he turned, he carried them with him.


Crowds of Members flocked into the House from libraries and smoking-rooms when it was known that this ne'er-do-well was on his legs.

Crowds of Members flocked into the House from libraries and smoking-rooms when it was known that this ne'er-do-well was speaking.


The Strangers' Gallery was filled to overflowing.


The reporters turned their rapid pages, working their fingers wearily till the sweat drops stood upon their brows.


And as the Premier was attacked with some special impetus of redoubled irony, men declared that he would be driven to enrol the speaker among his colleagues, in spite of dishonoured bills and evil reports.

And as the Premier was attacked with irony, men declared that he would have to enrol the speaker among his colleagues.


A man who could shake the thunderbolts like that must be paid to shake them on the right side.


It was of this man, and of his success, that Lord Middlesex was envious, as he sat, wretched and respectable, in his solitary study!

It was this man that Lord Middlesex envied!


Mr. Bott had left the House with Mr. Palliser; and Vavasor, after the count-out, was able to walk home by himself, and think of the position which he had achieved.

Mr. Bott had left the House with Mr. Palliser; and after the count-out Vavasor walked home by himself, thinking of the position which he had achieved.


He told himself over and over again that he had done a great thing in obtaining that which he now possessed, and he endeavoured to teach himself that the price he was paying for it was not too dear.

He told himself over and over again that he had won a great thing, and tried to persuade himself that the price was not too dear.


But already there had come upon him something of that feeling,--that terribly human feeling,--which deprives every prize that is gained of half its value.

But already there had come upon him some feeling of anti-climax and disappointment.


The mere having it robs the diamond of its purity, and mixes vile alloy with the gold.


Lord Middlesex, as he had floundered on into terrible disaster, had not been a subject to envy.


There had been nothing of brilliance in the debate, and the Members had loomed no larger than ordinary men at ordinary clubs.

There had been no brilliance in the debate, and the Members had loomed no larger than ordinary men at ordinary clubs.


The very doorkeepers had hardly treated them with respect.


The great men with whose names the papers are filled had sat silent, gloomy, and apparently idle.

The great men named in the papers had sat silent, gloomy, and apparently idle


As soon as a fair opportunity was given them they escaped out of the House, as boys might escape from school.

; as soon as they could, they escaped from the House, as boys might escape from school.


Everybody had rejoiced in the break-up of the evening, except that one poor old lord who had worked so hard.


Vavasor had spent everything that he had to become a Member of that House, and now, as he went alone to his lodgings, he could not but ask himself whether the thing purchased was worth the purchase-money.

Vavasor had spent everything that he had to become a Member of that House, and now, as he went alone to his lodgings, he could not help asking himself whether it was worth the purchase-money.


Though he was gloomy, and almost sad, he knew that he could trust himself to fight out the battle to the last.

Though he was gloomy, and almost sad, he knew that he would fight the battle to the last.


On the morrow he would go to Queen Anne Street, and would demand sympathy there from her who had professed to sympathize with him so strongly in his political desires.

In the morrow he would go to Queen Anne Street, and would demand sympathy from Alice.


With her, at any rate, the glory of his Membership would not be dimmed by any untoward knowledge of the realities.

With her, at any rate, the glory of his Membership would not be dimmed by any knowledge of the realities.


She had only seen the play acted from the boxes; and to her eyes the dresses would still be of silk velvet, and the swords of bright steel.


We will leave Mrs. Greenow with her niece and two sisters at Yarmouth, and returning by stages to London, will call upon Mr. Grey at his place in Cambridgeshire as we pass by.

We will leave Mrs. Greenow with her niece at Yarmouth, and will call upon Mr. Grey at his place in Cambridgeshire.


I believe it is conceded by all the other counties, that Cambridgeshire possesses fewer rural beauties than any other county in England.


It is very flat; it is not well timbered; the rivers are merely dikes; and in a very large portion of the county the farms and fields are divided simply by ditches--not by hedgerows.

It is very flat; there are few trees; the rivers are merely dikes; and in much of the county the fields are divided simply by ditches, not by hedgerows.


Such arrangements are, no doubt, well adapted for agricultural purposes, but are not conducive to rural beauty.


Mr. Grey's residence was situated in a part of Cambridgeshire in which the above-named characteristics are very much marked.


It was in the Isle of Ely, some few miles distant from the Cathedral town, on the side of a long straight road, which ran through the fields for miles without even a bush to cheer it.

was in the Isle of Ely, a few miles from the Cathedral town, beside a long straight road which ran through the fields for miles without even a bush to cheer it.


The name of his place was Nethercoats, and here he lived generally throughout the year, and here he intended to live throughout his life.

The name of his place was Nethercoats, and here he lived throughout the year, and intended to live throughout his life.


His father had held a prebendal stall at Ely in times when prebendal stalls were worth more than they are at present, and having also been possessed of a living in the neighbourhood, had amassed a considerable sum of money.

His father had been a prebendary at Ely Cathedral, and a minister in the neighbourhood,


With this he had during his life purchased the property of Nethercoats, and had built on it the house in which his son now lived.

who had built the house in which his son now lived.


He had married late in life, and had lost his wife soon after the birth of an only child.


The house had been built in his own parish, and his wife had lived there for a few months and had died there.

His wife had lived there for only a few months, dying soon after the birth of their son.


But after that event the old clergyman had gone back to his residence in the Close at Ely, and there John Grey had had the home of his youth.

After that, the old clergyman had gone back to the Cathedral Close at Ely, and there John Grey


He had been brought up under his father's eye, having been sent to no public school.


But he had gone to Cambridge, had taken college honours, and had then, his father dying exactly at this time, declined to accept a fellowship.

He had taken honours at a Cambridge college, and had then, when his father died, declined a fellowship.


His father had left to him an income of some fifteen hundred a year, and with this he sat himself down, near to his college friends, near also to the old cathedral which he loved, in the house which his father had built.

His father had left him an income of some fifteen hundred a year, and with this he settled near to his college friends and the old cathedral he loved, in the house which his father had built.


But though Nethercoats possessed no beauty of scenery, though the country around it was in truth as uninteresting as any country could be, it had many delights of its own.

But though Nethercoats possessed no beautiful scenery, it was


The house itself was as excellent a residence for a country gentleman of small means as taste and skill together could construct.

an excellent residence for a country gentleman of small means.


I doubt whether prettier rooms were ever seen than the drawing-room, the library, and the dining-room at Nethercoats.


They were all on the ground-floor, and all opened out on to the garden and lawn.

, which all opened out on to the garden.


The library, which was the largest of the three, was a handsome chamber, and so filled as to make it well known in the University as one of the best private collections in that part of England.

The library, which was a handsome chamber, was known as one of the best private collections in that part of England.


But perhaps the gardens of Nethercoats constituted its greatest glory.

But perhaps the spacious gardens of Nethercoats were its greatest glory.


They were spacious and excellently kept up, and had been originally laid out with that knowledge of gardening without which no garden, merely as a garden, can be effective.

They were excellently tended, and had been laid out wisely.


And such, of necessity, was the garden of Nethercoats.


Fine single forest trees there were none there, nor was it possible that there should have been any such.

There could be no fine forest trees there


Nor could there be a clear rippling stream with steep green banks, and broken rocks lying about its bed.

; nor could there be a clear rippling stream with steep green banks.


Such beauties are beauties of landscape, and do not of their nature belong to a garden.


But the shrubs of Nethercoats were of the rarest kind, and had been long enough in their present places to have reached the period of their beauty.

But the shrubs were of the rarest kind, and mature enough to be in their full beauty.


Nothing had been spared that a garden could want.


The fruit-trees were perfect in their kind, and the glass-houses were so good and so extensive that John Grey in his prudence was some times tempted to think that he had too much of them.

The fruit-trees were perfect, and the glass-houses extensive.


It must be understood that there were no grounds, according to the meaning usually given to that word, belonging to the house at Nethercoats.


Between the garden and the public road there was a paddock belonging to the house, along the side of which, but divided from it by a hedge and shrubbery, ran the private carriageway up to the house.


This swept through the small front flower-garden, dividing it equally; but the lawns and indeed the whole of that which made the beauty of the place lay on the back of the house, on which side opened the windows from the three sitting-rooms.


Down on the public road there stood a lodge at which lived one of the gardeners.


There was another field of some six or seven acres, to which there was a gate from the corner of the front paddock, and which went round two sides of the garden.


This was Nethercoats, and the whole estate covered about twelve acres.

The whole estate, with gardens, lawns and fields, covered about twelve acres.


It was not a place for much bachelor enjoyment of that sort generally popular with bachelors; nevertheless Mr. Grey had been constant in his residence there for the seven years which had now elapsed since he had left his college.

Mr. Grey had lived there for seven years.


His easy access to Cambridge had probably done much to mitigate what might otherwise have been the too great tedium of his life; and he had, prompted thereto by early associations, found most of his society in the Close of Ely Cathedral.

He had easy access to Cambridge, and found most of his society in the Close of Ely Cathedral.


But, with all the delight he could derive from these two sources, there had still been many solitary hours in his life, and he had gradually learned to feel that he of all men wanted a companion in his home.

But he had gradually learned to feel that he wanted a companion in his home.


His visits to London had generally been short and far between, occasioned probably by some need in the library, or by the necessity of some slight literary transaction with the editor or publisher of a periodical.

His visits to London had generally been short and far between, to visit libraries or the editor of some periodical.


In one of these visits he had met Alice Vavasor, and had remained in Town,--I will not say till Alice had promised to share his home in Cambridgeshire, but so long that he had resolved before he went that he would ask her to do so.

On one of these visits he had met Alice Vavasor, and had resolved to ask her to share his home.


He had asked her, and we know that he had been successful.


He had obtained her promise, and from that moment all his life had been changed for him.

He had obtained her promise, and from that moment all his life had been changed.


Hitherto at Nethercoats his little smoking-room, his books, and his plants had been everything to him.


Now he began to surround himself with an infinity of feminine belongings, and to promise himself an infinity of feminine blessings, wondering much that he should have been content to pass so long a portion of his life in the dull seclusion which he had endured.

he now began to surround himself with feminine belongings, and to promise himself an infinity of feminine blessings.


He was not by nature an impatient man; but now he became impatient, longing for the fruition of his new idea of happiness,--longing to have that as his own which he certainly loved beyond all else in the world, and which, perhaps, was all he had ever loved with the perfect love of equality.

He became impatient, longing for the fruition of his new idea of happiness - longing to have that as his own which he certainly loved beyond all else in the world.


But though impatient, and fully aware of his own impatience, he acknowledged to himself that Alice could not be expected to share it.

But he acknowledged that Alice could not be expected to share his impatience.


He could plan nothing now,--could have no pleasure in life that she was not expected to share.


She had her house in London, her town society, and her father.


And, inasmuch as the change for her would be much greater than it would be for him, it was natural that she should require some small delay.

; and as the change for her would be much greater than it would be for him, it was natural that she should require some small delay.


At least he had not pressed her with that eager pressure which a girl must resist with something of the opposition of a contest, if she resist it at all.


But in truth his impatience was now waxing strong, and during the absence in Switzerland of which we have spoken, he resolved that a marriage very late in the autumn,--that a marriage even in winter, would be better than a marriage postponed till the following year.

But in truth his impatience was now growing strong, and during her absence in Switzerland, he resolved that a marriage late in the autumn - even in winter - would be better than a marriage postponed till the following year.


It was not yet late in August when the party returned from their tour.


Would not a further delay of two months suffice for his bride?


Alice had written to him occasionally from Switzerland, and her first two letters had been very charming.


They had referred almost exclusively to the tour, and had been made pleasant with some slightly coloured account of George Vavasor's idleness, and of Kate's obedience to her brother's behests.

They had described the tour pleasantly, with some slightly coloured account of George Vavasor's idleness, and of Kate's obedience to her brother.


Alice had never written much of love in her love-letters, and Grey was well enough contented with her style, though it was not impassioned.

Alice had never written much of love in her love-letters, and Grey was contented.


As for doubting her love, it was not in the heart of the man to do so after it had been once assured to him by her word.


He could not so slightly respect himself or her as to leave room for such a doubt in his bosom.


He was a man who could never have suggested to himself that a woman loved him till the fact was there before him; but who having ascertained, as he might think, the fact, could never suggest to himself that her love would fail him.

He was a man who could never have suggested to himself that a woman loved him till she accepted him; but after that, he could never think that her love would fail.


Her first two letters from Switzerland had been very pleasant; but after that there had seemed to have crept over her a melancholy which she unconsciously transferred to her words, and which he could not but taste in them,--at first unconsciously, also, but soon with so plain a flavour that he recognised it, and made it a matter of mental inquiry.

After those first two letters, however, there seemed to have crept into them an unconscious melancholy, which he soon recognised and thought much about.


During the three or four last days of the journey, while they were at Basle and on their way home, she had not written.

During the three or four last days of the journey, while they were on their way home, she had not written.


But she did write on the day after her arrival, having then received from Mr. Grey a letter, in which he told her how very much she would add to his happiness if she would now agree that their marriage should not be postponed beyond the end of October.

But on her arrival she received from Mr. Grey a letter which told her how very much she would add to his happiness if she would agree that their marriage should not be postponed beyond October.


This letter she found in her room on her return, and this she answered at once.


And she answered it in such words that Mr. Grey resolved that he would at once go to her in London.

in such words that Mr. Grey resolved that he must go to her in London.


I will give her letter at length, as I shall then be best able to proceed with my story quickly.


We reached home yesterday tired enough, as we came through from Paris without stopping.

We reached home yesterday tired, as we came through from Paris without stopping.


I may indeed say that we came through from Strasbourg, as we only slept in Paris.


A steeple, after all, is not everything, and putting the steeple aside, I don't think the style is good.


But the hotel was uncomfortable, which goes for so much;--and then we were saturated with beauty of a better kind.


I got your letter directly I came in last night, and I suppose I had better dash at it at once.

I got your letter when I came in last night, and I suppose I had better dash at it at once.


I would so willingly delay doing so, saying nice little things the while, did I not know that this would be mere cowardice.

I would willingly delay doing so, if I did not know that this would be mere cowardice.


Whatever happens I won't be a coward, and therefore I will tell you at once that I cannot let you hope that we should be married this year.


Of course you will ask me why, as you have a right to do, and of course I am bound to answer.

Of course you have a right to ask me why, and of course I am bound to answer.


I do not know that I can give any answer with which you will not have a right to complain.


If it be so, I can only ask your pardon for the injury I am doing you.


Marriage is a great change in life,--much greater to me than to you, who will remain in your old house, will keep your old pursuits, will still be your own master, and will change in nothing,--except in this, that you will have a companion who probably may not be all that you expect.

Marriage is a great change in life - much greater to me than to you, who will remain in your old house, will keep your old pursuits, will still be your own master, and will change in nothing - except that you will have a companion who may not be all that you expect.


It will be to me as though I were passing through a grave to a new world.

It will seem to me as though I were passing through a grave to a new world.


I shall see nothing that I have been accustomed to see, and must abandon all the ways of life that I have hitherto adopted.

I must abandon all the ways of life that I have hitherto adopted.


Of course I should have thought of this before I accepted you; and I did think of it.


I made up my mind that, as I truly loved you, I would risk the change;--that I would risk it for your sake and for mine, hoping that I might add something to your happiness, and that I might secure my own.

I made up my mind that, as I truly loved you, I would risk the change for your sake and for mine, hoping that I might add something to your happiness, and that I might secure my own.


Dear John, do not suppose that I despair that it may be so; but, indeed, you must not hurry me.

Dear John, do not think that I despair that it may be so; but, indeed, you must not hurry me.


I must tune myself to the change that I have to make.


What if I should wake some morning after six months living with you, and tell you that the quiet of your home was making me mad?


You must not ask me again till the winter shall have passed away.


If in the meantime I shall find that I have been wrong, I will humbly confess that I have wronged you, and ask you to forgive me.

If in the meantime I shall find that I have been wrong, I will humbly confess it, and ask you to forgive me.


If the delay which I now purpose is so contrary to your own plans as to make your marriage, under such circumstances, not that which you had expected, I know that you are free to tell me so, and to say that our engagement shall be over.

: if a delay is so contrary to your own plans as to make your marriage not that which you had expected, you are free to tell me so, and to say that our engagement shall be over.


I am well aware that I can have no right to bind you to a marriage at one period which you had only contemplated as to take place at another period.


I think I may promise that I will obey any wish you may express in anything,--except in that one thing which you urged in your last letter.

I will obey your wishes in anything - except in that one thing which you urged in your letter.


Kate is going down to Yarmouth with Mrs. Greenow, and I shall see no more of her probably till next year, as she will be due in Westmoreland after that.

Kate is going down to Yarmouth with Mrs. Greenow, and I shall probably see no more of her till next year, as she will be in Westmorland after that.


George left me at the door when he brought me home, and declared that he intended to vanish out of London.

George left me at the door when he brought me home, and declared that he intended to leave London.


Whether in town or out, he is never to be seen at this period of the year.


Papa offers to go to Ramsgate for a fortnight, but he looks so wretched when he makes the offer, that I shall not have the heart to hold him to it.

Papa offers to go to Ramsgate for a fortnight, but he looks so wretched when he makes the offer that I shall not have the heart to hold him to it.


Lady Macleod very much wants me to go to Cheltenham.


I very much want not to go, simply because I can never agree with her about anything; but it will probably end in my going there for a week or two.

I very much want not to go; but it will probably end in my going there for a week or two.


Over and beyond that, I have no prospects before Christmas which are not purely domestic.


There is a project that we shall all eat our Christmas dinner at Vavasor Hall,--of course not including George,--but this project is quite in the clouds, and, as far as I am concerned, will remain there.

There is a project that we shall all eat our Christmas dinner at Vavasor Hall - not including George of course - but this project is quite in the clouds, and, as far as I am concerned, will remain there.


Dear John, let me hear that this letter does not make you unhappy.


At Nethercoats, the post was brought in at breakfast-time, and Mr. Grey was sitting with his tea and eggs before him, when he read Alice's letter.


He read it twice before he began to think what he would do in regard to it, and then referred to one or two others which he had received from Switzerland,--reading them also very carefully.

He read it twice, and then carefully referred to one or two others which he had received from Switzerland.


After that, he took up the slouch hat which he had been wearing in the garden before he was called to his breakfast, and, with the letters in his hand, sauntered down among the shrubs and lawns.

After that, with the letters in his hand, he walked out into his garden.


He knew, he thought he knew, that there was more in Alice's mind than a mere wish for delay.

He thought that there was more in Alice's mind than a mere wish for delay.


There was more in it than that hesitation to take at once a step which she really desired to take, if not now, then after some short interval.


He felt that she was unhappy, and unhappy because she distrusted the results of her marriage; but it never for a moment occurred to him that, therefore, the engagement between them should be broken.

He felt that she was unhappy because she distrusted the results of her marriage; but it never for a moment occurred to him that therefore the engagement should be broken.


In the first place he loved her too well to allow of his admitting such an idea without terrible sorrow to himself.

In the first place he loved her too well.


He was a constant, firm man, somewhat reserved, and unwilling to make new acquaintances, and, therefore, specially unwilling to break away from those which he had made.

He was a constant, firm man, somewhat reserved, and unwilling to make new acquaintances, and, therefore, especially unwilling to break away from those which he had made.


Undoubtedly, had he satisfied himself that Alice's happiness demanded such a sacrifice of himself, he would have made it, and made it without a word of complaint.

Breaking the engagement would have caused him great unhappiness. If he felt that that Alice's happiness demanded it, he would have made the sacrifice without a word of complaint,


The blow would not have prostrated him, but the bruise would have remained on his heart, indelible, not to be healed but by death.

although the bruise would have remained on his heart, indelible but unseen by others.


He would have submitted, and no man would have seen that he had been injured.


But it did not once occur to him that such a proceeding on his part would be beneficial to Alice.

But it did not occur to him that his breaking the engagement could be beneficial to Alice.


Without being aware of it, he reckoned himself to be the nobler creature of the two, and now thought of her as of one wounded, and wanting a cure.

He thought of her as of one wounded, and wanting a cure.


Some weakness had fallen on her, and strength must be given to her from another. He assumed himself to be the stronger.


He did not in the least doubt her love, but he knew that she had been associated, for a few weeks past, with two persons whose daily conversation would be prone to weaken the tone of her mind.

He did not doubt her love, but he knew that she had associated for the last few weeks with two people whose daily conversation would tend to weaken the tone of her mind.


He no more thought of giving her up than a man thinks of having his leg cut off because he has sprained his sinews.


He would go up to town and see her, and would not even yet abandon all hope that she might be found sitting at his board when Christmas should come.


By that day's post he wrote a short note to her.


"Dearest Alice," he said, "I have resolved to go to London at once.

Dearest Alice.
I have resolved to go to London at once.


I will be with you in the evening at eight, the day after to-morrow.

I will be with you at eight in the evening, the day after tomorrow.


There was no more in the letter than that.


"And now," she said, when she received it, "I must dare to tell him the whole truth."


Alice Vavasor, when she declared to herself that she must tell her lover the whole truth, was expressing to herself her intention of putting an end to her engagement with Mr. Grey.

Alice Vavasor intended to end her engagement with Mr. Grey.


She was acknowledging that that which had to be told was not compatible with the love and perfect faith which she owed to the man who was her affianced husband.


She did not intend to tell him that she had been false in her love to him.

She had not been false in her love to him.


It was not that her heart had again veered itself round and given itself to that wild cousin of hers.

It was not that her heart had veered round and given itself to her wild cousin George.