I could not speak--I wanted to kill--it was as strong as thirst--and then directly--I felt beforehand I had done something dreadful, unalterable--that would make me like an evil spirit.

I wanted to kill - it was as strong as thirst - and then directly - I felt beforehand I had done something unalterable - that would make me like an evil spirit.


She was silent a moment or two, as if her memory had lost itself in a web where each mesh drew all the rest.


"It had all been in my mind when I first spoke to you--when we were at the Abbey.

"It had been in my mind when I first spoke to you at the Abbey.


It was the only thing I did toward carrying out my thoughts.


They went about over everything; but they all remained like dreadful dreams--all but one.

They remained like dreadful dreams - all but one.


I did one act--and I never undid it--it is there still--as long ago as when we were at Ryelands.

I did one act - and I never undid it - when we were at Ryelands.


There it was--something my fingers longed for among the beautiful toys in the cabinet in my boudoir--small and sharp like a long willow leaf in a silver sheath.

There was something in the cabinet in my boudoir - small and sharp like a long willow leaf in a silver sheath.


I locked it in the drawer of my dressing-case.


I was continually haunted with it and how I should use it.


I fancied myself putting it under my pillow.


I dared not unlock the drawer: it had a key all to itself; and not long ago, when we were in the yacht, I dropped the key into the deep water.

I dared not unlock the drawer: it had a key, and when we were in the yacht, I dropped the key into the deep water, to deliver myself.


It was my wish to drop it and deliver myself.


After that I began to think how I could open the drawer without the key: and when I found we were to stay at Genoa, it came into my mind that I could get it opened privately at the hotel.


But then, when we were going up the stairs, I met you; and I thought I should talk to you alone and tell you this--everything I could not tell you in town; and then I was forced to go out in the boat."

but when I met you in Genoa, I thought I would talk to you and tell you this - everything I could not tell you in town; and then I was forced to go out in the boat."


A sob had for the first time risen with the last words, and she sank back in her chair.

A sob rose, and she sank back in her chair.


The memory of that acute disappointment seemed for the moment to efface what had come since.


Deronda did not look at her, but he said, insistently,


"And it has all remained in your imagination.


To the last the evil temptation has been resisted?"


She pressed her handkerchief against them and sat upright.


She was summoning her resolution; and again, leaning a little toward Deronda's ear, she began in a whisper,

, summoning her resolution; and began again in a whisper-


"No, no; I will tell you everything as God knows it.


I will tell you no falsehood; I will tell you the exact truth.


I used to think I could never be wicked.


I thought of wicked people as if they were a long way off me.

I thought of wicked people as if they were a long way off from me.


And everything has been a punishment to me--all the things I used to wish for--it is as if they had been made red-hot.

And everything has been a punishment - all the things I used to wish for - as if they were red-hot.


The very daylight has often been a punishment to me.


Because--you know--I ought not to have married.


I meant to get pleasure for myself, and it all turned to misery.


I wanted to make my gain out of another's loss--you remember?--it was like roulette--and the money burned into me.

I wanted to make my gain out of another's loss - like roulette - and the money burned into me.


It was as if I had prayed that another should lose and I should win.


And I had won, I knew it all--I knew I was guilty.


When we were on the sea, and I lay awake at night in the cabin, I sometimes felt that everything I had done lay open without excuse--nothing was hidden--how could anything be known to me only?--it was not my own knowledge, it was God's that had entered into me, and even the stillness--everything held a punishment for me--everything but you.

When we were on the sea, and I lay awake at night, I sometimes felt that everything I had done lay open without excuse - everything held a punishment for me - everything but you.


I always thought that you would not want me to be punished--you would have tried and helped me to be better.

I thought that you would not want me punished - you would have helped me to be better.


You will not change--you will not want to punish me now?"


This long wandering with the conscious-stricken one over her past was difficult to bear, but he dared not again urge her with a question.

This long wandering over her past was difficult to bear, but he dared not again urge her with a question.


He must let her mind follow its own need.


She unconsciously left intervals in her retrospect, not clearly distinguishing between what she said and what she had only an inward vision of.


Her next words came after such an interval.


"That all made it so hard when I was forced to go in the boat.

"That made it so hard when I was forced to go in the boat.


Because when I saw you it was an unexpected joy, and I thought I could tell you everything--about the locked-up drawer and what I had not told you before.


And if I had told you, and knew it was in your mind, it would have less power over me.

, and then it would have less power over me.


For after all my struggles and my crying, the hatred and rage, the temptation that frightened me, the longing, the thirst for what I dreaded, always came back.

For after all my struggles and my crying, the hatred and the temptation and the thirst for what I dreaded, always came back.


And that disappointment--when I was quite shut out from speaking to you, and was driven to go in the boat--brought all the evil back, as if I had been locked in a prison with it and no escape.

And that disappointment - when I had to go in the boat - brought the evil back. There was no escape.


Oh, it seems so long ago now since I stepped into that boat!


I could have given up everything in that moment, to have the forked lightning for a weapon to strike him dead."

I could have given up everything in that moment, for lightning to strike him dead."


Some of the compressed fierceness that she was recalling seemed to find its way into her undertoned utterance.


After a little silence she said, with agitated hurry,


"If he were here again, what should I do?


I cannot wish him here--and yet I cannot bear his dead face.

I cannot wish him here - and yet I cannot bear his dead face.


I ought to have gone away--gone and wandered like a beggar rather than stay to feel like a fiend.

I ought to have gone away and wandered like a beggar rather than stay.


But turn where I would there was something I could not bear.


Sometimes I thought he would kill _me_ if I resisted his will.

Sometimes I thought he would kill me if I resisted his will.


But now--his dead face is there, and I cannot bear it."

But now - his dead face is there, and I cannot bear it."


Suddenly loosing Deronda's hand, she started up, stretching her arms to their full length upward, and said with a sort of moan,

Suddenly loosing Deronda's hand, she started up, stretching out her arms, and said with a moan-


Die--die--you are forsaken--go down, go down into darkness.

Die, die - you are forsaken - go down, go down into darkness.


Forsaken--no pity--_I_ shall be forsaken."


She sank in her chair again and broke into sobs.


Even Deronda had no place in her consciousness at that moment.


Instead of finding, as he had imagined, that his late experience had dulled his susceptibility to fresh emotion, it seemed that the lot of this young creature, whose swift travel from her bright rash girlhood into this agony of remorse he had had to behold in helplessness, pierced him the deeper because it came close upon another sad revelation of spiritual conflict: he was in one of those moments when the very anguish of passionate pity makes us ready to choose that we will know pleasure no more, and live only for the stricken and afflicted.

This young creature's agony of remorse pierced him with passionate pity.


He had risen from his seat while he watched that terrible outburst--which seemed the more awful to him because, even in this supreme agitation, she kept the suppressed voice of one who confesses in secret.


At last he felt impelled to turn his back toward her and walk to a distance.


Her mind had opened to the sense that he had gone away from her.


When Deronda turned round to approach her again, he saw her face bent toward him, her eyes dilated, her lips parted.

When Deronda turned round, he saw her eyes were dilated, her lips parted,


She was an image of timid forlorn beseeching--too timid to entreat in words while he kept himself aloof from her.

in an image of forlorn beseeching - too timid to entreat in words.


But his eyes met hers sorrowfully--met hers for the first time fully since she had said, "You know I am a guilty woman," and that full glance in its intense mournfulness seemed to say, "I know it, but I shall all the less forsake you."

But his eyes met hers sorrowfully, and seemed to say, "I know you are guilty, but I shall not forsake you."


He sat down by her side again in the same attitude--without turning his face toward her and without again taking her hand.


Once more Gwendolen was pierced, as she had been by his face of sorrow at the Abbey, with a compunction less egoistic than that which urged her to confess, and she said, in a tone of loving regret,

Gwendolen was pierced with compunction, and she said, in a tone of loving regret-


Deronda gave an indistinct "Oh," just shrinking together and changing his attitude a little.


Then he had gathered resolution enough to say clearly, "There is no question of being happy or unhappy.

Then, gathering resolution, he said, "There is no question of being happy or unhappy.


What I most desire at this moment is what will most help you.

What I most desire is what will most help you.


Tell me all you feel it a relief to tell."


Devoted as these words were, they widened his spiritual distance from her, and she felt it more difficult to speak: she had a vague need of getting nearer to that compassion which seemed to be regarding her from a halo of superiority, and the need turned into an impulse to humble herself more.

Devoted as these words were, they widened his spiritual distance from her, and made it more difficult for her to speak: she felt an impulse to humble herself before him.


She was ready to throw herself on her knees before him; but no--her wonderfully mixed consciousness held checks on that impulse, and she was kept silent and motionless by the pressure of opposing needs.


Shall I go away, and come again whenever you wish it?"


"No, no," said Gwendolen--the dread of his leaving her bringing back her power of speech.

"No, no," said Gwendolen, the dread of his leaving her bringing back her power of speech.


She went on with her low-toned eagerness, "I want to tell you what it was that came over me in that boat.

"I want to tell you what came over me in that boat.


I was full of rage at being obliged to go--full of rage--and I could do nothing but sit there like a galley slave.

I was full of rage - and I could do nothing but sit there like a galley slave.


And then we got away--out of the port--into the deep--and everything was still--and we never looked at each other, only he spoke to order me--and the very light about me seemed to hold me a prisoner and force me to sit as I did.

And then we went out of the port - into the deep - and everything was still - he only spoke to order me - and the very light about me seemed to hold me prisoner.


It came over me that when I was a child I used to fancy sailing away into a world where people were not forced to live with any one they did not like--I did not like my father-in-law to come home.

When I was a child I used to fancy sailing away into a world where there would be nobody I did not like, such as my step-father.


And now, I thought, just the opposite had come to me.

And now just the opposite had come to me.


I had stepped into a boat, and my life was a sailing and sailing away--gliding on and no help--always into solitude with _him_, away from deliverance.

I had stepped into a boat, and my life was sailing away into solitude with him, away from deliverance.


And because I felt more helpless than ever, my thoughts went out over worse things--I longed for worse things--I had cruel wishes--I fancied impossible ways of--I did not want to die myself; I was afraid of our being drowned together.

And because I felt more helpless than ever, I had cruel wishes - I fancied impossible ways of - I did not want to die myself; I was afraid of our being drowned together.


If it had been any use I should have prayed--I should have prayed that something might befall him.

If it had been any use, I should have prayed that something might befall him


I should have prayed that he might sink out of my sight and leave me alone.

; that he might sink out of my sight and leave me alone.


I knew no way of killing him there, but I did, I did kill him in my thoughts."


She sank into silence for a minute, submerged by the weight of memory which no words could represent.

She sank into silence for a minute, submerged by the weight of memory.


"But yet, all the while I felt that I was getting more wicked.

"But all the while I felt that I was getting more wicked.


And what had been with me so much, came to me just then--what you once said--about dreading to increase my wrong-doing and my remorse--I should hope for nothing then.

And it came to me just then - what you once said - about dreading to increase my wrong-doing and my remorse.


It was all like a writing of fire within me.

It was like a writing of fire within me.


Getting wicked was misery--being shut out forever from knowing what you--what better lives were.

Getting wicked was misery - being shut out forever from better lives.


That had always been coming back to me then--but yet with a despair--a feeling that it was no use--evil wishes were too strong.

I felt despair that it was no use - evil wishes were too strong.


I remember then letting go the tiller and saying 'God help me!'


But then I was forced to take it again and go on; and the evil longings, the evil prayers came again and blotted everything else dim, till, in the midst of them--I don't know how it was--he was turning the sail--there was a gust--he was struck--I know nothing--I only know that I saw my wish outside me."

But then I was forced to take it again and go on; and the evil prayers came again and blotted out everything else, till, in the midst of them - I don't know how it was - he was turning the sail - there was a gust - he was struck - I know nothing - I only know that I saw my wish outside me."


She began to speak more hurriedly, and in more of a whisper.


"I saw him sink, and my heart gave a leap as if it were going out of me.

"I saw him sink, and my heart gave a leap.


It was long enough for me to be glad, and yet to think it was no use--he would come up again.

It was long enough for me to be glad, and yet to think he would come up again.


And he _was_ come--farther off--the boat had moved.

And he did come up - farther off - the boat had moved.


he called out in a voice--not his own--I hear it now--and I stooped for the rope--I felt I must--I felt sure he could swim, and he would come back whether or not, and I dreaded him.

he called out, in a voice not his own - I hear it now - and I stooped for the rope - I felt I must - I felt sure he could swim, and he would come back whether or not, and I dreaded him.


That was in my mind--he would come back.


But he was gone down again, and I had the rope in my hand--no, there he was again--his face above the water--and he cried again--and I held my hand, and my heart said, 'Die!'

But he was gone down again, and I had the rope in my hand - no, there he was again - his face above the water - and he cried again - and my heart said, 'Die!'


--and he sank; and I felt 'It is done--I am wicked, I am lost!--and I had the rope in my hand--I don't know what I thought--I was leaping away from myself--I would have saved him then.

- and he sank; and I felt 'I am wicked, I am lost! - and I had the rope in my hand - I don't know what I thought - I was leaping away from myself - I would have saved him then.


I was leaping from my crime, and there it was--close to me as I fell--there was the dead face--dead, dead.

I was leaping from my crime, and there it was - close to me as I fell - there was the dead face - dead, dead.


She sank back in her chair, exhausted with the agitation of memory and speech.


Deronda felt the burden on his spirit less heavy than the foregoing dread.

Deronda felt the burden on his spirit lighten.


The word "guilty" had held a possibility of interpretations worse than the fact; and Gwendolen's confession, for the very reason that her conscience made her dwell on the determining power of her evil thoughts, convinced him the more that there had been throughout a counterbalancing struggle of her better will.

The word "guilty" had held possibilities worse than the fact; and Gwendolen's confession convinced him that there had been throughout a counterbalancing struggle of her better will.


It seemed almost certain that her murderous thought had had no outward effect--that, quite apart from it, the death was inevitable.

It seemed almost certain that her murderous thought had had no outward effect - that, quite apart from it, the death was inevitable.


Still, a question as to the outward effectiveness of a criminal desire dominant enough to impel even a momentary act, cannot alter our judgment of the desire; and Deronda shrank from putting that question forward in the first instance.


He held it likely that Gwendolen's remorse aggravated her inward guilt, and that she gave the character of decisive action to what had been an inappreciably instantaneous glance of desire.

He held it likely that Gwendolen's remorse aggravated her inward guilt, and that she gave the character of decisive action to what had been an instantaneous desire.


But her remorse was the precious sign of a recoverable nature; it was the culmination of that self-disapproval which had been the awakening of a new life within her; it marked her off from the criminals whose only regret is failure in securing their evil wish.

But her remorse was the precious sign of a recoverable nature, and the awakening of a new life within her; it marked her off from the criminals whose only regret is failure in securing their evil wish.


Deronda could not utter one word to diminish that sacred aversion to her worst self--that thorn-pressure which must come with the crowning of the sorrowful better, suffering because of the worse.

Deronda could not utter one word to diminish that sacred aversion to her worst self.


All this mingled thought and feeling kept him silent; speech was too momentous to be ventured on rashly.

All this mingled thought and feeling kept him silent.


There were no words of comfort that did not carry some sacrilege.


If he had opened his lips to speak, he could only have echoed, "It can never be altered--it remains unaltered, to alter other things."


But he was silent and motionless--he did not know how long--before he turned to look at her, and saw her sunk back with closed eyes, like a lost, weary, storm-beaten white doe, unable to rise and pursue its unguided way.

He did not know how long it was before he turned to look at her, and saw her sunk back with closed eyes, like a lost, weary, storm-beaten white doe.


The movement touched her consciousness, and she opened her eyes with a slight quivering that seemed like fear.


And may I see you again this evening--to-morrow--when you have had some rest?

And may I see you again when you have rested?


The tears came, and she could not answer except by a slight movement of the head.


Deronda rang for attendance, spoke urgently of the necessity that she should be got to rest, and then left her.

Deronda urged her again to rest, and left her.


Grandcourt having made up his mind to marry Miss Harleth, showed a power of adapting means to ends.

Grandcourt, having made up his mind to marry Miss Harleth,


During the next fortnight there was hardly a day on which by some arrangement or other he did not see her, or prove by emphatic attentions that she occupied his thoughts.

let hardly a day go by in the next fortnight without seeing her by some arrangement or other.


His cousin, Mrs. Torrington, was now doing the honors of his house, so that Mrs. Davilow and Gwendolen could be invited to a large party at Diplow in which there were many witnesses how the host distinguished the dowerless beauty, and showed no solicitude about the heiress.

Mrs. Davilow and Gwendolen were invited to a large party at Diplow where many witnessed how the host distinguished the dowerless beauty, and showed no care for the heiress.


The world--I mean Mr. Gascoigne and all the families worth speaking of within visiting distance of Pennicote--felt an assurance on the subject which in the rector's mind converted itself into a resolution to do his duty by his niece and see that the settlements were adequate.


Indeed the wonder to him and Mrs. Davilow was that the offer for which so many suitable occasions presented themselves had not been already made; and in this wonder Grandcourt himself was not without a share.

Indeed the wonder to Mr. Gascoigne and Mrs. Davilow was that Grandcourt's offer had not been already made; and in this wonder Grandcourt had a share himself.


When he had told his resolution to Lush he had thought that the affair would be concluded more quickly, and to his own surprise he had repeatedly promised himself in a morning that he would to-day give Gwendolen the opportunity of accepting him, and had found in the evening that the necessary formality was still unaccomplished.

When he had told his resolution to Lush he had thought that the affair would be concluded quickly, and to his own surprise he had repeatedly promised himself in a morning that he would today give Gwendolen the opportunity of accepting him, and found in the evening that it was still unaccomplished.


This remarkable fact served to heighten his determination on another day.


He had never admitted to himself that Gwendolen might refuse him, but--heaven help us all!--we are often unable to act on our certainties; our objection to a contrary issue (were it possible) is so strong that it rises like a spectral illusion between us and our certainty; we are rationally sure that the blind worm can not bite us mortally, but it would be so intolerable to be bitten, and the creature has a biting look--we decline to handle it.

He had never admitted to himself that Gwendolen might refuse him, but we are often unable to act on our assumptions; our objection to a contrary result is so strong that it rises like a spectre between us and our certainty.


He had asked leave to have a beautiful horse of his brought for Gwendolen to ride.

He had arranged to have a beautiful horse of his brought for Gwendolen to ride.


Mrs. Davilow was to accompany her in the carriage, and they were to go to Diplow to lunch, Grandcourt conducting them.

Mrs. Davilow was to accompany her in the carriage, and they were to go to Diplow for lunch.


It was a fine mid-harvest time, not too warm for a noonday ride of five miles to be delightful; the poppies glowed on the borders of the fields, there was enough breeze to move gently like a social spirit among the ears of uncut corn, and to wing the shadow of a cloud across the soft gray downs; here the sheaves were standing, there the horses were straining their muscles under the last load from a wide space of stubble, but everywhere the green pasture made a broader setting for the corn-fields, and the cattle took their rest under wide branches.

It was a fine mid-harvest time; the poppies glowed on the borders of the fields, the breeze moved gently among the ears of uncut corn, and winged the shadow of a cloud across the soft grey downs. The green pasture and the corn-fields made a setting of peace and permanence, where the cattle took their rest under wide branches.


The road lay through a bit of country where the dairy-farms looked much as they did in the days of our forefathers--where peace and permanence seemed to find a home away from the busy change that sent the railway train flying in the distance.


But the spirit of peace and permanence did not penetrate poor Mrs. Davilow's mind so as to overcome her habit of uneasy foreboding.

But the spirit of peace did not overcome Mrs. Davilow's uneasy foreboding.


Gwendolen and Grandcourt cantering in front of her, and then slackening their pace to a conversational walk till the carriage came up with them again, made a gratifying sight; but it served chiefly to keep up the conflict of hopes and fears about her daughter's lot.

Gwendolen and Grandcourt riding together in front of her made a gratifying sight; but it served chiefly to keep up the conflict of hopes and fears about her daughter's lot.


Here was an irresistible opportunity for a lover to speak and put an end to all uncertainties, and Mrs. Davilow could only hope with trembling that Gwendolen's decision would be favorable.

Here was an irresistible opportunity for a lover to speak, and Mrs. Davilow could only hope with trembling that Gwendolen would be favourable.


Certainly if Rex's love had been repugnant to her, Mr. Grandcourt had the advantage of being in complete contrast with Rex; and that he had produced some quite novel impression on her seemed evident in her marked abstinence from satirical observations, nay, her total silence about his characteristics, a silence which Mrs. Davilow did not dare to break.

That Mr. Grandcourt had produced some quite novel impression on her daughter was shown by her marked abstinence from satirical observations, nay, her total silence about him, a silence which Mrs. Davilow did not dare to break.


--was a question that inevitably arose in the mother's mind.


"Well, perhaps as happy as she would be with any one else--or as most other women are"--was the answer with which she tried to quiet herself; for she could not imagine Gwendolen under the influence of any feeling which would make her satisfied in what we traditionally call "mean circumstances."

"Well, perhaps as happy as she would be with anyone, or as most women are," was the answer with which she tried to quiet herself.


Grandcourt's own thought was looking in the same direction: he wanted to have done with the uncertainty that belonged to his not having spoken.

Grandcourt too wanted an end to the uncertainty that came from his not having spoken.


As to any further uncertainty--well, it was something without any reasonable basis, some quality in the air which acted as an irritant to his wishes.

As to any uncertainty about her answer - well, it was without any reasonable basis.


Gwendolen enjoyed the riding, but her pleasure did not break forth in girlish unpremeditated chat and laughter as it did on that morning with Rex.

Gwendolen enjoyed the riding, but her pleasure did not break forth in chat and laughter as it had with Rex.


She spoke a little, and even laughed, but with a lightness as of a far-off echo: for her too there was some peculiar quality in the air--not, she was sure, any subjugation of her will by Mr. Grandcourt, and the splendid prospects he meant to offer her; for Gwendolen desired every one, that dignified gentleman himself included, to understand that she was going to do just as she liked, and that they had better not calculate on her pleasing them.

She spoke a little, and even laughed, but with a lightness as of a far-off echo: for her too there was some peculiar quality in the air - not due to any subjugation of her will by Mr. Grandcourt, for Gwendolen desired everyone to understand that she was going to do just as she liked.


If she chose to take this husband, she would have him know that she was not going to renounce her freedom, or according to her favorite formula, "not going to do as other women did."

If she chose to take this husband, she was not going to renounce her freedom: "she would not do as other women did."


Grandcourt's speeches this morning were, as usual, all of that brief sort which never fails to make a conversational figure when the speaker is held important in his circle.

Grandcourt's speeches this morning were of his usual brief sort,


Stopping so soon, they give signs of a suppressed and formidable ability so say more, and have also the meritorious quality of allowing lengthiness to others.

always giving signs of a suppressed and formidable ability to say more.


he said, after they had entered the park and were slacking from a canter to a walk.

he said, after they had entered the park.


I should like to have a leap with him, if it would not frighten mamma.


There was a good wide channel we passed five minutes ago.


I should like to have a gallop back and take it."


Mamma is so timid--if she saw me it might make her ill."


"No--indeed--you are very kind--but it would alarm her too much.


I dare take any leap when she is not by; but I do it and don't tell her about it."

I dare take any leap when she is not near; but I do it and don't tell her about it."


"We can let the carriage pass and then set off."


"No, no, pray don't think of it any more: I spoke quite randomly," said Gwendolen; she began to feel a new objection to carrying out her own proposition.


"But Mrs. Davilow knows I shall take care of you."


"Yes, but she would think of you as having to take care of my broken neck."


There was a considerable pause before Grandcourt said, looking toward her, "I should like to have the right always to take care of you."


Gwendolen did not turn her eyes on him; it seemed to her a long while that she was first blushing, and then turning pale, but to Grandcourt's rate of judgment she answered soon enough, with the lightest flute-tone and a careless movement of the head, "Oh, I am not sure that I want to be taken care of: if I chose to risk breaking my neck, I should like to be at liberty to do it."

Gwendolen did not turn her eyes on him; it seemed to her a long while that she was first blushing, and then turning pale, before she answered, with the lightest flute-tone and a careless movement of the head, "Oh, I am not sure that I want to be taken care of: if I chose to risk breaking my neck, I should like to be free to do it."


She checked her horse as she spoke, and turned in her saddle, looking toward the advancing carriage.

She slowed her horse as she spoke, looking toward the advancing carriage.


Her eyes swept across Grandcourt as she made this movement, but there was no language in them to correct the carelessness of her reply.


At that very moment she was aware that she was risking something--not her neck, but the possibility of finally checking Grandcourt's advances, and she did not feel contented with the possibility.

She was aware that she was risking something - not her neck, but the possibility of finally stopping Grandcourt's advances, and she did not feel contented with the possibility.


thought Grandcourt, as he too checked his horse.


He was not a wordy thinker, and this explosive phrase stood for mixed impressions which eloquent interpreters might have expanded into some sentences full of an irritated sense that he was being mystified, and a determination that this girl should not make a fool of him.

He was not a wordy thinker, and this explosive phrase stood for mixed impressions: that he was being mystified, and was determined that this girl should not make a fool of him.


Did she want him to throw himself at her feet and declare that he was dying for her?


It was not by that gate that she could enter on the privileges he could give her.


Or did she expect him to write his proposals?


He would not make his offer in any way that could place him definitely in the position of being rejected.


But as to her accepting him, she had done it already in accepting his marked attentions: and anything which happened to break them off would be understood to her disadvantage.

But as to her accepting him, she had done it already in accepting his marked attentions.


However, the carriage came up, and no further _tete--tete_ could well occur before their arrival at the house, where there was abundant company, to whom Gwendolen, clad in riding-dress, with her hat laid aside, clad also in the repute of being chosen by Mr. Grandcourt, was naturally a centre of observation; and since the objectionable Mr. Lush was not there to look at her, this stimulus of admiring attention heightened her spirits, and dispersed, for the time, the uneasy consciousness of divided impulses which threatened her with repentance of her own acts.

However, the carriage came up, and no further tte--tte could occur before their arrival at the house, where there was abundant company, to whom Gwendolen was naturally a centre of observation. Since the objectionable Mr. Lush was not there to look at her, this admiring attention heightened her spirits, and dispersed some of her uneasiness at her own indecision.


Whether Grandcourt had been offended or not there was no judging: his manners were unchanged, but Gwendolen's acuteness had not gone deeper than to discern that his manners were no clue for her, and because these were unchanged she was not the less afraid of him.

Grandcourt's manners were unchanged, but Gwendolen had learnt that his manners were no clue for her, and she was not the less afraid of him.


She had not been at Diplow before except to dine; and since certain points of view from the windows and the garden were worth showing, Lady Flora Hollis proposed after luncheon, when some of the guests had dispersed, and the sun was sloping toward four o'clock, that the remaining party should make a little exploration.

She had not been at Diplow before except to dine; and since certain views from the windows and the garden were worth showing, it was proposed after luncheon that the party should make a little exploration.


Here came frequent opportunities when Grandcourt might have retained Gwendolen apart, and have spoken to her unheard.

Here came frequent opportunities when Grandcourt might have kept Gwendolen apart, and have spoken to her unheard.


He indeed spoke to no one else, but what he said was nothing more eager or intimate than it had been in their first interview.

He indeed spoke to no one else, but his words were no more eager or intimate than in their first interview.


He looked at her not less than usual; and some of her defiant spirit having come back, she looked full at him in return, not caring--rather preferring--that his eyes had no expression in them.

He looked at her as much as usual; and some of her defiance returning, she looked full at him, not caring - rather preferring - that his eyes had no expression in them.


But at last it seemed as if he entertained some contrivance.

But at last it seemed he planned to speak.


After they had nearly made the tour of the grounds, the whole party stopped by the pool to be amused with Fetch's accomplishment of bringing a water lily to the bank like Cowper's spaniel Beau, and having been disappointed in his first attempt insisted on his trying again.

After the tour of the grounds, the whole party stopped by the pool to be amused by Fetch's bringing a water lily to the bank.


Here Grandcourt, who stood with Gwendolen outside the group, turned deliberately, and fixing his eyes on a knoll planted with American shrubs, and having a winding path up it, said languidly,

Here Grandcourt, who stood with Gwendolen outside the group, turned deliberately, and fixing his eyes on a knoll with a winding path up it, said languidly-


"Oh, certainly--since we are exploring," said Gwendolen.

"Oh, certainly - since we are exploring," said Gwendolen.


The path was too narrow for him to offer his arm, and they walked up in silence.


When they were on the bit of platform at the summit, Grandcourt said,

When they were at the summit, Grandcourt said-


"There is nothing to be seen here: the thing was not worth climbing."


How was it that Gwendolen did not laugh?


She was perfectly silent, holding up the folds of her robe like a statue, and giving a harder grasp to the handle of her whip, which she had snatched up automatically with her hat when they had first set off.

She was perfectly silent, holding up her robe like a statue, and grasping the handle of her whip, which she had snatched up automatically when they had first set off.


"Different places are agreeable in their way.


On the whole, I think, I prefer places that are open and cheerful.

"I think I prefer places that are open and cheerful.


"Your place of Offendene is too sombre....".

"Your place at Offendene is too sombre."


"You will not remain there long, I hope."


"It is not to be supposed that _you_ will always live there, though Mrs. Davilow may."

"It is not to be supposed that you will always live there, though Mrs. Davilow may."


We women can't go in search of adventures--to find out the North-West Passage or the source of the Nile, or to hunt tigers in the East.

We women can't go in search of adventures - to find the North-West Passage or the source of the Nile, or hunt tigers in the East.


We must stay where we grow, or where the gardeners like to transplant us.


We are brought up like the flowers, to look as pretty as we can, and be dull without complaining.

flowers, brought up to look pretty, and be dull without complaining.


That is my notion about the plants; they are often bored, and that is the reason why some of them have got poisonous.

That is my notion about plants; they are often bored, and that is why some of them become poisonous.


Gwendolen had run on rather nervously, lightly whipping the rhododendron bush in front of her.


Most things are bores," said Grandcourt, his mind having been pushed into an easy current, away from its intended track.

Most things are bores," said Grandcourt.


But, after a moment's pause, he continued in his broken, refined drawl,

After a moment's pause, he continued in his refined drawl-


"You, certainly, unless you are obstinately cruel."


"I am not sure that I am not both cruel and obstinate."


Here Gwendolen suddenly turned her head and looked full at Grandcourt, whose eyes she had felt to be upon her throughout their conversation.

Here Gwendolen suddenly turned her head and looked full at Grandcourt.


She was wondering what the effect of looking at him would be on herself rather than on him.

She was wondering what the effect of looking at him would be on herself, rather than on him.


He stood perfectly still, half a yard or more away from her; and it flashed through her mind what a sort of lotus-eater's stupor had begun in him and was taking possession of her.

He stood perfectly still; and it flashed through her mind what a sort of lotos-eater's stupor had begun in him and was taking possession of her.


"Are you as uncertain about yourself as you make others about you?"


"I am quite uncertain about myself; I don't know how uncertain others may be."


"And you wish them to understand that you don't care?"


said Grandcourt, with a touch of new hardness in his tone.

said Grandcourt, with a new hardness in his tone.


"I did not say that," Gwendolen replied, hesitatingly, and turning her eyes away whipped the rhododendron bush again.

"I did not say that," Gwendolen replied hesitatingly, and turning her eyes away whipped the rhododendron bush again.


She wished she were on horseback that she might set off on a canter.


It was impossible to set off running down the knoll.


"You do care, then," said Grandcourt, not more quickly, but with a softened drawl.

"You do care, then," said Grandcourt, with a softened drawl.


said Gwendolen, in a little scream of distress.


She had let it go--what could be more natural in a slight agitation?--and--but this seemed less natural in a gold-handled whip which had been left altogether to itself--it had gone with some force over the immediate shrubs, and had lodged itself in the branches of an azalea half-way down the knoll.

She had let it go - what could be more natural in a slight agitation? - and it had gone with some force over the immediate shrubs, and had lodged itself in some branches half-way down the knoll.


She could run down now, laughing prettily, and Grandcourt was obliged to follow; but she was beforehand with him in rescuing the whip, and continued on her way to the level ground, when she paused and looked at Grandcourt with an exasperating brightness in her glance and a heightened color, as if she had carried a triumph, and these indications were still noticeable to Mrs. Davilow when Gwendolen and Grandcourt joined the rest of the party.

She could run down now, laughing prettily, and Grandcourt was obliged to follow; but rescuing the whip, she continued on her way to level ground, where she paused and looked at him with an exasperating brightness in her glance and a heightened, triumphant colour, which Mrs. Davilow noticed when they rejoined the party.


"It is all coquetting," thought Grandcourt; "the next time I beckon she will come down."


It seemed to him likely that this final beckoning might happen the very next day, when there was to be a picnic archery meeting in Cardell Chase, according to the plan projected on the evening of the ball.

He thought that this final beckoning might happen the very next day, when there was to be a picnic archery meeting in Cardell Chase, according to the plan suggested on the day of the ball.


Even in Gwendolen's mind that result was one of two likelihoods that presented themselves alternately, one of two decisions toward which she was being precipitated, as if they were two sides of a boundary-line, and she did not know on which she should fall.

Gwendolen felt herself being hurried towards two alternative likelihoods; two decisions, like two sides of a boundary-line, and she did not know on which side she should fall.


This subjection to a possible self, a self not to be absolutely predicted about, caused her some astonishment and terror; her favorite key of life--doing as she liked--seemed to fail her, and she could not foresee what at a given moment she might like to do.

This powerlessness to predict her own behaviour caused her some astonishment and terror; her favourite idea of doing as she liked seemed to fail her, and she could not foresee what she might choose to do.


The prospect of marrying Grandcourt really seemed more attractive to her than she had believed beforehand that any marriage could be: the dignities, the luxuries, the power of doing a great deal of what she liked to do, which had now come close to her, and within her choice to secure or to lose, took hold of her nature as if it had been the strong odor of what she had only imagined and longed for before.

The prospect of marrying Grandcourt really seemed attractive to her: the dignities, the luxuries, which had now come within her reach, took hold of her nature.


He seemed as little of a flaw in his fortunes as a lover and husband could possibly be.

He seemed to have as little flaw as a lover and husband could.


Gwendolen wished to mount the chariot and drive the plunging horses herself, with a spouse by her side who would fold his arms and give her his countenance without looking ridiculous.


Certainly, with all her perspicacity, and all the reading which seemed to her mamma dangerously instructive, her judgment was consciously a little at fault before Grandcourt.


He was adorably quiet and free from absurdities--he would be a husband to suit with the best appearance a woman could make.

was adorably quiet and free from absurdities.


He had been everywhere, and seen everything.


_That_ was desirable, and especially gratifying as a preamble to his supreme preference for Gwendolen Harleth.

That was desirable, and a gratifying preamble to his supreme preference for Gwendolen Harleth.


He did not appear to enjoy anything much.


That was not necessary: and the less he had of particular tastes, or desires, the more freedom his wife was likely to have in following hers.

That was not necessary: the less he had of particular desires, the more freedom his wife was likely to have in following hers.


Gwendolen conceived that after marriage she would most probably be able to manage him thoroughly.


How was it that he caused her unusual constraint now?--that she was less daring and playful in her talk with him than with any other admirer she had known?

How was it that he caused her unusual constraint now? - that she was less daring and playful in her talk with him than with any other admirer she had known?


That absence of demonstrativeness which she was glad of, acted as a charm in more senses than one, and was slightly benumbing.

His lack of demonstrativeness acted as a charm in more senses than one, and was slightly benumbing.


Grandcourt after all was formidable--a handsome lizard of a hitherto unknown species, not of the lively, darting kind.

Grandcourt after all was formidable: a handsome lizard of a hitherto unknown species, not the lively, darting kind.


But Gwendolen knew hardly anything about lizards, and ignorance gives one a large range of probabilities.

But Gwendolen knew hardly anything about lizards.


This splendid specimen was probably gentle, suitable as a boudoir pet: what may not a lizard be, if you know nothing to the contrary?


Her acquaintance with Grandcourt was such that no accomplishment suddenly revealed in him would have surprised her.


And he was so little suggestive of drama, that it hardly occurred to her to think with any detail how his life of thirty-six years had been passed: in general, she imagined him always cold and dignified, not likely ever to have committed himself.

It hardly occurred to her to think how his life of thirty-six years had been passed: she imagined him always cold and dignified, not likely ever to have committed himself.


He had hunted the tiger--had he ever been in love or made love?

He had hunted the tiger - had he ever been in love?


The one experience and the other seemed alike remote in Gwendolen's fancy from the Mr. Grandcourt who had come to Diplow in order apparently to make a chief epoch in her destiny--perhaps by introducing her to that state of marriage which she had resolved to make a state of greater freedom than her girlhood.

Both experiences seemed remote from the Mr. Grandcourt who had come to Diplow in order to change her destiny.


And on the whole she wished to marry him; he suited her purpose; her prevailing, deliberate intention was, to accept him.

On the whole she wished to marry him; he suited her purpose; her prevailing, deliberate intention was to accept him.


But was she going to fulfill her deliberate intention?

But was she going to fulfil her deliberate intention?


She began to be afraid of herself, and to find out a certain difficulty in doing as she liked.


Already her assertion of independence in evading his advances had been carried farther than was necessary, and she was thinking with some anxiety what she might do on the next occasion.

Already her assertion of independence in evading his advances had been carried farther than was necessary, and she was thinking with some anxiety of what she might do on the next occasion.


Seated according to her habit with her back to the horses on their drive homeward, she was completely under the observation of her mamma, who took the excitement and changefulness in the expression of her eyes, her unwonted absence of mind and total silence, as unmistakable signs that something unprecedented had occurred between her and Grandcourt.

On their drive homeward, she was observed by her mamma, who took the excitement in her eyes and her total silence as signs that something had occurred between her and Grandcourt.


Mrs. Davilow's uneasiness determined her to risk some speech on the subject: the Gascoignes were to dine at Offendene, and in what had occurred this morning there might be some reason for consulting the rector; not that she expected him anymore than herself to influence Gwendolen, but that her anxious mind wanted to be disburdened.

Mrs. Davilow's uneasiness determined her to risk a question.


she began, in a tender tone of question.


Gwendolen looked round, and seeming to be roused to the consciousness of her physical self, took off her gloves and then her hat, that the soft breeze might blow on her head.

Gwendolen looked round, roused to consciousness of herself. She took off her gloves and then her hat, so that the soft breeze might blow on her head


They were in a retired bit of the road, where the long afternoon shadows from the bordering trees fell across it and no observers were within sight.


Her eyes continued to meet her mother's, but she did not speak.


"Mr. Grandcourt has been saying something?--Tell me, dear."

"Mr. Grandcourt has been saying something?- Tell me, dear."


The last words were uttered beseechingly.


You ought not to leave me in doubt and anxiety."


"Mamma, dear, please don't be miserable," said Gwendolen, with pettish remonstrance.


said Mrs. Davilow, gathering determination from her alarms.


"No; not at all," said Gwendolen, with some curtness, and a pretty little toss of the head as she put on her hat again.

"No; not at all," said Gwendolen, with a pretty toss of the head.


"About whether you will accept him, then?"


"He _has_ spoken so that you could not misunderstand him?"

"He has spoken so that you could not misunderstand him?"


Mrs. Davilow put this question rather anxiously, and receiving no answer, asked another: "You don't consider that you have discouraged him?"

Mrs. Davilow put this question rather anxiously. "You don't consider that you have discouraged him?"


"I thought you liked him, dear," said Mrs. Davilow, timidly.


There is less to dislike about him than about most men.


Gwendolen so far spoke with a pouting sort of gravity; but suddenly she recovered some of her mischievousness, and her face broke into a smile as she added--"Indeed he has all the qualities that would make a husband tolerable--battlement, veranda, stable, etc., no grins and no glass in his eye."

Gwendolen spoke with gravity; but suddenly added with a smile- "Indeed he has all the qualities that would make a husband tolerable - battlement, veranda, stable, etc., and no glass in his eye."


"Do be serious with me for a moment, dear.


Am I to understand that you mean to accept him?"


"Oh, pray, mamma, leave me to myself," said Gwendolen, with a pettish distress in her voice.

"Oh, pray, mamma, leave me to myself," said Gwendolen, with pettish distress.


When they got home Gwendolen declared that she would not dine.


She was tired, and would come down in the evening after she had taken some rest.

: she was tired, and would come down in the evening to see her uncle.


The probability that her uncle would hear what had passed did not trouble her.


She was convinced that whatever he might say would be on the side of her accepting Grandcourt, and she wished to accept him if she could.


At this moment she would willingly have had weights hung on her own caprice.


Mr. Gascoigne did hear--not Gwendolen's answers repeated verbatim, but a softened generalized account of them.

Mr. Gascoigne heard a softened account of this conversation.


The mother conveyed as vaguely as the keen rector's questions would let her the impression that Gwendolen was in some uncertainty about her own mind, but inclined on the whole to acceptance.

The mother hinted that Gwendolen was in some uncertainty about her own mind, but inclined to acceptance.


The result was that the uncle felt himself called on to interfere; he did not conceive that he should do his duty in witholding direction from his niece in a momentous crisis of this kind.

The result was that the uncle felt himself called on to interfere; his duty was to guide his niece in a momentous crisis of this kind.


Mrs. Davilow ventured a hesitating opinion that perhaps it would be safer to say nothing--Gwendolen was so sensitive (she did not like to say willful).


But the rector's was a firm mind, grasping its first judgments tenaciously and acting on them promptly, whence counter-judgments were no more for him than shadows fleeting across the solid ground to which he adjusted himself.


This match with Grandcourt presented itself to him as a sort of public affair; perhaps there were ways in which it might even strengthen the establishment.


To the rector, whose father (nobody would have suspected it, and nobody was told) had risen to be a provincial corn-dealer, aristocratic heirship resembled regal heirship in excepting its possessor from the ordinary standard of moral judgments, Grandcourt, the almost certain baronet, the probable peer, was to be ranged with public personages, and was a match to be accepted on broad general grounds national and ecclesiastical.

To the rector, aristocratic heirship excused its possessor from ordinary moral standards.


Such public personages, it is true, are often in the nature of giants which an ancient community may have felt pride and safety in possessing, though, regarded privately, these born eminences must often have been inconvenient and even noisome.

Grandcourt, the almost certain baronet, the probable peer, was the sort of public personage an ancient community may feel proud of; though privately these great persons must often be inconvenient and even unpleasant.


But of the future husband personally Mr. Gascoigne was disposed to think the best.

But Mr. Gascoigne was disposed to think the best, and set aside the


Gossip is a sort of smoke that comes from the dirty tobacco-pipes of those who diffuse it: it proves nothing but the bad taste of the smoker.


But if Grandcourt had really made any deeper or more unfortunate experiments in folly than were common in young men of high prospects, he was of an age to have finished them.

If Grandcourt had really made any deeper experiments in folly than were common in young men of high prospects, he was of an age to have finished them.


All accounts can be suitably wound up when a man has not ruined himself, and the expense may be taken as an insurance against future error.


This was the view of practical wisdom; with reference to higher views, repentance had a supreme moral and religious value.


There was every reason to believe that a woman of well-regulated mind would be happy with Grandcourt.


It was no surprise to Gwendolen on coming down to tea to be told that her uncle wished to see her in the dining-room.

When Gwendolen came down to tea, her uncle


He threw aside the paper as she entered and greeted her with his usual kindness.


As his wife had remarked, he always "made much" of Gwendolen, and her importance had risen of late.


"My dear," he said, in a fatherly way, moving a chair for her as he held her hand, "I want to speak to you on a subject which is more momentous than any other with regard to your welfare.

"My dear," he said, in a fatherly way, "I want to speak to you on a momentous subject.


But I shall speak to you with perfect directness: in such matters I consider myself bound to act as your father.

In such matters I consider myself bound to act as your father.


You have always been very kind to me," said Gwendolen, frankly.

You have always been very kind to me," said Gwendolen frankly.


This evening she was willing, if it were possible, to be a little fortified against her troublesome self, and her resistant temper was in abeyance.

This evening she was willing to be fortified against her troublesome self.


The rector's mode of speech always conveyed a thrill of authority, as of a word of command: it seemed to take for granted that there could be no wavering in the audience, and that every one was going to be rationally obedient.

The rector always conveyed authority: he seemed to take for granted that his audience was going to be rationally obedient.


"It is naturally a satisfaction to me that the prospect of a marriage for you--advantageous in the highest degree--has presented itself so early.

"It is naturally a satisfaction to me that the prospect of an advantageous marriage for you has presented itself so early.


I do not know exactly what has passed between you and Mr. Grandcourt, but I presume there can be little doubt, from the way in which he has distinguished you, that he desires to make you his wife."


Gwendolen did not speak immediately, and her uncle said with more emphasis,


"Have you any doubt of that yourself, my dear?"


"I suppose that is what he has been thinking of.


But he may have changed his mind to-morrow," said Gwendolen.

But he may have changed his mind tomorrow," said Gwendolen.


Has he made advances which you have discouraged?"


"I think he meant--he began to make advances--but I did not encourage them.

"I think he meant - he began to make advances - but I did not encourage them."


"Will you confide in me so far as to tell me your reasons?"


"I am not sure that I had any reasons, uncle."


"You are quite capable of reflecting, Gwendolen.


You are aware that this is not a trivial occasion, and it concerns your establishment for life under circumstances which may not occur again.

"You are aware that this is not a trivial occasion, Gwendolen. It concerns your establishment for life under circumstances which may not occur again.


You have a duty here both to yourself and your family.


I wish to understand whether you have any ground for hesitating as to your acceptance of Mr. Grandcourt."

Have you any ground for hesitating as to your acceptance of Mr. Grandcourt?"


Gwendolen spoke rather poutingly, and her uncle grew suspicious.


"Have you heard anything of him which has affected you disagreeably?"


The rector thought it impossible that Gwendolen could have heard the gossip he had heard, but in any case he must endeavor to put all things in the right light for her.

The rector thought it impossible that Gwendolen could be aware of the gossip he had heard, but in any case he must endeavour to put things in the right light for her.


"I have heard nothing about him except that he is a great match," said Gwendolen, with some sauciness; "and that affects me very agreeably."


"Then, my dear Gwendolen, I have nothing further to say than this: you hold your fortune in your own hands--a fortune such as rarely happens to a girl in your circumstances--a fortune in fact which almost takes the question out of the range of mere personal feeling, and makes your acceptance of it a duty.

"Then, my dear Gwendolen, I have nothing further to say than this: you hold your fortune in your own hands - a fortune such as rarely happens to a girl in your circumstances, and which makes your acceptance a duty.


If Providence offers you power and position--especially when unclogged by any conditions that are repugnant to you--your course is one of responsibility, into which caprice must not enter.

Your course is one of responsibility, into which caprice must not enter.


A man does not like to have his attachment trifled with: he may not be at once repelled--these things are matters of individual disposition.


But the trifling may be carried too far.

, but the trifling may be carried too far.


And I must point out to you that in case Mr. Grandcourt were repelled without your having refused him--without your having intended ultimately to refuse him, your situation would be a humiliating and painful one.

And I must point out to you that if Mr. Grandcourt were repelled without your having intended to refuse him, your situation would be a humiliating and painful one."


I, for my part, should regard you with severe disapprobation, as the victim of nothing else than your own coquetry and folly."


Gwendolen became pallid as she listened to this admonitory speech.

Gwendolen became pale as she listened to this


The ideas it raised had the force of sensations.


Her resistant courage would not help her here, because her uncle was not urging her against her own resolve; he was pressing upon her the motives of dread which she already felt; he was making her more conscious of the risks that lay within herself.

warning, which made her more conscious of the risks that lay within herself.


She was silent, and the rector observed that he had produced some strong effect.


"I am aware of that, uncle," said Gwendolen, rising and shaking her head back, as if to rouse herself out of painful passivity.

"I know that, uncle," said Gwendolen, rising.


I know that I must be married some time--before it is too late.

I know that I must be married some time - before it is too late


And I don't see how I could do better than marry Mr. Grandcourt.

; and I don't see how I could do better than marry Mr. Grandcourt.


She felt as if she were reinforcing herself by speaking with this decisiveness to her uncle.


But the rector was a little startled by so bare a version of his own meaning from those young lips.


He wished that in her mind his advice should be taken in an infusion of sentiments proper to a girl, and such as are presupposed in the advice of a clergyman, although he may not consider them always appropriate to be put forward.


He wished his niece parks, carriages, a title--everything that would make this world a pleasant abode; but he wished her not to be cynical--to be, on the contrary, religiously dutiful, and have warm domestic affections.

He wished his niece parks, carriages, and a title, but he also wished her not to be cynical: on the contrary, to be religiously dutiful, with warm domestic affections.


"My dear Gwendolen," he said, rising also, and speaking with benignant gravity, "I trust that you will find in marriage a new fountain of duty and affection.

"My dear Gwendolen," he said with benign gravity, "I trust that you will find in marriage a new fountain of duty and affection.


Marriage is the only true and satisfactory sphere of a woman, and if your marriage with Mr. Grandcourt should be happily decided upon, you will have, probably, an increasing power, both of rank and wealth, which may be used for the benefit of others.

Marriage is the only true and satisfactory sphere of a woman, and if you marry Mr. Grandcourt, you will have an increasing power of rank and wealth, which may be used for the benefit of others.


These considerations are something higher than romance!


You are fitted by natural gifts for a position which, considering your birth and early prospects, could hardly be looked forward to as in the ordinary course of things; and I trust that you will grace it, not only by those personal gifts, but by a good and consistent life."

I trust that you will grace your position, not only by your natural personal gifts, but by a good and consistent life."


"I hope mamma will be the happier," said Gwendolen, in a more cheerful way, lifting her hands backward to her neck and moving toward the door.

"I hope mamma will be happier," said Gwendolen, more cheerfully, moving toward the door.


She wanted to waive those higher considerations.


Mr. Gascoigne felt that he had come to a satisfactory understanding with his niece, and had furthered her happy settlement in life by furthering her engagement to Grandcourt.

Mr. Gascoigne felt that he had come to a satisfactory understanding with his niece.


Meanwhile there was another person to whom the contemplation of that issue had been a motive for some activity, and who believed that he, too, on this particular day had done something toward bringing about a favorable decision in _his_ sense--which happened to be the reverse of the rector's.

Meanwhile there was another person who believed that he, too, had done something toward bringing about a favourable decision in his sense - which happened to be the reverse of the rector's.


Mr. Lush's absence from Diplow during Gwendolen's visit had been due, not to any fear on his part of meeting that supercilious young lady, or of being abashed by her frank dislike, but to an engagement from which he expected important consequences.

Mr. Lush's absence from Diplow during Gwendolen's visit had been due, not to any fear of meeting that supercilious young lady, but to an engagement from which he expected important consequences.


He was gone, in fact, to the Wanchester station to meet a lady, accompanied by a maid and two children, whom he put into a fly, and afterward followed to the hotel of the Golden Keys, in that town.

He was gone, in fact, to the station to meet a lady, with a maid and two children, whom he took to a hotel.


An impressive woman, whom many would turn to look at again in passing; her figure was slim and sufficiently tall, her face rather emaciated, so that its sculpturesque beauty was the more pronounced, her crisp hair perfectly black, and her large, anxious eyes what we call black.

She was an impressive woman, who would turn heads; her figure was slim and tall, her face rather emaciated, so that its sculpturesque beauty was the more pronounced; her crisp hair was perfectly black, as were the large, anxious eyes that looked around uneasily.


Her dress was soberly correct, her age, perhaps, physically more advanced than the number of years would imply, but hardly less than seven-and-thirty.

Her dress was soberly correct, her age about seven-and-thirty.


An uneasy-looking woman: her glance seemed to presuppose that the people and things were going to be unfavorable to her, while she was, nevertheless, ready to meet them with resolution.


The children were lovely--a dark-haired girl of six or more, a fairer boy of five.

The children were lovely - a dark-haired girl of six or more, a fairer boy of five.


When Lush incautiously expressed some surprise at her having brought the children, she said, with a sharp-toned intonation,

When Lush expressed surprise at their presence, she said sharply-


"Did you suppose I should come wandering about here by myself?


"Why should I not bring all four if I liked?"


"Oh, certainly," said Lush, with his usual fluent _nonchalance_.

"Oh, certainly," said Lush, with nonchalance.


He stayed an hour or so in conference with her, and rode back to Diplow in a state of mind that was at once hopeful and busily anxious as to the execution of the little plan on which his hopefulness was based.

He stayed an hour or so in talk with her, and then rode back to Diplow, hopeful as to the execution of his little plan.


Grandcourt's marriage to Gwendolen Harleth would not, he believed, be much of a good to either of them, and it would plainly be fraught with disagreeables to himself.

Grandcourt's marriage to Gwendolen Harleth would not, he believed, be good for either of them, and it would plainly be disagreeable to himself.


But now he felt confident enough to say inwardly, "I will take, nay, I will lay odds that the marriage will never happen."

But now he felt confident enough to lay odds that the marriage would never happen.


"But I shall say no more of this at this time; for this is to be felt and not to be talked of; and they who never touched it with their fingers may secretly perhaps laugh at it in their hearts and be never the wiser."


The Roman Emperor in the legend put to death ten learned Israelites to avenge the sale of Joseph by his brethren.


And there have always been enough of his kidney, whose piety lies in punishing who can see the justice of grudges but not of gratitude.


For you shall never convince the stronger feeling that it hath not the stronger reason, or incline him who hath no love to believe that there is good ground for loving.


As we may learn from the order of word-making, wherein _love_ precedeth _lovable_.


When Deronda presented his letter at the banking-house in the _Schuster Strasse_ at Mainz, and asked for Joseph Kalonymos, he was presently shown into an inner room, where, seated at a table arranging open letters, was the white-bearded man whom he had seen the year before in the synagogue at Frankfort.

When Deronda presented his letter at the banking-house in Mainz, and asked for Joseph Kalonymos, he was shown into an inner room. There, seated at a table arranging letters, was the white-bearded man whom he had seen the year before in the synagogue at Frankfort.


He wore his hat--it seemed to be the same old felt hat as before--and near him was a packed portmanteau with a wrap and overcoat upon it.

Near him was a packed suitcase with a wrap and overcoat upon it.


On seeing Deronda enter he rose, but did not advance or put out his hand.


Looking at him with small penetrating eyes which glittered like black gems in the midst of his yellowish face and white hair, he said in German,

and looking at him with small penetrating eyes, he said in German-


"Yes; I seek you with gratitude, as a friend of my grandfather's," said Deronda, "and I am under an obligation to you for giving yourself much trouble on my account."


He spoke without difficulty in that liberal German tongue which takes many strange accents to its maternal bosom.


Kalonymos now put out his hand and said cordially, "So you are no longer angry at being something more than an Englishman?"

Kalonymos put out his hand and said cordially, "So you are no longer angry at being something more than an Englishman?"


I thank you heartily for helping to save me from remaining in ignorance of my parentage, and for taking care of the chest that my grandfather left in trust for me."


"Sit down, sit down," said Kalonymos, in a quick undertone, seating himself again, and pointing to a chair near him.


Then deliberately laying aside his hat and showing a head thickly covered, with white hair, he stroked and clutched his beard while he looked examiningly at the young face before him.

Laying aside his hat, he examined the young face before him.


The moment wrought strongly on Deronda's imaginative susceptibility: in the presence of one linked still in zealous friendship with the grandfather whose hope had yearned toward him when he was unborn, and who, though dead, was yet to speak with him in those written memorials which, says Milton, "contain a potency of life in them to be as active as that soul whose progeny they are," he seemed to himself to be touching the electric chain of his own ancestry; and he bore the scrutinizing look of Kalonymos with a delighted awe, something like what one feels in the solemn commemoration of acts done long ago but still telling markedly on the life of to-day.

The presence of his grandfather's friend affected Deronda deeply; he seemed to be touching the electric chain of his own ancestry, and he bore the scrutiny of Kalonymos with delighted awe.


Impossible for men of duller fibre--men whose affection is not ready to diffuse itself through the wide travel of imagination, to comprehend, perhaps even to credit this sensibility of Deronda's; but it subsisted, like their own dullness, notwithstanding their lack of belief in it--and it gave his face an expression which seemed very satisfactory to the observer.

This sensibility of Deronda's gave his face an expression which seemed very satisfactory to his observer.


He said in Hebrew, quoting from one of the fine hymns in the Hebrew liturgy, "As thy goodness has been great to the former generations, even so may it be to the latter."

Kalonymos said in Hebrew, quoting from a hymn, "As thy goodness has been great to the former generations, even so may it be to the latter."


Then after pausing a little he began, "Young man, I rejoice that I was not yet set off again on my travels, and that you are come in time for me to see the image of my friend as he was in his youth--no longer perverted from the fellowship of your people--no longer shrinking in proud wrath from the touch of him who seemed to be claiming you as a Jew.

Then he began, "Young man, I rejoice that you are come in time for me to see the image of my friend as he was in his youth - no longer shrinking in proud wrath from the touch of him who seemed to claim you as a Jew.


You come with thankfulness yourself to claim the kindred and heritage that wicked contrivance would have robbed you of.

You come with thankfulness to claim the heritage that wicked contrivance would have robbed you of.


You come with a willing soul to declare, 'I am the grandson of Daniel Charisi.'


"But let me say that I should at no time have been inclined to treat a Jew with incivility simply because he was a Jew.

"But let me say that I should never have been inclined to treat a Jew with incivility simply because he was a Jew.


You can understand that I shrank from saying to a stranger, 'I know nothing of my mother.'"


said Kalonymos, putting up his hand and closing his eyes in disgust.


"A robbery of our people--as when our youths and maidens were reared for the Roman Edom.


When Daniel Charisi--may his Rock and his Redeemer guard him!--when Daniel Charisi was a stripling and I was a lad little above his shoulder, we made a solemn vow always to be friends.

When Daniel Charisi was a stripling and I was a lad little above his shoulder, we made a solemn vow always to be friends.


He said, 'Let us bind ourselves with duty, as if we were sons of the same mother.'


That was his bent from first to last--as he said, to fortify his soul with bonds.


It was a saying of his, 'Let us bind love with duty; for duty is the love of law; and law is the nature of the Eternal.'


And though we were much apart in our later life, the bond has never been broken.


When he was dead, they sought to rob him; but they could not rob him of me.


I rescued that remainder of him which he had prized and preserved for his offspring.


And I have restored to him the offspring they had robbed him of.


Kalonymos left the room for a few minutes, and returned with a clerk who carried the chest, set it down on the floor, drew off a leather cover, and went out again.

Kalonymos left the room, and returned with a clerk who carried the chest and set it down on the floor.


It was not very large, but was made heavy by ornamental bracers and handles of gilt iron.


The wood was beautifully incised with Arabic lettering.


"And here is the curious key," he added, taking it from a small leathern bag.

"Here is the key," he added, taking it from a small leathern bag.


He gave Deronda the monitory and slightly suspicious look with which age is apt to commit any object to the keeping of youth.

He gave Deronda the slightly suspicious look with which age is apt to commit any object to the keeping of youth.


"I shall be more careful of this than of any other property," said Deronda, smiling and putting the key in his breast-pocket.


"I never before possessed anything that was a sign to me of so much cherished hope and effort.

"I never before possessed anything that was a sign of so much cherished hope and effort.


And I shall never forget that the effort was partly yours.


Have you time to tell me more of my grandfather?"


Or shall I be trespassing in staying longer?"


In an hour and eighteen minutes I start for Trieste," said Kalonymos, looking at his watch, "and presently my sons will expect my attention.

"In an hour and eighteen minutes I start for Trieste," said Kalonymos, looking at his watch, "


Will you let me make you known to them, so that they may have the pleasure of showing hospitality to my friend's grandson?


They dwell here in ease and luxury, though I choose to be a wanderer."


"I shall be glad if you will commend me to their acquaintance for some future opportunity," said Deronda.


"There are pressing claims calling me to England--friends who may be much in need of my presence.


I have been kept away from them too long by unexpected circumstances.


But to know more of you and your family would be motive enough to bring me again to Mainz."


Me you will hardly find, for I am beyond my threescore years and ten, and I am a wanderer, carrying my shroud with me.


But my sons and their children dwell here in wealth and unity.


The days are changed for us since Karl the Great fetched my ancestors from Italy to bring some tincture of knowledge to our rough German brethren.

The days are changed for us since Karl the Great fetched my ancestors from Italy to bring some knowledge to our rough German brethren.


I and my contemporaries have had to fight for it too.


Our youth fell on evil days; but this we have won; we increase our wealth in safety, and the learning of all Germany is fed and fattened by Jewish brains--though they keep not always their Jewish hearts.

Our youth fell on evil days; but this we have won; we increase our wealth in safety, and the learning of all Germany is fed by Jewish brains.


Have you been left altogether ignorant of your people's life, young man?"


"No," said Deronda, "I have lately, before I had any true suspicion of my parentage, been led to study everything belonging to their history with more interest than any other subject.

"No," said Deronda, "I have lately been led to study their history with interest.


It turns out that I have been making myself ready to understand my grandfather a little."

It turns out that I have been making myself ready to understand my grandfather."


He was anxious less the time should be consumed before this circuitous course of talk could lead them back to the topic he most cared about.


Age does not easily distinguish between what it needs to express and what youth needs to know--distance seeming to level the objects of memory; and keenly active as Joseph Kalonymos showed himself, an inkstand in the wrong place would have hindered his imagination from getting to Beyrout: he had been used to unite restless travel with punctilious observation.


But Deronda's last sentence answered its purpose.


"So--you would perhaps have been such a man as he if your education had not hindered; for you are like him in features:--yet not altogether, young man.

"You would perhaps have been such a man as he if your education had not hindered it; for you are like him in features:- yet not altogether.


He had an iron will in his face: it braced up everybody about him.


When he was quite young he had already got one deep upright line in his brow.


Daniel Charisi used to say, 'Better, a wrong will than a wavering; better a steadfast enemy than an uncertain friend; better a false belief than no belief at all.'

Daniel Charisi used to say, 'Better a wrong will than a wavering; better a false belief than no belief at all.'


What he despised most was indifference."


He had longer reasons than I can give you."


said Deronda, with a tacit reference to the usual excuse for indecision--that it comes from knowing too much.


no," said Kalonymos, shaking his head with a compassionate smile "From his childhood upward, he drank in learning as easily as the plant sucks up water.

no," said Kalonymos. "He drank in learning as easily as the plant sucks up water.


But he early took to medicine and theories about life and health.


He traveled to many countries, and spent much of his substance in seeing and knowing.


What he used to insist on was that the strength and wealth of mankind depended on the balance of separateness and communication, and he was bitterly against our people losing themselves among the Gentiles; 'It's no better,' said he, 'than the many sorts of grain going back from their variety into sameness.'

He travelled to many countries, and he was bitterly against our people losing themselves among the Gentiles; 'It's no better,' said he, 'than the many sorts of grain going back from their variety into sameness.'


He mingled all sorts of learning; and in that he was like our Arabic writers in the golden time.


We studied together, but he went beyond me.


Though we were bosom friends, and he poured himself out to me, we were as different as the inside and outside of the bowl.

Though we were bosom friends, we were as different as the inside and outside of the bowl.


I stood up for two notions of my own: I took Charisi's sayings as I took the shape of the trees: they were there, not to be disputed about.


It came to the same thing in both of us; we were both faithful Jews, thankful not to be Gentiles.


And since I was a ripe man, I have been what I am now, for all but age--loving to wander, loving transactions, loving to behold all things, and caring nothing about hardship.


Charisi thought continually of our people's future: he went with all his soul into that part of our religion: I, not.


Our people wandered before they were driven.


Young man when I am in the East, I lie much on deck and watch the greater stars.


I know them as they rise, and hunger not to know more.


Charisi was satisfied with no sight, but pieced it out with what had been before and what would come after.

But Charisi was not satisfied with that, but thought of what would come after.


Yet we loved each other, and as he said, he bound our love with duty; we solemnly pledged ourselves to help and defend each other to the last.

Yet we loved each other, and bound our love with duty; we solemnly pledged to help and defend each other to the last.


Here Kalonymos rose, and Deronda, rising also, said,

Here Kalonymos rose, and Deronda, rising also, said-


"And in being faithful to him you have caused justice to be done to me.


It would have been a robbery of me too that I should never have known of the inheritance he had prepared for me.


This question was put with a quick abruptness which embarrassed Deronda, who did not feel it quite honest to allege his law-reading as a vocation.

This question embarrassed Deronda, who did not feel it honest to allege his law-reading as a vocation.


You will call yourself a Jew and profess the faith of your fathers?"


said Kalonymos, putting his hand on Deronda's shoulder and looking sharply in his face.

said Kalonymos, looking sharply in his face.


"I shall call myself a Jew," said Deronda, deliberately, becoming slightly paler under the piercing eyes of his questioner.

"I shall call myself a Jew," said Deronda, deliberately, becoming slightly paler under those piercing eyes.


"But I will not say that I shall profess to believe exactly as my fathers have believed.


Our fathers themselves changed the horizon of their belief and learned of other races.


But I think I can maintain my grandfather's notion of separateness with communication.


I hold that my first duty is to my own people, and if there is anything to be done toward restoring or perfecting their common life, I shall make that my vocation."


It happened to Deronda at that moment, as it has often happened to others, that the need for speech made an epoch in resolve.

It happened to Deronda at that moment, that the need for speech made an epoch in resolve.


His respect for the questioner would not let him decline to answer, and by the necessity to answer he found out the truth for himself.

By the necessity to answer he found out the truth for himself.


"Ah, you argue and you look forward--you are Daniel Charisi's grandson," said Kalonymos, adding a benediction in Hebrew.

"Ah, you argue and you look forward - you are Daniel Charisi's grandson," said Kalonymos, adding a benediction in Hebrew.


With that they parted; and almost as soon as Deronda was in London, the aged man was again on shipboard, greeting the friendly stars without any eager curiosity.


Ihn hat verwandelt Hexenspruch in einen Hund.


* * * * * Aber jeden Freitag Abend, In der Dmm'rungstunde, pltzlich Weicht der Zauber, und der Hund Wird aufs Neu' ein menschlich Wesen."


When Deronda arrived at five o'clock, the shop was closed and the door was opened for him by the Christian servant.

When Deronda arrived at five o'clock, the servant


When she showed him into the room behind the shop he was surprised at the prettiness of the scene.

showed him into the room behind the closed shop. He was surprised at the prettiness of the scene.


The house was old, and rather extensive at the back: probably the large room he now entered was gloomy by daylight, but now it was agreeably lit by a fine old brass lamp with seven oil-lights hanging above the snow-white cloth spread on the central table.

The house was old, and extensive at the back: the large room was lit by a fine old brass lamp with seven oil-lights hanging above the snow-white cloth spread on the central table.


The ceiling and walls were smoky, and all the surroundings were dark enough to throw into relief the human figures, which had a Venetian glow of coloring.

The dark surroundings threw into relief the human figures, with a Venetian glow of colouring.


The grandmother was arrayed in yellowish brown with a large gold chain in lieu of the necklace, and by this light her yellow face with its darkly-marked eyebrows and framing roll of gray hair looked as handsome as was necessary for picturesque effect.

By this light, the grandmother's face with its darkly-marked eyebrows and framing roll of grey hair looked picturesquely handsome.


Young Mrs. Cohen was clad in red and black, with a string of large artificial pearls wound round and round her neck: the baby lay asleep in the cradle under a scarlet counterpane; Adelaide Rebekah was in braided amber, and Jacob Alexander was in black velveteen with scarlet stockings.

Young Mrs. Cohen was clad in red and black, with a string of large artificial pearls wound round and round her neck: the baby lay asleep in the cradle; Adelaide Rebekah was in braided amber, and Jacob was in black velveteen with scarlet stockings.


As the four pairs of black eyes all glistened a welcome at Deronda, he was almost ashamed of the supercilious dislike these happy-looking creatures had raised in him by daylight.

Deronda was almost ashamed of the supercilious dislike these happy-looking creatures had raised in him by daylight.


Nothing could be more cordial than the greeting he received, and both mother and grandmother seemed to gather more dignity from being seen on the private hearth, showing hospitality.

Nothing could be more cordial than the greeting he received, and both mother and grandmother seemed more dignified in this setting.


He looked round with some wonder at the old furniture: the oaken bureau and high side-table must surely be mere matters of chance and economy, and not due to the family taste.

He looked round with some wonder at the old oak bureau and high side-table,


A large dish of blue and yellow ware was set up on the side-table, and flanking it were two old silver vessels; in front of them a large volume in darkened vellum with a deep-ribbed back.

where a large blue and yellow dish was set up between two old silver vessels; in front of them lay a large volume in darkened vellum.


In the corner at the farther end was an open door into an inner room, where there was also a light.

In the far corner was an open door into an inner room, where there was also a light.


Deronda took in these details by parenthetic glances while he met Jacob's pressing solicitude about the knife.

Deronda took in these details while he met Jacob's pressing solicitude about the knife.


He had taken the pains to buy one with the requisites of the hook and white handle, and produced it on demand, saying,

He had taken the pains to buy one with a hook and white handle, and produced it on demand, saying,-


"Is that the sort of thing you want, Jacob?"


It was subjected to a severe scrutiny, the hook and blades were opened, and the article of barter with the cork-screw was drawn forth for comparison.

It was subjected to a severe scrutiny, with Jacob's own knife being drawn forth for comparison.


"Why do you like a hook better than a cork-screw?"


"'Caush I can get hold of things with a hook.


A corkscrew won't go into anything but corks.


But it's better for you, you can draw corks."


said Deronda, observing that the grandmother was listening with delight.


"What else have you got in your pockets?"


said Jacob, with deliberative seriousness.


"Hush, hush, Jacob, love," said the grandmother.

"Hush, Jacob, love," said the grandmother.


And Deronda, mindful of discipline, answered,


Jacob looked up into his face scanningly for a moment or two, and apparently arriving at his conclusions, said gravely,

Jacob scanned his face for a moment, before saying gravely-


"I'll shwop," handing the cork-screw knife to Deronda, who pocketed it with corresponding gravity.

"I'll shwop," handing the cork-screw knife to Deronda, who pocketed it with equal gravity.


Immediately the small son of Shem ran off into the next room, whence his voice was heard in rapid chat; and then ran back again--when, seeing his father enter, he seized a little velveteen hat which lay on a chair and put it on to approach him.

Immediately Jacob ran off into the next room, whence his voice was heard in rapid chat; and then ran back again - when, seeing his father enter, he seized a little velveteen hat from a chair and put it on.


Cohen kept on his own hat, and took no notice of the visitor, but stood still while the two children went up to him and clasped his knees: then he laid his hands on each in turn and uttered his Hebrew benediction; whereupon the wife, who had lately taken baby from the cradle, brought it up to her husband and held it under his outstretched hands, to be blessed in its sleep.

Cohen kept on his own hat, and stood still while the two children went up to him and clasped his knees. Then he laid his hands on each in turn and uttered his Hebrew benediction; whereupon the wife lifted the baby and brought it to her husband to be blessed in its sleep.


For the moment, Deronda thought that this pawnbroker, proud of his vocation, was not utterly prosaic.

For the moment, Deronda thought that this pawnbroker was not utterly prosaic.


"Well, sir, you found your welcome in my family, I think," said Cohen, putting down his hat and becoming his former self.

"Welcome, sir," said Cohen, putting down his hat.


Nothing like a little stress here," he added, tapping his side pocket as he sat down.


I've felt it when I've had to make up payments.


"That is the ring I spoke of," said Deronda, taking it from his finger.


It will be a sufficient pledge to you for fifty, I think.


I shall probably redeem it in a month or so."


Cohen's glistening eyes seemed to get a little nearer together as he met the ingenuous look of this crude young gentleman, who apparently supposed that redemption was a satisfaction to pawnbrokers.

Cohen's glistening eyes seemed to get a little nearer together as met the innocent look of this young gentleman, who apparently supposed that redemption was a satisfaction to pawnbrokers.


He took the ring, examined and returned it, saying with indifference, "Good, good.

He examined the ring and returned it, saying with indifference, "Good, good.


Perhaps you'll join us, if you've no objection.


Me and my wife'll feel honored, and so will mother; won't you, mother?"

Me and my wife'll feel honoured, and so will mother."


The invitation was doubly echoed, and Deronda gladly accepted it.


All now turned and stood round the table.


No dish was at present seen except one covered with a napkin; and Mrs. Cohen had placed a china bowl near her husband that he might wash his hands in it.

, which held no dish at present except one covered with a napkin; and Mrs. Cohen had placed a china bowl near her husband that he might wash his hands in it.


But after putting on his hat again, he paused, and called in a loud voice, "Mordecai!"


Can this be part of the religious ceremony?


thought Deronda, not knowing what might be expected of the ancient hero.


But he heard a "Yes" from the next room, which made him look toward the open door; and there, to his astonishment, he saw the figure of the enigmatic Jew whom he had this morning met with in the book-shop.

Deronda heard a "Yes" from the next room, and to his astonishment, from it stepped the figure of the enigmatic Jew whom he had met in the book-shop.


Their eyes met, and Mordecai looked as much surprised as Deronda--neither in his surprise making any sign of recognition.

Their eyes met, and Mordecai looked as much surprised as Deronda - though neither made any sign of recognition.


But when Mordecai was seating himself at the end of the table, he just bent his head to the guest in a cold and distant manner, as if the disappointment of the morning remained a disagreeable association with this new acquaintance.

But as Mordecai came to the table, he just bent his head to the guest in a cold and distant manner, as if still feeling the disappointment of the morning.


Cohen now washed his hands, pronouncing Hebrew words the while: afterward, he took off the napkin covering the dish and disclosed the two long flat loaves besprinkled with seed--the memorial of the manna that fed the wandering forefathers--and breaking off small pieces gave one to each of the family, including Adelaide Rebekah, who stood on the chair with her whole length exhibited in her amber-colored garment, her little Jewish nose lengthened by compression of the lip in the effort to make a suitable appearance.

Cohen now washed his hands, pronouncing Hebrew words: then he took off the napkin covering the dish and disclosed the two long flat loaves besprinkled with seed - the memorial of the manna that fed the wandering forefathers - and breaking off small pieces gave one to each of the family, including Adelaide Rebekah, who stood on the chair in her amber-coloured garment, trying to look suitably solemn.


Cohen then uttered another Hebrew blessing, and after that, the male heads were uncovered, all seated themselves, and the meal went on without any peculiarity that interested Deronda.


He was not very conscious of what dishes he ate from; being preoccupied with a desire to turn the conversation in a way that would enable him to ask some leading question; and also thinking of Mordecai, between whom and himself there was an exchange of fascinated, half-furtive glances.

He was not very conscious of what dishes he ate; being preoccupied with a desire to turn the conversation in a way that would let him ask about Mirah; and also thinking of Mordecai, with whom he exchanged fascinated, furtive glances.


Mordecai had no handsome Sabbath garment, but instead of the threadbare rusty black coat of the morning he wore one of light drab, which looked as if it had once been a handsome loose paletot now shrunk with washing; and this change of clothing gave a still stronger accentuation to his dark-haired, eager face which might have belonged to the prophet Ezekiel--also probably not modish in the eyes of contemporaries.

Mordecai had no handsome Sabbath garment, but instead of the threadbare rusty black coat of the morning he wore a light one, which looked as if it had once been a handsome loose jacket, now shrunk with washing, which gave a stronger accentuation to his dark-haired, eager face.


It was noticeable that the thin tails of the fried fish were given to Mordecai; and in general the sort of share assigned to a poor relation--no doubt a "survival" of prehistoric practice, not yet generally admitted to be superstitious.

Deronda noticed that Mordecai was given the thin tails of the fried fish: the sort of share assigned to a poor relation.


Mr. Cohen kept up the conversation with much liveliness, introducing as subjects always in taste (the Jew is proud of his loyalty) the Queen and the Royal Family, the Emperor and Empress of the French--into which both grandmother and wife entered with zest.

Mr. Cohen kept up the conversation with much liveliness, introducing as subjects the Queen and the Royal Family, and the French Emperor and Empress - into which both grandmother and wife entered with zest.


Mrs. Cohen the younger showed an accurate memory of distinguished birthdays; and the elder assisted her son in informing the guest of what occurred when the Emperor and Empress were in England and visited the city ten years before.


"I dare say you know all about it better than we do, sir," said Cohen, repeatedly, by way of preface to full information; and the interesting statements were kept up in a trio.


"Our baby is named _Eu_genie Esther," said young Mrs. Cohen, vivaciously.


"It's wonderful how the Emperor's like a cousin of mine in the face," said the grandmother; "it struck me like lightning when I caught sight of him.

"It's wonderful how the Emperor resembles a cousin of mine," said the grandmother; "it struck me like lightning when I saw him."


"Mother and me went to see the Emperor and Empress at the Crystal Palace," said Mr. Cohen.

"We went to see the Emperor and Empress at the Crystal Palace," said Mr. Cohen.


"I had a fine piece of work to take care of, mother; she might have been squeezed flat--though she was pretty near as lusty then as she is now.

"I had hard work to take care of mother; she might have been squeezed flat.


I said if I had a hundred mothers I'd never take one of 'em to see the Emperor and Empress at the Crystal Palace again; and you may think a man can't afford it when he's got but one mother--not if he'd ever so big an insurance on her."

If I had a hundred mothers I'd never take one of 'em to see the Emperor and Empress at the Crystal Palace again; a man can't afford it when he's got but one mother."


He stroked his mother's shoulder affectionately, and chuckled a little at his own humor.

He stroked his mother's shoulder affectionately.


"Your mother has been a widow a long while, perhaps," said Deronda, seizing his opportunity.


"That has made your care for her the more needful."


"Ay, ay, it's a good many _yore-zeit_ since I had to manage for her and myself," said Cohen quickly.

"Ay, ay, it's a good many years since I had to manage for her and myself," said Cohen.


"What does--what makes a sharp knife, father?"


said Jacob, his cheek very much swollen with sweet-cake.

said Jacob, his cheek swollen with cake.


The father winked at his guest and said, "Having your nose put on the grindstone."

The father winked at his guest and said, "Having your nose put to the grindstone."


Jacob slipped from his chair with the piece of sweet-cake in his hand, and going close up to Mordecai, who had been totally silent hitherto, said, "What does that mean--putting my nose to the grindstone?"

Jacob slipped from his chair, cake in hand, and going to Mordecai, who had been silent hitherto, said, "What does that mean - putting my nose to the grindstone?"


"It means that you are to bear being hurt without making a noise," said Mordecai, turning his eyes benignantly on the small face close to his.

"It means that you are to bear being hurt without making a noise," said Mordecai, turning his eyes benignly on the small face close to his.