Charlie and Kate were to be the two bridesmaids, and, as Kate told her cousin in their first confidential intercourse on the evening of Alice's arrival, there were already great hopes in the household that the master of Oileymead might be brought to surrender.

Charlie and Kate were to be the two bridesmaids, and, as Kate told her cousin in their first confidential talk that evening, there were already great hopes that the master of Oileymead might be brought to surrender.


It was true that Charlie had not a shilling, and that Mr. Cheesacre had set his heart on marrying an heiress.


It was true that Miss Fairstairs had always stood low in the gentleman's estimation, as being connected with people who were as much without rank and fashion as they were without money, and that the gentleman loved rank and fashion dearly.

It was true that Miss Fairstairs' connections were without rank or fashion, and that the gentleman loved rank and fashion dearly.


It was true that Charlie was no beauty, and that Cheesacre had an eye for feminine charms.


It was true that he had despised Charlie, and had spoken his contempt openly;--that he had seen the girl on the sands at Yarmouth every summer for the last ten years, and about the streets of Norwich every winter, and had learned to regard her as a thing poor and despicable, because she was common in his eyes.

It was true that he had despised Charlie, and had spoken his contempt openly; that he had learned to regard her as poor and despicable, because she was common in his eyes.


It is thus that the Cheesacres judge of people.


But in spite of all these difficulties Mrs. Greenow had taken up poor Charlie's case, and Kate Vavasor expressed a strong opinion that her aunt would win.


She has made herself so much his master that he doesn't know how to say no to her.


Sometimes I have thought that he might possibly run away, but I have abandoned that fear now.

Sometimes I have thought that he might run away, but I don't think so now.


She has little confidences with him from day to day, which are so alluring to him that he cannot tear himself off.

She has little chats with him from day to day, which are so alluring to him that he cannot tear himself off.


In the middle of one of them he will find himself engaged."


Won't it be a wretched marriage for her?"


He's one of those men to whom any woman, after a little time, will come to be the same.

He's one of those men to whom any woman, after a little time, will be the same.


He'll be rough with her once a month or so, and perhaps tell her that she brought no money with her; but that won't break any bones, and Charlie will know how to fight her own battles.

He'll be rough with her once a month or so, and perhaps tell her that she brought no money; but that won't break any bones, and Charlie will know how to fight her own battles.


She'll save his money if she brings none, and in a few years' time they will quite understand each other."


Mr. Cheesacre and Captain Bellfield were at this time living in lodgings together, at Penrith, but came over and spent every other day at Vavasor, returning always to their lodgings in the evening.

Mr. Cheesacre and Captain Bellfield were at this time living in lodgings together, at Penrith, but came over and spent every other day at Vavasor, returning to their lodgings in the evening.


It wanted but eight days to the marriage when Alice arrived, and preparations for that event were in progress.

It was eight days to the marriage when Alice arrived.


"It's to be very quiet, Alice," said her aunt; "as quiet as such a thing can be made.

"It's to be very quiet, Alice," said her aunt; "as quiet as can be.


I owe that to the memory of the departed one.


I know that he is looking down upon me, and that he approves all that I do."


Indeed, he told me once that he did not want me to live desolate for his sake.


If I didn't feel that he was looking down and approving it, I should be wretched indeed."


She took Alice up to see her trousseau, and gave the other expectant bride some little hints which, under present circumstances, might be useful.

She took Alice up to see her trousseau, and gave the other expectant bride some useful little hints about linen.


"Yes, indeed; only three-and-sixpence a piece, and they're quite real.


You wouldn't get them in the shops under six."


Alice did feel them, and wondered whether her aunt could have saved the half-crown honestly.


"I had my eyes about me when I was up in town, my dear.


And look here, these are quite new,--have never been on yet, and I had them when I was married before.

"Look here, these are quite new - have never been on yet, and I had them when I was married before.


There is nothing like being careful, my dear.


I hate meanness, as everybody knows who knows me; but there is nothing like being careful.

I hate meanness; but there is nothing like being careful, my dear.


You have a lot of rich people about you just now, and will have ever so many things given you which you won't want.


Saying this, Mrs. Greenow folded up, among her present bridal belongings, sundries of the wealth which had accrued to her in an earlier stage of her career.


And then Mrs. Greenow opened her mind to Alice about the Captain.

And then Mrs. Greenow opened her mind about the Captain.


"He's as good as gold, my dear; he is, indeed,--in his own way.

"He's as good as gold, my dear, in his own way.


Of course, I know that he has faults, and I should like to know who hasn't.


Although poor dear Greenow certainly was more without them than anybody else I ever knew."


As this remembrance came upon Mrs. Greenow she put her handkerchief to her eyes, and Alice observed that that which she held still bore the deepest hem of widowhood.


They would be used, no doubt, till the last day, and then put by in lavender for future possible occasions.


"Bellfield may have been a little extravagant. I dare say he has.

Bellfield may have been a little extravagant, I dare say.


But how can a man help being extravagant when he hasn't got any regular income?


He has been ill-treated in his profession; very.

He has been ill-treated in his profession.


It makes my blood curdle when I think of it.


After fighting his country's battles through blood, and dust, and wounds;--but I'll tell you about that another time."

After fighting his country's battles through blood, and dust, and wounds - but I'll tell you about that another time."


"I suppose a man seldom does make a fortune, aunt, by being a soldier?"


"Never, my dear; much better be a tailor.


But as I was saying, he is the best-tempered creature alive, and the staunchest friend I ever met.

But he is the best-tempered creature alive, and the staunchest friend I ever met.


You should hear what Mr. Cheesacre says of him!


If you remember, he went away before I saw him when he came here before."


"Between you and me, Kate might have had him if she liked; but perhaps Kate was right."


"I don't think he would have suited Kate at all."


There's a sweet girl here to whom he is violently attached, and who I hope will become Mrs. Cheesacre.


But as I was saying, the friendship between these two men is quite wonderful, and I have always observed that when a man can create that kind of affection in the bosom of another man, he invariably is,--the sort of man,--the man, in fact, who makes a good husband."

But as I was saying, the friendship between those two men is quite wonderful, and I have always observed that when a man can create that kind of affection in the bosom of another man, he is the sort of man who makes a good husband."


Alice knew the story of Charlie Fairstairs and her hopes; knew of the quarrels between Bellfield and Cheesacre; knew almost as much of Bellfield's past life as Mrs. Greenow did herself; and Mrs. Greenow was no doubt aware that such was the case.

Alice knew almost as much of Bellfield's past life as Mrs. Greenow did herself; and Mrs. Greenow was aware of it.


Nevertheless, she had a pleasure in telling her own story, and told it as though she believed every word that she spoke.

Nevertheless, she had a pleasure in telling her own story, and seemed to believe every word that she spoke.


On the following day the two gentlemen came over, according to custom, and Alice observed that Miss Fairstairs hardly spoke to Mr. Cheesacre. Indeed her manner of avoiding that gentleman was so very marked, that it was impossible not to observe it.

On the following day the two gentlemen came over, and Alice observed that Miss Fairstairs hardly spoke to Mr. Cheesacre, but avoided him very markedly.


They drank tea out of doors, and when Mr. Cheesacre on one occasion sauntered across towards the end of the bench on which Charlie was sitting, Charlie got up and walked away.

They drank tea out of doors, and when Mr. Cheesacre sauntered towards the end of the bench on which Charlie was sitting, Charlie got up and walked away.


And in strolling about the place afterwards, and in going up through the wood, she was at great pains to attach herself to some other person, so that there should be no such attaching between her and the owner of Oileymead.

And when they strolled about the place afterwards, she was at great pains to attach herself to some other person, so that Mr. Cheesacre could not attach himself to her.


At one time Mr. Cheesacre did get close up to her and spoke some word, some very indifferent word.

At one time Mr. Cheesacre did get close to her and spoke some indifferent word.


He knew that he was being cut and he wanted to avoid the appearance of a scene.


"I don't know, sir," said Charlie, again moving away with excellent dignity, and she at once attached herself to Alice who was close by.

"I don't know, sir," said Charlie, again moving away with dignity to Alice, who was close by.


"I know you have just come home from Switzerland," said Charlie.


Do tell me something about Switzerland!"


Mr. Cheesacre had heard that Alice was the dear friend of a lady who would probably some day become a duchess.

Mr. Cheesacre had heard that Alice was the dear friend of a lady who would some day become a duchess.


He therefore naturally held her in awe, and slunk away.


On this occasion Mrs. Greenow clung lovingly to her future husband, and the effect was that Mr. Cheesacre found himself to be very much alone and unhappy.

Mrs. Greenow clung lovingly to her future husband, and Mr. Cheesacre was very much alone and unhappy.


He had generally enjoyed these days at Vavasor Hall, having found himself, or fancied himself, to be the dominant spirit there.

He had generally enjoyed these days at Vavasor Hall, having fancied himself to be the dominant spirit there.


That Mrs. Greenow was always in truth the dominant spirit I need hardly say; but she knew how to make a companion happy, and well also how to make him wretched.

That Mrs. Greenow was always in truth the dominant spirit I need hardly say; but she knew how to make a companion happy, and also how to make him wretched.


On the whole of this day poor Cheesacre was very wretched.

On this day poor Cheesacre was very wretched.


"I don't think I shall go there any more," he said to Bellfield, as he drove the gig back to Penrith that evening.

"I don't think I shall go there any more," he said to Bellfield, as they drove back to Penrith that evening.


"Not go there any more, Cheesy," said Bellfield; "why, we are to have the dinner out in the field on Friday.

"Not go there any more, Cheesy?" said Bellfield; "why, we are to have the dinner in the field on Friday.


"Well, yes; I'll go on Friday, but not after that."


"You'll stop and see me turned off, old fellow?"

"You'll stop and see me married, old fellow?"


You'll get your wife, and that's enough for you.


The truth is, that since that girl came down from London with her d----d airs;"--the girl from London with the airs was poor Alice,--"the place is quite changed.

The truth is, that since that girl came down from London with her d---d airs;" - he meant poor Alice - "the place is quite changed.


I'm blessed if the whole thing isn't as dark as ditch-water.


I'm a plain man, I am; and I do hate your swells."


Against this view of the case Captain Bellfield argued stoutly; but Cheesacre had been offended, and throughout the next day he was cross and touchy.

Captain Bellfield argued with him; but Cheesacre was cross and touchy.


He wouldn't play billiards, and on one occasion hinted that he hoped he should get that money soon.


"You did it admirably, my dear," said Mrs. Greenow that night to Charlie Fairstairs.


The widow was now on terms almost more confidential with Miss Fairstairs than with her own niece, Kate Vavasor.


She loved a little bit of intrigue; and though Kate could intrigue, as we have seen in this story, Kate would not join her aunt's intrigues.


"I really did not think you had so much in you."


"Oh, I don't know," said Charlie, blushing at the praise.


"And it's the only way, my dear;--the only way, I mean, for you with such a one as him.

"And it's the only way, my dear, with such a one as him.


And if he does come round, you'll find him an excellent husband."

If he does come round, you'll find him an excellent husband."


"I don't think he cares for me a bit," said Charlie whimpering.

"I don't think he cares for me a bit," said Charlie, whimpering.


Girls never know whether men care for them or not.


If he asks you to marry him, won't that be a sign that he cares for you?


and if he don't, why, there'll be no harm done."


"If he thinks it's his money--" began Charlie.

"If he thinks it's his money-" began Charlie.


"Now, don't talk nonsense, Charlie," said Mrs. Greenow, "or you'll make me sick. Of course it's his money, more or less.

"Now, don't talk nonsense, Charlie," said Mrs. Greenow, "Of course it's his money, more or less.


You don't mean to tell me you'd go and fall in love with him if he was like Bellfield, and hadn't got a rap?


I can afford that sort of thing; you can't.


I don't mean to say you ain't to love him.


Of course, you're to love him; and I've no doubt you will, and make him a very good wife.


I always think that worldliness and sentimentality are like brandy-and-water.


I don't like either of them separately, but taken together they make a very nice drink.


I like them warm, with ---- as the gentlemen say."


To this little lecture Miss Fairstairs listened with dutiful patience, and when it was over she said nothing more of her outraged affections or of her disregard for money.


"And now, my dear, mind you look your best on Friday.


I'll get him away immediately after dinner, and when he's done with me you can contrive to be in his way, you know."


The next day was what Kate called the blank day at the Hall. The ladies were all alone, and devoted themselves, as was always the case on the blank days, to millinery and household cares.

The next day the ladies were all alone, and devoted themselves to millinery and household cares.


Mrs. Greenow, as has before been stated, had taken a lease of the place, and her troubles extended beyond her mere bridal wardrobe.


Large trunks of household linen had arrived, and all this linen was marked with the name of Greenow; Greenow, 5.58; Greenow, 7.52; and a good deal had to be done before this ancient wealth of housewifery could probably be converted to Bellfield purposes.

Large trunks of household linen had arrived, all of it marked with the name of Greenow.


"We must cut out the pieces, Jeannette, and work 'em in again ever so carefully," said the widow, after some painful consideration.

"We must cut out the pieces, Jeannette, and work 'em in again ever so carefully," said the widow.


"It will always show," said Jeannette, shaking her head.


"But the other would show worse," said the widow; "and if you finedraw it, not one person in ten will notice it.

"But not one person in ten will notice it.


We'd always put them on with the name to the feet, you know."

We'd always put them on the beds with the name to the feet, you know."


It was not quite true that Cheesacre had bespoke the dinner out in the field, although no doubt he thought he had done so.

It was not quite true that Cheesacre had arranged the dinner out in the field, although no doubt he thought he had done so.


The little treat, if treat it was, had all been arranged by Mrs. Greenow, who was ever ready to create festivities.

The little treat had been arranged by Mrs. Greenow.


There was not much scope for a picnic here.


Besides their own party, which, of course, included the Captain and Mr. Cheesacre, no guest could be caught except the clergyman;--that low-church clergyman, who was so anxious about his income, and with whom the old Squire had quarrelled.

Besides their own party, no guest could be caught except the clergyman.


Mrs. Greenow had quickly obtained the advantage of his alliance, and he, who was soon to perform on her behalf the marriage ceremony, had promised to grace this little festival.

He was soon to perform Mrs. Greenow's marriage ceremony, and had promised to grace this little festival.


The affair simply amounted to this, that they were to eat their dinner uncomfortably in the field instead of comfortably in the dining-room.

It amounted to this: that they were to eat their dinner uncomfortably in the field instead of comfortably in the dining-room.


But Mrs. Greenow knew that Charlie's charms would be much strengthened by a dinner out-of-doors.


"Nothing," she said to Kate, "nothing makes a man come forward so well as putting him altogether out of his usual tack.

"Nothing," she said to Kate, "makes a man come forward so well as putting him of his usual track."


A man who wouldn't think of such a thing in the drawing-room would be sure to make an offer if he spent an evening with a young lady down-stairs in the kitchen."


At two o'clock the gig from Penrith arrived at the Hall, and for the next hour both Cheesacre and the Captain were engaged in preparing the tables and carrying out the viands.

At two o'clock the gig from Penrith arrived at the Hall, and for the next hour both Cheesacre and the Captain were engaged in preparing the tables and carrying out the food.


The Captain and Charlie Fairstairs were going to lay the cloth.


"Let me do it," said Cheesacre taking it out of the Captain's hands.

"Let me do it," said Cheesacre, taking it out of the Captain's hands.


"Oh, certainly," said the Captain, giving up his prize.


"Captain Bellfield would do it much better," said Charlie, with a little toss of her head; "he's as good as a married man, and they always do these things best."


The day was fine, and although the shade was not perfect, and the midges were troublesome, the dinner went off very nicely.

The day was fine, and although the midges were troublesome, the dinner went off very nicely.


It was beautiful to see how well Mrs. Greenow remembered herself about the grace, seeing that the clergyman was there.

Mrs. Greenow remembered the grace just in time, with the clergyman there.


She was just in time, and would have been very angry with herself, and have thought herself awkward, had she forgotten it.


Mr. Cheesacre sat on her right hand, and the clergyman on her left, and she hardly spoke a word to Bellfield.

Mr. Cheesacre sat on her right, and the clergyman on her left, and she hardly spoke a word to Bellfield.


Her sweetest smiles were all given to Cheesacre.


She was specially anxious to keep her neighbour, the parson, in good-humour, and therefore illuminated him once in every five minutes with a passing ray, but the full splendour of her light was poured out upon Cheesacre, as it never had before been poured.

She was anxious to keep the parson in good-humour, and therefore illuminated him once in every five minutes with a passing ray, but the full splendour of her light was poured out upon Cheesacre, as it never had before been poured.


How she did flatter him, and with what a capacious gullet did he swallow her flatteries!


Oileymead was the only paradise she had ever seen.


"Ah, me; when I think of it sometimes,--but never mind."

"Ah, me; when I think of it sometimes - but never mind."


A moment came to him when he thought that even yet he might win the race, and send Bellfield away howling into outer darkness.


A moment came to him, and the widow saw the moment well.


"I know I have done for the best," said she, "and therefore I shall never regret it; at any rate, it's done now."

"I know I have done for the best," said she, "and at any rate, it's done now."


Besides, a man in your position in the county should always marry a wife younger than yourself,--a good deal younger."

Besides, a man in your position in the county should always marry a wife younger than yourself."


Cheesacre did not understand the argument, but he liked the allusion to his position in the county, and he perceived that it was too late for any changes in the present arrangements.

Cheesacre did not understand the argument, but he liked the allusion to his position in the county, and he was happy.


But he was happy; and all that feeling of animosity to Alice had vanished from his breast.


With so much of her own to fill her mind, she had been but little able to take her share in the Greenow festivities; and we may safely say, that if Mr. Cheesacre's supremacy was on any occasion attacked, it was not attacked by her.


His supremacy on this occasion was paramount, and during the dinner, and after the dinner, he was allowed to give his orders to Bellfield in a manner that must have gratified him much.

Both during and after the dinner, he was allowed to give his orders to Bellfield in a manner that gratified him much.


"You must have another glass of champagne with me, my friend," said Mrs. Greenow; and Mr. Cheesacre drank the other glass of champagne.


It was not the second nor the third that he had taken.


After dinner they started off for a ramble through the fields, and Mrs. Greenow and Mr. Cheesacre were together.


I think that Charlie Fairstairs did not go with them at all.


I think she went into the house and washed her face, and brushed her hair, and settled her muslin.


I should not wonder if she took off her frock and ironed it again.


Captain Bellfield, I know, went with Alice, and created some astonishment by assuring her that he fully meant to correct the error of his ways.

Captain Bellfield went with Alice, and assured her that he fully meant to correct the error of his ways.


"I know what it is," he said, "to be connected with such a family as yours, Miss Vavasor."


He too had heard about the future duchess, and wished to be on his best behaviour.


"This is the last time we shall ever be together in this way," said the widow to her friend.


On Wednesday I become Mrs. Bellfield, and I need hardly say that I have many things to think of before that; but Mr. Cheesacre, I hope we are not to be strangers hereafter?"

"On Wednesday I become Mrs. Bellfield; but Mr. Cheesacre, I hope we are not to be strangers hereafter?"


Oileymead would always be open to Captain and Mrs. Bellfield.


"We all know your hospitality," said she; "it is not to-day nor to-morrow that I or my husband,--that is to be,--will have to learn that. He always declares that you are the very beau ideal of an English country gentleman."

"We all know your hospitality," said she; "my husband to be always declares that you are the very ideal of an English country gentleman."


"Merely a poor Norfolk farmer," said Cheesacre.


"I never want to put myself beyond my own place.


"There has been some talk about the Commission of the Peace, but I don't think anything of it."


"It has been the greatest blessing in the world for him that he has ever known you," said Mrs. Greenow, still talking about her future husband.

"It has been the greatest blessing in the world for him that he has known you," said Mrs. Greenow.


"I've tried to be good-natured; that's all.


D---- me, Mrs. Greenow, what's the use of living if one doesn't try to be good-natured?


There isn't a better fellow than Bellfield living.


He and I ran for the same plate, and he has won it.


He's a lucky fellow, and I don't begrudge him his luck."


But, indeed, the plate you speak of was not worth your running for."


"I may have my own opinion about that, you know."


Nobody knows that as well as I do, or could have thought over the whole matter so often.


I know very well what my mission is in life.


The mistress of your house, Mr. Cheesacre, should not be any man's widow."


"She wouldn't be a widow then, you know."


"A virgin heart should be yours; and a virgin heart may be yours, if you choose to accept it."


"If you choose to take my solicitude on your behalf in that way, of course I have done.

"If you choose to take my solicitude in that way, of course I will stop.


You were good enough to say just now that you wished to see me and my husband in your hospitable halls.

You were good enough to say that you wished to see me and my husband in your hospitable halls.


After all that has passed, do you think that I could be a visitor at your house unless there is a mistress there?"

But do you think that I could be a visitor at your house unless there is a mistress there?"


"You are always wanting to marry me, Mrs. Greenow."

"You are always wanting to marry me off, Mrs. Greenow."


It is the only way in which there can be any friendship between us, and not for worlds would I lose that advantage for my husband,--let alone what I may feel for myself."

It is the only way in which there can be any friendship between us.


"Why didn't you take me yourself, Mrs. Greenow?"


"If you can't understand, it is not for me to say anything more, Mr. Cheesacre.


If you value the warm affection of a virgin heart--"

If you value the warm affection of a virgin heart-"


"Why, Mrs. Greenow, all yesterday she wouldn't say a word to me."


Are you so ignorant that you cannot see when a girl's heart is breaking beneath her stays?"


This almost improper allusion had quite an effect on Mr. Cheesacre's sensitive bosom.


And if not, why have you said so many words before?"


But it is time that we should go back to them."

"But it is time that we should go back to them.


They had been sitting all this time on a bank, under a hedge.


"We will have our tea, and you shall have your pipe and brandy-and-water, and Charlie shall bring it to you.


"Do you ask her, and she'll like it it quick enough.


"But remember, Mr. Cheesacre, I'm quite serious in what I say about your having a mistress for your house.


Only think what an age you'll be when your children grow up, if you don't marry soon now."

Only think what an age you'll be when your children grow up, if you don't marry soon."


They returned to the field in which they had dined, and found Charlie under the trees, with her muslin looking very fresh.


Charlie did not quite understand this, but replied that she preferred being alone.


"I have told him that you should fill his pipe for him," said Mrs. Greenow.


"He doesn't care for ladies to fill his pipe for him," said Charlie.


"Do you try," said the widow, "while I go indoors and order the tea."

"Try," said the widow, "while I go indoors and order the tea."


It had been necessary to put the bait very close before Cheesacre's eyes, or there would have been no hope that he might take it.


The bait had been put so very close that we must feel sure that he saw the hook.


But there are fish so silly that they will take the bait although they know the hook is there.


Many things he could not see, but he could see that Mrs. Greenow was trying to catch him as a husband for Charlie Fairstairs; and he knew also that he had always despised Charlie, and that no worldly advantage whatever would accrue to him by a marriage with such a girl.

He could see that Mrs. Greenow was trying to catch him as a husband for Charlie Fairstairs; and he knew also that he had always despised Charlie, and that no worldly advantage whatever would accrue to him by a marriage with such a girl.


But there she was, and he didn't quite know how to avoid it.


She did look rather nice in her clear-starched muslin frock, and he felt that he should like to kiss her.

She did look rather nice in her muslin frock, and he felt that he should like to kiss her.


He needn't marry her because he kissed her.


The champagne which had created the desire also gave him the audacity.


He gave one glance around him to see that he was not observed, and then he did kiss Charlie Fairstairs under the trees.


"Oh, Mr. Cheesacre," echoed a laughing voice; and poor Cheesacre, looking round, saw that Mrs. Greenow, who ought to have been inside the house looking after the boiling water, was moving about for some unknown reason within sight of the spot which he had chosen for his dalliance.

"Oh, Mr. Cheesacre," echoed a laughing voice; and poor Cheesacre, looking round, saw that Mrs. Greenow, who ought to have been inside the house looking after the boiling water, was for some reason quite close by.


"Mr. Cheesacre," said Charlie sobbing, "how dare you do that?--and where all the world could see you?"

"Mr. Cheesacre," said Charlie sobbing, "how dare you do that? - where all the world could see you?"


"It was only Mrs. Greenow," said Cheesacre.


"Lord bless you--she won't think anything about it."

"Lord bless you - she won't think anything about it."


"But I do;--I think a great deal about it.

"But I do; I think a great deal about it.


I don't know what to do, I don't;--I don't."


Whereupon Charlie got up from her seat under the trees and began to move away slowly.


Cheesacre thought about it for a moment or two.


He knew that he had better not follow her.


He knew that she was bait with a very visible hook.


He knew that he was a big fish for whom these two women were angling.


But after all, perhaps it wouldn't do him much harm to be caught.


I don't suppose she meant to take the way towards the woods,--towards the little path leading to the old summer-house up in the trees. She was too much beside herself to know where she was going, no doubt.

I don't suppose she meant to take the way towards the woods and the old summer-house: she was too much beside herself to know where she was going, no doubt.


But that was the path she did take, and before long she and Cheesacre were in the summerhouse together.


'Twas thus she spoke when the last kiss was given on this occasion;--unless there may have been one or two later in the evening, to which it is not necessary more especially to allude here.

'Twas thus she spoke when the last kiss was given; unless there may have been one or two later in the evening, to which it is not necessary to allude here.


But on the occasion of that last kiss in the summer-house Miss Fairstairs was perfectly justified by circumstances, for she was then the promised bride of Mr. Cheesacre.

But by the time of that last kiss in the summer-house Miss Fairstairs was the promised bride of Mr. Cheesacre.


But how was he to get down again among his friends? That consideration troubled Mr. Cheesacre as he rose from his happy seat after that last embrace.

However, Mr. Cheesacre was troubled as he rose from his happy seat after that last embrace. How would he tell his friends?


He had promised Charlie, and perhaps he would keep his promise, but it might be as well not to make it all too public at once.


But Charlie wasn't going to be thrown over;--not if she knew it, as she said to herself.

But Charlie wasn't going to be thrown over.


She returned therefore triumphantly among them all,--blushing indeed, and with her eyes turned away, and her hand now remained upon her lover's arm;--but still so close to him that there could be no mistake.

She returned therefore triumphantly among them all, blushing indeed, and with her hand upon her lover's arm; but so close to him that there could be no mistake.


"We got up into the woods and lost ourselves," said Charlie.


It would be too long to tell now, in these last pages of our story, how Cheesacre strove to escape, and with what skill Mrs. Greenow kept him to his bargain.


I hope that Charlie Fairstairs was duly grateful.


Before that evening was over, under the comfortable influence of a glass of hot brandy-and-water,--the widow had, I think, herself mixed the second glass for Mr. Cheesacre, before the influence became sufficiently comfortable,--he was forced to own that he had made himself the happy possessor of Charlie Fairstairs' heart and hand.

Before that evening was over, under the comfortable influence of a glass of hot brandy-and-water, he was forced to confess that he had made himself the happy possessor of Charlie Fairstairs' heart and hand.


"And you are a lucky man," said the widow with enthusiasm; "and I congratulate you with all my heart.


Don't let there be any delay now, because a good thing can't be done too soon."


And indeed, before that night was over, Mrs. Greenow had the pair together in her own presence, and then fixed the day.

And indeed, before that night was over, Mrs. Greenow had fixed the day.


"A fellow ought to be allowed to turn himself," Cheesacre said to her, pleading for himself in a whisper.


But no; Mrs. Greenow would give him no such mercy.


She knew to what a man turning himself might probably lead.


She was a woman who was quite in earnest when she went to work, and I hope that Miss Fairstairs was grateful.


Then, in that presence, was in truth the last kiss given on that eventful evening.

Then, in her presence, the last kiss on that eventful evening was given.


He's as good as your own now," said the widow.


"It's to be as soon as ever we come back from our trip," said Mrs. Greenow to Kate, the next day, "and I'm lending her money to get all her things at once.

Mrs. Greenow said to Kate, the next day, "I'm lending her money to get all her things.


He shall come to the scratch, though I go all the way to Norfolk by myself and fetch him by his ears.

He shall come to the scratch, if I have to go all the way to Norfolk and fetch him by his ears."


He shall come, as sure as my name's Greenow,--or Bellfield, as it will be then, you know."


"And I shouldn't wonder if she did have to go to Norfolk," said Kate to her cousin.


That event, however, cannot be absolutely concluded in these pages.


I can only say that, when I think of Mrs. Greenow's force of character and warmth of friendship, I feel that Miss Fairstairs' prospects stand on good ground.

I can only say that, when I think of Mrs. Greenow's force of character and warmth of friendship, I feel that Miss Fairstairs' prospects are good.


Mrs. Greenow's own marriage was completed with perfect success.

Mrs. Greenow's own marriage was completed.


She took Captain Bellfield for better or for worse, with a thorough determination to make the best of his worst, and to put him on his legs, if any such putting might be possible.

She took Captain Bellfield for better or for worse, with a thorough determination to make the best of his worst.


If any possible stroke of fortune could do him good, he had found that stroke.


He had found a wife who could forgive all his past offences,--and also, if necessary, some future offences; who had money enough for all his wants, and kindness enough to gratify them, and who had, moreover,--which for the Captain was the most important,--strength enough to keep from him the power of ruining them both.

He had found a wife who could forgive all his past offences - and also, if necessary, some future ones; who had money enough for all his wants, and kindness enough to gratify them, and who had, most importantly, strength enough to keep him from ruining them both.


Reader, let us wish a happy married life to Captain and Mrs. Bellfield!


The day after the ceremony Alice Vavasor and Kate Vavasor started for Matching Priory.

The day after the ceremony Alice and Kate started for Matching Priory.


I am inclined to think that Mr. Palliser did not much enjoy this part of his tour abroad.


When he first reached Lucerne there was no one there with whom he could associate pleasantly, nor had he any occupation capable of making his time run easily.

When he first reached Lucerne there was no one with whom he could associate pleasantly, nor had he any occupation to pass his time.


Close at his elbow was the finest to be had in Europe; but it was nothing to him.


Had he been simply journeying through Lucerne at the proper time of the year for such a journey, when the business of the Session was over, and a little change of air needed, he could have enjoyed the thing in a moderate way, looking about him, passing on, and knowing that it was good for him to be there at that moment.

Had he been simply journeying through Lucerne when the business of Parliament was over, for a little change of air, he could have enjoyed the thing in a moderate way.


But he had none of that passion for mountains and lakes, none of that positive joy in the heather, which would have compensated many another man for the loss of all that Mr. Palliser was losing.

But he had no passion for mountains and lakes.


His mind was ever at home in the House of Commons, or in that august assembly which men call the Cabinet, and of the meetings of which he read from week to week the simple records.

His mind was always in the House of Commons, or the Cabinet, and in the meetings of which he read from week to week.


Therein were mentioned the names of those heroes to whom Fortune had been so much kinder than she had been to him; and he envied them.


He took short, solitary walks, about the town, over the bridges, and along the rivers, making to himself the speeches which he would have made to full houses, had not his wife brought ruin upon all his hopes.

He took short, solitary walks about the town, making to himself the speeches which he would have made to full houses, had not his wife brought ruin upon all his hopes.


And as he pictured to himself the glorious successes which probably never would have been his had he remained in London, so did he prophesy to himself an absolute and irremediable downfall from all political power as the result of his absence,--having, in truth, no sufficient cause for such despair.

And as he pictured to himself the glorious successes which probably never would have been his, so did he prophesy an absolute downfall from all political power as the result of his absence - having, in truth, no cause for such despair.


As yet, he was barely thirty, and had he been able to judge his own case as keenly as he could have judged the case of another, he would have known that a short absence might probably raise his value in the estimation of others rather than lower it.

He was barely thirty, and if he had been able to judge his own case as keenly as he could have judged the case of another, he would have known that a short absence might raise his value rather than lower it.


But his personal annoyance was too great to allow of his making such calculations aright.

But his personal annoyance was too great to allow him to make such calculations aright.


So he became fretful and unhappy; and though he spoke no word of rebuke to his wife, though he never hinted that she had robbed him of his glories, he made her conscious by his manner that she had brought him to this miserable condition.

So he became fretful and unhappy; and though he spoke no word of rebuke to his wife, he made her conscious that she had brought him to this miserable condition.


Lady Glencora herself had a love for the mountains and lakes, but it was a love of that kind which requires to be stimulated by society, and which is keenest among cold chickens, picnic-pies, and the flying of champagne corks.

Lady Glencora herself had a love for the mountains and lakes, but it was a love of that kind which needs to be stimulated by society, and which is keenest among cold chickens, picnic-pies, and the flying of champagne corks.


When they first entered Switzerland she was very enthusiastic, and declared her intention of climbing up all the mountains, and going through all the passes.


She endeavoured to induce her husband to promise that she should be taken up Mont Blanc.


And I think she would have carried this on, and would have been taken up Mont Blanc, had Mr. Palliser's aspirations been congenial. But they were not congenial, and Lady Glencora soon lost all her enthusiasm.

But Mr. Palliser did not share her aspirations, and Lady Glencora soon lost her enthusiasm.


By the time that they were settled at Lucerne she had voted the mountains to be bores, and had almost learned to hate the lake, which she declared always made her wet through when she got into a small boat, and sea-sick when she put her foot in a large one.

By the time that they were settled at Lucerne she had voted the mountains to be bores, and had almost learned to hate the lake, which she declared always made her wet through when she got into a small boat, and sea-sick in a large one.


At Lucerne they made no acquaintances, Mr. Palliser being a man not apt to new friendships.

At Lucerne they made no acquaintances, Mr. Palliser being a man not apt to make new friendships.


They did not even dine at the public table, though Lady Glencora had expressed a wish to do so. Mr. Palliser did not like it, and of course Lady Glencora gave way.

They did not even dine at the public table, because Mr. Palliser did not like it, and of course Lady Glencora gave way.


There were, moreover, some marital passages which were not pleasant to a third person.


They did not scold each other; but Lady Glencora would make little speeches of which her husband disapproved. She would purposely irritate him by continuing her tone of badinage, and then Mr. Palliser would become fretful, and would look as though the cares of the world were too many for him.

They did not scold each other; but Lady Glencora would purposely irritate her husband by her flippant tone, and then Mr. Palliser would become fretful, and would look as though the cares of the world were too many for him.


I cannot, therefore, say that Alice had much to make the first period of her sojourn at Lucerne a period of enjoyment.

I cannot, therefore, say that Alice had much enjoyment at this time.


But when they had been there about a fortnight, a stranger arrived, whose coming at any rate lent the grace of some excitement to their lives.

But when they had been there about a fortnight, a stranger arrived, whose coming at any rate lent some excitement to their lives.


Their custom was to breakfast at nine,--or as near nine as Lady Glencora could be induced to appear,--and then Mr. Palliser would read till three.

They usually breakfasted at nine, and then Mr. Palliser would read till three.


At that hour he would walk forth by himself, after having handed the two ladies into their carriage, and they would be driven about for two hours.

At that hour he would walk forth by himself, after handing the two ladies into their carriage, and they would be driven about for two hours.


"How I do hate this carriage," Lady Glencora said one day.

"How I hate this carriage," Lady Glencora said one day.


"I do so wish it would come to grief, and be broken to pieces.


"I wonder whether the Swiss people think that we are going to be driven about here for ever."


There were moments, however, which seemed to indicate that Lady Glencora had something to tell her cousin, which, if told, would alter the monotony of their lives.

At some moments, it seemed that Lady Glencora had something to tell her cousin.


Alice, however, would not press her for her secret.


"If you have anything to tell, why don't you tell it?"


"So you tell me very often," Alice replied; "and it is not complimentary.


But hard or soft, I won't make a petition for your confidence."

"But hard or soft, I won't beg for your confidence."


Then Lady Glencora said something savage, and the subject was dropped for a while.


Mr. Palliser had put the ladies into their carriage, and was standing between the front door of the hotel and the lake on a certain day, doubting whether he would walk up the hill to the left or turn into the town on the right, when he was accosted by an English gentleman, who, raising his hat, said that he believed that he spoke to Mr. Palliser.

One day Mr. Palliser had put the ladies into their carriage, and was standing by the front door of the hotel, wondering whether to walk up the hill to the left or turn into the town on the right, when he was accosted by an English gentleman, who, raising his hat, said that he believed that he spoke to Mr. Palliser.


"I am Mr. Palliser," said our friend, very courteously, returning the salute, and smiling as he spoke.

"I am Mr. Palliser," said our friend, very courteously.


But though he smiled, and though he was courteous, and though he raised his hat, there was something in his look and voice which would not have encouraged any ordinary stranger to persevere.

But though he smiled and raised his hat, there was something in his look and voice which would not have encouraged any ordinary stranger to persevere.


Mr. Palliser was not a man with whom it was easy to open an acquaintance.


"My name is John Grey," said the stranger.


Then the smile was dropped, the look of extreme courtesy disappeared, the tone of Mr. Palliser's voice was altered, and he put out his hand.

Then the smile was dropped, the tone of Mr. Palliser's voice was altered, and he put out his hand.


He knew enough of Mr. John Grey's history to be aware that Mr. John Grey was a man with whom he might permit himself to become acquainted.

He knew enough of Mr. John Grey's history to be aware that he was a man with whom he might permit himself to become acquainted.


After the interchange of a very few words, the two men started off for a walk together.

After exchanging a few words, the two men started off for a walk together.


"Perhaps you don't wish to meet the carriage?"


"If so, we had better go through the town and up the river."


They went through the town, and up the river, and when Mr. Palliser, on his return, was seen by Alice and Lady Glencora, he was alone.

They went through the town, and up the river, where they would not meet the ladies' carriage, and when Mr. Palliser returned, he was alone.


They dined together, and nothing was said.

The three dined together, and nothing was said.


Together they sauntered out in the evening, and together came in and drank their tea; but still nothing was said.

Together they sauntered out in the evening, and came in and drank their tea; but still nothing was said.


At last, Alice and her cousin took their candles from Mr. Palliser's hands and left the sitting-room for the night.

At last, Alice and her cousin took their candles and left the sitting-room for the night.


"Alice," said Lady Glencora, as soon as they were in the passage together, "I have been dying for this time to come.

"Alice," said Lady Glencora, as soon as they were in the passage together, "I have been dying to say something.


I could not speak before, or I should have made blunders, and so would you.


Who do you think is here, at Lucerne, in this house, at this very moment?"

Who do you think is here, at Lucerne, in this hotel, at this very moment?"


Alice knew at once who it was. She knew, immediately, that Mr. Grey had followed her, though no word had been written to her or spoken to her on the subject since that day on which he himself had told her that they would meet abroad.

Alice knew, immediately, that Mr. Grey had followed her, though she had heard no word since that day on which he had told her that they would meet abroad.


But though she was quite sure, she did not mention his name.


"Whom in all the world would you best like to see?"


"My cousin Kate, certainly," said Alice.


And I don't believe you;--or else you're a fool."


Alice was accustomed to Lady Glencora's mode of talking, and therefore did not think much of this.


But I am not at all so sure as to your being no hypocrite.


The person I mean is a gentleman, of course.


Why don't you show a little excitement, at any rate?


When Plantagenet told me, just before dinner, I almost jumped out of my shoes.


He was going to tell you himself after dinner, in the politest way in the world, no doubt, and just as the servants were carrying away the apples. I thought it best to save you from that; but, I declare, I believe I might have left him to do it; it would have had no effect upon you.

He was going to tell you himself after dinner, but I thought it best to save you from that.


Who is it that has come, do you suppose?"


"Of course I know now," said Alice, very calmly, "that Mr. John Grey has come."


He is here in this house at this minute;--or, more probably, waiting outside by the lake till he shall see a light in your bedroom."

"Yes, he is in this house; or, more probably, waiting outside by the lake till he shall see a light in your bedroom."


Then Lady Glencora paused for a moment, waiting that Alice might say something.


said Lady Glencora, rising up from her chair.


Is it the same to you as though Mr. Smith had come?"


I am quite alive to the importance of Mr. Grey's arrival, and shall probably lie awake all night thinking about it,--if it will do you any good to know that; but I don't feel that I have much to say about it."

"I am quite aware of the importance of Mr. Grey's arrival, and shall probably lie awake all night thinking about it; but I don't feel that I have much to say about it."


"I wish I had let Mr. Palliser tell you, in an ordinary way, before all the servants.

"I wish I had let Mr. Palliser tell you before all the servants.


"It would not have made much difference."


I wonder whether you ever did care for anybody in your life,--for him, or for that other one, or for anybody. For nobody, I believe;--except your cousin Kate.

I wonder whether you ever did care for anybody in your life - except your cousin Kate.


Still waters, they say, run deep; and sometimes I think your waters run too deep for me to fathom.

Still waters run deep; and sometimes I think your waters run too deep for me to fathom.


I suppose I may go now, if you have got nothing more to say?"


"And you have never said a word about it."


"He told me he should come, and I thought it better not to say a word about it.


He might change his mind, or anything might happen.


I told him not to come; and it would have been much better that he should have remained away."

I told him not to come; and it would have been much better if he had stayed away."


"Because his being here will do no good to any one."

"Because his being here will do no good to anyone."


It seems to me impossible but that it should do all the good in the world.


If you do not altogether make it up with him before to-morrow evening, I shall believe you to be utterly heartless.

If you do not make it up with him before tomorrow evening, I shall believe you to be utterly heartless.


Had I been you I should have been in his arms before this.


I'll go now, and leave you to lie awake, as you say you will."

I'll go now, and leave you to lie awake."


Then she left the room, but returned in a moment to ask another question. "What is Plantagenet to say to him about seeing you to-morrow?

Then she left the room, but returned in a moment to ask, "What is Plantagenet to say to him about seeing you tomorrow?


Of course he has asked permission to come and call."


You don't think I have quarrelled with him, or would refuse to see him!"


"And make up a picnic, and all the rest of it.


In fact, he is to be regarded as only an ordinary person.

"In fact, he is to be regarded as an ordinary person.


It may be doubted whether Alice understood herself.


As soon as her friend was gone, she put out her candle and seated herself at the open window of her room, looking out upon the moonlight as it played upon the lake.

As soon as her friend was gone, she put out her candle and sat at the open window of her room, looking out upon the moonlight as it played upon the lake.


Would he be there, thinking of her, looking up, perhaps, as Glencora had hinted, to see if he could distinguish her light among the hundred that would be flickering across the long front of the house.

Would he be there, thinking of her, as Glencora had hinted?


If it were so, at any rate he should not see her, so she drew the curtain, and sat there watching the lake.

If it were so, he should not see her, so she drew the curtain.


It was a pity that he should have come, and yet she loved him dearly for coming. It was a pity that he should have come, as his coming could lead to no good result.

It was a pity that he should have come, as his coming could lead to no good result; and yet she loved him dearly for coming.


Of this she assured herself over and over again, and yet she hardly knew why she was so sure of it.


Glencora had called her hard; but her conviction on that matter had not come from hardness.


Now that she was alone, her heart was full of love, of the soft romance of love towards this man; and yet she felt that she ought not to marry him, even though he might still be willing to take her.

Now that she was alone, her heart was full of love towards this man; and yet she felt that she ought not to marry him, even though he might still be willing to take her.


That he was still willing to take her, that he desired to have her for his wife in spite of all the injury she had done him, there could be no doubt.

There could be no doubt that he was still willing.


Why else had he followed her to Switzerland?


And she remembered, now at this moment, how he had told her at Cheltenham that he would never consider her to be lost to him, unless she should, in truth, become the wife of another man.


Why, then, should it not be as he wished it?


She asked herself the question, and did not answer it; but still she felt that it might not be so. She had no right to such happiness after the evil that she had done.

She asked herself the question, and did not answer it; but she felt she had no right to such happiness after the evil that she had done.


She had been driven by a frenzy to do that which she herself could not pardon; and having done it, she could not bring herself to accept the position which should have been the reward of good conduct.

She had been driven by a frenzy to do something which she herself could not pardon; and she could not bring herself to accept a reward.


She could not analyse the causes which made her feel that she must still refuse the love that was proffered to her; she could not clearly read her own thoughts; but the causes were as I have said, and such was the true reading of her thoughts.


Had she simply refused his hand after she had once accepted it,--had she refused it, and then again changed her mind, she could have brought herself to ask him to forgive her.

If she had simply refused his hand, she could have brought herself to ask him to forgive her.


But she had done so much more than this, and so much worse!


She had affianced herself to another man since she had belonged to him,--since she had been his, as his future wife.

She had affianced herself to another man.


What must he not think of her, and what not suspect?


Then she remembered those interviews which she had had with her cousin since she had written to him, accepting his offer.

Then she remembered those interviews with George Vavasor in Queen Anne Street.


When he had been with her in Queen Anne Street she had shrunk from all outward signs of a love which she did not feel.


There had been no caress between them. She had not allowed him to touch her with his lips.


But it was impossible that the nature of that mad engagement between her and her cousin George should ever be made known to Mr. Grey.


She sat there wiping the tears from her eyes as she looked for his figure among the figures by the lake-side; but, as she sat there, she promised herself no happiness from his coming.

She sat there wiping the tears from her eyes as she looked for his figure among the figures by the lake-side; but she promised herself no happiness from his coming.


reader, can you forgive her in that she had sinned against the softness of her feminine nature?

reader, can you forgive her for sinning against the softness of her feminine nature?


I think that she may be forgiven, in that she had never brought herself to think lightly of her own fault.

I think that she may be forgiven, in that she never thought lightly of her own fault.


If he were there, by the lake-side, she did not see him.


I think we may say that John Grey was not a man to console himself in his love by looking up at his lady's candle.

John Grey was not a man to console himself by looking up at his lady's candle.


He was one who was capable of doing as much as most men in the pursuit of his love,--as he proved to be the case when he followed Alice to Cheltenham, and again to London, and now again to Lucerne; but I doubt whether a glimmer from her bedroom-window, had it been unmistakably her own glimmer, and not that of some ugly old French woman who might chance to sleep next to her, would have done him much good.


He had come to Lucerne with a purpose, which purpose, if it might be possible, he meant to carry out; but I think he was already in bed, being tired with long travel, before Lady Glencora had left Alice's room.

He had come to Lucerne with a purpose, which, if possible, he meant to carry out; but he was already in bed, tired with long travel, before Lady Glencora had left Alice's room.


At breakfast the next morning nothing was said for a while about the new arrival. At last Mr. Palliser ventured to speak.

At breakfast the next morning, Mr. Palliser ventured to speak.


"Glencora has told you, I think, that Mr. Grey is here?


Mr. Grey is an old friend of yours, I believe?"

He is an old friend of yours, I believe?"


Alice, keeping her countenance as well as she was able, said Mr. Grey had been, and, indeed, was, a very dear friend of hers.

Alice, remaining as composed as she could, said Mr. Grey was a very dear friend of hers.


Mr. Palliser knew the whole story, and what was the use of any little attempt at dissimulation?


"I shall be glad to see him,--if you will allow me?" she went on to say.

"I shall be glad to see him - if you will allow me?" she added.


"Glencora suggests that we should ask him to dinner," said Mr. Palliser; and then that matter was settled.

"Glencora suggests that we should ask him to dinner," said Mr. Palliser.


But Mr. Grey did not wait till dinner-time to see Alice.


Early in the morning his card was brought up, and Lady Glencora, as soon as she saw the name, immediately ran away.

Early in the morning his card was brought up, and Lady Glencora, as soon as she saw the name, ran away.


"I know what's proper on these occasions, if you don't."


So she went, whisking herself along the passages with a little run; and Mr. Grey, as he was shown into her ladyship's usual sitting-room, saw the skirt of her ladyship's dress as she whisked herself off towards her husband.

Mr. Grey, when he was shown into her ladyship's sitting-room, saw the skirt of her ladyship's dress as she whisked herself off to her husband.


"I told you I should come," he said, with his ordinary sweet smile.


"I told you that I should follow you, and here I am."


He took her hand, and held it, pressing it warmly.


She hardly knew with what words first to address him, or how to get her hand back from him.

She hardly knew how to address him, or how to get her hand back.


"I am very glad to see you,--as an old friend," she said; "but I hope--"

"I am very glad to see you - as an old friend," she said; "but I hope-"


"I hope you have had some better cause for travelling than a desire to see me?"


I have had no better cause, and, indeed, none other.


I have come on purpose to see you; and had Mr. Palliser taken you off to Asia or Africa, I think I should have felt myself compelled to follow him.

I have come on purpose to see you; and if Mr. Palliser had taken you off to Africa, I should have felt compelled to follow.


"Hardly," said she,--not finding at the moment any other word that she could say.

"Hardly," said she - not finding any other word to say.


You see what a plain-spoken John Bull I am, and how I come to the point at once.


I want you to be my wife; and they say that perseverance is the best way when a man has such a want as that."


"You ought not to want it," she said, whispering the words as though she were unable to speak them out loud.

"You ought not to want it," she said, whispering.


You have to make up your mind whether I am fit to be your husband."


"You would be disgraced if you were to take me, after all that has passed;--after what I have done.

"You would be disgraced if you were to take me, after what I have done.


What would other men say of you when they knew the story?"


"Other men, I hope, would be just enough to say, that when I had made up my mind, I was tolerably constant in keeping to it.

"Other men, I hope, would say that when I had made up my mind, I was tolerably constant in keeping to it.


I do not think they could say much worse of me than that."


"They would say that you had been jilted, and had forgiven the jilt."


"As far as the forgiveness goes, they would tell the truth.


But, indeed, Alice, I don't very much care what men do say of me."


"But I care, Mr. Grey;--and though you may forgive me, I cannot forgive myself.

"But I care, Mr. Grey; and though you may forgive me, I cannot forgive myself.


Indeed I know now, as I have known all along, that I am not fit to be your wife.


And I have done that which makes me feel that I have no right to marry anyone."


These words she said, jerking out the different sentences almost in convulsions; and when she had come to the end of them, the tears were streaming down her cheeks.

She said this, jerking out the sentences almost in convulsions; the tears were streaming down her cheeks.


"I have thought about it, and I will not.


After what has passed, I know that it will be better,--more seemly, that I should remain as I am."

After what has passed, I know that it will be better - that I should remain as I am."


Soon after that she left him, not, however, till she had told him that she would meet him again at dinner, and had begged him to treat her simply as a friend.

Soon after that she left him; not, however, till she had begged him to treat her simply as a friend.


"In spite of everything, I hope that we may always be friends,--dear friends," she said.

"In spite of everything, I hope that we may always be dear friends," she said.


"I hope we may," he answered;--"the very dearest."

"I hope we may," he answered; "the very dearest."


In the afternoon he again encountered Mr. Palliser, and having thought over the matter since his interview with Alice, he resolved to tell his whole story to his new acquaintance,--not in order that he might ask for counsel from him, for in this matter he wanted no man's advice,--but that he might get some assistance.

In the afternoon he again met Mr. Palliser, and resolved to tell his whole story to his new acquaintance - not in order to ask for advice, but so that he might get some assistance.


So the two men walked off together, up the banks of the clear-flowing Reuss, and Mr. Palliser felt the comfort of having a companion.

So the two men walked off together, and Mr. Palliser felt the comfort of having a companion.


"I have always liked her," said Mr. Palliser, "though, to tell the truth, I have twice been very angry with her."


"I have never been angry with her," said the lover.


"And my anger was in both instances unjust.


You may imagine how great is my confidence in her, when I have thought she was the best companion my wife could have for a long journey, taken under circumstances that were--that were--; but I need not trouble you with that."

You may imagine how great is my confidence in her, when I have thought she was the best companion my wife could have for a long journey, under circumstances that were - but I need not trouble you with that."


So great had been the desolation of Mr. Palliser's life since his banishment from London that he almost felt tempted to tell the story of his troubles to this absolute stranger.


But he bethought himself of the blood of the Pallisers, and refrained.

But he thought of the blood of the Pallisers, and refrained.


There are comforts which royalty may never enjoy, and luxuries in which such men as Plantagenet Palliser may not permit themselves to indulge.


"About her and her character I have no doubt in the world," said Grey.

"About her character I have no doubt in the world," said Grey.


"In all that she has done I think that I have seen her motives; and though I have not approved of them, I have always known them to be pure and unselfish.


She has done nothing that I did not forgive as soon as it was done.


Had she married that man, I should have forgiven her even that,--though I should have known that all her future life was destroyed, and much of mine also.

If she had married that man, I should have forgiven her even that - though I should have known that all her future life was destroyed, and much of mine also.


I think I can make her happy if she will marry me, but she must first be taught to forgive herself.


Living as she is with you, and with your wife, she may, perhaps, just now be more under your influence and your wife's than she can possibly be under mine."

Just now, she may, perhaps, be more under your influence and your wife's than she can be under mine."


Whereupon, Mr. Palliser promised that he would do what he could.


Mr. Palliser said that he was sure she did, though what ground he had for such assurance I am quite unable to surmise. He was probably desirous of saying the most civil thing which occurred to him.

Mr. Palliser said that he was sure she did, though he had no way of knowing, and said it merely to be civil.


The little dinner-party that evening was pleasant enough, and nothing more was said about love.

The little dinner-party that evening was pleasant enough, and nothing was said about love.


Lady Glencora talked nonsense to Mr. Grey, and Mr. Palliser contradicted all the nonsense which his wife talked.


But this was all done in such a way that the evening passed away pleasantly.

But this was done in such a way that the evening passed away pleasantly.


It was tacitly admitted among them that Mr. Grey was to be allowed to come among them as a friend, and Lady Glencora managed to say one word to him aside, in which she promised to give him her most cordial cooperation.


said the widow, "there's a carriage coming on the road--close to us."


Mrs. Greenow, as she spoke these words, drew back from the Captain's arms before the first kiss of permitted ante-nuptial love had been exchanged.

Mrs. Greenow, as she spoke, drew back from the Captain's arms.


The scene was on the high road from Shap to Vavasor, and as she was still dressed in all the sombre habiliments of early widowhood, and as neither he nor his sweetheart were under forty, perhaps it was as well that they were not caught toying together in so very public a place. But they were only just in time to escape the vigilant eyes of a new visitor.

They were on the high road to Shap, and as she was still dressed in mourning, and as neither of them were under forty, perhaps it was as well to escape the vigilant eyes of a new visitor.


Round the corner of the road, at a sharp trot, came the Shap post-horse, with the Shap gig behind him,--the same gig which had brought Bellfield to Vavasor on the previous day,--and seated in the gig, looming large, with his eyes wide awake to everything round him, was--Mr. Cheesacre.

Round the corner of the road, at a sharp trot, came the Shap post-horse, with the Shap gig behind him - and seated in the gig, looming large, and staring around, was - Mr. Cheesacre.


It was a sight terrible to the eyes of Captain Bellfield, and by no means welcome to those of Mrs. Greenow.

It was a sight terrible to Captain Bellfield, and by no means welcome to Mrs. Greenow.


As regarded her, her annoyance had chiefly reference to her two nieces, and especially to Alice.

Her annoyance was chiefly because of Alice.


How was she to account for this second lover?


Kate, of course, knew all about it; but how could Alice be made to understand that she, Mrs. Greenow, was not to blame,--that she had, in sober truth, told this ardent gentleman that there was no hope for him?

Kate, of course, knew all about it; but how could Alice be made aware that Mrs. Greenow was not to blame? She had told this ardent gentleman that there was no hope for him.


And even as to Kate,--Kate, whom her aunt had absurdly chosen to regard as the object of Mr. Cheesacre's pursuit,--what sort of a welcome would she extend to the owner of Oileymead?


Before the wheels had stopped, Mrs. Greenow had begun to reflect whether it might be possible that she should send Mr. Cheesacre back without letting him go on to the Hall; but if Mrs. Greenow was dismayed, what were the feelings of the Captain?

And if Mrs. Greenow was dismayed, what were the Captain's feelings?


For he was aware that Cheesacre knew that of him which he had not told.

For he was aware that Cheesacre knew things about him which he had not told.


How ardently did he now wish that he had sailed nearer to the truth in giving in the schedule of his debts to Mrs. Greenow.

Now he wished ardently that he had sailed nearer to the truth in listing his debts to Mrs. Greenow.


"That man's wanted by the police," said Cheesacre, speaking while the gig was still in motion. "He's wanted by the police, Mrs. Greenow," and in his ardour he stood up in the gig and pointed at Bellfield.

"That man's wanted by the police," said Cheesacre, speaking while the gig was still in motion; and he stood up in the gig and pointed at Bellfield.


Then the gig stopped suddenly, and he fell back into his seat in his effort to prevent his falling forward.

The gig stopped suddenly, and he fell back into his seat.


"He's wanted by the police," he shouted out again, as soon as he was able to recover his voice.

"He's wanted by the police," he shouted out again.


Mrs. Greenow turned pale beneath the widow's veil which she had dropped.


He might have procured things, to be sent to him, out of shops on false pretences; or, urged on by want and famine, he might have committed--forgery.

He might have ordered things from shops on false pretences; he might have committed forgery.


she said, and dropped her hand from his arm, which she had taken.


"I'll indict you for slander, my friend," said Bellfield.

"I'll sue you for slander, my friend," said Bellfield.


"Pay me the money you owe me," said Cheesacre.


Mrs. Greenow cared little as to her lover being a swindler in Mr. Cheesacre's estimation.

Mrs. Greenow cared little about her lover being a swindler in Mr. Cheesacre's eyes.


Such accusations from him she had heard before.

She had heard such accusations from him before.


But she did care very much as to this mission of the police against her Captain.

But she did care very much about the police.


If that were true, the Captain could be her Captain no longer.


"What is this I hear, Captain Bellfield?"


He merely wants to make a quarrel between us.


What police are after me, Mr. Cheesacre?"


"It's the police, or the sheriff's officer, or something of the kind," said Cheesacre.

"It's the sheriff's officer, or something of the kind," said Cheesacre.


exclaimed Mrs. Greenow, in a tone of voice which showed how great had been her relief.

exclaimed Mrs. Greenow, in a tone of relief.


"Mr. Cheesacre, you shouldn't come and say such things;--you shouldn't, indeed.

"Mr. Cheesacre, you shouldn't come and say such things.


Sheriff's officers can be paid, and there's an end of them."


"I'll indict him for the libel--I will, as sure as I'm alive," said Bellfield.

"I'll sue him for libel - I will," said Bellfield.


When men can't pay their way they must put up with having things like that said of them.

When men can't pay their way they must put up with having things like that said about them.


"I was going to Vavasor Hall, on purpose to caution you."

"I was going to Vavasor Hall, to warn you."


"It's too late," said Mrs. Greenow, sinking behind her veil.


"Why, you haven't been and married him since yesterday?


He only had twenty-four hours' start of me, I know.

He only had twenty-four hours' start of me!


Or, perhaps, you had it done clandestine in Norwich?


He got out of the gig, and the three walked back towards the Hall together, while the boy drove on with Mr. Cheesacre's carpetbag.


"I hardly know," said Mrs. Greenow, "whether we can welcome you.


There are other visitors, and the house is full."


"I'm not one to intrude where I'm not wanted.


If I can't get my supper for love, I can get at for money.


I wonder when you're going to pay me what you owe me, Lieutenant Bellfield?"


[Illustration: "I wonder when you're going to pay me what you owe me, Lieutenant Bellfield?"]


Nevertheless, the widow had contrived to reconcile the two men before she reached the Hall.

Nevertheless, the widow had managed to reconcile the two men before she reached the Hall.


They had actually shaken hands, and the lamb Cheesacre had agreed to lie down with the wolf Bellfield.


Cheesacre, moreover, had contrived to whisper into the widow's ears the true extent of his errand into Westmoreland. This, however, he did not do altogether in Bellfield's hearing.

Cheesacre, moreover, had whispered into the widow's ears the true extent of his errand into Westmorland - but not in Bellfield's hearing.


When Mrs. Greenow ascertained that there was something to be said, she made no scruple in sending her betrothed away from her "You won't throw a fellow over, will you, now?" whispered Bellfield into her ear as he went. She merely frowned at him, and bade him begone, so that the walk which Mrs. Greenow began with one lover she ended in company with the other.
Bellfield, who was sent on to the house, found Alice and Kate surveying the newly arrived carpet bag.

When Mrs. Greenow ascertained that there was something to be said, she sent her betrothed away into the house.
There, Bellfield found Alice and Kate surveying the newly arrived carpet bag.


"He knows 'un," said the boy who had driven the gig, pointing to the Captain.


"It belongs to your old friend, Mr. Cheesacre," said Bellfield to Kate.


The Captain shrugged his shoulders, and admitted that it was hard.


"And it's not the slightest use," said he, "not the least in the world.

"And it's not the slightest use," said he.


"Not enough of the rocks and valleys about him, was there, Captain Bellfield?"


But Captain Bellfield understood nothing about the rocks and valleys, though he was regarded by certain eyes as being both a rock and a valley himself.


In the meantime Cheesacre was telling his story.


He first asked, in a melancholy tone, whether it was really necessary that he must abandon all his hopes.


"He wasn't going to say anything against the Captain," he said, "if things were really fixed.

He wasn't going to say anything against the Captain, he told Mrs, Greenow, if things were really fixed.


"Things are really fixed," said Mrs. Greenow.


He could, however, not keep himself from hinting that Oileymead was a substantial home, and that Bellfield had not as much as a straw mattress to lie upon.

He could, however, not keep himself from hinting that Bellfield had not as much as a straw mattress to lie upon.


In answer to this Mrs. Greenow told him that there was so much more reason why some one should provide the poor man with a mattress.

Mrs. Greenow answered, so much more reason why someone should provide the poor man with a mattress.


"If you look at it in that light, of course it's true," said Cheesacre. Mrs. Greenow told him that she did look at it in that light. "Then I've done about that," said Cheesacre; "and as to the little bit of money he owes me, I must give him his time about it, I suppose."

"If you look at it in that light, of course it's true," said Cheesacre; "and as to the bit of money he owes me, I must give him his time about it, I suppose."


Mrs. Greenow assured him that it should be paid as soon as possible after the nuptial benediction had been said over them. She offered, indeed, to pay it at once if he was in distress for it, but he answered contemptuously that he never was in distress for money.

Mrs. Greenow offered to pay it at once if he needed it, but he answered contemptuously that he was never in distress for money.


He liked to have his own,--that was all.


After this he did not get away to his next subject quite so easily as he wished; and it must be admitted that there was a difficulty.

After this he did not get on to his next subject quite so easily as he wished; and it must be admitted that there was a difficulty.


As he could not have Mrs. Greenow he would be content to put up with Kate for his wife.


Rumours as to the old Squire's will had no doubt reached him, and he was now willing to take advantage of that assistance which Mrs. Greenow had before offered him in this matter. The time had come in which he ought to marry; of that he was aware.

Rumours about the old Squire's will had reached him, and he had decided that the time had come when he ought to marry.


He had told many of his friends in Norfolk that Kate Vavasor had thrown herself at his head, and very probably he had thought it true.

He had told his friends in Norfolk that Kate Vavasor had thrown herself at his head, and very probably he had thought it true.


In answer to all his love speeches to herself, the aunt had always told him what an excellent wife her niece would make him.

And the aunt had always told him what an excellent wife her niece would make.


So now he had come to Westmoreland with this second string to his bow.


"You know you put it into my head your own self," pleaded Mr. Cheesacre.


"But things are so different since that," said the widow.

"But things are different now," said the widow.


There's Oileymead just where it always was, and the owner of it don't owe a shilling to any man.


Mrs. Greenow, who would have thought to find you mercenary like that?


Is she going to fling a man over because of that?"


Mrs. Greenow endeavoured to explain to him that her niece could hardly be said to have flung him over, and at last pretended to become angry when he attempted to assert his position.

Mrs. Greenow tried to explain to him that her niece could hardly be said to have flung him over, and at last pretended to become angry.


"Why, Mr. Cheesacre, I am quite sure she never gave you a word of encouragement in her life."

"Why, Mr. Cheesacre, I am quite sure she never gave you a word of encouragement."


"But you always told me I might have her for the asking."


It's of no use your going on there to ask her, for she will only send you away with an answer you won't like.

It's of no use your asking her, for she will only send you away with an answer you won't like.


Look here, Mr. Cheesacre; you want to get married, and it's quite time you should. There's my dear friend Charlie Fairstairs.

Look here, Mr. Cheesacre; you want to get married, and there's my dear friend Charlie Fairstairs.


How could you get a better wife than Charlie?"


said Cheesacre, turning up his nose in disgust.


"She hasn't got a penny, nor any one belonging to her.


The man who marries her will have to find the money for the smock she stands up in."


Do you go home and think of it; and if you'll marry Charlie, I'll go to your wedding.

Go home and think about it; and if you'll marry Charlie, I'll go to your wedding."


They were now close to the gate, and Cheesacre paused before he entered.

They were now at the gate, and Cheesacre paused.


"Do you think there's no chance at all for me, then?"


"Somebody else, perhaps, is the happy man?"


"I can't say anything about that, but I know that she wouldn't take you.

"I can't say anything about that, but I know she wouldn't take you."


I like farming, you know, but she doesn't."


"I might give that up," said Cheesacre readily,--"at any rate, for a time."


Believe me, my friend, that it is of no use."


"I don't see what's the use of my going in," said he.


"There's a pride about me," he continued, "that I don't choose to go where I'm not wanted."


"I can't tell you, Mr. Cheesacre, that you are wanted in that light, certainly."


Perhaps you'll be so good as to tell the boy with the gig to come after me?

Perhaps you'll tell the boy with the gig to come after me?


That's six pound ten it will have cost me to come here and go back.


Bellfield did it cheaper, of course; he travelled second class."


"The expense does not matter to you, Mr. Cheesacre."


To this he assented, and then took his leave, at first offering his hand to Mrs. Greenow with an air of offended dignity, but falling back almost into humility during the performance of his adieu.

He agreed, and then took his leave, offering his hand to Mrs. Greenow almost with humility.


Before he was gone he had invited her to bring the Captain to Oileymead when she was married, and had begged her to tell Miss Vavasor how happy he should be to receive her.

Before he left he invited her to bring the Captain to Oileymead when she was married, and begged her to tell Miss Vavasor how happy he should be to receive her.


"And Mr. Cheesacre," said the widow, as he walked back along the road, "don't forget dear Charlie Fairstairs."

"And Mr. Cheesacre," said the widow, as he walked away, "don't forget dear Charlie Fairstairs."


They were all standing at the front door of the house when Mrs. Greenow re-appeared,--Alice, Kate, Captain Bellfield, the Shap boy, and the Shap horse and gig. "Where is he?" Kate asked in a low voice, and everyone there felt how important was the question. "He has gone," said the widow.

She entered the house, and told her nieces and the Captain, "He has gone."


Bellfield was so relieved that he could not restrain his joy, but took off his little straw hat and threw it up into the air.

Bellfield was so relieved that he took off his little straw hat and threw it in the air.


Kate's satisfaction was almost as intense.


"What on earth should we have done with him?"


"I never was so disappointed in my life," said Alice.


"I have heard so much of Mr. Cheesacre, but have never seen him."


Kate suggested that she should get into the gig and drive after him.


suggested the boy, whose face became very dismal as the terrible idea struck him.


But, with juvenile craft, he put his hand on the carpet-bag, and finding that it did not contain stones, was comforted.


"You drive after him, young gentleman, and you'll find him on the road to Shap," said Mrs. Greenow.


"Mind you give him my love," said the Captain in his glee, "and say I hope he'll get his turnips in well."


This little episode went far to break the day, and did more than anything else could have done to put Captain Bellfield at his ease.

This little episode did more than anything else to put Captain Bellfield at his ease.


It created a little joint-stock fund of merriment between the whole party, which was very much needed.

It created a little fund of merriment between the whole party, which was very much needed.


The absence of such joint-stock fund is always felt when a small party is thrown together without such assistance.


Some bond is necessary on these occasions, and no other bond is so easy or so pleasant.


Now, when the Captain found himself alone for a quarter of an hour with Alice, he had plenty of subjects for small-talk.

Now, when the Captain found himself alone for a quarter of an hour with Alice, he had plenty of small-talk.


Old Cheesacre, in spite of his absurdities, is not a bad sort of fellow at bottom;--awfully fond of his money, you know, Miss Vavasor, and always boasting about it."

Old Cheesacre is not a bad fellow at bottom; awfully fond of his money, you know, Miss Vavasor, and always boasting about it."


"No, the most unpleasant thing in the world.


There's nothing I hate so much, Miss Vavasor, as that kind of talking.


My idea is this,--when a man has lots of money, let him make the best use he can of it, and say nothing about it.

I think that when a man has lots of money, let him make the best use he can of it, and say nothing about it.


Nobody ever heard me talking about my money."


He knew that Alice knew that he was a pauper; but, nevertheless, he had the satisfaction of speaking of himself as though he were not a pauper.


In this way the afternoon went very pleasantly.


For an hour before dinner Captain Bellfield was had into the drawing-room and was talked to by his widow on matters of business; but he had of course known that this was necessary.

For an hour before dinner Captain Bellfield was talked to by his widow; but he had known that this was necessary.


She scolded him soundly about those sheriff's officers.


"As long as there's anything kept back, I won't have you," said she.


"I won't become your wife till I'm quite sure there's not a penny owing that is not shown in the list."

"I won't become your wife till I'm quite sure there's not a penny owing that is not in the list."


Then I think he did tell her all,--or nearly all.

Then I think he did tell her all - or nearly all.


When all was counted it was not so very much.


Three or four hundred pounds would make him a new man, and what was such a sum as that to his wealthy widow!


Indeed, for a woman wanting a husband of that sort, Captain Bellfield was a safer venture than would be a man of a higher standing among his creditors.

Indeed, for a woman wanting a husband of that sort, Captain Bellfield was a safer bet than someone of the standing of Burgo Fitzgerald.


It is true Bellfield might have been a forger, or a thief, or a returned convict,--but then his debts could not be large.


Let him have done his best, he could not have obtained credit for a thousand pounds; whereas, no one could tell the liabilities of a gentleman of high standing.


Burgo Fitzgerald was a gentleman of high standing, and his creditors would have swallowed up every shilling that Mrs. Greenow possessed; but with Captain Bellfield she was comparatively safe.

Fitzgerald's creditors would have swallowed up every shilling that Mrs. Greenow possessed; but with Captain Bellfield she was comparatively safe.


Upon the whole I think that she was lucky in her choice; or, perhaps, I might more truly say, that she had chosen with prudence.


He was no forger, or thief--in the ordinary sense of the word; nor was he a returned convict.


He was simply an idle scamp, who had hung about the world for forty years, doing nothing, without principle, shameless, accustomed to eat dirty puddings, and to be kicked--morally kicked--by such men as Cheesacre.

He was simply an idle scamp, who had hung about the world for forty years, doing nothing.


But he was moderate in his greediness, and possessed of a certain appreciation of the comfort of a daily dinner, which might possibly suffice to keep him from straying very wide as long as his intended wife should be able to keep the purse-strings altogether in her own hands.

But he was moderate in his greediness, with an appreciation of a daily dinner, which might keep him from straying very far as long as his intended wife could keep the purse-strings in her hands.


Therefore, I say that Mrs. Greenow had been lucky in her choice, and not altogether without prudence.


"I think of taking this house," said she, "and of living here."

"I am thinking of taking this house," said she, "and of living here."


said the Captain, with something of dismay in his tone.


What on earth would he do with himself all his life in that gloomy place!

What on earth would he do with himself in that gloomy place!


Why not in Westmoreland as well as anywhere else?

Why not in Westmorland as well as anywhere else?


If you don't like Westmoreland, it's not too late yet, you know."

If you don't like it, it's not too late, you know."


In answer to this the poor Captain was obliged to declare that he had no objection whatever to Westmoreland.

To which the poor Captain was obliged to declare that he had no objection whatever to Westmorland.


"I've been talking to my niece about it," continued Mrs. Greenow, "and I find that such an arrangement can be made very conveniently.


The property is left between her and her uncle,--the father of my other niece, and neither of them want to live here."

The property is left between her and her uncle, and neither of them want to live here."


"But won't you be rather dull, my dear?"


"We could go to Yarmouth, you know, in the autumn."

"We could go to Yarmouth in the autumn."


Then the Captain's visage became somewhat bright again.

Then the Captain's face brightened somewhat.


"And perhaps, if you are not extravagant, we could manage a month or so in London during the winter, just to see the plays and do a little shopping."


Then the Captain's face became very bright.


"And as for being dull," said the widow, "when people grow old they must be dull.


In answer to this the widow's Captain assured the widow that she was not at all old; and now, on this occasion, that ceremony came off successfully which had been interrupted on the Shap road by the noise of Mr. Cheesacre's wheels.

In answer to this he assured this widow that she was not at all old; and now, on this occasion, his attempt to kiss her was successful.


"Bother Jeannette," said the Captain in his bliss.


"She can do another cap, and many more won't be wanted."


Upon the whole the Captain's visit was satisfactory--at any rate to the Captain.

Upon the whole the Captain's visit was satisfactory - at any rate to the Captain.


He was to go away on Saturday morning, and remain in lodgings at Penrith till the wedding, which they agreed to have celebrated at Vavasor Church.


Kate promised to be the solitary bridesmaid.


There was some talk of sending for Charlie Fairstairs, but the idea was abandoned.


"We'll have her afterwards," said the widow to Kate, "when you are gone, and we shall want her more.


And I'll get Cheesacre here, and make him marry her.


There's no good in paying for two journeys."


The Captain was to be allowed to come over from Penrith twice a week previous to his marriage; or perhaps, I might more fairly say, that he was commanded to do so.

The Captain was to be allowed to come over from Penrith twice a week before his marriage.


I wonder how he felt when Mrs. Greenow gave him his first five-pound note, and told him that he must make it do for a fortnight?--whether it was all joy, or whether there was about his heart any touch of manly regret?

I wonder how he felt when Mrs. Greenow gave him his first five-pound note, and told him that he must make it do for a fortnight? whether it was all joy, or whether there was any touch of manly regret?


"Captain Bellfield, of Vavasor Hall, Westmoreland.


It don't sound badly," he said to himself, as he travelled away on his first journey to Penrith.


Vavasor, as he sat alone in his room, after Fitzgerald had left him, began to think of the days in which he had before wished to assist his friend in his views with reference to Lady Glencora;--or rather he began to think of Alice's behaviour then, and of Alice's words.

Vavasor, after Fitzgerald had left him, began to think of the days past when he had helped his friend; and he thought of Alice's behaviour then.


Alice had steadfastly refused to give any aid.


No less likely assistant for such a purpose could have been selected.


But she had been very earnest in declaring that it was Glencora's duty to stand by her promise to Burgo.


"He is a desperate spendthrift," Kate Vavasor had said to her.


"Then let her teach him to be otherwise," Alice had answered.


"That might have been a good reason for refusing his offer when he first made it; but it can be no excuse for untruth, now that she has told him that she loves him!"


"If a woman," she had said again, "won't venture her fortune for the man she loves, her love is not worth having."

"If a woman won't venture her fortune for the man she loves, her love is not worth having."


All this George Vavasor remembered now; and as he remembered it he asked himself whether the woman that had once loved him would venture her fortune for him still.

All this George Vavasor remembered now; and he asked himself whether the woman that had once loved him would venture her fortune for him still.


Though his sister had pressed him on the subject with all the vehemence that she could use, he had hardly hitherto made up his mind that he really desired to marry Alice.

He had until now hardly made up his mind that he really wanted to marry Alice.


There had grown upon him lately certain Bohemian propensities,--a love of absolute independence in his thoughts as well as actions,--which were antagonistic to marriage. He was almost inclined to think that marriage was an old-fashioned custom, fitted indeed well enough for the usual dull life of the world at large,--as many men both in heathen and in Christian ages have taught themselves to think of religion,--but which was not adapted to his advanced intelligence.

He had grown to love his independence; and he was inclined to think that marriage was an old-fashioned custom, not adapted to his advanced intelligence.


If he loved any woman he loved his cousin Alice.

If he loved and respected any woman, it was his cousin Alice.


If he thoroughly respected any woman he respected her.


But that idea of tying himself down to a household was in itself distasteful to him.

But that idea of tying himself down was distasteful.


"It is a thing terrible to think of," he once said to a congenial friend in these days of his life, "that a man should give permission to a priest to tie him to another human being like a Siamese twin, so that all power of separate and solitary action should be taken from him for ever!


The beasts of the field do not treat each other so badly.


They neither drink themselves drunk, nor eat themselves stupid;--nor do they bind themselves together in a union which both would have to hate."


In this way George Vavasor, trying to imitate the wisdom of the brutes, had taught himself some theories of a peculiar nature.


But, nevertheless, as he thought of Alice Vavasor on this occasion, he began to feel that if a Siamese twin were necessary for him, she of all others was the woman to whom he would wish to be so bound.

Nevertheless, as he thought now of Alice Vavasor, he began to feel that if a Siamese twin were necessary for him, she of all others was the woman to whom he would wish to be bound.


And if he did it at all, he must do it now.


Under the joint instigation of himself and his sister,--as he thought, and perhaps not altogether without reason,--she had broken her engagement with Mr. Grey.

He and his sister, as Kate thought, had induced Alice to break her engagement with Mr. Grey.


That she would renew it again if left to herself, he believed probable.

But he believed that if left to herself, Alice would probably renew it again.


And then, despite that advanced intelligence which had taught him to regard all forms and ceremonies with the eye of a philosopher, he had still enough of human frailty about him to feel keenly alive to the pleasure of taking from John Grey the prize which John Grey had so nearly taken from him.

And then, despite that advanced intelligence of his, he still had enough human frailty to feel pleasure at the idea of taking John Grey's prize from him.


If Alice could have been taught to think as he did as to the absurdity of those indissoluble ties, that would have been better.


But nothing would have been more impossible than the teaching of such a lesson to his cousin Alice.


George Vavasor was a man of courage, and dared do most things;--but he would not have dared to commence the teaching of such a lesson to her.


And now, at this moment, what was his outlook into life generally?


He had very high ambition, and a fair hope of gratifying it if he could only provide that things should go well with him for a year or so.

George Vavasor had very high ambition, and a fair hope of gratifying it if only things would go well with him for a year or so.


He was still a poor man, having been once nearly a rich man; but still so much of the result of his nearly acquired riches remained to him, that on the strength of them he might probably find his way into Parliament. He had paid the cost of the last attempt, and might, in a great degree, carry on this present attempt on credit. If he succeeded there would be open to him a mode of life, agreeable in itself, and honourable among men.

He was still a poor man, but if he succeeded in getting into Parliament he would be able to live an agreeable and honourable mode of life.


But how was he to bear the cost of this for the next year, or the next two years?

But how was he to bear the cost of this for the next year or two?


His grandfather was still alive, and would probably live over that period.

His grandfather would probably not die soon.


If he married Alice he would do so with no idea of cheating her out of her money.


She should learn,--nay, she had already learned from his own lips,--how perilous was his enterprise.

She already knew how perilous was his enterprise.


But he knew her to be a woman who would boldly risk all in money, though no consideration would induce her to stir a hair's breadth towards danger in reputation. Towards teaching her that doctrine at which I have hinted, he would not have dared to make an attempt; but he felt that he should have no repugnance to telling her that he wanted to spend all her money in the first year or two of their married life!

He knew her to be a woman who would boldly risk all in money; but could he tell her that he wanted to spend all her fortune in the first year or two of their married life!


He was still in his arm-chair, thinking of all this, with that small untasted modicum of brandy and water beside him, when he heard some distant Lambeth clock strike three from over the river.

He was still in his arm-chair, thinking of all this, when he heard a distant clock strike three.


Then he rose from his seat, and taking the candles in his hand, sat himself down at a writing-desk on the other side of the room.

Then he rose from his seat, and sat down at a writing-desk.


"I needn't send it when it's written," he said to himself, "and the chances are that I won't."


Then he took his paper, and wrote as follows:--