He forgets to smoke, looks at the fire and ponders, lets his pipe out, fills the breast of Mr. Bagnet with perturbation and dismay by showing that he has no enjoyment of tobacco.

forgets to smoke, filling Mr. Bagnet with dismay.


Therefore when Mrs. Bagnet at last appears, rosy from the invigorating pail, and sits down to her work, Mr. Bagnet growls, "Old girl!"

Therefore when Mrs. Bagnet at last appears and sits down to her sewing, Mr. Bagnet growls, "Old girl!"


and winks monitions to her to find out what's the matter.

and winks at her to find out what's the matter.


says Mrs. Bagnet, quietly threading her needle.


Well, I am afraid I am not good company."


"Because he ain't well, I think, mother," adds Quebec.

"He ain't well, I think, mother," says Quebec.


"Sure that's a bad sign not to be like Bluffy, too!"


returns the trooper, kissing the young damsels.


"But it's true," with a sigh, "true, I am afraid.


"George," says Mrs. Bagnet, working busily, "if I thought you cross enough to think of anything that a shrill old soldier's wife--who could have bitten her tongue off afterwards and ought to have done it almost--said this morning, I don't know what I shouldn't say to you now."

"George," says Mrs. Bagnet, working busily, "I hope you are not cross enough to care about what a shrill old soldier's wife said this morning."


"My kind soul of a darling," returns the trooper.


"Because really and truly, George, what I said and meant to say was that I trusted Lignum to you and was sure you'd bring him through it.

"Because truly, George, what I meant to say was that I trusted Lignum to you and was sure you'd bring him through it.


And you HAVE brought him through it, noble!"

And you have brought him through it, noble!"


In giving Mrs. Bagnet's hand, with her work in it, a friendly shake--for she took her seat beside him--the trooper's attention is attracted to her face.


After looking at it for a little while as she plies her needle, he looks to young Woolwich, sitting on his stool in the corner, and beckons that fifer to him.

He looks at her and then at young Woolwich, sitting on his stool in the corner, and beckons him over.


"See there, my boy," says George, very gently smoothing the mother's hair with his hand, "there's a good loving forehead for you!

"See there, my boy," says George, "there's a mother's


A little touched by the sun and the weather through following your father about and taking care of you, but as fresh and wholesome as a ripe apple on a tree."


Mr. Bagnet's face expresses, so far as in its wooden material lies, the highest approbation and acquiescence.

Mr. Bagnet's expression shows the highest approval.


"The time will come, my boy," pursues the trooper, "when this hair of your mother's will be grey, and this forehead all crossed and re-crossed with wrinkles, and a fine old lady she'll be then.

"The time will come, my boy," pursues the trooper, "when your mother's hair will be grey, and her forehead crossed with wrinkles, and a fine old lady she'll be then.


Take care, while you are young, that you can think in those days, 'I never whitened a hair of her dear head--I never marked a sorrowful line in her face!'

Take care that you can think in those days, 'I never whitened a hair of her dear head - I never marked a sorrowful line in her face!'"


For of all the many things that you can think of when you are a man, you had better have THAT by you, Woolwich!"


Mr. George concludes by rising from his chair, seating the boy beside his mother in it, and saying, with something of a hurry about him, that he'll smoke his pipe in the street a bit.

Mr. George rises from his chair and seats the boy beside his mother, saying, with something of a hurry, that he'll smoke his pipe in the street.


I had not the courage to see any one that night.

I had not the courage to see anyone that night


I had not even the courage to see myself, for I was afraid that my tears might a little reproach me.


I went up to my room in the dark, and prayed in the dark, and lay down in the dark to sleep.


I had no need of any light to read my guardian's letter by, for I knew it by heart.


I took it from the place where I kept it, and repeated its contents by its own clear light of integrity and love, and went to sleep with it on my pillow.


I was up very early in the morning and called Charley to come for a walk.


We bought flowers for the breakfast-table, and came back and arranged them, and were as busy as possible.


We were so early that I had a good time still for Charley's lesson before breakfast; Charley (who was not in the least improved in the old defective article of grammar) came through it with great applause; and we were altogether very notable.

had Charley's lesson before breakfast, and were as busy as possible.


When my guardian appeared he said, "Why, little woman, you look fresher than your flowers!"


And Mrs. Woodcourt repeated and translated a passage from the Mewlinnwillinwodd expressive of my being like a mountain with the sun upon it.

And Mrs. Woodcourt translated a passage from the Mewlinnwillinwodd about my being like a mountain with the sun upon it.


This was all so pleasant that I hope it made me still more like the mountain than I had been before.

This was all so pleasant that I hope it made me still more like the mountain than before.


After breakfast I waited my opportunity and peeped about a little until I saw my guardian in his own room--the room of last night--by himself.

After breakfast I waited until I saw my guardian in his own room - the room of last night.


Then I made an excuse to go in with my housekeeping keys, shutting the door after me.


said my guardian; the post had brought him several letters, and he was writing.


"There never was such a Dame Durden," said my guardian, "for making money last."


He had laid down his pen and leaned back in his chair looking at me.

He laid down his pen and leaned back in his chair looking at me.


I have often spoken of his bright face, but I thought I had never seen it look so bright and good.


There was a high happiness upon it which made me think, "He has been doing some great kindness this morning."


"There never was," said my guardian, musing as he smiled upon me, "such a Dame Durden for making money last."


He had never yet altered his old manner.


I loved it and him so much that when I now went up to him and took my usual chair, which was always put at his side--for sometimes I read to him, and sometimes I talked to him, and sometimes I silently worked by him--I hardly liked to disturb it by laying my hand on his breast.

I loved it and him so much that when I now went up to him and took my usual chair at his side, I hardly liked to disturb it by laying my hand on his breast.


But I found I did not disturb it at all.


"Dear guardian," said I, "I want to speak to you.


"Have I not been what I have meant to be since--I brought the answer to your letter, guardian?"

since - since I brought the answer to your letter, guardian?"


"You have been everything I could desire, my love."


"I am very glad indeed to hear that," I returned.


"You know, you said to me, was this the mistress of Bleak House.


"Yes," said my guardian, nodding his head.


He had put his arm about me as if there were something to protect me from and looked in my face, smiling.


"Since then," said I, "we have never spoken on the subject except once."


"And then I said Bleak House was thinning fast; and so it was, my dear."


"And I said," I timidly reminded him, "but its mistress remained."


He still held me in the same protecting manner and with the same bright goodness in his face.


"Dear guardian," said I, "I know how you have felt all that has happened, and how considerate you have been.

"Dear guardian," said I, "I know how considerate you have been.


As so much time has passed, and as you spoke only this morning of my being so well again, perhaps you expect me to renew the subject.

As so much time has passed, and as you spoke only this morning of my being so well again, perhaps I ought to renew the subject.


I will be the mistress of Bleak House when you please."


"See," he returned gaily, "what a sympathy there must be between us!


I have had nothing else, poor Rick excepted--it's a large exception--in my mind.


When you came in, my mind was full of the same thing.


When shall we give Bleak House its mistress, little woman?"


"The day on which I take the happiest and best step of my life--the day on which I shall be a man more exulting and more enviable than any other man in the world--the day on which I give Bleak House its little mistress--shall be next month then," said my guardian.

"The day on which I take the happiest and best step of my life - the day on which I give Bleak House its little mistress - shall be next month then," said my guardian.


I put my arms round his neck and kissed him just as I had done on the day when I brought my answer.


A servant came to the door to announce Mr. Bucket, which was quite unnecessary, for Mr. Bucket was already looking in over the servant's shoulder.

A servant came to the door to announce Mr. Bucket, which was quite unnecessary, for Mr. Bucket was already looking in over her shoulder.


"Mr. Jarndyce and Miss Summerson," said he, rather out of breath, "with all apologies for intruding, WILL you allow me to order up a person that's on the stairs and that objects to being left there in case of becoming the subject of observations in his absence?

"Mr. Jarndyce and Miss Summerson," said he, rather out of breath, "with apologies for intruding, will you allow me to order up a person that's on the stairs and that objects to being left there in case of us talking about him in his absence?


Be so good as chair that there member in this direction, will you?"

Be so good as to chair that there member in this direction, will you?"


said Mr. Bucket, beckoning over the banisters.


This singular request produced an old man in a black skull-cap, unable to walk, who was carried up by a couple of bearers and deposited in the room near the door.

This singular request produced an old man in a black skull-cap, unable to walk, who was carried up by a couple of bearers and deposited near the door.


Mr. Bucket immediately got rid of the bearers, mysteriously shut the door, and bolted it.


"Now you see, Mr. Jarndyce," he then began, putting down his hat and opening his subject with a flourish of his well-remembered finger, "you know me, and Miss Summerson knows me.

"Now, Mr. Jarndyce," he began, with a flourish of his finger, "


This gentleman likewise knows me, and his name is Smallweed.


The discounting line is his line principally, and he's what you may call a dealer in bills.

He's what you may call a dealer in bills.


That's about what YOU are, you know, ain't you?"


said Mr. Bucket, stopping a little to address the gentleman in question, who was exceedingly suspicious of him.


He seemed about to dispute this designation of himself when he was seized with a violent fit of coughing.


said Mr. Bucket, improving the accident.


"Don't you contradict when there ain't no occasion, and you won't be took in that way.


Now, Mr. Jarndyce, I address myself to you.


I've been negotiating with this gentleman on behalf of Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, and one way and another I've been in and out and about his premises a deal.

I've been negotiating with this gentleman on behalf of Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, and one way and another I've been in and out and about his premises a good deal.


His premises are the premises formerly occupied by Krook, marine store dealer--a relation of this gentleman's that you saw in his lifetime if I don't mistake?"

His premises were formerly occupied by Krook - whom you saw in his lifetime if I don't mistake?"


You are to understand," said Mr. Bucket, "that this gentleman he come into Krook's property, and a good deal of magpie property there was.


Vast lots of waste-paper among the rest.


The cunning of Mr. Bucket's eye and the masterly manner in which he contrived, without a look or a word against which his watchful auditor could protest, to let us know that he stated the case according to previous agreement and could say much more of Mr. Smallweed if he thought it advisable, deprived us of any merit in quite understanding him.


His difficulty was increased by Mr. Smallweed's being deaf as well as suspicious and watching his face with the closest attention.

Mr. Smallweed suspiciously watched his face with the closest attention.


"Among them odd heaps of old papers, this gentleman, when he comes into the property, naturally begins to rummage, don't you see?"

"Among them odd heaps of old papers, this gentleman naturally begins to rummage


Say that again," cried Mr. Smallweed in a shrill, sharp voice.


"Being a prudent man and accustomed to take care of your own affairs, you begin to rummage among the papers as you have come into; don't you?"

"Being a prudent man, you begin to rummage among the papers as you have come into; don't you?"


"Of course you do," said Mr. Bucket conversationally, "and much to blame you would be if you didn't.

"Of course you do," said Mr. Bucket conversationally.


And so you chance to find, you know," Mr. Bucket went on, stooping over him with an air of cheerful raillery which Mr. Smallweed by no means reciprocated, "and so you chance to find, you know, a paper with the signature of Jarndyce to it.

"And so you chance to find, you know, a paper with the signature of Jarndyce to it.


Mr. Smallweed glanced with a troubled eye at us and grudgingly nodded assent.

Mr. Smallweed glanced with a troubled eye at us and grudgingly nodded.


"And coming to look at that paper at your full leisure and convenience--all in good time, for you're not curious to read it, and why should you be?--what do you find it to be but a will, you see.

"And coming to look at that paper at your full leisure - all in good time - what do you find it to be but a will, you see.


That's the drollery of it," said Mr. Bucket with the same lively air of recalling a joke for the enjoyment of Mr. Smallweed, who still had the same crest-fallen appearance of not enjoying it at all; "what do you find it to be but a will?"

That's the humour of it," said Mr. Bucket with the lively air of recalling a joke, which Mr. Smallweed did not share; "what do you find it to be but a will?"


"I don't know that it's good as a will or as anything else," snarled Mr. Smallweed.


Mr. Bucket eyed the old man for a moment--he had slipped and shrunk down in his chair into a mere bundle--as if he were much disposed to pounce upon him; nevertheless, he continued to bend over him with the same agreeable air, keeping the corner of one of his eyes upon us.

Mr. Bucket eyed the old man for a moment as if he were disposed to pounce upon him; nevertheless, he continued to bend over him with the same agreeable air.


"Notwithstanding which," said Mr. Bucket, "you get a little doubtful and uncomfortable in your mind about it, having a very tender mind of your own."

"Notwithstanding which," said Mr. Bucket, "you get a little doubtful and uncomfortable in your mind about it.


asked Mr. Smallweed with his hand to his ear.


"And as you've heard a good deal mentioned regarding a celebrated Chancery will case of the same name, and as you know what a card Krook was for buying all manner of old pieces of furniter, and books, and papers, and what not, and never liking to part with 'em, and always a-going to teach himself to read, you begin to think--and you never was more correct in your born days--'Ecod, if I don't look about me, I may get into trouble regarding this will.'"

And as you've heard a good deal mentioned regarding a celebrated Chancery will case of the same name, and as you know how Krook was for buying all manner of old papers, and always a-going to teach himself to read, you begin to think - and you never was more correct in your born days - 'By heaven, if I don't look about me, I may get into trouble regarding this will.'"


"Now, mind how you put it, Bucket," cried the old man anxiously with his hand at his ear.

"Mind how you put it, Bucket," cried the old man anxiously with his hand at his ear.


"Speak up; none of your brimstone tricks.


Mr. Bucket had certainly picked him up at a dart.


However, as soon as he could be heard through Mr. Smallweed's coughing and his vicious ejaculations of "Oh, my bones!

As soon as he could be heard through Mr. Smallweed's coughing and his cries of "Oh, my bones!"


I'm worse than the chattering, clattering, brimstone pig at home!"


Mr. Bucket proceeded in the same convivial manner as before.

Mr. Bucket proceeded in the same convivial manner.


"So, as I happen to be in the habit of coming about your premises, you take me into your confidence, don't you?"

"So you take me into your confidence, don't you?"


I think it would be impossible to make an admission with more ill will and a worse grace than Mr. Smallweed displayed when he admitted this, rendering it perfectly evident that Mr. Bucket was the very last person he would have thought of taking into his confidence if he could by any possibility have kept him out of it.

I think it would be impossible to make an admission with more ill will than Mr. Smallweed when he admitted this, as if Mr. Bucket was the very last person he would have taken into his confidence if he could have kept him out of it.


"And I go into the business with you--very pleasant we are over it; and I confirm you in your well-founded fears that you will get yourself into a most precious line if you don't come out with that there will," said Mr. Bucket emphatically; "and accordingly you arrange with me that it shall be delivered up to this present Mr. Jarndyce, on no conditions.

"And I go into the business with you very pleasantly; and I confirm you in your well-founded fears that you will get yourself into trouble if you don't come out with that there will," said Mr. Bucket emphatically; "and accordingly you arrange with me that it shall be delivered up to Mr. Jarndyce, on no conditions.


If it should prove to be valuable, you trusting yourself to him for your reward; that's about where it is, ain't it?"

If it should prove to be valuable, you're trusting yourself to him for your reward; that's about where it is, ain't it?"


"That's what was agreed," Mr. Smallweed assented with the same bad grace.


"In consequence of which," said Mr. Bucket, dismissing his agreeable manner all at once and becoming strictly business-like, "you've got that will upon your person at the present time, and the only thing that remains for you to do is just to out with it!"

"In consequence of which," said Mr. Bucket, "the only thing that remains for you to do is just to hand it over!"


Having given us one glance out of the watching corner of his eye, and having given his nose one triumphant rub with his forefinger, Mr. Bucket stood with his eyes fastened on his confidential friend and his hand stretched forth ready to take the paper and present it to my guardian.


It was not produced without much reluctance and many declarations on the part of Mr. Smallweed that he was a poor industrious man and that he left it to Mr. Jarndyce's honour not to let him lose by his honesty.

was produced with much reluctance and many declarations on the part of Mr. Smallweed that he was a poor industrious man and that he hoped he would not lose by his honesty.


Little by little he very slowly took from a breast-pocket a stained, discoloured paper which was much singed upon the outside and a little burnt at the edges, as if it had long ago been thrown upon a fire and hastily snatched off again.

He very slowly took from a breast-pocket a stained, discoloured paper which was a little burnt at the edges.


Mr. Bucket lost no time in transferring this paper, with the dexterity of a conjuror, from Mr. Smallweed to Mr. Jarndyce.

Mr. Bucket transferred this paper, with the dexterity of a conjuror, from Mr. Smallweed to Mr. Jarndyce.


As he gave it to my guardian, he whispered behind his fingers, "Hadn't settled how to make their market of it.

As he gave it to my guardian, he whispered, "They hadn't settled how to make money from it.


First the avaricious grandchildren split upon him on account of their objections to his living so unreasonably long, and then they split on one another.


There ain't one of the family that wouldn't sell the other for a pound or two, except the old lady--and she's only out of it because she's too weak in her mind to drive a bargain."

There ain't one of the family that wouldn't sell the other for a pound or two."


"Mr Bucket," said my guardian aloud, "whatever the worth of this paper may be to any one, my obligations are great to you; and if it be of any worth, I hold myself bound to see Mr. Smallweed remunerated accordingly."

"Mr. Bucket," said my guardian aloud, "whatever the worth of this paper may be, my obligations to you are great; and if it is of any value, I shall see Mr. Smallweed rewarded accordingly."


"Not according to your merits, you know," said Mr. Bucket in friendly explanation to Mr. Smallweed.


"That is what I mean," said my guardian.


"You may observe, Mr. Bucket, that I abstain from examining this paper myself.

"You may observe, Mr. Bucket," said my guardian, "that I abstain from examining this paper myself.


The plain truth is, I have forsworn and abjured the whole business these many years, and my soul is sick of it.

The plain truth is, I have forsworn the whole business, and my soul is sick of it.


But Miss Summerson and I will immediately place the paper in the hands of my solicitor in the cause, and its existence shall be made known without delay to all other parties interested."

But I will immediately place the paper in the hands of my solicitor, and its existence shall be made known without delay to all other parties interested."


"Mr. Jarndyce can't say fairer than that, you understand," observed Mr. Bucket to his fellow-visitor.


"And it being now made clear to you that nobody's a-going to be wronged--which must be a great relief to YOUR mind--we may proceed with the ceremony of chairing you home again."


He unbolted the door, called in the bearers, wished us good morning, and with a look full of meaning and a crook of his finger at parting went his way.

He unbolted the door, called in the bearers, wished us good morning, and went his way.


We went our way too, which was to Lincoln's Inn, as quickly as possible.

We went our way too, to Lincoln's Inn, as quickly as possible.


Mr. Kenge was disengaged, and we found him at his table in his dusty room with the inexpressive-looking books and the piles of papers.


Chairs having been placed for us by Mr. Guppy, Mr. Kenge expressed the surprise and gratification he felt at the unusual sight of Mr. Jarndyce in his office.

Chairs were placed for us by Mr. Guppy, while Mr. Kenge expressed his surprise and gratification at the unusual sight of Mr. Jarndyce in his office.


He turned over his double eye-glass as he spoke and was more Conversation Kenge than ever.


"I hope," said Mr. Kenge, "that the genial influence of Miss Summerson," he bowed to me, "may have induced Mr. Jarndyce," he bowed to him, "to forego some little of his animosity towards a cause and towards a court which are--shall I say, which take their place in the stately vista of the pillars of our profession?"


"I am inclined to think," returned my guardian, "that Miss Summerson has seen too much of the effects of the court and the cause to exert any influence in their favour.


Nevertheless, they are a part of the occasion of my being here.


Mr. Kenge, before I lay this paper on your desk and have done with it, let me tell you how it has come into my hands."

"Mr. Kenge," began my guardian, "before I lay this paper on your desk, let me tell you how it has come into my hands."


"It could not, sir," said Mr. Kenge, "have been stated more plainly and to the purpose if it had been a case at law."


"Did you ever know English law, or equity either, plain and to the purpose?"


At first he had not seemed to attach much importance to the paper, but when he saw it he appeared more interested, and when he had opened and read a little of it through his eye-glass, he became amazed.

Mr. Kenge did not at first seem to attach much importance to the paper, but when he saw it he appeared more interested, and when he had opened it and read a little, he became amazed.


"Mr. Jarndyce," he said, looking off it, "you have perused this?"

"Mr. Jarndyce," he said, "you have perused this?"


"But, my dear sir," said Mr. Kenge, "it is a will of later date than any in the suit.


It appears to be all in the testator's handwriting.


And even if intended to be cancelled, as might possibly be supposed to be denoted by these marks of fire, it is NOT cancelled.

And even if intended to be cancelled, as might be supposed from these marks of fire, it is not cancelled.


"You ask me what is this to you, Mr. Jarndyce.


If you had perused this document, you would have seen that it reduces your interest considerably, though still leaving it a very handsome one, still leaving it a very handsome one," said Mr. Kenge, waving his hand persuasively and blandly.

If you had perused this document, Mr. Jarndyce, you would have seen that it reduces your interest considerably, though still leaving it a very handsome one," said Mr. Kenge, waving his hand blandly.


"You would further have seen that the interests of Mr. Richard Carstone and of Miss Ada Clare, now Mrs. Richard Carstone, are very materially advanced by it."

"You would further have seen that the interests of Mr. and Mrs. Richard Carstone are very materially advanced by it."


"Kenge," said my guardian, "if all the flourishing wealth that the suit brought into this vile court of Chancery could fall to my two young cousins, I should be well contented.

"Kenge," said my guardian, "if all the wealth that the suit brought into this vile court of Chancery could fall to my two young cousins, I should be well contented.


But do you ask ME to believe that any good is to come of Jarndyce and Jarndyce?"

But do you ask me to believe that any good is to come of Jarndyce and Jarndyce?"


My dear sir, this is a very great country, a very great country.


Its system of equity is a very great system, a very great system.


My guardian said no more, and Mr. Vholes arrived.


He was modestly impressed by Mr. Kenge's professional eminence.


Will you be so good as to take a chair here by me and look over this paper?"

Will you be so good as to take a chair and look over this paper?"


Mr. Vholes did as he was asked and seemed to read it every word.


He was not excited by it, but he was not excited by anything.


When he had well examined it, he retired with Mr. Kenge into a window, and shading his mouth with his black glove, spoke to him at some length.

When he had well examined it, he retired with Mr. Kenge into a window, and spoke to him at some length.


I was not surprised to observe Mr. Kenge inclined to dispute what he said before he had said much, for I knew that no two people ever did agree about anything in Jarndyce and Jarndyce.

I was not surprised to observe Mr. Kenge inclined to dispute what he said, for I knew that no two people ever did agree about anything in Jarndyce and Jarndyce.


But he seemed to get the better of Mr. Kenge too in a conversation that sounded as if it were almost composed of the words "Receiver-General," "Accountant-General," "report," "estate," and "costs."

But he seemed to get the better of Mr. Kenge in a conversation that included the words "Receiver-General," "Accountant-General," "report," "estate," and "costs."


When they had finished, they came back to Mr. Kenge's table and spoke aloud.


But this is a very remarkable document, Mr. Vholes," said Mr. Kenge.

But this is a very remarkable and important document, Mr. Vholes," said Mr. Kenge.


"And a very important document, Mr. Vholes," said Mr. Kenge.


"And as you say, Mr. Vholes, when the cause is in the paper next term, this document will be an unexpected and interesting feature in it," said Mr. Kenge, looking loftily at my guardian.

"And as you say, Mr. Vholes, when the cause appears next term, this document will be an unexpected and interesting feature in it," said Mr. Kenge, looking loftily at my guardian.


Mr. Vholes was gratified, as a smaller practitioner striving to keep respectable, to be confirmed in any opinion of his own by such an authority.


"And when," asked my guardian, rising after a pause, during which Mr. Kenge had rattled his money and Mr. Vholes had picked his pimples, "when is next term?"

"And when is next term?" asked my guardian, rising.


"Next term, Mr. Jarndyce, will be next month," said Mr. Kenge.


"Of course we shall at once proceed to do what is necessary with this document and to collect the necessary evidence concerning it; and of course you will receive our usual notification of the cause being in the paper."

"Of course we shall at once proceed to do what is necessary with this document; and you will receive our usual notification of the cause being in the paper."


"To which I shall pay, of course, my usual attention."


"Still bent, my dear sir," said Mr. Kenge, showing us through the outer office to the door, "still bent, even with your enlarged mind, on echoing a popular prejudice?

"Still bent, my dear sir, on echoing a popular prejudice?" said Mr. Kenge, showing us to the door, "


We are a prosperous community, Mr. Jarndyce, a very prosperous community.


We are a great country, Mr. Jarndyce, we are a very great country.


This is a great system, Mr. Jarndyce, and would you wish a great country to have a little system?

and a great system, Mr. Jarndyce, and would you wish a great country to have a little system?


He said this at the stair-head, gently moving his right hand as if it were a silver trowel with which to spread the cement of his words on the structure of the system and consolidate it for a thousand ages.


Alice, on her return from Westmoreland, went direct to Park Lane, whither Lady Glencora and Mr. Palliser had also returned before her.

Alice, on her return from Westmorland, went direct to Park Lane, where Lady Glencora and Mr. Palliser were.


She was to remain with them in London one entire day, and on the morning after that they were to start for Paris.

She was to stay with them in London one full day, and on the morning after that they were to start for Paris.


She found Mr. Palliser in close attendance upon his wife.


Not that there was anything in his manner which at all implied that he was keeping watch over her, or that he was more with her, or closer to her than a loving husband might wish to be with a young wife; but the mode of life was very different from that which Alice had seen at Matching Priory!

Nothing in his manner implied that he was keeping watch over her; but it was very different from what Alice had seen at Matching Priory!


On her arrival Mr. Palliser himself received her in the hall, and took her up to his wife before she had taken off her travelling hat.

On her arrival Mr. Palliser received her in the hall, and took her up to his wife.


"We are so much obliged to you, Miss Vavasor," he said.


"I feel it quite as deeply as Glencora."


"Oh, no," she said; "it is I that am under obligation to you for taking me."

"Oh, no," she said; "it is I that am under an obligation to you for taking me."


He merely smiled, and shook his head, and then took her up-stairs.


On the stairs he said one other word to her: "You must forgive me if I was cross to you that night she went out among the ruins."

On the stairs he said one other thing: "You must forgive me if I was cross to you that night she went out among the ruins."


Alice muttered something,--some little fib of courtesy as to the matter having been forgotten, or never borne in mind; and then they went on to Lady Glencora's room.

Alice muttered some little fib of courtesy as to the matter having been forgotten; and then they went on to Lady Glencora's room.


It seemed to Alice that he was not so big or so much to be dreaded as when she had seen him at Matching.


His descent from an expectant, or more than an expectant, Chancellor of the Exchequer, down to a simple, attentive husband, seemed to affect his gait, his voice, and all his demeanour.

His descent from an expectant Chancellor of the Exchequer, down to a simple, attentive husband, seemed to affect his demeanour.


When he received Alice at the Priory he certainly loomed before her as something great, whereas now his greatness seemed to have fallen from him.


We must own that this was hard upon him, seeing that the deed by which he had divested himself of his greatness had been so pure and good!


I am all in the midst of packing, and Plantagenet is helping me."

I am in the midst of packing, and Plantagenet is helping me."


Plantagenet winced a little under this, as the hero of old must have winced when he was found with the distaff.


Mr. Palliser had relinquished his sword of state for the distaff which he had assumed, and could take no glory in the change.


There was, too, in his wife's voice the slightest hint of mockery, which, slight as it was, he perhaps thought she might have spared.

His wife's voice held the slightest hint of mockery, which he perhaps thought she might have spared.


"You have nothing left to pack," continued Glencora, "and I don't know what you can do to amuse yourself."


I think we shall have to pull all the things out, and put them up again, or we shall never get through to-morrow.

I think we shall have to start again, or we shall have nothing to do tomorrow.


We couldn't start to-morrow;--could we, Plantagenet?"

We couldn't set off tomorrow, could we, Plantagenet?"


"Not very well, as your rooms are ordered in Paris for the next day."


"As if we couldn't find rooms at every inn on the road.


Now in travelling I should like never to order rooms,--never to know where I was going or when I was going, and to carry everything I wanted in a market-basket."

Now, in travelling I should like never to book rooms - never to know where I was going.


Alice, who by this time had followed her friend along the passage to her bedroom, and had seen how widely the packages were spread about, bethought herself that the market-basket should be a large one.


"And I would never travel among Christians.


Christians are so slow, and they wear chimney-pot hats everywhere.


The further one goes from London among Christians, the more they wear chimney-pot hats.


I want Plantagenet to take us to see the Kurds, but he won't."


"I don't think that would be fair to Miss Vavasor," said Mr. Palliser, who had followed them.

"I don't think that would be fair to Miss Vavasor," said Mr. Palliser.


"Don't put the blame on her head," said Lady Glencora.


"Wouldn't you like to see a live Kurd, Alice?"


"I don't exactly know where they live," said Alice.


"Nor I. I have not the remotest idea of the way to the Kurds.


You see my joke, don't you, though Plantagenet doesn't?


But one knows that they are Eastern, and the East is such a grand idea!"


"I think we'll content ourselves with Rome, or perhaps Naples, on this occasion," said Mr. Palliser.


The notion of Lady Glencora packing anything for herself was as good a joke as that other one of the Kurds and whey.


But she went flitting about from room to room, declaring that this thing must be taken, and that other, till the market-basket would have become very large indeed.


Alice was astonished at the extent of the preparations, and the sort of equipage with which they were about to travel.

Alice was astonished at the extent of the preparations.


Lady Glencora was taking her own carriage.


"Not that I shall ever use it," she said to Alice, "but he insists upon it, to show that I am not supposed to be taken away in disgrace.


"But I fancy that all husbands are dull from the nature of their position.

"But I fancy that all husbands are dull.


If I were a young woman's husband, I shouldn't know what to say to her that wasn't dull."


Two women and two men servants were to be taken.


Alice had received permission to bring her own maid--"or a dozen, if you want them," Lady Glencora had said.


"Mr. Palliser in his present mood would think nothing too much to do for you.


If you were to ask him to go among the Kurds, he'd go at once;--or on to Crim Tartary, if you made a point of it."


But as both Lady Glencora's servants spoke French, and as her own did not, Alice trusted herself in that respect to her cousin.

Both Lady Glencora's servants spoke French, and as Alice's did not,


"You shall have one all to yourself," said Lady Glencora.

Lady Glencora said, "You shall have one all to yourself."


"I only take two for the same reason that I take the carriage,--just as you let a child go out in her best frock, for a treat, after you've scolded her."


When Alice asked why it was supposed that Mr. Palliser was so specially devoted to her, the thing was explained to her.

She then explained Mr. Palliser's kindness to Alice.


"You see, my dear, I have told him everything.


He knows about your not letting me come to your house in the old days.


Oh, Alice!--you were wrong then; I shall always say that.


But it's done and gone; and things that are done and gone shall be done and gone for me.


And I told him all that you said,--about you know what.

And I told him all that you said - about you know what.


I have had nothing else to do but make confessions for the last ten days, and when a woman once begins, the more she confesses the better.


And I told him that you refused Jeffrey."


"I did indeed, and he likes you the better for that.


I think he'd let Jeffrey marry you now if you both wished it;--and then, oh dear!--supposing that you had a son and that we adopted it?"

I think he'd let Jeffrey marry you now if you both wished it - and then supposing that you had a son and we adopted it?"


"Cora, if you go on in that way I will not remain with you."

"Cora, if you go on in that way I will not stay with you."


At any rate, you can't when we once get to Paris.


you shouldn't grudge me my little naughtinesses.

You shouldn't grudge me my little naughtinesses.


I have been so proper for the last ten days."


Do you know I got into a way of driving Dandy and Flirt at the rate of six miles an hour, till I'm sure the poor beasts thought they were always going to a funeral.


I shan't see them now for another year."


On the following morning they breakfasted early, because Mr. Palliser had got into an early habit.


He had said that early hours would be good for them.


"But he never tells me why," said Lady Glencora.


"I think it is pleasant when people are travelling," said Alice.


"It isn't that," her cousin answered; "but we are all to be such particularly good children.


It's hardly fair, because he went to sleep last night after dinner while you and I kept ourselves awake: but we needn't do that another night, to be sure."


After breakfast they all three went to work to do nothing.


It was ludicrous and almost painful to see Mr. Palliser wandering about and counting the boxes, as though he could do any good by that.

It was almost painful to see Mr. Palliser wandering about and counting the boxes, as though he could do any good by that.


At this special crisis of his life he hated his papers and figures and statistics, and could not apply himself to them.


He, whose application had been so unremitting, could apply himself now to nothing.

He, whose application to his figures had been so unremitting, could apply himself now to nothing.


His world had been brought to an abrupt end, and he was awkward at making a new beginning.


I believe that they all three were reading novels before one o'clock.

They were all reading novels before one o'clock.


Lady Glencora and Alice had determined that they would not leave the house throughout the day.

Lady Glencora and Alice had decided that they would not leave the house.


"Nothing has been said about it, but I regard it as part of the bond that I'm not to go out anywhere.


Who knows but what I might be found in Gloucester Square?"


There was, however, no absolute necessity that Mr. Palliser should remain with them; and, at about three, he prepared himself for a solitary walk.

There was, however, no need for Mr. Palliser to remain with them; and at about three he prepared for a solitary walk.


All interest in the House was over with him for the present.


He had the Speaker's leave to absent himself for the season.


All his friends knew, or believed they knew, that he had left town.

All his friends believed that he had left town.


His death and burial had been already chronicled, and were he now to reappear, he could reappear only as a ghost.


He was being talked of as the departed one;--or rather, such talk on all sides had now come nearly to an end.


The poor Duke of St. Bungay still thought of him with regret when more than ordinarily annoyed by some special grievance coming to him from Mr. Finespun; but even the Duke had become almost reconciled to the present order of things.


Mr. Palliser knew better than to disturb all this by showing himself again in public; and prepared himself, therefore, to take another walk under the elms in Kensington Gardens.

Therefore Mr. Palliser prepared to take a walk under the elms in Kensington Gardens.


He had his hat on his head in the hall, and was in the act of putting on his gloves, when there came a knock at the front door.

He was in the hall putting on his hat and gloves when there came a knock at the front door.


The hall-porter was there, a stout, plethoric personage, not given to many words, who was at this moment standing with his master's umbrella in his hand, looking as though he would fain be of some use to somebody, if any such utility were compatible with the purposes of his existence.


Now had come this knock at the door, while the umbrella was still in his hand, and the nature of his visage changed, and it was easy to see that he was oppressed by the temporary multiplicity of his duties.


"Give me the umbrella, John," said Mr. Palliser.


John gave up the umbrella, and opening the door disclosed Burgo Fitzgerald standing upon the door-step.

revealed Burgo Fitzgerald standing on the step.


asked Burgo, before he had seen the husband.


John turned a dismayed face upon his master, as though he knew that the comer ought not to be making a morning call at that house,--as no doubt he did know very well,--and made no instant reply.

John turned a dismayed face upon his master, as though he knew that the comer ought not to be there, and made no instant reply.


"I am not sure," said Mr. Palliser, making his way out as he had originally purposed.

"I am not sure," said Mr. Palliser, making his way out as he had intended.


Then he went on his way across Park Lane and into the Park, never once turning back his face to see whether Burgo had effected an entrance into the house.

Then he went on his way across Park Lane and into the Park, never once turning back to see whether Burgo had entered the house.


Nor did he return a minute earlier than he would otherwise have done.


After all, there was something chivalrous about the man.


"Yes; Lady Glencora was at home," said the porter, not stirring to make any further inquiry.

"Yes; Lady Glencora was at home," said the porter.


It was no business of his if Mr. Palliser chose to receive such a guest.


He had not been desired to say that her ladyship was not at home.


Burgo was therefore admitted and shown direct up into the room in which Lady Glencora was sitting.


Alice had left her and was in her own chamber, and Lady Glencora was sitting at the window of the small room up-stairs that overlooked the Park.


She was seated on a footstool with her face between her hands when Burgo was admitted, thinking of him, and of what the world might have been to her had "they left her alone," as she was in the habit of saying to Alice and to herself.

on a footstool with her face between her hands. She was thinking of Burgo, and of what the world might have been to her had she been allowed to marry him.


She rose quickly, so that he saw her only as she was rising.


"Ask Miss Vavasor to come to me," she said, as the servant left the room; and then she came forward to greet her lover.


"Cora," he said, dashing at once into his subject--hopelessly, but still with a resolve to do as he had said that he would do.

"Cora," he said, dashing at once into his subject.


"Cora, I have come to you, to ask you to go with me."

"Cora, I have come to ask you to go with me."


"Do not answer me in that way, without a moment's thought.


"Yes, everything is arranged," she said.


"Mr. Fitzgerald, let me ask you to leave me alone, and to behave to me with generosity.


You can see that my boxes are all prepared for going.


Mr. Palliser and I, and my friend, are starting to-morrow.

Mr. Palliser and I, and my friend, are starting tomorrow.


Wish me God-speed and go, and be generous."


"And is this to be the end of everything?"


He was standing close to her, but hitherto he had only touched her hand at greeting her.


"No;--I will never give you my hand again.

"No; I will never give you my hand again.


This is to be the end of everything,--of everything that is common to you and to me.


But we were separated, and there was no room for love left between us."


"You are as dear to me now,--dearer than ever you were.

"You are dearer to me than ever you were.


Did you not tell me when we last parted that I might come to you again?


Are we children, that others should come between us and separate us like that?"

Are we children, that others should come separate us like that?"


As she spoke the door was opened and Alice entered the room.


"Miss Vavasor, Mr. Fitzgerald," said Lady Glencora.


Now that you have come, Alice, he will perhaps obey me."


Alice was dumbfounded, and knew not how to speak either to him or to her; but she stood with her eyes riveted on the face of the man of whom she had heard so much.

Alice was dumbfounded; but she stood with her eyes riveted on the face of the man of whom she had heard so much.


She had never before seen man's beauty such as that.


She found it quite impossible to speak a word to him then--at the spur of the moment, but she acknowledged the introduction with a slight inclination of the head, and then stood silent, as though she were waiting for him to go.

She found it quite impossible to speak a word to him, but she acknowledged the introduction with a slight nod, and then stood silent, as though waiting for him to go.


"Mr. Fitzgerald, why do you not leave me and go?"

"Mr. Fitzgerald, why do you not leave me?"


Poor Burgo also found it difficult enough to speak.


His cause was one which certainly did not admit of being pleaded in the presence of a strange lady; and he might have known from the moment in which he heard Glencora's request that a third person should be summoned to their meeting--and probably did know, that there was no longer any hope for him.


It was not on the cards that he should win.


But there remained one thing that he must do.


He must get himself out of that room; and how was he to effect that?


"I had hoped," said he, looking at Alice, though he addressed Lady Glencora--"I had hoped to be allowed to speak to you alone for a few minutes."

"I had hoped to talk to you alone for a few minutes."


I sent for my cousin when I saw you, because I did not choose to be alone with you.

I sent for my cousin because I did not choose to be alone with you.


"Then, Mr. Fitzgerald," said Alice, "why do you not do as Lady Glencora has asked you?


You know--you must know, that you ought not to be here."

You must know that you ought not to be here."


"I know nothing of the kind," said he, still standing his ground.


"Alice," said Lady Glencora, "we will leave Mr. Fitzgerald here, since he drives us from the room."


In such contests, a woman has ever the best of it at all points.


The man plays with a button to his foil, while the woman uses a weapon that can really wound.


Burgo knew that he must go,--felt that he must skulk away as best he might, and perhaps hear a low titter of half-suppressed laughter as he went.

Burgo knew then that he must go - must skulk away as best he might.


"No, Lady Glencora," he said, "I will not drive you from the room.


As one must be driven out, it shall be I. I own I did think that you would at any rate have been--less hard to me."

I did think that you would at any rate have been less hard to me."


He then turned to go, bowing again very slightly to Miss Vavasor.


He was on the threshold of the door before Glencora's voice recalled him.

He was on the threshold before Glencora's voice recalled him.


she said, "I am hard,--harder than flint.

she said. "I am hard - harder than flint.


And he was back with her in a moment, and had taken her by the hand.


"Glencora," said Alice, "pray,--pray let him go.

"Glencora," said Alice, "pray - pray let him go.


Mr. Fitzgerald, if you are a man, do not take advantage of her folly."


"I will speak to him," said Lady Glencora.


"I will speak to him, and then he shall leave me."


She was holding him by the hand now and turning to him, away from Alice, who had taken her by the arm.


"Burgo," she said, repeating his name twice again, with all the passion that she could throw into the word,--"Burgo, no good can come of this.

"Burgo," she said, with all the passion that she could throw into the word, "Burgo, no good can come of this.


I shall stay with my husband as I am bound to do.


Because I have wronged you, I will not wrong him also.


She still held him by the hand, and was now gazing up into his face, while the tears were streaming from her eyes.


"Sir," said Alice, "you have heard from her all that you can care to hear.


If you have any feeling of honour in you, you will leave her."

if you have any feeling of honour in you, you will leave her."


"I will never leave her, while she tells me that she loves me!"


I shall never tell you that again, never.


Go, and leave us;--but I could not bear that you should tell me that I was hard."

Go, and leave us; but I could not bear that you should tell me that I was hard."


"You are hard;--hard and cruel, as you said, yourself."

"You are hard and cruel, as you said yourself."


May God forgive you for saying that of me!"


"Because I am a man's wife, and because I care for his honour, if not for my own.


He still held her, but she would have been gone from him had he not stooped over her, and put his arm round her waist.

He still held her, and before she could pull away he


In doing this, I doubt whether he was quicker than she would have been had she chosen to resist him.


As it was, he pressed her to his bosom, and, stooping over her, kissed her lips.


Then he left her, and making his way out of the room, and down the stairs, got himself out into the street.


"You may say so," said Lady Glencora, "for you have lost nothing!"


I did not know that I had ever gained anything, as yet.


The only human being to whom I have ever yet given my whole heart,--the only thing that I have ever really loved, has just gone from me for ever, and you bid me thank God that I have lost him.

The only human being to whom I have ever yet given my whole heart - the only thing that I have ever really loved - has just gone from me for ever, and you bid me thank God that I have lost him.


There is no room for thankfulness in any of it;--either in the love or in the loss.


It is all wretchedness from first to last!"


"At any rate, he understands now that you meant it when you told him to leave you."


I am beginning to know myself by degrees.


As for running away with him, I have not the courage to do it.


I can think of it, scheme for it, wish for it;--but as for doing it, that is beyond me.

I can think of it, but as for doing it, that is beyond me.


Alice knew that it was useless to argue with her, so she came and sat over her,--for Lady Glencora had again placed herself on the stool by the window,--and tried to sooth her by smoothing her hair, and nursing her like a child.

Alice came and sat by her, and tried to sooth her by smoothing her hair, and nursing her like a child.


"Of course I know that I ought to stay where I am," she said, breaking out, almost with rage, and speaking with quick, eager voice.

"Of course I know that I ought to stay where I am," she said, breaking out almost with rage.


"I am not such a fool as to mistake what I should be if I left my husband, and went to live with that man as his mistress.


You don't suppose that I should think that sort of life very blessed.


But why have I been brought to such a pass as this?


What was their idea of purity when they forced me, like ogres, to marry a man for whom they knew I never cared?

What was their idea of purity when they forced me to marry a man for whom they knew I never cared?


Had I gone with him,--had I now eloped with that man who ought to have been my husband,--whom would a just God have punished worst,--me, or those two old women and my uncle, who tortured me into this marriage?"

If I had eloped with that man who ought to have been my husband, whom would a just God have punished worst - me, or those two old women and my uncle, who tortured me into this marriage?"


You have had the making of your own lot.


You have done what you liked, and no one has interfered with you.


You have suffered, too; but you, at any rate, can respect yourself."

You have suffered, too; but at any rate you can respect yourself."


"And so can you, Cora,--thoroughly, now."

"And so can you, Cora - thoroughly, now."


"How;--when he kissed me, and I could hardly restrain myself from giving him back his kiss tenfold, could I respect myself?

"How; when he kissed me, and I could hardly restrain myself from giving him back his kiss tenfold?


I sin towards my husband, feigning that I love him; and I sin in loving that other man, who should have been my husband.

I sin towards my husband, pretending that I love him; and I sin in loving that other man, who should have been my husband.


There;--I hear Mr. Palliser at the door.


Come away with me; or rather, stay, for he will come up here, and you can keep him in talk while I try to recover myself."

Come away with me; or rather, stay, for he will come up here, and you can keep him talking while I try to recover myself."


Mr. Palliser did at once as his wife had said, and came up-stairs to the little front room, as soon as he had deposited his hat in the hall.

Mr. Palliser came upstairs as soon as he had deposited his hat in the hall.


Alice was, in fact, in doubt what she should do, as to mentioning, or omitting to mention, Mr. Fitzgerald's name.

Alice was, in fact, in doubt about whether she should mention Mr. Fitzgerald's name.


In an ordinary way, it would be natural that she should name any visitor who had called, and she specially disliked the idea of remaining silent because that visitor had come as the lover of her host's wife.


But, on the other hand, she owed much to Lady Glencora; and there was no imperative reason, as things had gone, why she should make mischief.


There was no further danger to be apprehended.


But Mr. Palliser at once put an end to her doubts.


"I saw him as I went out," said Mr. Palliser.


He, of course, was wrong to come here;--so wrong, that he deserves punishment, if there were any punishment for such offences."


"He has been punished, I think," said Alice.


"But as for Glencora," continued Mr. Palliser, without any apparent notice of what Alice had said, "I thought it better that she should see him or not, as she should herself decide."


As it turned out, he was shown up here at once.


She sent for me, and I think she was right to do that."


"For a minute or two,--till I could get to her."

"For a minute or two, till I could get to her."


"I have no questions to ask about it," said Mr. Palliser, after waiting for a few moments.


He had probably thought that Alice would say something further.


"I am very glad that you were within reach of her, as otherwise her position might have been painful.


For her, and for me perhaps, it may be as well that he has been here.

Perhaps it may be as well that he has been here.


As for him, I can only say, that I am forced to suppose him to be a villain.


What a man does when driven by passion, I can forgive; but that he should deliberately plan schemes to ruin both her and me, is what I can hardly understand."


As he made this little speech I wonder whether his conscience said anything to him about Lady Dumbello, and a certain evening in his own life, on which he had ventured to call that lady, Griselda.

As he made this little speech I wonder whether his conscience said anything to him about Lady Dumbello, and a certain evening in his own life.


The little party of three dined together very quietly, and after dinner they all went to work with their novels.

The little party of three dined together very quietly, and after dinner they all read their novels.


Before long Alice saw that Mr. Palliser was yawning, and she began to understand how much he had given up in order that his wife might be secure.


It was then, when he had left the room for a few minutes, in order that he might wake himself by walking about the house, that Glencora told Alice of his yawning down at Matching.

When he left the room for a few minutes to wake himself up by walking about the house, Glencora told Alice of his yawning down at Matching.


"I used to think that he would fall in pieces.


"That's all very well," said the other; "but he'll set us off yawning as bad as himself, and then he'll notice it.

"That's all very well; but he'll set us off yawning too, and then he'll notice it.


He has given himself up to politics, till nothing else has any salt in it left for him.


I cannot think why such a man as that wanted a wife at all."

I cannot think why such a man wanted a wife at all."


"I wish you were his wife, with all my heart.


But, of course, I know why he got married.


And I ought to feel for him as he has been so grievously disappointed."


Then Mr. Palliser having walked off his sleep, returned to the room, and the remainder of the evening was passed in absolute tranquillity.

Then Mr. Palliser returned to the room, and the remainder of the evening was passed in tranquillity.


Burgo Fitzgerald, when he left the house, turned back into Grosvenor Square, not knowing, at first, whither he was going.


He took himself as far as his uncle's door, and then, having paused there for a moment, hurried on.


For half an hour, or thereabouts, something like true feeling was at work within his heart.


He had once more pressed to his bosom the woman he had, at any rate, thought that he had loved.

He had once more pressed to his bosom the woman he thought that he had loved.


He had had his arm round her, and had kissed her, and the tone with which she had called him by his name was still ringing in his ears, "Burgo!"

He had kissed her, and her voice was still ringing in his ears.


He repeated his own name audibly to himself, as though in this way he could recall her voice.


He comforted himself for a minute with the conviction that she loved him.


He felt,--for a moment,--that he could live on such consolation as that!

He felt - for a moment - that he could live on such consolation as that!


But among mortals there could, in truth, hardly be one with whom such consolation would go a shorter way.

But in truth, there was hardly a man less capable of living on such consolation.


He was a man who required to have such comfort backed by pats and curaoa to a very large extent, and now it might be doubted whether the amount of pats and curaoa at his command would last him much longer.


He would not go in and tell his aunt at once of his failure, as he could gain nothing by doing so.

He would not go in and tell his aunt at once of his failure.


Indeed, he thought that he would not tell his aunt at all.

Indeed, he thought he would not tell his aunt at all.


So he turned back from Grosvenor Square, and went down to his club in St. James's Street, feeling that billiards and brandy-and-water might, for the present, be the best restorative.

So he turned back from Grosvenor Square, and went to his club in St. James's Street, feeling that billiards and brandy-and-water might be the best restorative.


But, as he went back, he blamed himself very greatly in the matter of those bank-notes which he had allowed Lady Monk to take from him.

He blamed himself greatly for letting Lady Monk take those banknotes from him.


How had it come to pass that he had been such a dupe in her hands?


When he entered his club in St. James's Street his mind had left Lady Glencora, and was hard at work considering how he might best contrive to get that spoil out of his aunt's possession.

When he entered his club his mind had left Lady Glencora, and was considering how he might best get that spoil out of his aunt's possession.


During these days Mrs. Greenow was mistress of the old Hall down in Westmoreland, and was nursing Kate assiduously through the calamity of her broken arm.

During these days Mrs. Greenow was mistress of the old Hall down in Westmorland, and was nursing Kate.


There had come to be a considerable amount of confidence between the aunt and the niece.

The aunt and the niece had confided much in each other.


Kate had acknowledged to her aunt that her brother had behaved badly,--very badly; and the aunt had confessed to the niece that she regarded Captain Bellfield as a fit subject for compassion.

Kate had acknowledged that her brother had behaved badly; and the aunt had confessed to the niece that she regarded Captain Bellfield as a fit subject for compassion.


"And he was violent to you, and broke your arm?


I always knew it was so," Mrs. Greenow had said, speaking with reference to her nephew.

I always knew he was violent," Mrs. Greenow had said.


When he went away and left me, he knew nothing about it.


And if he had broken both my arms I should not have cared much.


But that which Kate could not forgive him was the fault which she had herself committed.

What she could not forgive was the fault which she had herself committed.


For his sake she had done her best to separate Alice and John Grey, and George had shown himself to be unworthy of the kindness of her treachery.

For his sake she had tried to separate Alice and John Grey, and George had shown himself to be unworthy.


"I would give all I have in the world to bring them together again," Kate said.


"They'll come together fast enough if they like each other," said Mrs. Greenow.


"Alice is young still, and they tell me she's as good looking as ever.


A girl with her money won't have far to seek for a husband, even if this paragon from Cambridgeshire should not turn up again."

A girl with her money won't have to seek far for a husband."


But I know what young women are, and I know what young men are.


All this nonsense about her cousin George,--what difference will it make?


A man like Mr. Grey won't care about that,--especially not if she tells him all about it.

A man like Mr. Grey won't care about all that nonsense with her cousin George - especially if she tells him all about it."


My belief is that a girl can have anything forgiven her, if she'll only tell it herself."


But Kate preferred the other subject, and so, I think, did Mrs. Greenow herself.

But Kate preferred the subject of the Captain, and so, I think, did Mrs. Greenow herself.


"Of course, my dear," she would say, "marriage with me, if I should marry again, would be a very different thing to your marriage, or that of any other young person.


As for love, that has been all over for me since poor Greenow died.

as for love, that has been all over for me since poor Greenow died.


I have known nothing of the softness of affection since I laid him in his cold grave, and never can again.


'Captain Bellfield,' I said to him, 'if you were to kneel at my feet for years, it would not make me care for you in the way of love.'"

'Captain Bellfield,' I said to him, 'if you were to kneel at my feet for years, it would not make me love you.'"


"He talked nonsense about my beauty, as all the men do.


If a woman were hump-backed, and had only one eye, they wouldn't be ashamed to tell her she was a Venus."


"But, aunt, you are a handsome woman, you know."


"Laws, my dear, as if I didn't understand all about it; as if I didn't know what makes a woman run after?

"Laws, my dear, it isn't beauty as makes men run after a woman


It isn't beauty,--and it isn't money altogether.


I've seen women who had plenty of both, and not a man would come nigh them.

I've seen women who had plenty of both, and not a man dared come


There are some of them, a man would as soon think of putting his arm round a poplar tree, they are so hard and so stiff.


You know you're a little that way yourself, Kate, and I've always told you it won't do."

You know you're a little that way yourself, Kate."


"Not at all, if you'll only set your wits to work and try.


You've plenty of money now, and you're good-looking enough, too, when you take the trouble to get yourself up.

You've plenty of money now, and you're good-looking enough, when you take the trouble.


But, as I said before, it isn't that that's wanted.

But, as I said before, that's not important.


There's a stand-off about some women,--what the men call a 'nollimy tangere,' that a man must be quite a furious Orlando to attempt to get the better of it.


They look as though matrimony itself were improper, and as if they believed that little babies were found about in the hedges and ditches.

: they look as though marriage itself were improper, and as if they believed that little babies were found in the hedges and ditches.


There are some of them a deal too backward, according to my way of thinking."

There are some a deal too backward, according to my way of thinking.


"Yours is a comfortable doctrine, aunt."


Why shouldn't things be nice about one when one's got the means?


Nobody can say it's a pleasant thing to live alone.


I always thought that man in the song hit it off properly.


'The poker and tongs to each other belongs.'


So they do, and that should be the way with men and women."


"But the poker and tongs have but a bad life of it sometimes."

"But the poker and tongs have a bad life of it sometimes."


"Not so often as the people say, my dear.


Men and women ain't like lumps of sugar.


They don't melt because the water is sometimes warm.


Now, if I do take Bellfield,--and I really think I shall; but if I do he'll give me a deal of trouble.

Now, if I do take Bellfield - and I really think I shall; but I know he'll give me a deal of trouble.


He'll always be wanting my money, and, of course, he'll get more than he ought.


I'm not a Solomon, nor yet a Queen of Sheba, no more than anybody else.


And he'll smoke too many cigars, and perhaps drink more brandy-and-water than he ought.

And he'll smoke too many cigars, and perhaps drink more brandy-and-water than he should.


And he'll be making eyes, too, at some of the girls who'll be fools enough to let him."

And he'll be making eyes, too, at the girls who are fools enough to let him."


"Dear me, aunt, if I thought all that ill of him, I'm sure I wouldn't marry him;--especially as you say you don't love him."

"Dear me, aunt, if I thought that ill of him, I wouldn't marry him - especially as you say you don't love him."


"As for love, my dear, that's gone,--clear gone!"


Whereupon Mrs. Greenow put up her handkerchief to her eyes.


"Some women can love twice, but I am not one of them."


These last words were spoken in a tone of solemn regret, which, however, she contrived to change as quickly as she had adopted it.

Then her solemn tone changed as she went on.


"But my dear, marriage is a comfortable thing.


And then, though the Captain may be a little free, I don't doubt but what I shall get the upper hand with him at last.

And I don't doubt that I shall get the upper hand with the Captain at last.


I shan't stop his cigars and brandy-and-water you know.

I shan't stop his cigars and brandy-and-water.


Why shouldn't a man smoke and have a glass, if he don't make a beast of himself?


And then," she added, speaking tenderly of her absent lover, "I do think he's fond of me,--I do, indeed."

And then," she added tenderly, "I do think he's fond of me - I do, indeed."


"So is Mr. Cheesacre for the matter of that."


I believe he was, though he did talk so much about money.


I always like to believe the best I can of them.


But then there was no poetry about Cheesy.


I don't care about saying it now, as you've quite made up your mind not to have him."

I don't care about saying it now, as you've made up your mind not to have him."


"Your grandfather's will does make a difference, you know.

"Your grandfather's will does make a difference.


But, as I was saying, I do like a little romance about them,--just a sniff, as I call it, of the rocks and valleys.

But, as I was saying, I do like a little romance - just a sniff, as I call it, of the rocks and valleys.


One knows that it doesn't mean much; but it's like artificial flowers,--it gives a little colour, and takes off the dowdiness.

One knows that it doesn't mean much; but it's like artificial flowers - it gives a little colour, and takes off the dowdiness.


Of course, bread-and-cheese is the real thing.


The rocks and valleys are no good at all, if you haven't got that, But enough is as good as a feast.


Thanks to dear Greenow,"--here the handkerchief was again used--"Thanks to dear Greenow, I shall never want.


Of course I shan't let any of the money go into his hands,--the Captain's, I mean.

Of course I shan't let any of the money go into the Captain's hands.


I know a trick worth two of that, my dear.


What's the good of a woman's wanting to keep it all to herself?"


[Illustration: A sniff of the rocks and valleys.]


"And you think you'll really take him, aunt, and pay his washerwoman's bills for him?

"And you think you'll really take him, aunt?"


You remember what you told me when I first saw him?"


And if he can't pay his own washerwoman, isn't that so much more of a reason that I should do it for him?


That is, if he lets me take him just as I choose.


In this way the aunt and niece became very confidential, and Mrs. Greenow whispered into Kate's ears her belief that Captain Bellfield might possibly make his way across the country to Westmoreland.

Then Mrs. Greenow whispered to Kate her belief that Captain Bellfield might possibly travel to Westmorland.


"There would be no harm in offering him a bed, would there?"


"You see the inn at Shap is a long way off for morning calls."

"The inn at Shap is a long way off for morning calls."


Kate could not take upon herself to say that there would be any harm, but she did not like the idea of having Captain Bellfield as a visitor.

Kate did not like the idea of having Captain Bellfield as a visitor.


"After all, perhaps he mayn't come," said the widow.


"I don't see where he is to raise the money for such a journey, now that he has quarrelled with Mr. Cheesacre."


"If Captain Bellfield must come to Vavasor Hall, at any rate let him not come till Alice's visit had been completed."

"If he must come, at least let him not come till after Alice's visit."


That was Kate's present wish, and so much she ventured to confide to her aunt.


But there seemed to be no way of stopping him.


"I don't in the least know where he is, my dear, and as for writing to him, I never did such a thing in my life, and I shouldn't know how to begin."

"I don't know where he is, my dear, and as for writing to him, I shouldn't know how to begin."


Mrs. Greenow declared that she had not positively invited the Captain; but on this point Kate hardly gave full credit to her aunt's statement.

Although Mrs. Greenow declared that she had not positively invited the Captain, Kate did not entirely believe her.


Alice arrived, and, for a day or two, the three ladies lived very pleasantly together.


Kate still wore her arm in a sling; but she was able to walk out, and would take long walks in spite of the doctor's prohibition.

Kate wore her arm in a sling; but she was able to walk out, and would take long walks in spite of the doctor's advice.


Of course, they went up on the mountains.


Indeed, all the walks from Vavasor Hall led to the mountains, unless one chose to take the road to Shap.


But they went up, across the beacon hill, as though by mutual consent.


There were no questions asked between them as to the route to be taken; and though they did not reach the stone on which they had once sat looking over upon Haweswater, they did reach the spot upon which Kate had encountered her accident.

and reached the spot where Kate had met with her accident.


"It was here I fell," she said; "and the last I saw of him was his back, as he made his way down into the valley, there.

"It was here I fell," she said; "and the last I saw of him was his back, as he went down into the valley.


When I got upon my legs I could still see him.


It was one of those evenings when the clouds are dark, but you can see all objects with a peculiar clearness through the air.


I stood here ever so long, holding my arm, and watching him; but he never once turned to look back at me.


Do you know, Alice, I fancy that I shall never see him again."


"Do you suppose that he means to quarrel with you altogether?"


He seemed to me to be going away from me, as though he went into another world.

He seemed to me to be going away from me, as though into another world.


His figure against the light was quite clear, and he walked quickly, and on he went, till the slope of the hill hid him from me.


Of course, I thought that he would return to the Hall.


At one time I almost feared that he would come upon me through the woods, as I went back myself.

At one time I almost feared that he would come upon me through the woods, as I went back.


But yet, I had a feeling,--what people call a presentiment, that I should never see him again."

But still, I had a feeling that I should never see him again."


You must remember that he did not know that I had hurt myself.


I am sure he will not write, and I am sure, also, that I shall not.


If he wanted money I would send it to him, but I would not write to him."

If he wanted money I would send it to him, but I will not write to him."


"I fear he will always want money, Kate."


If you could know what I suffered when he made me write that letter to you!


Of course, I ought not to have written it."


He should have starved in the street before he had taken your money.

He should have starved in the street before he took your money.


He should have given up Parliament, and everything else!


I had doubted much about him before, but it was that which first turned my heart against him.

It was that which first turned my heart against him.


I had begun to fear that he was not such a man as I had always thought him,--as I had spoken of him to you."

I began to fear that he was not such a man as I had always thought him, and spoken of him."


"I had judged of him for myself," said Alice.

"I had judged him for myself," said Alice.


But I had endeavoured to make you judge kindly.

But I had tried to make you judge kindly.


we have both suffered for him; you more than I, perhaps; but I, too, have given up everything for him.

we have both suffered for him. I, too, have given up everything for him.


I have been his creature, to do his bidding, just as he might tell me.


He made me do things that I knew to be wrong,--things that were foreign to my own nature; and yet I almost worshipped him.

He made me do things that I knew were wrong, and yet I almost worshipped him.


Even now, if he were to come back, I believe that I should forgive him everything."

Even now, if he came back, I believe that I should forgive him everything."


"I should forgive him, but I could never do more."


He will never ask us to forgive him, or even wish it.


"He has longed for money till the Devil has hardened his heart," said Alice.


"And yet how tender he could be in his manner when he chose it;--how soft he could make his words and his looks!

And yet how tender he could be when he chose!


Do you remember how he behaved to us in Switzerland?


Do you remember that balcony at Basle, and the night we sat there, when the boys were swimming down the river?"

Do you remember that balcony at Basle, and the night we sat there?"


Alice, I would give all I have in the world, if I could recall that journey to Switzerland."

Alice, I would give all I have in the world, if I could undo that journey to Switzerland


Whether I stayed in Westmoreland or went abroad, I must have found out that my god was made of bricks and clay instead of gold.


But there was no need for you to be crushed in the ruins."


"Of course, you are too proud to own it?"


"If you mean about Mr. Grey, that would have happened just the same, whether I had gone abroad or remained at home."

"Kate, what happened with Mr. Grey would have happened just the same, whether I had gone abroad or remained at home."


There was nothing more than this said between them about Mr. Grey.

There was nothing more than this said about Mr. Grey.


Even to her cousin, Alice could not bring herself to talk freely on that subject.

Alice could not bring herself to talk freely about him.


She would never allow herself to think, for a moment, that she had been persuaded by others to treat him as she had treated him.

She would never allow herself to think, for a moment, that she had been persuaded by others to treat him as she had.


She was sure that she had acted on her own convictions of what was right and wrong; and now, though she had begun to feel that she had been wrong, she would hardly confess as much even to herself.


They walked back, down the hill, to the Hall in silence for the greater part of the way.

They walked back to the Hall mostly in silence.


Once or twice Kate repeated her conviction that she should never again see her brother.


"I do not know what may happen to him," she said in answer to her cousin's questions; "but when he was passing out of my sight into the valley, I felt that I was looking at him for the last time."


"That is simply what people call a presentiment," Alice replied.


"Exactly so; and presentiments, of course, mean nothing," said Kate.


Then they walked on towards the house without further speech; but when they reached the end of the little path which led out of the wood, on to the gravelled sweep before the front door, they were both arrested by a sight that met their eyes.

As they came out of the wood, they were arrested by the sight of


There was a man standing, with a cigar in his mouth, before them, swinging a little cane, and looking about him up at the wood.

a man standing with a cigar in his mouth, swinging a little cane, and looking around.


He had on his head a jaunty little straw-hat, and he wore a jacket with brass buttons, and white trousers.

He wore a jaunty little straw-hat, a jacket with brass buttons, and white trousers.


It was now nearly the middle of May, but the summer does not come to Westmoreland so early as that, and the man, as he stood there looking about him, seemed to be cold and almost uncomfortable.

It was now nearly the middle of May, but the summer does not come to Westmorland so early as that, and the man seemed to be cold and uncomfortable.


He had not as yet seen the two girls, who stood at the end of the walk, arrested by the sight of him.


"Captain Bellfield," said Kate, speaking with something very like dismay in her voice.

"Captain Bellfield," said Kate, dismayed.


I have been fearing this, and now, what on earth are we to do with him?

"I have been fearing this. What on earth are we to do with him?


That's what aunt Greenow calls a sniff of the rocks and valleys."


The Captain began to move,--just to move, as though it were necessary to do something to keep the life in his limbs.


He had finished his cigar, and looked at the end of it with manifest regret.


As he threw it away among a tuft of shrubs his eye fell upon the two ladies, and he uttered a little exclamation.

as he threw it away among the shrubs his eye fell upon the two ladies. He uttered an exclamation,


Then he came forward, waving his little straw-hat in his hand, and made his salutation.


"Miss Vavasor, I am delighted," he said.


"Miss Alice Vavasor, if I am not mistaken?


I have been commissioned by my dear friend Mrs. Greenow to go out and seek you, but, upon my word, the woods looked so black that I did not dare to venture;--and then, of course, I shouldn't have found you."

I have been asked by my dear friend Mrs. Greenow to go out and seek you."


Kate put out her left hand, and then introduced her cousin to the Captain.

Kate introduced her cousin to the Captain,


Again he waved his little straw-hat, and strove to bear himself as though he were at home and comfortable.

who strove to bear himself as though he were comfortably at home.


But he failed, and it was manifest that he failed.


He was not the Bellfield who had conquered Mr. Cheesacre on the sands at Yarmouth, though he wore the same jacket and waistcoat, and must now have enjoyed the internal satisfaction of feeling that his future maintenance in life was assured to him.

He was not the Bellfield who had conquered Mr. Cheesacre on the sands at Yarmouth, though he wore the same jacket and waistcoat.


His courage had sufficed to enable him to follow his quarry into Westmoreland, but it did not suffice to make him comfortable while he was there.


Kate instantly perceived his condition, and wickedly resolved that she would make no effort to assist him.

Kate instantly saw this, and wickedly resolved that she would make no effort to help him.


She went through some ceremony of introduction, and then expressed her surprise at seeing him so far north.

She expressed her surprise at seeing him so far north.


"Well," said he; "I am a little surprised myself;--I am, indeed!

"Well," said he; "I am a little surprised myself.


But I had nothing to do in Norwich,--literally nothing; and your aunt had so often talked to me of the beauties of this place,"--and he waved his hand round at the old house and the dark trees,--"that I thought I'd take the liberty of paying you a flying visit.

But your aunt had so often talked to me of the beauties of this place that I thought I'd take the liberty of paying you a flying visit.


I didn't mean to intrude in the way of sleeping; I didn't indeed, Miss Vavasor; only Mrs. Greenow has been so kind as to say--"

I didn't mean to intrude in the way of sleeping; I didn't indeed, Miss Vavasor; only Mrs. Greenow has been so kind as to say-"


"We are so very far out of the world, Captain Bellfield, that we always give our visitors beds."


"I didn't intend it; I didn't indeed, miss!"


Poor Captain Bellfield was becoming very uneasy in his agitation.

Poor Captain Bellfield was becoming very uneasy.


"I did just put my bag, with a change of things, into the gig, which brought me over, not knowing quite where I might go on to."

"I did just put my bag, with a change of things, into the gig, not knowing quite where I might go on to."


"We won't send you any further to-day, at any rate," said Kate.

"We won't send you any further today, at any rate," said Kate.


"Mrs. Greenow has been very kind,--very kind, indeed.


She has asked me to stay till--Saturday!"

She has asked me to stay till - Saturday!"


Kate bit her lips in a momentary fit of anger.


The house was her house, and not her aunt's.


But she remembered that her aunt had been kind to her at Norwich and at Yarmouth, and she allowed this feeling to die away.

But she remembered that her aunt had been kind to her, and she allowed this feeling to die away.


"We shall be very glad to see you," she said.


"We are three women together here, and I'm afraid you will find us rather dull."

, "though I'm afraid you will find us rather dull."


"And how have you left your friend, Mr. Cheesacre?"


That is to say, I haven't seen him much lately.


He and I did have a bit of a breeze, you know."


"I can't say that I did know, Captain Bellfield."


He seemed to think that I was too particular in a certain quarter!


They then went into the house, and the Captain straggled in after them.

They went into the house, and the Captain straggled in after them.


Mrs. Greenow was in neither of the two sitting-rooms which they usually occupied.


She, too, had been driven somewhat out of the ordinary composure of her manner by the arrival of her lover,--even though she had expected it, and had retired to her room, thinking that she had better see Kate in private before they met in the presence of the Captain.

, who had been somewhat discomposed by the manner of her lover's arrival - even though she had expected it - had retired to her room.


"I suppose you have seen my aunt since you have been here?"


I saw her, and she suggested that I had better walk out and find you.


I did find you, you know, though I didn't walk very far."


Mrs. Greenow was kind enough to show me.


Very nice indeed, thank you;--looking out into the front, and all that kind of thing."


The poor fellow was no doubt thinking how much better was his lot at Vavasor Hall than it had been at Oileymead.


"I shan't stay long, Miss Vavasor,--only just a night or so; but I did want to see your aunt again,--and you, too, upon my word."

I shan't stay long, Miss Vavasor - only a night or so; but I did want to see your aunt again - and you, too, upon my word."


"My aunt is the attraction, Captain Bellfield.


He actually simpered,--simpered like a young girl who is half elated and half ashamed when her lover is thrown in her teeth.


He fidgeted with the things on the table, and moved himself about uneasily from one leg to the other.

He fidgeted, and shifted from one leg to the other.


Perhaps he was remembering that though he had contrived to bring himself to Vavasor Hall he had not money enough left to take him back to Norwich.

Perhaps he was remembering that he had not money enough left to take him back to Norwich.


The two girls left him and went to their rooms.


"I will go to my aunt at once," said Kate, "and find out what is to be done."


"Oh, yes; she means to marry him, and the sooner the better now.


I knew this was coming, but I did so hope it would not be while you were here.

I knew this was coming, but I did hope it would not be while you were here."


It makes me feel so ashamed of myself that you should see it."


Kate boldly knocked at her aunt's door, and her aunt received her with a conscious smile.


"I was waiting for you to come," said Mrs. Greenow.


"Here I am, aunt; and, what is more to the purpose, there is Captain Bellfield in the drawing-room."


I told him to take himself away about the place till dinner-time.

I told him to take himself away till dinner-time.


I've half a mind to send him back to Shap at once;--upon my word I have."

I've half a mind to send him back to Shap at once.


"Don't do that, aunt; it would be inhospitable."


I hope you understand, my dear, that I couldn't help it?"


"But you do mean to--to marry him, aunt; don't you?"

"But you do mean to - to marry him, aunt; don't you?"


It's a lonely sort of life being by myself; and, upon my word, I don't think there's very much harm in him."

It's a lonely sort of life being by myself; and I don't think there's very much harm in him."


"I am not saying anything against him; only in that case you can't very well turn him out of the house."


I could in a minute; and, if you wish it, you shall see if I can't do it."


"The rocks and valleys would not allow that, aunt."


"It's all very well for you to laugh, my dear.


If laughing would break my bones I shouldn't be as whole as I am now.


I might have had Cheesacre if I liked, who is a substantial man, and could have kept a carriage for me; but it was the rocks and valleys that prevented that;--and perhaps a little feeling that I might do some good to a poor fellow who has nobody in the world to look after him."

I might have had Cheesacre if I liked, who could have kept a carriage for me; but it was the rocks and valleys that prevented that; - and perhaps a feeling that I might do some good to a poor fellow who has nobody in the world to look after him."


Mrs. Greenow, as she said this, put her handkerchief up to her eyes, and wiped away the springing moisture.


Tears were always easy with her, but on this occasion Kate almost respected her tears.


"I'm sure I hope you'll be happy, aunt."


"If he makes me unhappy he shall pay for it;" and Mrs. Greenow, having done with the tears, shook her head, as though upon this occasion she quite meant all that she said.

"If he makes me unhappy he shall pay for it;" and Mrs. Greenow shook her head, as though she meant it.


At dinner they were not very comfortable.


Either the gloomy air of the place and the neighbourhood of the black pines had depressed the Captain, or else the glorious richness of the prospects before him had made him thoughtful.


He had laid aside the jacket with the brass buttons, and had dressed himself for dinner very soberly.


And he behaved himself at dinner and after dinner with a wonderful sobriety, being very unlike the Captain who had sat at the head of the table at Mrs. Greenow's picnic.

And he behaved himself with an amazing sobriety, very unlike the Captain of Mrs. Greenow's picnic.


When left to himself after dinner he barely swallowed two glasses of the old Squire's port wine before he sauntered out into the garden to join the ladies, whom he had seen there; and when pressed by Kate to light a cigar he positively declined.

After dinner he swallowed only two glasses of the old Squire's port wine before he sauntered out into the garden to join the ladies; and when pressed by Kate to light a cigar, he declined.


On the following morning Mrs. Greenow had recovered her composure, but Captain Bellfield was still in a rather disturbed state of mind.


He knew that his efforts were to be crowned with success, and that he was sure of his wife, but he did not know how the preliminary difficulties were to be overcome, and he did not know what to do with himself at the Hall.

He now knew that his efforts were to be crowned with success, but he did not know how the preliminary difficulties were to be overcome, and he did not know what to do with himself at the Hall.


After breakfast he fidgeted about in the parlour, being unable to contrive for himself a mode of escape, and was absolutely thrown upon his beam-ends when the widow asked him what he meant to do with himself between that and dinner.

After breakfast he fidgeted about in the parlour, and was flummoxed when the widow asked him what he meant to do before dinner.


"I suppose I'd better take a walk," he said; "and perhaps the young ladies--"

"I suppose I'd better take a walk," he said; "and perhaps the young ladies-"


"If you mean my two nieces," said Mrs. Greenow, "I'm afraid you'll find they are engaged.

"I'm afraid my nieces are busy," said Mrs. Greenow.


But if I'm not too old to walk with--" The Captain assured her that she was just of the proper age for a walking companion, as far as his taste went, and then attempted some apology for the awkwardness of his expression, at which the three women laughed heartily.

"But if I'm not too old to walk with you-"
The Captain assured her that she was just the proper age for a walking companion, and then attempted some apology, at which the three women laughed.


"Never mind, Captain," said Mrs. Greenow.


"We'll have our walk all the same, and won't mind those young girls.

"We'll have our walk, and won't mind those young girls.


They started, not up towards the mountains, as Kate always did when she walked in Westmoreland, but mildly, and at a gentle pace, as beseemed their years, along the road towards Shap.

They started at a gentle pace, as beseemed their years, along the road towards Shap.


The Captain politely opened the old gate for the widow, and then carefully closed it again,--not allowing it to swing, as he would have done at Yarmouth.

The Captain politely opened the gate for the widow, and then carefully closed it again, not allowing it to swing, as he would have done at Yarmouth.


Then he tripped up to his place beside her, suggested his arm, which she declined, and walked on for some paces in silence.

Then he offered her his arm, which she declined, and they walked on slowly in silence.


He had done his love-making successfully, and what was he to do next?


They were walking very slowly, and he was cutting the weeds by the roadside with his cane.


He knew by her voice that something special was coming, so he left the weeds and ranged himself close up alongside of her.


"Well, Captain Bellfield,--so I suppose I'm to be good-natured; am I?"

"So I suppose I'm to be good-natured; am I?"


"Arabella, you'll make me the happiest man in the world."


She would have said, "all rocks and valleys," only he would not have understood her.


"It is the great thing that you should intend.


Of course I am going to make a fool of myself."


"If I don't say it, all my friends will say it for me.


It's lucky for you that I don't much care what people say."


The very first day I saw you I thought what a happy fellow I was to meet you.

The very first day I saw you I thought what a lucky fellow I was to meet you.


Then, of course, I was only thinking of your beauty."


Come, Arabella, as we are to be man and wife, you might as well."


At this moment he had got very close to her, and had recovered something of his usual elasticity; but she would not allow him even to put his arm round her waist.

At this moment he had got very close to her, and had recovered something of his usual manner; but she would not allow him even to put his arm round her waist.


"How can you be so impertinent,--and so foolish?"

"How can you be so impertinent - and so foolish?"


"You might as well, you know,--just once."


"Captain Bellfield, I brought you out here not for such fooling as that, but in order that we might have a little chat about business.


If we are to be man and wife, as you say, we ought to understand on what footing we are to begin together.


I'm afraid your own private means are not considerable?"


The Captain hesitated, and poked the ground with his cane.


"Come, Captain Bellfield, let us have the truth at once, and then we shall understand each other."


The Captain still hesitated, and said nothing.


"You must have had something to live upon, I suppose?"

You must have had something to live upon, I suppose."


Then the Captain, by degrees, told his story.


He had a married sister by whom a guinea a week was allowed to him.

He had a married sister from whom a guinea a week was allowed to him.


He had been obliged to sell out of the army, because he was unable to live on his pay as a lieutenant.


The price of his commission had gone to pay his debts, and now,--yes, it was too true,--now he was in debt again.

The price of his commission had gone to pay his debts, and now he was in debt again.


He owed ninety pounds to Cheesacre, thirty-two pounds ten to a tailor at Yarmouth, over seventeen pounds at his lodgings in Norwich.

He owed ninety pounds to Cheesacre, thirty-two pounds ten to a tailor at Yarmouth, and seventeen pounds at his lodgings in Norwich.


At the present moment he had something under thirty shillings in his pocket.

At the present moment he had less than thirty shillings in his pocket.


The tailor at Yarmouth had lent him three pounds in order that he might make his journey into Westmoreland, and perhaps be enabled to pay his debts by getting a rich wife.

The tailor at Yarmouth had lent him three pounds to make his journey into Westmorland, and perhaps to get a rich wife.


In the course of the cross-examination Mrs. Greenow got much information out of him; and then, when she was satisfied that she had learned, not exactly all the truth, but certain indications of the truth, she forgave him all his offences.

Thus Mrs. Greenow got much information out of him; and then, when she was satisfied that she had learned at least some of the truth, she forgave him his offences.


"And now you will give a fellow a kiss,--just one kiss," said the ecstatic Captain, in the height of his bliss.

"And now you will give a fellow a kiss," said the ecstatic Captain.


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

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


Lady Macleod lived at No. 3, Paramount Crescent, in Cheltenham, where she occupied a very handsome first-floor drawing-room, with a bedroom behind it, looking over a stable-yard, and a small room which would have been the dressing-room had the late Sir Archibald been alive, but which was at present called the dining-room: and in it Lady Macleod did dine whenever her larger room was to be used for any purposes of evening company.

Lady Macleod lived at No. 3, Paramount Crescent, in Cheltenham, where she occupied a very handsome first-floor drawing-room, with a bedroom behind it overlooking the stable-yard, and a small dining-room.


The vicinity of the stable-yard was not regarded by the tenant as among the attractions of the house; but it had the effect of lowering the rent, and Lady Macleod was a woman who regarded such matters.

The stable-yard was not attractive; but it lowered the rent.


Her income, though small, would have sufficed to enable her to live removed from such discomforts; but she was one of those women who regard it as a duty to leave something behind them,--even though it be left to those who do not at all want it; and Lady Macleod was a woman who wilfully neglected no duty.

Lady Macleod's income, though small, would have sufficed for her to live without such discomforts; but she thought it her duty to leave some money behind to be inherited.


So she pinched herself, and inhaled the effluvia of the stables, and squabbled with the cabmen, in order that she might bequeath a thousand pounds or two to some Lady Midlothian, who cared, perhaps, little for her, and would hardly thank her memory for the money.

So she inhaled the scent of the stables, and squabbled with the cabmen, in order that she might bequeath a thousand pounds or two to some Lady Midlothian, who would hardly thank her memory for the money.


Had Alice consented to live with her, she would have merged that duty of leaving money behind her in that other duty of finding a home for her adopted niece.


But Alice had gone away, and therefore the money was due to Lady Midlothian rather than to her.