initial commit of ebook 7894HEADmain

11 files changed, 59685 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6833f05
--- /dev/null
+++ b/.gitattributes
@@ -0,0 +1,3 @@
+* text=auto
+*.txt text
+*.md text
diff --git a/7894-0.txt b/7894-0.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7f467b5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/7894-0.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,14258 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Fallen Leaves, by Wilkie Collins
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Fallen Leaves
+
+Author: Wilkie Collins
+
+Release Date: April, 2005 [EBook #7894]
+Posting Date: July 26, 2009
+Last Updated: September 11, 2016
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FALLEN LEAVES ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by James Rusk
+
+
+
+
+
+THE FALLEN LEAVES
+
+By Wilkie Collins
+
+
+To CAROLINE
+
+Experience of the reception of _The Fallen Leaves_ by intelligent
+readers, who have followed the course of the periodical publication at
+home and abroad, has satisfied me that the design of the work speaks
+for itself, and that the scrupulous delicacy of treatment, in certain
+portions of the story, has been as justly appreciated as I could wish.
+Having nothing to explain, and (so far as my choice of subject is
+concerned) nothing to excuse, I leave my book, without any prefatory
+pleading for it, to make its appeal to the reading public on such merits
+as it may possess.
+
+W. C. GLOUCESTER PLACE, LONDON July 1st, 1879
+
+
+
+
+THE PROLOGUE
+
+I
+
+The resistless influences which are one day to reign supreme over
+our poor hearts, and to shape the sad short course of our lives, are
+sometimes of mysteriously remote origin, and find their devious ways to
+us through the hearts and the lives of strangers.
+
+While the young man whose troubled career it is here proposed to follow
+was wearing his first jacket, and bowling his first hoop, a domestic
+misfortune, falling on a household of strangers, was destined
+nevertheless to have its ultimate influence over his happiness, and to
+shape the whole aftercourse of his life.
+
+For this reason, some First Words must precede the Story, and must
+present the brief narrative of what happened in the household of
+strangers. By what devious ways the event here related affected the
+chief personage of these pages, when he grew to manhood, it will be the
+business of the story to trace, over land and sea, among men and women,
+in bright days and dull days alike, until the end is reached, and the
+pen (God willing) is put back in the desk.
+
+II
+
+Old Benjamin Ronald (of the Stationers’ Company) took a young wife at
+the ripe age of fifty, and carried with him into the holy estate of
+matrimony some of the habits of his bachelor life.
+
+As a bachelor, he had never willingly left his shop (situated in that
+exclusively commercial region of London which is called “the City”) from
+one year’s end to another. As a married man, he persisted in following
+the same monotonous course; with this one difference, that he now had
+a woman to follow it with him. “Travelling by railway,” he explained to
+his wife, “will make your head ache--it makes _my_ head ache. Travelling
+by sea will make you sick--it makes _me_ sick. If you want change of
+air, every sort of air is to be found in the City. If you admire the
+beauties of Nature, there is Finsbury Square with the beauties of Nature
+carefully selected and arranged. When we are in London, you (and I) are
+all right; and when we are out of London, you (and I) are all wrong.”
+ As surely as the autumn holiday season set in, so surely Old Ronald
+resisted his wife’s petition for a change of scene in that form of
+words. A man habitually fortified behind his own inbred obstinacy and
+selfishness is for the most part an irresistible power within the limits
+of his domestic circle. As a rule, patient Mrs. Ronald yielded; and her
+husband stood revealed to his neighbours in the glorious character of a
+married man who had his own way.
+
+But in the autumn of 1856, the retribution which sooner or later
+descends on all despotisms, great and small, overtook the iron rule of
+Old Ronald, and defeated the domestic tyrant on the battle-field of his
+own fireside.
+
+The children born of the marriage, two in number, were both daughters.
+The elder had mortally offended her father by marrying imprudently--in
+a pecuniary sense. He had declared that she should never enter his house
+again; and he had mercilessly kept his word. The younger daughter
+(now eighteen years of age) proved to be also a source of parental
+inquietude, in another way. She was the passive cause of the revolt
+which set her father’s authority at defiance. For some little time past
+she had been out of health. After many ineffectual trials of the mild
+influence of persuasion, her mother’s patience at last gave way. Mrs.
+Ronald insisted--yes, actually insisted--on taking Miss Emma to the
+seaside.
+
+“What’s the matter with you?” Old Ronald asked; detecting something that
+perplexed him in his wife’s look and manner, on the memorable occasion
+when she asserted a will of her own for the first time in her life.
+
+A man of finer observation would have discovered the signs of no
+ordinary anxiety and alarm, struggling to show themselves openly in the
+poor woman’s face. Her husband only saw a change that puzzled him. “Send
+for Emma,” he said, his natural cunning inspiring him with the idea of
+confronting the mother and daughter, and of seeing what came of _that._
+Emma appeared, plump and short, with large blue eyes, and full pouting
+lips, and splendid yellow hair: otherwise, miserably pale, languid
+in her movements, careless in her dress, sullen in her manner. Out of
+health as her mother said, and as her father saw.
+
+“You can see for yourself,” said Mrs. Ronald, “that the girl is pining
+for fresh air. I have heard Ramsgate recommended.”
+
+Old Ronald looked at his daughter. She represented the one tender place
+in his nature. It was not a large place; but it did exist. And the proof
+of it is, that he began to yield--with the worst possible grace.
+
+“Well, we will see about it,” he said.
+
+“There is no time to be lost,” Mrs. Ronald persisted. “I mean to take
+her to Ramsgate tomorrow.”
+
+Mr. Ronald looked at his wife as a dog looks at the maddened sheep that
+turns on him. “You mean?” repeated the stationer. “Upon my soul--what
+next? You mean? Where is the money to come from? Answer me that.”
+
+Mrs. Ronald declined to be drawn into a conjugal dispute, in the
+presence of her daughter. She took Emma’s arm, and led her to the door.
+There she stopped, and spoke. “I have already told you that the girl is
+ill,” she said to her husband. “And I now tell you again that she must
+have the sea air. For God’s sake, don’t let us quarrel! I have enough to
+try me without that.” She closed the door on herself and her daughter,
+and left her lord and master standing face to face with the wreck of his
+own outraged authority.
+
+What further progress was made by the domestic revolt, when the bedroom
+candles were lit, and the hour of retirement had arrived with the night,
+is naturally involved in mystery. This alone is certain: On the next
+morning, the luggage was packed, and the cab was called to the door.
+Mrs. Ronald spoke her parting words to her husband in private.
+
+“I hope I have not expressed myself too strongly about taking Emma to
+the seaside,” she said, in gentle pleading tones. “I am anxious about
+our girl’s health. If I have offended you--without meaning it, God
+knows!--say you forgive me before I go. I have tried honestly, dear, to
+be a good wife to you. And you have always trusted me, haven’t you? And
+you trust me still?”
+
+She took his lean cold hand, and pressed it fervently: her eyes rested
+on him with a strange mixture of timidity and anxiety. Still in the
+prime of her life, she preserved the personal attractions--the fair calm
+refined face, the natural grace of look and movement--which had made
+her marriage to a man old enough to be her father a cause of angry
+astonishment among all her friends. In the agitation that now possessed
+her, her colour rose, her eyes brightened; she looked for the moment
+almost young enough to be Emma’s sister. Her husband opened his hard old
+eyes in surly bewilderment. “Why need you make this fuss?” he asked. “I
+don’t understand you.” Mrs. Ronald shrank at those words as if he had
+struck her. She kissed him in silence, and joined her daughter in the
+cab.
+
+For the rest of that day, the persons in the stationer’s employment had
+a hard time of it with their master in the shop. Something had upset Old
+Ronald. He ordered the shutters to be put up earlier that evening than
+usual. Instead of going to his club (at the tavern round the corner),
+he took a long walk in the lonely and lifeless streets of the City by
+night. There was no disguising it from himself; his wife’s behaviour at
+parting had made him uneasy. He naturally swore at her for taking that
+liberty, while he lay awake alone in his bed. “Damn the woman! What
+does she mean?” The cry of the soul utters itself in various forms of
+expression. That was the cry of Old Ronald’s soul, literally translated.
+
+III
+
+The next morning brought him a letter from Ramsgate.
+
+“I write immediately to tell you of our safe arrival. We have found
+comfortable lodgings (as the address at the head of this letter will
+inform you) in Albion Place. I thank you, and Emma desires to thank you
+also, for your kindness in providing us with ample means for taking our
+little trip. It is beautiful weather today; the sea is calm, and the
+pleasure-boats are out. We do not of course expect to see you here.
+But if you do, by any chance, overcome your objection to moving out
+of London, I have a little request to make. Please let me hear of your
+visit beforehand--so that I may not omit all needful preparations. I
+know you dislike being troubled with letters (except on business), so
+I will not write too frequently. Be so good as to take no news for good
+news, in the intervals. When you have a few minutes to spare, you will
+write, I hope, and tell me how you and the shop are going on. Emma sends
+you her love, in which I beg to join.” So the letter was expressed, and
+so it ended.
+
+“They needn’t be afraid of my troubling them. Calm seas and
+pleasure-boats! Stuff and nonsense!” Such was the first impression which
+his wife’s report of herself produced on Old Ronald’s mind. After
+a while, he looked at the letter again--and frowned, and reflected.
+“Please let me hear of your visit beforehand,” he repeated to himself,
+as if the request had been, in some incomprehensible way, offensive to
+him. He opened the drawer of his desk, and threw the letter into it.
+When business was over for the day, he went to his club at the tavern,
+and made himself unusually disagreeable to everybody.
+
+A week passed. In the interval he wrote briefly to his wife. “I’m all
+right, and the shop goes on as usual.” He also forwarded one or two
+letters which came for Mrs. Ronald. No more news reached him from
+Ramsgate. “I suppose they’re enjoying themselves,” he reflected. “The
+house looks queer without them; I’ll go to the club.”
+
+He stayed later than usual, and drank more than usual, that night. It
+was nearly one in the morning when he let himself in with his latch-key,
+and went upstairs to bed.
+
+Approaching the toilette-table, he found a letter lying on it, addressed
+to “Mr. Ronald--private.” It was not in his wife’s handwriting; not in
+any handwriting known to him. The characters sloped the wrong way, and
+the envelope bore no postmark. He eyed it over and over suspiciously. At
+last he opened it, and read these lines:
+
+“You are advised by a true friend to lose no time in looking after your
+wife. There are strange doings at the seaside. If you don’t believe me,
+ask Mrs. Turner, Number 1, Slains Row, Ramsgate.”
+
+No address, no date, no signature--an anonymous letter, the first he had
+ever received in the long course of his life.
+
+His hard brain was in no way affected by the liquor that he had drunk.
+He sat down on his bed, mechanically folding and refolding the letter.
+The reference to “Mrs. Turner” produced no impression on him of any
+sort: no person of that name, common as it was, happened to be numbered
+on the list of his friends or his customers. But for one circumstance,
+he would have thrown the letter aside, in contempt. His memory reverted
+to his wife’s incomprehensible behaviour at parting. Addressing him
+through that remembrance, the anonymous warning assumed a certain
+importance to his mind. He went down to his desk, in the back office,
+and took his wife’s letter out of the drawer, and read it through
+slowly. “Ha!” he said, pausing as he came across the sentence which
+requested him to write beforehand, in the unlikely event of his deciding
+to go to Ramsgate. He thought again of the strangely persistent way in
+which his wife had dwelt on his trusting her; he recalled her nervous
+anxious looks, her deepening colour, her agitation at one moment, and
+then her sudden silence and sudden retreat to the cab. Fed by these
+irritating influences, the inbred suspicion in his nature began to take
+fire slowly. She might be innocent enough in asking him to give her
+notice before he joined her at the seaside--she might naturally be
+anxious to omit no needful preparation for his comfort. Still, he didn’t
+like it; no, he didn’t like it. An appearance as of a slow collapse
+passed little by little over his rugged wrinkled face. He looked many
+years older than his age, as he sat at the desk, with the flaring
+candlelight close in front of him, thinking. The anonymous letter lay
+before him, side by side with his wife’s letter. On a sudden, he lifted
+his gray head, and clenched his fist, and struck the venomous written
+warning as if it had been a living thing that could feel. “Whoever you
+are,” he said, “I’ll take your advice.”
+
+He never even made the attempt to go to bed that night. His pipe helped
+him through the comfortless and dreary hours. Once or twice he thought
+of his daughter. Why had her mother been so anxious about her? Why had
+her mother taken her to Ramsgate? Perhaps, as a blind--ah, yes, perhaps
+as a blind! More for the sake of something to do than for any other
+reason, he packed a handbag with a few necessaries. As soon as the
+servant was stirring, he ordered her to make him a cup of strong coffee.
+After that, it was time to show himself as usual, on the opening of the
+shop. To his astonishment, he found his clerk taking down the shutters,
+in place of the porter.
+
+“What does this mean?” he asked. “Where is Farnaby?”
+
+The clerk looked at his master, and paused aghast with a shutter in his
+hands.
+
+“Good Lord! what has come to you?” he cried. “Are you ill?”
+
+Old Ronald angrily repeated his question: “Where is Farnaby?”
+
+“I don’t know,” was the answer.
+
+“You don’t know? Have you been up to his bedroom?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“Well, he isn’t in his bedroom. And, what’s more, his bed hasn’t been
+slept in last night. Farnaby’s off, sir--nobody knows where.”
+
+Old Ronald dropped heavily into the nearest chair. This second mystery,
+following on the mystery of the anonymous letter, staggered him. But
+his business instincts were still in good working order. He held out his
+keys to the clerk. “Get the petty cash-book,” he said, “and see if the
+money is all right.”
+
+The clerk received the keys under protest. _“That’s_ not the right
+reading of the riddle,” he remarked.
+
+“Do as I tell you!”
+
+The clerk opened the money-drawer under the counter; counted the pounds,
+shillings and pence paid by chance customers up to the closing of
+the shop on the previous evening; compared the result with the petty
+cash-book, and answered, “Right to a halfpenny.”
+
+Satisfied so far, old Ronald condescended to approach the speculative
+side of the subject, with the assistance of his subordinate. “If what
+you said just now means anything,” he resumed, “it means that you
+suspect the reason why Farnaby has left my service. Let’s hear it.”
+
+“You know that I never liked John Farnaby,” the clerk began. “An active
+young fellow and a clever young fellow, I grant you. But a bad servant
+for all that. False, Mr. Ronald--false to the marrow of his bones.”
+
+Mr. Ronald’s patience began to give way. “Come to the facts,” he
+growled. “Why has Farnaby gone off without a word to anybody? Do you
+know that?”
+
+“I know no more than you do,” the clerk answered coolly. “Don’t fly into
+a passion. I have got some facts for you, if you will only give me time.
+Turn them over in your own mind, and see what they come to. Three days
+ago I was short of postage-stamps, and I went to the office. Farnaby was
+there, waiting at the desk where they pay the post-office orders. There
+must have been ten or a dozen people with letters, orders, and what
+not, between him and me. I got behind him quietly, and looked over his
+shoulder. I saw the clerk give him the money for his post-office order.
+Five pounds in gold, which I reckoned as they lay on the counter, and
+a bank-note besides, which he crumpled up in his hand. I can’t tell you
+how much it was for; I only know it _was_ a bank-note. Just ask yourself
+how a porter on twenty shillings a week (with a mother who takes in
+washing, and a father who takes in drink) comes to have a correspondent
+who sends him an order for five sovereigns--and a bank-note, value
+unknown. Say he’s turned betting-man in secret. Very good. There’s the
+post-office order, in that case, to show that he’s got a run of luck. If
+he has got a run of luck, tell me this--why does he leave his place like
+a thief in the night? He’s not a slave; he’s not even an apprentice.
+When he thinks he can better himself, he has no earthly need to keep it
+a secret that he means to leave your service. He may have met with an
+accident, to be sure. But that’s not _my_ belief. I say he’s up to some
+mischief And now comes the question: What are we to do?”
+
+Mr. Ronald, listening with his head down, and without interposing a
+word on his own part, made an extraordinary answer. “Leave it,” he said.
+“Leave it till tomorrow.”
+
+“Why?” the clerk answered, without ceremony.
+
+Mr. Ronald made another extraordinary answer. “Because I am obliged to
+go out of town for the day. Look after the business. The ironmonger’s
+man over the way will help you to put up the shutters at night. If
+anybody inquires for me, say I shall be back tomorrow.” With those
+parting directions, heedless of the effect that he had produced on the
+clerk, he looked at his watch, and left the shop.
+
+
+IV
+
+The bell which gave five minutes’ notice of the starting of the Ramsgate
+train had just rung.
+
+While the other travellers were hastening to the platform, two persons
+stood passively apart as if they had not even yet decided on taking
+their places in the train. One of the two was a smart young man in a
+cheap travelling suit; mainly noticeable by his florid complexion, his
+restless dark eyes, and his profusely curling black hair. The other was
+a middle-aged woman in frowsy garments; tall and stout, sly and sullen.
+The smart young man stood behind the uncongenial-looking person with
+whom he had associated himself, using her as a screen to hide him while
+he watched the travellers on their way to the train. As the bell rang,
+the woman suddenly faced her companion, and pointed to the railway
+clock.
+
+“Are you waiting to make up your mind till the train has gone?” she
+asked.
+
+The young man frowned impatiently. “I am waiting for a person whom I
+expect to see,” he answered. “If the person travels by this train, we
+shall travel by it. If not, we shall come back here, and look out for
+the next train, and so on till night-time, if it’s necessary.”
+
+The woman fixed her small scowling gray eyes on the man as he replied
+in those terms. “Look here!” she broke out. “I like to see my way before
+me. You’re a stranger, young Mister; and it’s as likely as not you’ve
+given me a false name and address. That don’t matter. False names are
+commoner than true ones, in my line of life. But mind this! I don’t
+stir a step farther till I’ve got half the money in my hand, and my
+return-ticket there and back.”
+
+“Hold your tongue!” the man suddenly interposed in a whisper. “It’s all
+right. I’ll get the tickets.”
+
+He looked while he spoke at an elderly traveller, hastening by with
+his head down, deep in thought, noticing nobody. The traveller was
+Mr. Ronald. The young man, who had that moment recognized him, was his
+runaway porter, John Farnaby.
+
+Returning with the tickets, the porter took his repellent travelling
+companion by the arm, and hurried her along the platform to the train.
+“The money!” she whispered, as they took their places. Farnaby handed
+it to her, ready wrapped up in a morsel of paper. She opened the paper,
+satisfied herself that no trick had been played her, and leaned back in
+her corner to go to sleep. The train started. Old Ronald travelled by
+the second class; his porter and his porter’s companion accompanied him
+secretly by the third.
+
+V
+
+It was still early in the afternoon when Mr. Ronald descended the narrow
+street which leads from the high land of the South-Eastern railway
+station to the port of Ramsgate. Asking his way of the first policeman
+whom he met, he turned to the left, and reached the cliff on which the
+houses in Albion Place are situated. Farnaby followed him at a discreet
+distance; and the woman followed Farnaby.
+
+Arrived in sight of the lodging-house, Mr. Ronald paused--partly to
+recover his breath, partly to compose himself. He was conscious of a
+change of feeling as he looked up at the windows: his errand suddenly
+assumed a contemptible aspect in his own eyes. He almost felt ashamed of
+himself. After twenty years of undisturbed married life, was it possible
+that he had doubted his wife--and that at the instigation of a stranger
+whose name even was unknown to him? “If she was to step out in the
+balcony, and see me down here,” he thought, “what a fool I should look!”
+ He felt half-inclined, at the moment when he lifted the knocker of the
+door, to put it back again quietly, and return to London. No! it was too
+late. The maid-servant was hanging up her birdcage in the area of the
+house; the maid-servant had seen him.
+
+“Does Mrs. Ronald lodge here?” he asked.
+
+The girl lifted her eyebrows and opened her mouth--stared at him in
+speechless confusion--and disappeared in the kitchen regions. This
+strange reception of his inquiry irritated him unreasonably. He knocked
+with the absurd violence of a man who vents his anger on the first
+convenient thing that he can find. The landlady opened the door, and
+looked at him in stern and silent surprise.
+
+“Does Mrs. Ronald lodge here?” he repeated.
+
+The landlady answered with some appearance of effort--the effort of a
+person who was carefully considering her words before she permitted them
+to pass her lips.
+
+“Mrs. Ronald has taken rooms here. But she has not occupied them yet.”
+
+“Not occupied them yet?” The words bewildered him as if they had been
+spoken in an unknown tongue. He stood stupidly silent on the doorstep.
+His anger was gone; an all-mastering fear throbbed heavily at his heart.
+The landlady looked at him, and said to her secret self: “Just what I
+suspected; there _is_ something wrong!”
+
+“Perhaps I have not sufficiently explained myself, sir,” she resumed
+with grave politeness. “Mrs. Ronald told me that she was staying at
+Ramsgate with friends. She would move into my house, she said, when her
+friends left--but they had not quite settled the day yet. She calls here
+for letters. Indeed, she was here early this morning, to pay the second
+week’s rent. I asked when she thought of moving in. She didn’t seem to
+know; her friends (as I understood) had not made up their minds. I must
+say I thought it a little odd. Would you like to leave any message?”
+
+He recovered himself sufficiently to speak. “Can you tell me where her
+friends live?” he said.
+
+The landlady shook her head. “No, indeed. I offered to save Mrs. Ronald
+the trouble of calling here, by sending letters or cards to her present
+residence. She declined the offer--and she has never mentioned the
+address. Would you like to come in and rest, sir? I will see that your
+card is taken care of, if you wish to leave it.”
+
+“Thank you, ma’am--it doesn’t matter--good morning.”
+
+The landlady looked after him as he descended the house-steps. “It’s the
+husband, Peggy,” she said to the servant, waiting inquisitively behind
+her. “Poor old gentleman! And such a respectable-looking woman, too!”
+
+Mr. Ronald walked mechanically to the end of the row of houses, and met
+the wide grand view of sea and sky. There were some seats behind the
+railing which fenced the edge of the cliff. He sat down, perfectly
+stupefied and helpless, on the nearest bench.
+
+At the close of life, the loss of a man’s customary nourishment extends
+its debilitating influence rapidly from his body to his mind. Mr. Ronald
+had tasted nothing but his cup of coffee since the previous night.
+His mind began to wander strangely; he was not angry or frightened
+or distressed. Instead of thinking of what had just happened, he was
+thinking of his young days when he had been a cricket-player. One
+special game revived in his memory, at which he had been struck on the
+head by the ball. “Just the same feeling,” he reflected vacantly, with
+his hat off, and his hand on his forehead. “Dazed and giddy--just the
+same feeling!”
+
+He leaned back on the bench, and fixed his eyes on the sea, and wondered
+languidly what had come to him. Farnaby and the woman, still following,
+waited round the corner where they could just keep him in view.
+
+The blue lustre of the sky was without a cloud; the sunny sea leapt
+under the fresh westerly breeze. From the beach, the cries of children
+at play, the shouts of donkey-boys driving their poor beasts, the
+distant notes of brass instruments playing a waltz, and the mellow music
+of the small waves breaking on the sand, rose joyously together on the
+fragrant air. On the next bench, a dirty old boatman was prosing to a
+stupid old visitor. Mr. Ronald listened, with a sense of vacant content
+in the mere act of listening. The boatman’s words found their way to his
+ears like the other sounds that were abroad in the air. “Yes; them’s
+the Goodwin Sands, where you see the lightship. And that steamer there,
+towing a vessel into the harbour, that’s the Ramsgate Tug. Do you know
+what I should like to see? I should like to see the Ramsgate Tug blow
+up. Why? I’ll tell you why. I belong to Broadstairs; I don’t belong to
+Ramsgate. Very well. I’m idling here, as you may see, without one copper
+piece in my pocket to rub against another. What trade do I belong to?
+I don’t belong to no trade; I belong to a boat. The boat’s rotting at
+Broadstairs, for want of work. And all along of what? All along of the
+Tug. The Tug has took the bread out of our mouths: me and my mates. Wait
+a bit; I’ll show you how. What did a ship do, in the good old times,
+when she got on them sands--Goodwin Sands? Went to pieces, if it come on
+to blow; or got sucked down little by little when it was fair weather.
+Now I’m coming to it. What did We do (in the good old times, mind you)
+when we happened to see that ship in distress? Out with our boat; blow
+high or blow low, out with our boat. And saved the lives of the crew,
+did you say? Well, yes; saving the crew was part of the day’s work, to
+be sure; the part we didn’t get paid for. We saved _the cargo,_ Master!
+and got salvage!! Hundreds of pounds, I tell you, divided amongst us by
+law!!! Ah, those times are gone. A parcel of sneaks get together, and
+subscribe to build a Steam-Tug. When a ship gets on the sands now, out
+goes the Tug, night and day alike, and brings her safe into harbour,
+and takes the bread out of our mouths. Shameful--that’s what I call
+it--shameful.”
+
+The last words of the boatman’s lament fell lower, lower, lower on Mr.
+Ronald’s ears--he lost them altogether--he lost the view of the sea--he
+lost the sense of the wind blowing over him. Suddenly, he was roused as
+if from a deep sleep. On one side, the man from Broadstairs was shaking
+him by the collar. “I say, Master, cheer up; what’s come to you?” On the
+other side, a compassionate lady was offering her smelling-bottle. “I am
+afraid, sir, you have fainted.” He struggled to his feet, and vacantly
+thanked the lady. The man from Broadstairs--with an eye to salvage--took
+charge of the human wreck, and towed him to the nearest public-house. “A
+chop and a glass of brandy-and-water,” said this good Samaritan of the
+nineteenth century. “That’s what you want. I’m peckish myself, and I’ll
+keep you company.”
+
+He was perfectly passive in the hands of any one who would take charge
+of him; he submitted as if he had been the boatman’s dog, and had heard
+the whistle.
+
+It could only be truly said that he had come to himself, when there had
+been time enough for him to feel the reanimating influence of the food
+and drink. Then he got to his feet, and looked with incredulous wonder
+at the companion of his meal. The man from Broadstairs opened his greasy
+lips, and was silenced by the sudden appearance of a gold coin between
+Mr. Ronald’s finger and thumb. “Don’t speak to me; pay the bill, and
+bring me the change outside.” When the boatman joined him, he was
+reading a letter; walking to and fro, and speaking at intervals to
+himself. “God help me, have I lost my senses? I don’t know what to do
+next.” He referred to the letter again: “if you don’t believe me, ask
+Mrs. Turner, Number 1, Slains Row, Ramsgate.” He put the letter back in
+his pocket, and rallied suddenly. “Slains Row,” he said, turning to the
+boatman. “Take me there directly, and keep the change for yourself.”
+
+The boatman’s gratitude was (apparently) beyond expression in words. He
+slapped his pocket cheerfully, and that was all. Leading the way inland,
+he went downhill, and uphill again--then turned aside towards the
+eastern extremity of the town.
+
+Farnaby, still following, with the woman behind him, stopped when the
+boatman diverged towards the east, and looked up at the name of the
+street. “I’ve got my instructions,” he said; “I know where he’s going.
+Step out! We’ll get there before him, by another way.”
+
+Mr. Ronald and his guide reached a row of poor little houses, with poor
+little gardens in front of them and behind them. The back windows looked
+out on downs and fields lying on either side of the road to Broadstairs.
+It was a lost and lonely spot. The guide stopped, and put a question
+with inquisitive respect. “What number, sir?” Mr. Ronald had
+sufficiently recovered himself to keep his own counsel. “That will do,”
+ he said. “You can leave me.” The boatman waited a moment. Mr. Ronald
+looked at him. The boatman was slow to understand that his leadership
+had gone from him. “You’re sure you don’t want me any more?” he
+said. “Quite sure,” Mr. Ronald answered. The man from Broadstairs
+retired--with his salvage to comfort him.
+
+Number 1 was at the farther extremity of the row of houses. When Mr.
+Ronald rang the bell, the spies were already posted. The woman loitered
+on the road, within view of the door. Farnaby was out of sight, round
+the corner, watching the house over the low wooden palings of the back
+garden.
+
+A lazy-looking man, in his shirt sleeves, opened the door. “Mrs. Turner
+at home?” he repeated. “Well, she’s at home; but she’s too busy to see
+anybody. What’s your pleasure?” Mr. Ronald declined to accept excuses
+or to answer questions. “I must see Mrs. Turner directly,” he said, “on
+important business.” His tone and manner had their effect on the lazy
+man. “What name?” he asked. Mr. Ronald declined to mention his name.
+“Give my message,” he said. “I won’t detain Mrs. Turner more than a
+minute.” The man hesitated--and opened the door of the front parlour. An
+old woman was fast asleep on a ragged little sofa. The man gave up the
+front parlour, and tried the back parlour next. It was empty. “Please to
+wait here,” he said--and went away to deliver his message.
+
+The parlour was a miserably furnished room. Through the open window, the
+patch of back garden was barely visible under fluttering rows of linen
+hanging out on lines to dry. A pack of dirty cards, and some plain
+needlework, littered the bare little table. A cheap American clock
+ticked with stern and steady activity on the mantelpiece. The smell of
+onions was in the air. A torn newspaper, with stains of beer on it,
+lay on the floor. There was some sinister influence in the place which
+affected Mr. Ronald painfully. He felt himself trembling, and sat down
+on one of the rickety chairs. The minutes followed one another wearily.
+He heard a trampling of feet in the room above--then a door opened and
+closed--then the rustle of a woman’s dress on the stairs. In a
+moment more, the handle of the parlour door was turned. He rose, in
+anticipation of Mrs. Turner’s appearance. The door opened. He found
+himself face to face with his wife.
+
+VI
+
+John Farnaby, posted at the garden paling, suddenly lifted his head and
+looked towards the open window of the back parlour. He reflected for a
+moment--and then joined his female companion on the road in front of the
+house.
+
+“I want you at the back garden,” he said. “Come along!”
+
+“How much longer am I to be kept kicking my heels in this wretched
+hole?” the woman asked sulkily.
+
+“As much longer as I please--if you want to go back to London with the
+other half of the money.” He showed it to her as he spoke. She followed
+him without another word.
+
+Arrived at the paling, Farnaby pointed to the window, and to the back
+garden door, which was left ajar. “Speak softly,” he whispered. “Do you
+hear voices in the house?”
+
+“I don’t hear what they’re talking about, if that’s what you mean.”
+
+“I don’t hear, either. Now mind what I tell you--I have reasons of
+my own for getting a little nearer to that window. Sit down under the
+paling, so that you can’t be seen from the house. If you hear a row, you
+may take it for granted that I am found out. In that case, go back to
+London by the next train, and meet me at the terminus at two o’clock
+tomorrow afternoon. If nothing happens, wait where you are till you hear
+from me or see me again.”
+
+He laid his hand on the low paling, and vaulted over it. The linen
+hanging up in the garden to dry offered him a means of concealment
+(if any one happened to look out of the window) of which he skilfully
+availed himself. The dust-bin was at the side of the house, situated
+at a right angle to the parlour window. He was safe behind the bin,
+provided no one appeared on the path which connected the patch of garden
+at the back with the patch in front. Here, running the risk, he waited
+and listened.
+
+The first voice that reached his ears was the voice of Mrs. Ronald. She
+was speaking with a firmness of tone that astonished him.
+
+“Hear me to the end, Benjamin,” she said. “I have a right to ask as much
+as that of my husband, and I do ask it. If I had been bent on nothing
+but saving the reputation of our miserable girl, you would have a right
+to blame me for keeping you ignorant of the calamity that has fallen on
+us--”
+
+There the voice of her husband interposed sternly. “Calamity! Say
+disgrace, everlasting disgrace.”
+
+Mrs. Ronald did not notice the interruption. Sadly and patiently she
+went on.
+
+“But I had a harder trial still to face,” she said. “I had to save her,
+in spite of herself, from the wretch who has brought this infamy on us.
+He has acted throughout in cold blood; it is his interest to marry her,
+and from first to last he has plotted to force the marriage on us. For
+God’s sake, don’t speak loud! She is in the room above us; if she hears
+you it will be the death of her. Don’t suppose I am talking at random;
+I have looked at his letters to her; I have got the confession of the
+servant-girl. Such a confession! Emma is his victim, body and soul. I
+know it! I know that she sent him money (_my_ money) from this place. I
+know that the servant (at _her_ instigation) informed him by telegraph
+of the birth of the child. Oh, Benjamin, don’t curse the poor helpless
+infant--such a sweet little girl! don’t think of it! I don’t think of
+it! Show me the letter that brought you here; I want to see the letter.
+Ah, I can tell you who wrote it! _He_ wrote it. In his own interests;
+always with his own interests in view. Don’t you see it for yourself? If
+I succeed in keeping this shame and misery a secret from everybody--if
+I take Emma away, to some place abroad, on pretence of her health--there
+is an end of his hope of becoming your son-in-law; there is an end of
+his being taken into the business. Yes! he, the low-lived vagabond
+who puts up the shop-shutters, _he_ looks forward to being taken into
+partnership, and succeeding you when you die! Isn’t his object in
+writing that letter as plain to you now as the heaven above us? His one
+chance is to set your temper in a flame, to provoke the scandal of a
+discovery--and to force the marriage on us as the only remedy left. Am
+I wrong in making any sacrifice, rather than bind our girl for life, our
+own flesh and blood, to such a man as that? Surely you can feel for me,
+and forgive me, now. How could I own the truth to you, before I left
+London, knowing you as I do? How could I expect you to be patient, to go
+into hiding, to pass under a false name--to do all the degrading things
+that must be done, if we are to keep Emma out of this man’s way? No! I
+know no more than you do where Farnaby is to be found. Hush! there is
+the door-bell. It’s the doctor’s time for his visit. I tell you again I
+don’t know--on my sacred word of honour, I don’t know where Farnaby is.
+Oh, be quiet! be quiet! there’s the doctor going upstairs! don’t let the
+doctor hear you!”
+
+So far, she had succeeded in composing her husband. But the fury which
+she had innocently roused in him, in her eagerness to justify herself,
+now broke beyond all control. “You lie!” he cried furiously. “If you
+know everything else about it, you know where Farnaby is. I’ll be the
+death of him, if I swing for it on the gallows! Where is he? Where is
+he?”
+
+A shriek from the upper room silenced him before Mrs. Ronald could
+speak again. His daughter had heard him; his daughter had recognized his
+voice.
+
+A cry of terror from her mother echoed the cry from above; the sound of
+the opening and closing of the door followed instantly. Then there was
+a momentary silence. Then Mrs. Ronald’s voice was heard from the upper
+room calling to the nurse, asleep in the front parlour. The nurse’s
+gruff tones were just audible, answering from the parlour door. There
+was another interval of silence; broken by another voice--a stranger’s
+voice--speaking at the open window, close by.
+
+“Follow me upstairs, sir, directly,” the voice said in peremptory tones.
+“As your daughter’s medical attendant, I tell you in the plainest terms
+that you have seriously frightened her. In her critical condition, I
+decline to answer for her life, unless you make the attempt at least to
+undo the mischief you have done. Whether you mean it or not, soothe her
+with kind words; say you have forgiven her. No! I have nothing to do
+with your domestic troubles; I have only my patient to think of. I don’t
+care what she asks of you, you must give way to her now. If she falls
+into convulsions, she will die--and her death will be at your door.”
+
+So, with feebler and feebler interruptions from Mr. Ronald, the doctor
+spoke. It ended plainly in his being obeyed. The departing footsteps of
+the men were the next sounds to be heard. After that, there was a pause
+of silence--a long pause, broken by Mrs. Ronald, calling again from the
+upper regions. “Take the child into the back parlour, nurse, and wait
+till I come to you. It’s cooler there, at this time of the day.”
+
+The wailing of an infant, and the gruff complaining of the nurse, were
+the next sounds that reached Farnaby in his hiding place. The nurse was
+grumbling to herself over the grievance of having been awakened from her
+sleep. “After being up all night, a person wants rest. There’s no rest
+for anybody in this house. My head’s as heavy as lead, and every bone in
+me has got an ache in it.”
+
+Before long, the renewed silence indicated that she had succeeded in
+hushing the child to sleep. Farnaby forgot the restraints of caution for
+the first time. His face flushed with excitement; he ventured nearer to
+the window, in his eagerness to find out what might happen next. After
+no long interval, the next sound came--a sound of heavy breathing, which
+told him that the drowsy nurse was falling asleep again. The window-sill
+was within reach of his hands. He waited until the heavy breathing
+deepened to snoring. Then he drew himself up by the window-sill, and
+looked into the room.
+
+The nurse was fast asleep in an armchair; and the child was fast asleep
+on her lap.
+
+He dropped softly to the ground again. Taking off his shoes, and putting
+them in his pockets, he ascended the two or three steps which led to the
+half-open back garden door. Arrived in the passage, he could just
+hear them talking upstairs. They were no doubt still absorbed in their
+troubles; he had only the servant to dread. The splashing of water in
+the kitchen informed him that she was safely occupied in washing. Slowly
+and softly he opened the back parlour door, and stole across the room to
+the nurse’s chair.
+
+One of her hands still rested on the child. The serious risk was the
+risk of waking her, if he lost his presence of mind and hurried it!
+
+He glanced at the American clock on the mantelpiece. The result relieved
+him; it was not so late as he had feared. He knelt down, to steady
+himself, as nearly as possible on a level with the nurse’s knees. By a
+hair’s breadth at a time, he got both hands under the child. By a hair’s
+breadth at a time, he drew the child away from her; leaving her hand
+resting on her lap by degrees so gradual that the lightest sleeper could
+not have felt the change. That done (barring accidents), all was done.
+Keeping the child resting easily on his left arm, he had his right
+hand free to shut the door again. Arrived at the garden steps, a slight
+change passed over the sleeping infant’s face--the delicate little
+creature shivered as it felt the full flow of the open air. He softly
+laid over its face a corner of the woollen shawl in which it was
+wrapped. The child reposed as quietly on his arm as if it had still been
+on the nurse’s lap.
+
+In a minute more he was at the paling. The woman rose to receive him,
+with the first smile that had crossed her face since they had left
+London.
+
+“So you’ve got the baby,” she said, “Well, you _are_ a deep one!”
+
+“Take it,” he answered irritably. “We haven’t a moment to lose.”
+
+Only stopping to put on his shoes, he led the way towards the more
+central part of the town. The first person he met directed him to the
+railway station. It was close by. In five minutes more the woman and the
+baby were safe in the train to London.
+
+“There’s the other half of the money,” he said, handing it to her
+through the carriage window.
+
+The woman eyed the child in her arms with a frowning expression of
+doubt. “All very well as long as it lasts,” she said. “And what after
+that?”
+
+“Of course, I shall call and see you,” he answered.
+
+She looked hard at him, and expressed the whole value she set on that
+assurance in four words. “Of course you will!”
+
+The train started for London. Farnaby watched it, as it left the
+platform, with a look of unfeigned relief. “There!” he thought to
+himself. “Emma’s reputation is safe enough now! When we are married, we
+mustn’t have a love-child in the way of our prospects in life.”
+
+Leaving the station, he stopped at the refreshment room, and drank a
+glass of brandy-and-water. “Something to screw me up,” he thought, “for
+what is to come.” What was to come (after he had got rid of the child)
+had been carefully considered by him, on the journey to Ramsgate.
+“Emma’s husband-that-is-to-be”--he had reasoned it out--“will naturally
+be the first person Emma wants to see, when the loss of the baby has
+upset the house. If Old Ronald has a grain of affection left in him, he
+must let her marry me after _that!”_
+
+Acting on this view of his position, he took the way that led back
+to Slains Row, and rang the door-bell as became a visitor who had no
+reasons for concealment now.
+
+The household was doubtless already disorganized by the discovery of
+the child’s disappearance. Neither master nor servant was active in
+answering the bell. Farnaby submitted to be kept waiting with perfect
+composure. There are occasions on which a handsome man is bound to put
+his personal advantages to their best use. He took out his pocket-comb,
+and touched up the arrangement of his whiskers with a skilled and gentle
+hand. Approaching footsteps made themselves heard along the passage at
+last. Farnaby put back his comb, and buttoned his coat briskly. “Now for
+it!” he said, as the door was opened at last.
+
+
+
+
+THE STORY
+
+
+
+
+BOOK THE FIRST. AMELIUS AMONG THE SOCIALISTS
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 1
+
+Sixteen years after the date of Mr. Ronald’s disastrous discovery at
+Ramsgate--that is to say, in the year 1872--the steamship _Aquila_ left
+the port of New York, bound for Liverpool.
+
+It was the month of September. The passenger-list of the _Aquila_ had
+comparatively few names inscribed on it. In the autumn season, the
+voyage from America to England, but for the remunerative value of
+the cargo, would prove to be for the most part a profitless voyage to
+shipowners. The flow of passengers, at that time of year, sets steadily
+the other way. Americans are returning from Europe to their own country.
+Tourists have delayed the voyage until the fierce August heat of the
+United States has subsided, and the delicious Indian summer is ready
+to welcome them. At bed and board the passengers by the _Aquila_ on
+her homeward voyage had plenty of room, and the choicest morsels for
+everybody alike on the well spread dinner-table.
+
+The wind was favourable, the weather was lovely. Cheerfulness and
+good-humour pervaded the ship from stem to stern. The courteous captain
+did the honours of the cabin-table with the air of a gentleman who was
+receiving friends in his own house. The handsome doctor promenaded the
+deck arm-in-arm with ladies in course of rapid recovery from the first
+gastric consequences of travelling by sea. The excellent chief engineer,
+musical in his leisure moments to his fingers’ ends, played the fiddle
+in his cabin, accompanied on the flute by that young Apollo of the
+Atlantic trade, the steward’s mate. Only on the third morning of the
+voyage was the harmony on board the _Aquila_ disturbed by a passing
+moment of discord--due to an unexpected addition to the ranks of the
+passengers, in the shape of a lost bird!
+
+It was merely a weary little land-bird (blown out of its course, as the
+learned in such matters supposed); and it perched on one of the yards to
+rest and recover itself after its long flight.
+
+The instant the creature was discovered, the insatiable Anglo-Saxon
+delight in killing birds, from the majestic eagle to the contemptible
+sparrow, displayed itself in its full frenzy. The crew ran about the
+decks, the passengers rushed into their cabins, eager to seize the first
+gun and to have the first shot. An old quarter-master of the _Aquila_
+was the enviable man, who first found the means of destruction ready to
+his hand. He lifted the gun to his shoulder, he had his finger on the
+trigger, when he was suddenly pounced upon by one of the passengers--a
+young, slim, sunburnt, active man--who snatched away the gun,
+discharged it over the side of the vessel, and turned furiously on the
+quarter-master. “You wretch! would you kill the poor weary bird that
+trusts our hospitality, and only asks us to give it a rest? That little
+harmless thing is as much one of God’s creatures as you are. I’m ashamed
+of you--I’m horrified at you--you’ve got bird-murder in your face; I
+hate the sight of you!”
+
+The quarter-master--a large grave fat man, slow alike in his bodily and
+his mental movements--listened to this extraordinary remonstrance with
+a fixed stare of amazement, and an open mouth from which the unspat
+tobacco-juice tricked in little brown streams. When the impetuous young
+gentleman paused (not for want of words, merely for want of breath),
+the quarter-master turned about, and addressed himself to the audience
+gathered round. “Gentlemen,” he said, with a Roman brevity, “this young
+fellow is mad.”
+
+The captain’s voice checked the general outbreak of laughter. “That will
+do, quarter-master. Let it be understood that nobody is to shoot the
+bird--and let me suggest to _you,_ sir, that you might have expressed
+your sentiments quite as effectually in less violent language.”
+
+Addressed in those terms, the impetuous young man burst into another fit
+of excitement. “You’re quite right, sir! I deserve every word you
+have said to me; I feel I have disgraced myself.” He ran after the
+quartermaster, and seized him by both hands. “I beg your pardon; I beg
+your pardon with all my heart. You would have served me right if you
+had thrown me overboard after the language I used to you. Pray excuse
+my quick temper; pray forgive me. What do you say? ‘Let bygones _be_
+bygones’? That’s a capital way of putting it. You’re a thorough good
+fellow. If I can ever be of the smallest use to you (there’s my card and
+address in London), let me know it; I entreat you let me know it.” He
+returned in a violent hurry to the captain. “I’ve made it up with the
+quarter-master, sir. He forgives me; he bears no malice. Allow me to
+congratulate you on having such a good Christian in your ship. I wish
+I was like him! Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, for the disturbance I
+have made. It shan’t happen again--I promise you that.”
+
+The male travellers in general looked at each other, and seemed to agree
+with the quarter-master’s opinion of their fellow-passenger. The women,
+touched by his evident sincerity, and charmed with his handsome blushing
+eager face, agreed that he was quite right to save the poor bird,
+and that it would be all the better for the weaker part of creation
+generally if other men were more like him. While the various opinions
+were still in course of expression, the sound of the luncheon bell
+cleared the deck of the passengers, with two exceptions. One was the
+impetuous young man. The other was a middle-aged traveller, with a
+grizzled beard and a penetrating eye, who had silently observed the
+proceedings, and who now took the opportunity of introducing himself to
+the hero of the moment.
+
+“Are you not going to take any luncheon?” he asked.
+
+“No, sir. Among the people I have lived with we don’t eat at intervals
+of three or four hours, all day long.”
+
+“Will you excuse me,” pursued the other, “if I own I should like to
+know _what_ people you have been living with? My name is Hethcote; I
+was associated, at one time of my life, with a college devoted to the
+training of young men. From what I have seen and heard this morning, I
+fancy you have not been educated on any of the recognized systems that
+are popular at the present day. Am I right?”
+
+The excitable young man suddenly became the picture of resignation, and
+answered in a formula of words as if he was repeating a lesson.
+
+“I am Claude-Amelius-Goldenheart. Aged twenty-one. Son, and only child,
+of the late Claude Goldenheart, of Shedfield Heath, Buckinghamshire,
+England. I have been brought up by the Primitive Christian Socialists,
+at Tadmor Community, State of Illinois. I have inherited an income of
+five hundred a year. And I am now, with the approval of the Community,
+going to London to see life.”
+
+Mr. Hethcote received this copious flow of information, in some doubt
+whether he had been made the victim of coarse raillery, or whether he
+had merely heard a quaint statement of facts.
+
+Claude-Amelius-Goldenheart saw that he had produced an unfavourable
+impression, and hastened to set himself right.
+
+“Excuse me, sir,” he said, “I am not making game of you, as you seem to
+suppose. We are taught to be courteous to everybody, in our Community.
+The truth is, there seems to be something odd about me (I’m sure I don’t
+know what), which makes people whom I meet on my travels curious to know
+who I am. If you’ll please to remember, it’s a long way from Illinois to
+New York, and curious strangers are not scarce on the journey. When one
+is obliged to keep on saying the same thing over and over again, a
+form saves a deal of trouble. I have made a form for myself--which is
+respectfully at the disposal of any person who does me the honour to
+wish for my acquaintance. Will that do, sir? Very well, then; shake
+hands, to show you’re satisfied.”
+
+Mr. Hethcote shook hands, more than satisfied. He found it impossible to
+resist the bright honest brown eyes, the simple winning cordial manner
+of the young fellow with the quaint formula and the strange name. “Come,
+Mr. Goldenheart,” he said, leading the way to a seat on deck, “let us
+sit down comfortably, and have a talk.”
+
+“Anything you like, sir--but don’t call me Mr. Goldenheart.”
+
+“Why not?”
+
+“Well, it sounds formal. And, besides, you’re old enough to be my
+father; it’s _my_ duty to call _you_ Mister--or Sir, as we say to
+our elders at Tadmor. I have left all my friends behind me at the
+Community--and I feel lonely out here on this big ocean, among
+strangers. Do me a kindness, sir. Call me by my Christian name; and give
+me a friendly slap on the back if you find we get along smoothly in the
+course of the day.”
+
+“Which of your names shall it be?” Mr. Hethcote asked, humouring this
+odd lad. “Claude?”
+
+“No. Not Claude. The Primitive Christians said Claude was a finicking
+French name. Call me Amelius, and I shall begin to feel at home again.
+If you’re in a hurry, cut it down to three letters (as they did at
+Tadmor), and call me Mel.”
+
+“Very good,” said Mr. Hethcote. “Now, my friend Amelius (or Mel), I
+am going to speak out plainly, as you do. The Primitive Christian
+Socialists must have great confidence in their system of education, to
+turn you adrift in the world without a companion to look after you.”
+
+“You’ve hit it, sir,” Amelius answered coolly. “They have unlimited
+confidence in their system of education. And I’m a proof of it.”
+
+“You have relations in London, I suppose?” Mr. Hethcote proceeded.
+
+For the first time the face of Amelius showed a shadow of sadness on it.
+
+“I have relations,” he said. “But I have promised never to claim their
+hospitality. ‘They are hard and worldly; and they will make you hard
+and worldly, too.’ That’s what my father said to me on his deathbed.”
+ He took off his hat when he mentioned his father’s death, and came to a
+sudden pause--with his head bent down, like a man absorbed in thought.
+In less than a minute he put on his hat again, and looked up with his
+bright winning smile. “We say a little prayer for the loved ones who
+are gone, when we speak of them,” he explained. “But we don’t say it out
+loud, for fear of seeming to parade our religious convictions. We hate
+cant in our Community.”
+
+“I cordially agree with the Community, Amelius. But, my good fellow,
+have you really no friend to welcome you when you get to London?”
+
+Amelius answered the question mysteriously. “Wait a little!” he
+said--and took a letter from the breast-pocket of his coat. Mr.
+Hethcote, watching him, observed that he looked at the address with
+unfeigned pride and pleasure.
+
+“One of our brethren at the Community has given me this,” he announced.
+“It’s a letter of introduction, sir, to a remarkable man--a man who is
+an example to all the rest of us. He has risen, by dint of integrity and
+perseverance, from the position of a poor porter in a shop to be one of
+the most respected mercantile characters in the City of London.”
+
+With this explanation, Amelius handed his letter to Mr. Hethcote. It was
+addressed as follows:--
+
+         To John Farnaby, Esquire,
+         Messrs. Ronald & Farnaby,
+         Stationers,
+         Aldersgate Street, London.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 2
+
+Mr. Hethcote looked at the address on the letter with an expression of
+surprise, which did not escape the notice of Amelius. “Do you know Mr.
+Farnaby?” he asked.
+
+“I have some acquaintance with him,” was the answer, given with a
+certain appearance of constraint.
+
+Amelius went on eagerly with his questions. “What sort of man is he? Do
+you think he will be prejudiced against me, because I have been brought
+up in Tadmor?”
+
+“I must be a little better acquainted, Amelius, with you and Tadmor
+before I can answer your question. Suppose you tell me how you became
+one of the Socialists, to begin with?”
+
+“I was only a little boy, Mr. Hethcote, at that time.”
+
+“Very good. Even little boys have memories. Is there any objection to
+your telling me what you can remember?”
+
+Amelius answered rather sadly, with his eyes bent on the deck. “I
+remember something happening which threw a gloom over us at home in
+England. I heard that my mother was concerned in it. When I grew older,
+I never presumed to ask my father what it was; and he never offered to
+tell me. I only know this: that he forgave her some wrong she had done
+him, and let her go on living at home--and that relations and friends
+all blamed him, and fell away from him, from that time. Not long
+afterwards, while I was at school, my mother died. I was sent for, to
+follow her funeral with my father. When we got back, and were alone
+together, he took me on his knee and kissed me. ‘Which will you do,
+Amelius,’ he said; ‘stay in England with your uncle and aunt? or come
+with me all the way to America, and never go back to England again? Take
+time to think of it.’ I wanted no time to think of it; I said, ‘Go with
+you, papa.’ He frightened me by bursting out crying; it was the first
+time I had ever seen him in tears. I can understand it now. He had been
+cut to the heart, and had borne it like a martyr; and his boy was his
+one friend left. Well, by the end of the week we were on board the ship;
+and there we met a benevolent gentleman, with a long gray beard, who
+bade my father welcome, and presented me with a cake. In my ignorance,
+I thought he was the captain. Nothing of the sort. He was the first
+Socialist I had ever seen; and it was he who had persuaded my father to
+leave England.”
+
+Mr. Hethcote’s opinions of Socialists began to show themselves (a little
+sourly) in Mr. Hethcote’s smile. “And how did you get on with this
+benevolent gentleman?” he asked. “After converting your father, did he
+convert you--with the cake?”
+
+Amelius smiled. “Do him justice, sir; he didn’t trust to the cake. He
+waited till we were in sight of the American land--and then he preached
+me a little sermon, on our arrival, entirely for my own use.”
+
+“A sermon?” Mr. Hethcote repeated. “Very little religion in it, I
+suspect.”
+
+“Very little indeed, sir,” Amelius answered. “Only as much religion as
+there is in the New Testament. I was not quite old enough to understand
+him easily--so he wrote down his discourse on the fly-leaf of a
+story-book I had with me, and gave it to me to read when I was tired of
+the stories. Stories were scarce with me in those days; and, when I
+had exhausted my little stock, rather than read nothing I read my
+sermon--read it so often that I think I can remember every word of it
+now. ‘My dear little boy, the Christian religion, as Christ taught it,
+has long ceased to be the religion of the Christian world. A selfish and
+cruel Pretence is set up in its place. Your own father is one example
+of the truth of this saying of mine. He has fulfilled the first and
+foremost duty of a true Christian--the duty of forgiving an injury. For
+this, he stands disgraced in the estimation of all his friends: they
+have renounced and abandoned him. He forgives them, and seeks peace and
+good company in the New World, among Christians like himself. You will
+not repent leaving home with him; you will be one of a loving family,
+and, when you are old enough, you will be free to decide for yourself
+what your future life shall be.’ That was all I knew about the
+Socialists, when we reached Tadmor after our long journey.”
+
+Mr. Hethcote’s prejudices made their appearance again. “A barren sort of
+place,” he said, “judging by the name.”
+
+“Barren? What can you be thinking of? A prettier place I never saw, and
+never expect to see again. A clear winding river, running into a little
+blue lake. A broad hill-side, all laid out in flower-gardens, and
+shaded by splendid trees. On the top of the hill, the buildings of the
+Community, some of brick and some of wood, so covered with creepers and
+so encircled with verandahs that I can’t tell you to this day what style
+of architecture they were built in. More trees behind the houses--and,
+on the other side of the hill, cornfields, nothing but cornfields
+rolling away and away in great yellow plains, till they reached the
+golden sky and the setting sun, and were seen no more. That was our
+first view of Tadmor, when the stage-coach dropped us at the town.”
+
+Mr. Hethcote still held out. “And what about the people who live in this
+earthly Paradise?” he asked. “Male and female saints--eh?”
+
+“Oh dear no, sir! The very opposite of saints. They eat and drink like
+their neighbours. They never think of wearing dirty horsehair when they
+can get clean linen. And when they are tempted to misconduct themselves,
+they find a better way out of it than knotting a cord and thrashing
+their own backs. Saints! They all ran out together to bid us welcome
+like a lot of school-children; the first thing they did was to kiss us,
+and the next thing was to give us a mug of wine of their own making.
+Saints! Oh, Mr. Hethcote, what will you accuse us of being next? I
+declare your suspicions of the poor Socialists keep cropping up again as
+fast as I cut them down. May I make a guess, sir, without offending
+you? From one or two things I have noticed, I strongly suspect you’re a
+British clergyman.”
+
+Mr. Hethcote was conquered at last: he burst out laughing. “You have
+discovered me,” he said, “travelling in a coloured cravat and a shooting
+jacket! I confess I should like to know how.”
+
+“It’s easily explained, sir. Visitors of all sorts are welcome at
+Tadmor. We have a large experience of them in the travelling season.
+They all come with their own private suspicion of us lurking about the
+corners of their eyes. They see everything we have to show them, and eat
+and drink at our table, and join in our amusements, and get as pleasant
+and friendly with us as can be. The time comes to say goodbye--and then
+we find them out. If a guest who has been laughing and enjoying himself
+all day, suddenly becomes serious when he takes his leave, and shows
+that little lurking devil of suspicion again about the corners of his
+eyes--it’s ten chances to one that he’s a clergyman. No offence, Mr.
+Hethcote! I acknowledge with pleasure that the corners of _your_ eyes
+are clear again. You’re not a very clerical clergyman, sir, after all--I
+don’t despair of converting you, yet!”
+
+“Go on with your story, Amelius. You’re the queerest fellow I have met
+with, for many a long day past.”
+
+“I’m a little doubtful about going on with my story, sir. I have told
+you how I got to Tadmor, and what it looks like, and what sort of people
+live in the place. If I am to get on beyond that, I must jump to the
+time when I was old enough to learn the Rules of the Community.”
+
+“Well--and what then?”
+
+“Well, Mr. Hethcote, some of the Rules might offend you.”
+
+“Try!”
+
+“All right, sir! don’t blame me; _I’m_ not ashamed of the Rules. And
+now, if I am to speak, I must speak seriously on a serious subject; I
+must begin with our religious principles. We find our Christianity in
+the spirit of the New Testament--not in the letter. We have three good
+reasons for objecting to pin our faith on the words alone, in that book.
+First, because we are not sure that the English translation is always
+to be depended on as accurate and honest. Secondly, because we know that
+(since the invention of printing) there is not a copy of the book in
+existence which is free from errors of the press, and that (before the
+invention of printing) those errors, in manuscript copies, must as
+a matter of course have been far more serious and far more numerous.
+Thirdly, because there is plain internal evidence (to say nothing of
+discoveries actually made in the present day) of interpolations and
+corruptions, introduced into the manuscript copies as they succeeded
+each other in ancient times. These drawbacks are of no importance,
+however, in our estimation. We find, in the spirit of the book, the most
+simple and most perfect system of religion and morality that humanity
+has ever received--and with that we are content. To reverence God;
+and to love our neighbour as ourselves: if we had only those two
+commandments to guide us, we should have enough. The whole collection of
+Doctrines (as they are called) we reject at once, without even stopping
+to discuss them. We apply to them the test suggested by Christ himself:
+by their fruits ye shall know them. The fruits of Doctrines, in the past
+(to quote three instances only), have been the Spanish Inquisition, the
+Massacre of St. Bartholomew, and the Thirty Years’ War--and the fruits,
+in the present, are dissension, bigotry, and opposition to useful
+reforms. Away with Doctrines! In the interests of Christianity, away
+with them! We are to love our enemies; we are to forgive injuries; we
+are to help the needy; we are to be pitiful and courteous, slow to judge
+others, and ashamed to exalt ourselves. That teaching doesn’t lead to
+tortures, massacres, and wars; to envy, hatred, and malice--and for that
+reason it stands revealed to us as the teaching that we can trust. There
+is our religion, sir, as we find it in the Rules of the Community.”
+
+“Very well, Amelius. I notice, in passing, that the Community is in one
+respect like the Pope--the Community is infallible. We won’t dwell on
+that. You have stated your principles. As to the application of them
+next? Nobody has a right to be rich among you, of course?”
+
+“Put it the other way, Mr. Hethcote. All men have a right to be
+rich--provided they don’t make other people poor, as a part of the
+process. We don’t trouble ourselves much about money; that’s the truth.
+We are farmers, carpenters, weavers, and printers; and what we earn (ask
+our neighbours if we don’t earn it honestly) goes into the common fund.
+A man who comes to us with money puts it into the fund, and so makes
+things easy for the next man who comes with empty pockets. While they
+are with us, they all live in the same comfort, and have their equal
+share in the same profits--deducting the sum in reverse for sudden calls
+and bad times. If they leave us, the man who has brought money with
+him has his undisputed right to take it away again; and the man who has
+brought none bids us good-bye, all the richer for his equal share in the
+profits which he has personally earned. The only fuss at our place about
+money that I can remember was the fuss about my five hundred a year. I
+wanted to hand it over to the fund. It was my own, mind--inherited from
+my mother’s property, on my coming of age. The Elders wouldn’t hear of
+it: the Council wouldn’t hear of it: the general vote of the Community
+wouldn’t hear of it. ‘We agreed with his father that he should decide
+for himself, when he grew to manhood’--that was how they put it. ‘Let
+him go back to the Old World; and let him be free to choose, by the test
+of his own experience, what his future life shall be.’ How do you think
+it will end, Mr. Hethcote? Shall I return to the Community? Or shall I
+stop in London?”
+
+Mr. Hethcote answered, without a moment’s hesitation. “You will stop in
+London.”
+
+“I’ll bet you two to one, Sir, he goes back to the Community.”
+
+In those words, a third voice (speaking in a strong New England accent)
+insinuated itself into the conversation from behind. Amelius and Mr.
+Hethcote, looking round, discovered a long, lean, grave stranger--with
+his face overshadowed by a huge felt hat. “Have you been listening to
+our conversation?” Mr. Hethcote asked haughtily.
+
+“I have been listening,” answered the grave stranger, “with considerable
+interest. This young man, I find, opens a new chapter to me in the book
+of humanity. Do you accept my bet, Sir? My name is Rufus Dingwell; and
+my home is at Coolspring, Mass. You do _not_ bet? I express my regret,
+and have the pleasure of taking a seat alongside of you. What is your
+name, Sir? Hethcote? We have one of that name at Coolspring. He is much
+respected. Mr. Claude A. Goldenheart, you are no stranger to me--no,
+Sir. I procured your name from the steward, when the little difficulty
+occurred just now about the bird. Your name considerably surprised me.”
+
+“Why?” Amelius asked.
+
+“Well, sir--not to say that your surname (being Goldenheart) reminds
+one unexpectedly of _The Pilgrim’s Progress_--I happen to be already
+acquainted with you. By reputation.”
+
+Amelius looked puzzled. “By reputation?” he said. “What does that mean?”
+
+“It means, sir, that you occupy a prominent position in a recent number
+of our popular journal, entitled _The Coolspring Democrat._ The late
+romantic incident which caused the withdrawal of Miss Mellicent from
+your Community has produced a species of social commotion at Coolspring.
+Among our ladies, the tone of sentiment, Sir, is universally favourable
+to you. When I left, I do assure you, you were a popular character among
+us. The name of Claude A. Goldenheart was, so to speak, in everybody’s
+mouth.”
+
+Amelius listened to this, with the colour suddenly deepening on his
+face, and with every appearance of heartfelt annoyance and regret.
+“There is no such thing as keeping a secret in America,” he said,
+irritably. “Some spy must have got among us; none of _our_ people would
+have exposed the poor lady to public comment. How would you like it, Mr.
+Dingwell, if the newspaper published the private sorrows of your wife or
+your daughter?”
+
+Rufus Dingwell answered with the straightforward sincerity of feeling
+which is one of the indisputable virtues of his nation. “I had not
+thought of it in that light, sir,” he said. “You have been good enough
+to credit me with a wife or a daughter. I do not possess either of those
+ladies; but your argument hits me, notwithstanding--hits me hard, I
+tell you.” He looked at Mr. Hethcote, who sat silently and stiffly
+disapproving of all this familiarity, and applied himself in perfect
+innocence and good faith to making things pleasant in that quarter. “You
+are a stranger, Sir,” said Rufus; “and you will doubtless wish to peruse
+the article which is the subject of conversation?” He took a newspaper
+slip from his pocket-book, and offered it to the astonished Englishman.
+“I shall be glad to hear your sentiments, sir, on the view propounded by
+our mutual friend, Claude A. Goldenheart.”
+
+Before Mr. Hethcote could reply, Amelius interposed in his own headlong
+way. “Give it to me! I want to read it first!”
+
+He snatched at the newspaper slip. Rufus checked him with grave
+composure. “I am of a cool temperament myself, sir; but that don’t
+prevent me from admiring heat in others. Short of boiling point--mind
+that!” With this hint, the wise New Englander permitted Amelius to take
+possession of the printed slip.
+
+Mr. Hethcote, finding an opportunity of saying a word at last, asserted
+himself a little haughtily. “I beg you will both of you understand that
+I decline to read anything which relates to another person’s private
+affairs.”
+
+Neither the one nor the other of his companions paid the slightest heed
+to this announcement. Amelius was reading the newspaper extract, and
+placid Rufus was watching him. In another moment, he crumpled up the
+slip, and threw it indignantly on the deck. “It’s as full of lies as it
+can hold!” he burst out.
+
+“It’s all over the United States, by this time,” Rufus remarked. “And I
+don’t doubt we shall find the English papers have copied it, when we
+get to Liverpool. If you will take my advice, sir, you will cultivate a
+sagacious insensibility to the comments of the press.”
+
+“Do you think I care for myself?” Amelius asked indignantly. “It’s the
+poor woman I am thinking of. What can I do to clear her character?”
+
+“Well, sir,” suggested Rufus, “in your place, I should have a
+notification circulated through the ship, announcing a lecture on the
+subject (weather permitting) in the course of the afternoon. That’s the
+way we should do it at Coolspring.”
+
+Amelius listened without conviction. “It’s certainly useless to make a
+secret of the matter now,” he said; “but I don’t see my way to making
+it more public still.” He paused, and looked at Mr. Hethcote. “It so
+happens, sir,” he resumed, “that this unfortunate affair is an example
+of some of the Rules of our Community, which I had not had time to
+speak of, when Mr. Dingwell here joined us. It will be a relief to me
+to contradict these abominable falsehoods to somebody; and I should like
+(if you don’t mind) to hear what you think of my conduct, from your own
+point of view. It might prepare me,” he added, smiling rather uneasily,
+“for what I may find in the English newspapers.”
+
+With these words of introduction he told his sad story--jocosely
+described in the newspaper heading as “Miss Mellicent and Goldenheart
+among the Socialists at Tadmor.”
+
+
+CHAPTER 3
+
+“Nearly six months since,” said Amelius, “we had notice by letter of the
+arrival of an unmarried English lady, who wished to become a member of
+our Community. You will understand my motive in keeping her family name
+a secret: even the newspaper has grace enough only to mention her by
+her Christian name. I don’t want to cheat you out of your interest; so
+I will own at once that Miss Mellicent was not beautiful, and not young.
+When she came to us, she was thirty-eight years old, and time and trial
+had set their marks on her face plainly enough for anybody to see.
+Notwithstanding this, we all thought her an interesting woman. It might
+have been the sweetness of her voice; or perhaps it was something in her
+expression that took our fancy. There! I can’t explain it; I can only
+say there were young women and pretty women at Tadmor who failed to win
+us as Miss Mellicent did. Contradictory enough, isn’t it?”
+
+Mr. Hethcote said he understood the contradiction. Rufus put an
+appropriate question: “Do you possess a photograph of this lady, sir?”
+
+“No,” said Amelius; “I wish I did. Well, we received her, on her
+arrival, in the Common Room--called so because we all assemble there
+every evening, when the work of the day is done. Sometimes we have
+the reading of a poem or a novel; sometimes debates on the social and
+political questions of the time in England and America; sometimes music,
+or dancing, or cards, or billiards, to amuse us. When a new member
+arrives, we have the ceremonies of introduction. I was close by the
+Elder Brother (that’s the name we give to the chief of the Community)
+when two of the women led Miss Mellicent in. He’s a hearty old fellow,
+who lived the first part of his life on his own clearing in one of the
+Western forests. To this day, he can’t talk long, without showing, in
+one way or another, that his old familiarity with the trees still keeps
+its place in his memory. He looked hard at Miss Mellicent, under his
+shaggy old white eyebrows; and I heard him whisper to himself, ‘Ah, dear
+me! Another of The Fallen Leaves!’ I knew what he meant. The people who
+have drawn blanks in the lottery of life--the people who have toiled
+hard after happiness, and have gathered nothing but disappointment and
+sorrow; the friendless and the lonely, the wounded and the lost--these
+are the people whom our good Elder Brother calls The Fallen Leaves.
+I like the saying myself; it’s a tender way of speaking of our poor
+fellow-creatures who are down in the world.”
+
+He paused for a moment, looking out thoughtfully over the vast void of
+sea and sky. A passing shadow of sadness clouded his bright young face.
+The two elder men looked at him in silence, feeling (in widely different
+ways) the same compassionate interest. What was the life that lay before
+him? And--God help him!--what would he do with it?
+
+“Where did I leave off?” he asked, rousing himself suddenly.
+
+“You left Miss Mellicent, sir, in the Common Room--the venerable citizen
+with the white eyebrows being suitably engaged in moralizing on her.” In
+those terms the ever-ready Rufus set the story going again.
+
+“Quite right,” Amelius resumed. “There she was, poor thing, a little
+thin timid creature, in a white dress, with a black scarf over her
+shoulders, trembling and wondering in a room full of strangers. The
+Elder Brother took her by the hand, and kissed her on the forehead, and
+bade her heartily welcome in the name of the Community. Then the women
+followed his example, and the men all shook hands with her. And then our
+chief put the three questions, which he is bound to address to all new
+arrivals when they join us: ‘Do you come here of your own free will? Do
+you bring with you a written recommendation from one of our brethren,
+which satisfies us that we do no wrong to ourselves or to others in
+receiving you? Do you understand that you are not bound to us by
+vows, and that you are free to leave us again if the life here is not
+agreeable to you?’ Matters being settled so far, the reading of the
+Rules, and the Penalties imposed for breaking them, came next. Some
+of the Rules you know already; others of smaller importance I needn’t
+trouble you with. As for the Penalties, if you incur the lighter ones,
+you are subject to public rebuke, or to isolation for a time from the
+social life of the Community. If you incur the heavier ones, you are
+either sent out into the world again for a given period, to return
+or not as you please; or you are struck off the list of members, and
+expelled for good and all. Suppose these preliminaries agreed to by Miss
+Mellicent with silent submission, and let us go on to the close of the
+ceremony--the reading of the Rules which settle the questions of Love
+and Marriage.”
+
+“Aha!” said Mr. Hethcote, “we are coming to the difficulties of the
+Community at last!”
+
+“Are we also coming to Miss Mellicent, sir?” Rufus inquired. “As a
+citizen of a free country in which I can love in one State, marry
+in another, and be divorced in a third, I am not interested in your
+Rules--I am interested in your Lady.”
+
+“The two are inseparable in this case,” Amelius answered gravely. “If I
+am to speak of Miss Mellicent, I must speak of the Rules; you will soon
+see why. Our Community becomes a despotism, gentlemen, in dealing with
+love and marriage. For example, it positively prohibits any member
+afflicted with hereditary disease from marrying at all; and it reserves
+to itself, in the case of every proposed marriage among us, the right of
+permitting or forbidding it, in council. We can’t even fall in love with
+each other, without being bound, under penalties, to report it to the
+Elder Brother; who, in his turn, communicates it to the monthly council;
+who, in their turn, decide whether the courtship may go on or not.
+That’s not the worst of it, even yet! In some cases--where we haven’t
+the slightest intention of falling in love with each other--the
+governing body takes the initiative. ‘You two will do well to marry; we
+see it, if you don’t. Just think of it, will you?’ You may laugh; some
+of our happiest marriages have been made in that way. Our governors in
+council act on an established principle: here it is in a nutshell. The
+results of experience in the matter of marriage, all over the world,
+show that a really wise choice of a husband or a wife is an exception
+to the rule; and that husbands and wives in general would be happier
+together if their marriages were managed for them by competent advisers
+on either side. Laws laid down on such lines as these, and others
+equally strict, which I have not mentioned yet, were not put in force,
+Mr. Hethcote, as you suppose, without serious difficulties--difficulties
+which threatened the very existence of the Community. But that was
+before my time. When I grew up, I found the husbands and wives about me
+content to acknowledge that the Rules fulfilled the purpose with which
+they had been made--the greatest happiness of the greatest number. It
+all looks very absurd, I dare say, from your point of view. But these
+queer regulations of ours answer the Christian test--by their fruits ye
+shall know them. Our married people don’t live on separate sides of the
+house; our children are all healthy; wife-beating is unknown among us;
+and the practice in our divorce court wouldn’t keep the most moderate
+lawyer on bread and cheese. Can you say as much for the success of
+the marriage laws in Europe? I leave you, gentlemen, to form your own
+opinions.”
+
+Mr. Hethcote declined to express an opinion. Rufus declined to resign
+his interest in the lady. “And what did Miss Mellicent say to it?” he
+inquired.
+
+“She said something that startled us all,” Amelius replied. “When
+the Elder Brother began to read the first words relating to love and
+marriage in the Book of Rules, she turned deadly pale; and rose up in
+her place with a sudden burst of courage or desperation--I don’t know
+which. ‘Must you read that to me?’ she asked. ‘I have nothing to do with
+love or marriage.’ The Elder Brother laid aside his Book of Rules. ‘If
+you are afflicted with an hereditary malady,’ he said, ‘the doctor from
+the town will examine you, and report to us.’ She answered, ‘I have no
+hereditary malady.’ The Elder Brother took up his book again. ‘In due
+course of time, my dear, the Council will decide for you whether you are
+to love and marry or not.’ And he read the Rules. She sat down again,
+and hid her face in her hands, and never moved or spoke until he had
+done. The regular questions followed. Had she anything to say, in the
+way of objection? Nothing! In that case, would she sign the Rules? Yes!
+When the time came for supper, she excused herself, just like a child.
+‘I feel very tired; may I go to bed?’ The unmarried women in the same
+dormitory with her anticipated some romantic confession when she grew
+used to her new friends. They proved to be wrong. ‘My life has been one
+long disappointment,’ was all she said. ‘You will do me a kindness if
+you will take me as I am, and not ask me to talk about myself.’ There
+was nothing sulky or ungracious in the expression of her wish to keep
+her own secret. A kinder and sweeter woman--never thinking of herself,
+always considerate of others--never lived. An accidental discovery made
+me her chief friend, among the men: it turned out that her childhood had
+been passed, where my childhood had been passed, at Shedfield Heath,
+in Buckinghamshire. She was never weary of consulting my boyish
+recollections, and comparing them with her own. ‘I love the place,’ she
+used to say; ‘the only happy time of my life was the time passed there.’
+On my sacred word of honour, this was the sort of talk that passed
+between us, for week after week. What other talk could pass between a
+man whose one and twentieth birthday was then near at hand, and a
+woman who was close on forty? What could I do, when the poor, broken,
+disappointed creature met me on the hill or by the river, and said, ‘You
+are going out for a walk; may I come with you?’ I never attempted to
+intrude myself into her confidence; I never even asked her why she had
+joined the Community. You see what is coming, don’t you? _I_ never saw
+it. I didn’t know what it meant, when some of the younger women, meeting
+us together, looked at me (not at her), and smiled maliciously. My
+stupid eyes were opened at last by the woman who slept in the next bed
+to her in the dormitory--a woman old enough to be my mother, who took
+care of me when I was a child at Tadmor. She stopped me one morning,
+on my way to fish in the river. ‘Amelius,’ she said, ‘don’t go to
+the fishing-house; Mellicent is waiting for you.’ I stared at her in
+astonishment. She held up her finger at me: ‘Take care, you foolish boy!
+You are drifting into a false position as fast as you can. Have you no
+suspicion of what is going on?’ I looked all round me, in search of what
+was going on. Nothing out of the common was to be seen anywhere. ‘What
+can you possibly mean?’ I asked. ‘You will only laugh at me, if I tell
+you,’ she said. I promised not to laugh. She too looked all round her,
+as if she was afraid of somebody being near enough to hear us; and then
+she let out the secret. ‘Amelius, ask for a holiday--and leave us for a
+while. Mellicent is in love with you.’”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 4
+
+Amelius looked at his companions, in some doubt whether they would
+preserve their gravity at this critical point in his story. They both
+showed him that his apprehensions were well founded. He was a little
+hurt, and he instantly revealed it. “I own to my shame that I burst out
+laughing myself,” he said. “But you two gentlemen are older and wiser
+than I am. I didn’t expect to find you just as ready to laugh at poor
+Miss Mellicent as I was.”
+
+Mr. Hethcote declined to be reminded of his duties as a middle-aged
+gentleman in this backhanded manner. “Gently, Amelius! You can’t expect
+to persuade us that a laughable thing is not a thing to be laughed at.
+A woman close on forty who falls in love with a young fellow of
+twenty-one--”
+
+“Is a laughable circumstance,” Rufus interposed. “Whereas a man of forty
+who fancies a young woman of twenty-one is all in the order of Nature.
+The men have settled it so. But why the women are to give up so much
+sooner than the men is a question, sir, on which I have long wished to
+hear the sentiments of the women themselves.”
+
+Mr. Hethcote dismissed the sentiments of the women with a wave of his
+hand. “Let us hear the rest of it, Amelius. Of course you went on to the
+fishing-house? And of course you found Miss Mellicent there?”
+
+“She came to the door to meet me, much as usual,” Amelius resumed, “and
+suddenly checked herself in the act of shaking hands with me. I can only
+suppose she saw something in my face that startled her. How it happened,
+I can’t say; but I felt my good spirits forsake me the moment I found
+myself in her presence. I doubt if she had ever seen me so serious
+before. ‘Have I offended you?’ she asked. Of course, I denied it; but
+I failed to satisfy her. She began to tremble. ‘Has somebody said
+something against me? Are you weary of my company?’ Those were the next
+questions. It was useless to say No. Some perverse distrust of me, or
+some despair of herself, overpowered her on a sudden. She sank down
+on the floor of the fishing-house, and began to cry--not a good hearty
+burst of tears; a silent, miserable, resigned sort of crying, as if she
+had lost all claim to be pitied, and all right to feel wounded or hurt.
+I was so distressed, that I thought of nothing but consoling her. I
+meant well, and I acted like a fool. A sensible man would have lifted
+her up, I suppose, and left her to herself. I lifted her up, and put my
+arm round her waist. She looked at me as I did it. For just a moment,
+I declare she became twenty years younger! She blushed as I have never
+seen a woman blush before or since--the colour flowed all over her neck
+as well as her face. Before I could say a word, she caught hold of my
+hand, and (of all the confusing things in the world!) kissed it. ‘No!’
+she cried, ‘don’t despise me! don’t laugh at me! Wait, and hear what
+my life has been, and then you will understand why a little kindness
+overpowers me.’ She looked round the corner of the fishing-house
+suspiciously. ‘I don’t want anybody else to hear us,’ she said, ‘all the
+pride isn’t beaten out of me yet. Come to the lake, and row me about in
+the boat.’ I took her out in the boat. Nobody could hear us certainly;
+but she forgot, and I forgot, that anybody might see us, and that
+appearances on the lake might lead to false conclusions on shore.”
+
+Mr. Hethcote and Rufus exchanged significant looks. They had not
+forgotten the Rules of the Community, when two of its members showed a
+preference for each other’s society.
+
+Amelius proceeded. “Well, there we were on the lake. I paddled with the
+oars, and she opened her whole heart to me. Her troubles had begun, in
+a very common way, with her mother’s death and her father’s second
+marriage. She had a brother and a sister--the sister married a German
+merchant, settled in New York; the brother comfortably established as
+a sheep-farmer in Australia. So, you see, she was alone at home, at the
+mercy of the step-mother. I don’t understand these cases myself, but
+people who do, tell me that there are generally faults on both sides. To
+make matters worse, they were a poor family; the one rich relative being
+a sister of the first wife, who disapproved of the widower marrying
+again, and never entered the house afterwards. Well, the step-mother had
+a sharp tongue, and Mellicent was the first person to feel the sting of
+it. She was reproached with being an encumbrance on her father, when
+she ought to be doing something for herself. There was no need to repeat
+those harsh words. The next day she answered an advertisement. Before
+the week was over, she was earning her bread as a daily governess.”
+
+Here Rufus stopped the narrative, having an interesting question to put.
+“Might I inquire, sir, what her salary was?”
+
+“Thirty pounds a year,” Amelius replied. “She was out teaching from nine
+o’clock to two--and then went home again.”
+
+“There seems to be nothing to complain of in that, as salaries go,” Mr.
+Hethcote remarked.
+
+“She made no complaint,” Amelius rejoined. “She was satisfied with her
+salary; but she wasn’t satisfied with her life. The meek little woman
+grew downright angry when she spoke of it. ‘I had no reason to complain
+of my employers,’ she said. ‘I was civilly treated and punctually
+paid; but I never made friends of them. I tried to make friends of the
+children; and sometimes I thought I had succeeded--but, oh dear, when
+they were idle, and I was obliged to keep them to their lessons, I soon
+found how little hold I had on the love that I wanted them to give me.
+We see children in books who are perfect little angels; never envious
+or greedy or sulky or deceitful; always the same sweet, pious, tender,
+grateful, innocent creatures--and it has been my misfortune never to
+meet with them, go where I might! It is a hard world, Amelius, the
+world that I have lived in. I don’t think there are such miserable lives
+anywhere as the lives led by the poor middle classes in England.
+From year’s end to year’s end, the one dreadful struggle to keep up
+appearances, and the heart-breaking monotony of an existence without
+change. We lived in the back street of a cheap suburb. I declare to
+you we had but one amusement in the whole long weary year--the annual
+concert the clergyman got up, in aid of his schools. The rest of the
+year it was all teaching for the first half of the day, and needlework
+for the young family for the other half. My father had religious
+scruples; he prohibited theatres, he prohibited dancing and light
+reading; he even prohibited looking in at the shop-windows, because we
+had no money to spare and they tempted us to buy. He went to business in
+the morning, and came back at night, and fell asleep after dinner,
+and woke up and read prayers--and next day to business and back, and
+sleeping and waking and reading prayers--and no break in it, week after
+week, month after month, except on Sunday, which was always the same
+Sunday; the same church, the same service, the same dinner, the same
+book of sermons in the evening. Even when we had a fortnight once a year
+at the seaside, we always went to the same place and lodged in the same
+cheap house. The few friends we had led just the same lives, and were
+beaten down flat by just the same monotony. All the women seemed to
+submit to it contentedly except my miserable self. I wanted so little!
+Only a change now and then; only a little sympathy when I was weary
+and sick at heart; only somebody whom I could love and serve, and be
+rewarded with a smile and a kind word in return. Mothers shook their
+heads, and daughters laughed at me. Have we time to be sentimental?
+Haven’t we enough to do, darning and mending, and turning our dresses,
+and making the joint last as long as possible, and keeping the children
+clean, and doing the washing at home--and tea and sugar rising, and my
+husband grumbling every week when I have to ask him for the house-money.
+Oh, no more of it! no more of it! People meant for better things all
+ground down to the same sordid and selfish level--is that a pleasant
+sight to contemplate? I shudder when I think of the last twenty years of
+my life!’ That’s what she complained of, Mr. Hethcote, in the solitary
+middle of the lake, with nobody but me to hear her.”
+
+“In my country, sir,” Rufus remarked, “the Lecture Bureau would have
+provided for her amusement, on economical terms. And I reckon, if a
+married life would fix her, she might have tried it among Us by way of a
+change.”
+
+“That’s the saddest part of the story,” said Amelius. “There came a
+time, only two years ago, when her prospects changed for the better. Her
+rich aunt (her mother’s sister) died; and--what do you think?--left her
+a legacy of six thousand pounds. There was a gleam of sunshine in her
+life! The poor teacher was an heiress in a small way, with her fortune
+at her own disposal. They had something like a festival at home, for the
+first time; presents to everybody, and kissings and congratulations,
+and new dresses at last. And, more than that, another wonderful event
+happened before long. A gentleman made his appearance in the family
+circle, with an interesting object in view--a gentleman, who had called
+at the house in which she happened to be employed as teacher at the
+time, and had seen her occupied with her pupils. He had kept it
+to himself to be sure, but he had secretly admired her from that
+moment--and now it had come out! She had never had a lover before; mind
+that. And he was a remarkably handsome man: dressed beautifully, and
+sang and played, and was so humble and devoted with it all. Do you think
+it wonderful that she said Yes, when he proposed to marry her? I don’t
+think it wonderful at all. For the first few weeks of the courtship,
+the sunshine was brighter than ever. Then the clouds began to rise.
+Anonymous letters came, describing the handsome gentleman (seen under
+his fair surface) as nothing less than a scoundrel. She tore up the
+letters indignantly--she was too delicate even to show them to him.
+Signed letters came next, addressed to her father by an uncle and
+an aunt, both containing one and the same warning: ‘If your daughter
+insists on having him, tell her to take care of her money.’ A few days
+later, a visitor arrived--a brother, who spoke out more plainly still.
+As an honourable man, he could not hear of what was going on, without
+making the painful confession that his brother was forbidden to enter
+his house. That said, he washed his hands of all further responsibility.
+You two know the world, you will guess how it ended. Quarrels in the
+household; the poor middle-aged woman, living in her fool’s paradise,
+blindly true to her lover; convinced that he was foully wronged; frantic
+when he declared that he would not connect himself with a family which
+suspected him. Ah, I have no patience when I think of it, and I almost
+wish I had never begun to tell the story! Do you know what he did? She
+was free of course, at her age, to decide for herself; there was no
+controlling her. The wedding day was fixed. Her father had declared he
+would not sanction it; and her step-mother kept him to his word.
+She went alone to the church, to meet her promised husband. He never
+appeared; he deserted her, mercilessly deserted her--after she had
+sacrificed her own relations to him--on her wedding-day. She was taken
+home insensible, and had a brain fever. The doctors declined to answer
+for her life. Her father thought it time to look to her banker’s
+pass-book. Out of her six thousand pounds she had privately given no
+less than four thousand to the scoundrel who had deceived and forsaken
+her! Not a month afterwards he married a young girl--with a fortune of
+course. We read of such things in newspapers and books. But to have them
+brought home to one, after living one’s own life among honest people--I
+tell you it stupefied me!”
+
+He said no more. Below them in the cabin, voices were laughing and
+talking, to a cheerful accompaniment of clattering knives and forks.
+Around them spread the exultant glory of sea and sky. All that they
+heard, all that they saw, was cruelty out of harmony with the miserable
+story which had just reached its end. With one accord the three men rose
+and paced the deck, feeling physically the same need of some movement to
+lighten their spirits. With one accord they waited a little, before the
+narrative was resumed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 5
+
+Mr. Hethcote was the first to speak again.
+
+“I can understand the poor creature’s motive in joining your Community,”
+ he said. “To a person of any sensibility her position, among such
+relatives as you describe, must have been simply unendurable after what
+had happened. How did she hear of Tadmor and the Socialists?”
+
+“She had read one of our books,” Amelius answered; “and she had her
+married sister at New York to go to. There were moments, after her
+recovery (she confessed it to me frankly), when the thought of suicide
+was in her mind. Her religious scruples saved her. She was kindly
+received by her sister and her sister’s husband. They proposed to keep
+her with them to teach their children. No! the new life offered to her
+was too like the old life--she was broken in body and mind; she had
+no courage to face it. We have a resident agent in New York; and he
+arranged for her journey to Tadmor. There is a gleam of brightness, at
+any rate, in this part of her story. She blessed the day, poor soul,
+when she joined us. Never before had she found herself among such
+kind-hearted, unselfish, simple people. Never before--” he abruptly
+checked himself, and looked a little confused.
+
+Obliging Rufus finished the sentence for him. “Never before had she
+known a young man with such natural gifts of fascination as C.A.G. Don’t
+you be too modest, sir; it doesn’t pay, I assure you, in the nineteenth
+century.”
+
+Amelius was not as ready with his laugh as usual. “I wish I could drop
+it at the point we have reached now,” he said. “But she has left Tadmor;
+and, in justice to her (after the scandals in the newspaper), I must
+tell you how she left it, and why. The mischief began when I was helping
+her out of the boat. Two of our young women met us on the bank of the
+lake, and asked me how I got on with my fishing. They didn’t mean any
+harm--they were only in their customary good spirits. Still, there was
+no mistaking their looks and tones when they put the question. Miss
+Mellicent, in her confusion, made matters worse. She coloured up, and
+snatched her hand out of mine, and ran back to the house by herself.
+The girls, enjoying their own foolish joke, congratulated me on my
+prospects. I must have been out of sorts in some way--upset, perhaps,
+by what I had heard in the boat. Anyhow, I lost my temper, and _I_ made
+matters worse, next. I said some angry words, and left them. The same
+evening I found a letter in my room. ‘For your sake, I must not be seen
+alone with you again. It is hard to lose the comfort of your sympathy,
+but I must submit. Think of me as kindly as I think of you. It has
+done me good to open my heart to you.’ Only those lines, signed by
+Mellicent’s initials. I was rash enough to keep the letter, instead of
+destroying it. All might have ended well, nevertheless, if she had only
+held to her resolution. But, unluckily, my twenty-first birthday was
+close at hand; and there was talk of keeping it as a festival in the
+Community. I was up with sunrise when the day came; having some farming
+work to look after, and wanting to get it over in good time. My shortest
+way back to breakfast was through a wood. In the wood I met her.”
+
+“Alone?” Mr. Hethcote asked.
+
+Rufus expressed his opinion of the wisdom of putting this question with
+his customary plainness of language. “When there’s a rash thing to be
+done by a man and a woman together, sir, philosophers have remarked that
+it’s always the woman who leads the way. Of course she was alone.”
+
+“She had a little present for me on my birthday,” Amelius explained--“a
+purse of her own making. And she was afraid of the ridicule of the young
+women, if she gave it to me openly. ‘You have my heart’s dearest wishes
+for your happiness; think of me sometimes, Amelius, when you open your
+purse.’ If you had been in my place, could you have told her to go away,
+when she said that, and put her gift into your hand? Not if she had been
+looking at you at the moment--I’ll swear you couldn’t have done it!”
+
+The lean yellow face of Rufus Dingwell relaxed for the first time into
+a broad grin. “There are further particulars, sir, stated in the
+newspaper,” he said slily.
+
+“Damn the newspaper!” Amelius answered.
+
+Rufus bowed, serenely courteous, with the air of a man who accepted a
+British oath as an unwilling compliment paid by the old country to the
+American press. “The newspaper report states, sir, that she kissed you.”
+
+“It’s a lie!” Amelius shouted.
+
+“Perhaps it’s an error of the press,” Rufus persisted. “Perhaps, _you_
+kissed _her?”_
+
+“Never mind what I did,” said Amelius savagely.
+
+Mr. Hethcote felt it necessary to interfere. He addressed Rufus in his
+most magnificent manner. “In England, Mr. Dingwell, a gentleman is not
+in the habit of disclosing these--er--these--er, er--”
+
+“These kissings in a wood?” suggested Rufus. “In my country, sir, we
+do not regard kissing, in or out of a wood, in the light of a shameful
+proceeding. Quite the contrary, I do assure you.”
+
+Amelius recovered his temper. The discussion was becoming too ridiculous
+to be endured by the unfortunate person who was the object of it.
+
+“Don’t let us make mountains out of molehills,” he said. “I did kiss
+her--there! A woman pressing the prettiest little purse you ever saw
+into your hand, and wishing you many happy returns of the day with the
+tears in her eyes; I should like to know what else was to be done but
+to kiss her. Ah, yes, smooth out your newspaper report, and have another
+look at it! She _did_ rest her head on my shoulder, poor soul, and she
+_did_ say, ‘Oh, Amelius, I thought my heart was turned to stone; feel
+how you have made it beat!’ When I remembered what she had told me in
+the boat, I declare to God I almost burst out crying myself--it was so
+innocent and so pitiful.”
+
+Rufus held out his hand with true American cordiality. “I do assure
+you, sir, I meant no harm,” he said. “The right grit is in you, and no
+mistake--and there goes the newspaper!” He rolled up the slip, and flung
+it overboard.
+
+Mr. Hethcote nodded his entire approval of this proceeding. Amelius went
+on with his story.
+
+“I’m near the end now,” he said. “If I had known it would have taken so
+long to tell--never mind! We got out of the wood at last, Mr. Rufus;
+and left it without a suspicion that we had been watched. I was prudent
+enough (when it was too late, you will say) to suggest to her that we
+had better be careful for the future. Instead of taking it seriously,
+she laughed. ‘Have you altered your mind, since you wrote to me?’ I
+asked. ‘To be sure I have,’ she said. ‘When I wrote to you I forgot the
+difference between your age and mine. Nothing that _we_ do will be taken
+seriously. I am afraid of their laughing at me, Amelius; but I am afraid
+of nothing else.’ I did my best to undeceive her. I told her plainly
+that people unequally matched in years--women older than men, as well as
+men older than women--were not uncommonly married among us. The council
+only looked to their being well suited in other ways, and declined to
+trouble itself about the question of age. I don’t think I produced much
+effect; she seemed, for once in her life, poor thing, to be too happy to
+look beyond the passing moment. Besides, there was the birthday festival
+to keep her mind from dwelling on doubts and fears that were not
+agreeable to her. And the next day there was another event to occupy
+our attention--the arrival of the lawyer’s letter from London, with the
+announcement of my inheritance on coming of age. It was settled, as you
+know, that I was to go out into the world, and to judge for myself; but
+the date of my departure was not fixed. Two days later, the storm that
+had been gathering for weeks past burst on us--we were cited to appear
+before the council to answer for an infraction of the Rules. Everything
+that I have confessed to you, and some things besides that I have kept
+to myself, lay formally inscribed on a sheet of paper placed on the
+council table--and pinned to the sheet of paper was Mellicent’s letter
+to me, found in my room. I took the whole blame on myself, and insisted
+on being confronted with the unknown person who had informed against
+us. The council met this by a question:--‘Is the information, in any
+particular, false?’ Neither of us could deny that it was, in every
+particular, true. Hearing this, the council decided that there was no
+need, on our own showing, to confront us with the informer. From that
+day to this, I have never known who the spy was. Neither Mellicent nor
+I had an enemy in the Community. The girls who had seen us on the lake,
+and some other members who had met us together, only gave their evidence
+on compulsion--and even then they prevaricated, they were so fond of us
+and so sorry for us. After waiting a day, the governing body pronounced
+their judgment. Their duty was prescribed to them by the Rules. We were
+sentenced to six months’ absence from the Community; to return or not
+as we pleased. A hard sentence, gentlemen--whatever _we_ may think of
+it--to homeless and friendless people, to the Fallen Leaves that had
+drifted to Tadmor. In my case it had been already arranged that I was
+to leave. After what had happened, my departure was made compulsory in
+four-and-twenty hours; and I was forbidden to return, until the date
+of my sentence had expired. In Mellicent’s case they were still more
+strict. They would not trust her to travel by herself. A female member
+of the Community was appointed to accompany her to the house of her
+married sister at New York: she was ordered to be ready for the journey
+by sunrise the next morning. We both understood, of course, that the
+object of this was to prevent our travelling together. They might have
+saved themselves the trouble of putting obstacles in our way.”
+
+“So far as You were concerned, I suppose?” said Mr. Hethcote.
+
+“So far as She was concerned also,” Amelius answered.
+
+“How did she take it, sir?” Rufus inquired.
+
+“With a composure that astonished us all,” said Amelius. “We had
+anticipated tears and entreaties for mercy. She stood up perfectly calm,
+far calmer than I was, with her head turned towards me, and her eyes
+resting quietly on my face. If you can imagine a woman whose whole being
+was absorbed in looking into the future; seeing what no mortal creature
+about her saw; sustained by hopes that no mortal creature about her
+could share--you may see her as I did, when she heard her sentence
+pronounced. The members of the Community, accustomed to take leave of an
+erring brother or sister with loving and merciful words, were all more
+or less distressed as they bade her farewell. Most of the women were in
+tears as they kissed her. They said the same kind words to her over and
+over again. ‘We are heartily sorry for you, dear; we shall all be glad
+to welcome you back.’ They sang our customary hymn at parting--and broke
+down before they got to the end. It was _she_ who consoled _them!_ Not
+once, through all that melancholy ceremony, did she lose her strange
+composure, her rapt mysterious look. I was the last to say farewell; and
+I own I couldn’t trust myself to speak. She held my hand in hers. For
+a moment, her face lighted up softly with a radiant smile--then the
+strange preoccupied expression flowed over her again, like shadow over a
+light. Her eyes, still looking into mine, seemed to look beyond me. She
+spoke low, in sad steady tones. ‘Be comforted, Amelius; the end is not
+yet.’ She put her hands on my head, and drew it down to her. ‘You will
+come back to me,’ she whispered--and kissed me on the forehead, before
+them all. When I looked up again, she was gone. I have neither seen her
+nor heard from her since. It’s all told, gentlemen--and some of it has
+distressed me in the telling. Let me go away for a minute by myself, and
+look at the sea.”
+
+
+
+
+
+BOOK THE SECOND. AMELIUS IN LONDON
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 1
+
+Oh, Rufus Dingwell, it is such a rainy day! And the London street which
+I look out on from my hotel window presents such a dirty and such a
+miserable view! Do you know, I hardly feel like the same Amelius who
+promised to write to you when you left the steamer at Queenstown. My
+spirits are sinking; I begin to feel old. Am I in the right state of
+mind to tell you what are my first impressions of London? Perhaps I may
+alter my opinion. At present (this is between ourselves), I don’t like
+London or London people--excepting two ladies, who, in very different
+ways, have interested and charmed me.
+
+Who are the ladies? I must tell you what I heard about them from Mr.
+Hethcote, before I present them to you on my own responsibility.
+
+After you left us, I found the last day of the voyage to Liverpool dull
+enough. Mr. Hethcote did not seem to feel it in the same way: on the
+contrary, he grew more familiar and confidential in his talk with me. He
+has some of the English stiffness, you see, and your American pace was
+a little too fast for him. On our last night on board, we had some more
+conversation about the Farnabys. You were not interested enough in the
+subject to attend to what he said about them while you were with us; but
+if you are to be introduced to the ladies, you must be interested now.
+Let me first inform you that Mr. and Mrs. Farnaby have no children; and
+let me add that they have adopted the daughter and orphan child of Mrs.
+Farnaby’s sister. This sister, it seems, died many years ago, surviving
+her husband for a few months only. To complete the story of the past,
+death has also taken old Mr. Ronald, the founder of the stationer’s
+business, and his wife, Mrs. Farnaby’s mother. Dry facts these--I don’t
+deny it; but there is something more interesting to follow. I have next
+to tell you how Mr. Hethcote first became acquainted with Mrs. Farnaby.
+Now, Rufus, we are coming to something romantic at last!
+
+It is some time since Mr. Hethcote ceased to perform his clerical
+duties, owing to a malady in the throat, which made it painful for him
+to take his place in the reading-desk or the pulpit. His last curacy
+attached him to a church at the West-end of London; and here, one Sunday
+evening, after he had preached the sermon, a lady in trouble came to him
+in the vestry for spiritual advice and consolation. She was a regular
+attendant at the church, and something which he had said in that
+evening’s sermon had deeply affected her. Mr. Hethcote spoke with her
+afterwards on many occasions at home. He felt a sincere interest in her,
+but he disliked her husband; and, when he gave up his curacy, he ceased
+to pay visits to the house. As to what Mrs. Farnaby’s troubles were, I
+can tell you nothing. Mr. Hethcote spoke very gravely and sadly when he
+told me that the subject of his conversations with her must be kept a
+secret. “I doubt whether you and Mr. Farnaby will get on well together,”
+ he said to me; “but I shall be astonished if you are not favourably
+impressed by his wife and her niece.”
+
+This was all I knew when I presented my letter of introduction to Mr.
+Farnaby at his place of business.
+
+It was a grand stone building, with great plate-glass windows--all
+renewed and improved, they told me, since old Mr. Ronald’s time. My
+letter and my card went into an office at the back, and I followed them
+after a while. A lean, hard, middle-aged man, buttoned up tight in a
+black frock-coat, received me, holding my written introduction open in
+his hand. He had a ruddy complexion not commonly seen in Londoners, so
+far as my experience goes. His iron-gray hair and whiskers (especially
+the whiskers) were in wonderfully fine order--as carefully oiled and
+combed as if he had just come out of a barber’s shop. I had been in the
+morning to the Zoological Gardens; his eyes, when he lifted them from
+the letter to me, reminded me of the eyes of the eagles--glassy and
+cruel. I have a fault that I can’t cure myself of. I like people, or
+dislike them, at first sight, without knowing, in either case, whether
+they deserve it or not. In the one moment when our eyes met, I felt the
+devil in me. In plain English, I hated Mr. Farnaby!
+
+“Good morning, sir,” he began, in a loud, harsh, rasping voice. “The
+letter you bring me takes me by surprise.”
+
+“I thought the writer was an old friend of yours,” I said.
+
+“An old friend of mine,” Mr. Farnaby answered, “whose errors I deplore.
+When he joined your Community, I looked upon him as a lost man. I am
+surprised at his writing to me.”
+
+It is quite likely I was wrong, knowing nothing of the usages of society
+in England. I thought this reception of me downright rude. I had laid my
+hat on a chair; I took it up in my hand again, and delivered a parting
+shot at the brute with the oily whiskers.
+
+“If I had known what you now tell me,” I said, “I should not have
+troubled you by presenting that letter. Good morning.”
+
+This didn’t in the least offend him. A curious smile broke out on his
+face; it widened his eyes, and it twitched up his mouth at one corner.
+He held out his hand to stop me. I waited, in case he felt bound to make
+an apology. He did nothing of the sort--he only made a remark.
+
+“You are young and hasty,” he said. “I may lament my friend’s
+extravagances, without failing on that account in what is due to an
+old friendship. You are probably not aware that we have no sympathy in
+England with Socialists.”
+
+I hit him back again. “In that case, sir, a little Socialism in England
+would do you no harm. We consider it a part of our duty as Christians
+to feel sympathy with all men who are honest in their convictions--no
+matter how mistaken (in our opinion) the convictions may be.” I rather
+thought I had him there; and I took up my hat again, to get off with the
+honours of victory while I had the chance.
+
+I am sincerely ashamed of myself, Rufus, in telling you all this.
+I ought to have given him back “the soft answer that turneth away
+wrath”--my conduct was a disgrace to my Community. What evil influence
+was at work in me? Was it the air of London? or was it a possession of
+the devil?
+
+He stopped me for the second time--not in the least disconcerted by what
+I had said to him. His inbred conviction of his own superiority to a
+young adventurer like me was really something magnificent to witness. He
+did me justice--the Philistine-Pharisee did me justice! Will you believe
+it? He made his remarks next on my good points, as if I had been a young
+bull at a prize cattle show.
+
+“Excuse me for noticing it,” he said. “Your manners are perfectly
+gentlemanlike, and you speak English without any accent. And yet you
+have been brought up in America. What does it mean?”
+
+I grew worse and worse--I got downright sulky now.
+
+“I suppose it means,” I answered, “that some of us, in America,
+cultivate ourselves as well as our land. We have our books and music,
+though you seem to think we only have our axes and spades. Englishmen
+don’t claim a monopoly of good manners at Tadmor. We see no difference
+between an American gentleman and an English gentleman. And as for
+speaking English with an accent, the Americans accuse _us_ of doing
+that.”
+
+He smiled again. “How very absurd!” he said, with a superb compassion
+for the benighted Americans. By this time, I suspect he began to feel
+that he had had enough of me. He got rid of me with an invitation.
+
+“I shall be glad to receive you at my private residence, and introduce
+you to my wife and her niece--our adopted daughter. There is the
+address. We have a few friends to dinner on Saturday next, at seven.
+Will you give us the pleasure of your company?”
+
+We are all aware that there is a distinction between civility and
+cordiality; but I myself never knew how wide that distinction might be,
+until Mr. Farnaby invited me to dinner. If I had not been curious (after
+what Mr. Hethcote had told me) to see Mrs. Farnaby and her niece,
+I should certainly have slipped out of the engagement. As it was, I
+promised to dine with Oily-Whiskers.
+
+He put his hand into mine at parting. It felt as moistly cold as a dead
+fish. After getting out again into the street, I turned into the first
+tavern I passed, and ordered a drink. Shall I tell you what else I did?
+I went into the lavatory, and washed Mr. Farnaby off my hand. (N.B.--If
+I had behaved in this way at Tadmor, I should have been punished with
+the lighter penalty--taking my meals by myself, and being forbidden to
+enter the Common Room for eight and forty hours.) I feel I am getting
+wickeder and wickeder in London--I have half a mind to join you in
+Ireland. What does Tom Moore say of his countrymen--he ought to know, I
+suppose? “For though they love women and golden store: Sir Knight, they
+love honour and virtue more!” They must have been all Socialists in Tom
+Moore’s time. Just the place for me.
+
+
+I have been obliged to wait a little. A dense fog has descended on us
+by way of variety. With a stinking coal fire, with the gas lit and the
+curtains drawn at half-past eleven in the forenoon, I feel that I am in
+my own country again at last. Patience, my friend--patience! I am coming
+to the ladies.
+
+Entering Mr. Farnaby’s private residence on the appointed day, I became
+acquainted with one more of the innumerable insincerities of modern
+English life. When a man asks you to dine with him at seven o’clock, in
+other countries, he means what he says. In England, he means half-past
+seven, and sometimes a quarter to eight. At seven o’clock I was the only
+person in Mr. Farnaby’s drawing-room. At ten minutes past seven, Mr.
+Farnaby made his appearance. I had a good mind to take his place in the
+middle of the hearth-rug, and say, “Farnaby, I am glad to see you.” But
+I looked at his whiskers; and _they_ said to me, as plainly as words
+could speak, “Better not!”
+
+In five minutes more, Mrs. Farnaby joined us.
+
+I wish I was a practised author--or, no, I would rather, for the moment,
+be a competent portrait-painter, and send you Mrs. Farnaby’s likeness
+enclosed. How I am to describe her in words, I really don’t know. My
+dear fellow, she almost frightened me. I never before saw such a woman;
+I never expect to see such a woman again. There was nothing in her
+figure, or in her way of moving, that produced this impression on
+me--she is little and fat, and walks with a firm, heavy step, like the
+step of a man. Her face is what I want to make you see as plainly as I
+saw it myself: it was her face that startled me.
+
+So far as I can pretend to judge, she must have been pretty, in a
+healthy way, when she was young. I declare I hardly know whether she is
+not pretty now. She certainly has no marks or wrinkles; her hair either
+has no gray in it, or is too light to show the gray. She has preserved
+her fair complexion; perhaps with art to assist it--I can’t say. As for
+her lips--I am not speaking disrespectfully, I am only describing them
+truly, when I say that they invite kisses in spite of her. In two words,
+though she has been married (as I know from what one of the guests told
+me after dinner) for sixteen years, she would be still an irresistible
+little woman, but for the one startling drawback of her eyes. Don’t
+mistake me. In themselves, they are large, well-opened blue eyes, and
+may at one time have been the chief attraction in her face. But now
+there is an expression of suffering in them--long, unsolaced suffering,
+as I believe--so despairing and so dreadful, that she really made my
+heart ache when I looked at her. I will swear to it, that woman lives in
+some secret hell of her own making, and longs for the release of death;
+and is so inveterately full of bodily life and strength, that she may
+carry her burden with her to the utmost verge of life. I am digging
+the pen into the paper, I feel this so strongly, and I am so wretchedly
+incompetent to express my feeling. Can you imagine a diseased mind,
+imprisoned in a healthy body? I don’t care what doctors or books may
+say--it is that, and nothing else. Nothing else will solve the mystery
+of the smooth face, the fleshy figure, the firm step, the muscular grip
+of her hand when she gives it to you--and the soul in torment that looks
+at you all the while out of her eyes. It is useless to tell me that such
+a contradiction as this cannot exist. I have seen the woman; and she
+does exist.
+
+Oh yes! I can fancy you grinning over my letter--I can hear you saying
+to yourself, “Where did he pick up his experience, I wonder?” I have no
+experience--I only have something that serves me instead of it, and
+I don’t know what. The Elder Brother, at Tadmor, used to say it was
+sympathy. But _he_ is a sentimentalist.
+
+Well, Mr. Farnaby presented me to his wife--and then walked away as if
+he was sick of us both, and looked out of the window.
+
+For some reason or other, Mrs. Farnaby seemed to be surprised, for the
+moment, by my personal appearance. Her husband had, very likely, not
+told her how young I was. She got over her momentary astonishment, and,
+signing to me to sit by her on the sofa, said the necessary words of
+welcome--evidently thinking something else all the time. The strange
+miserable eyes looked over my shoulder, instead of looking at me.
+
+“Mr. Farnaby tells me you have been living in America.”
+
+The tone in which she spoke was curiously quiet and monotonous. I
+have heard such tones, in the Far West, from lonely settlers without a
+neighbouring soul to speak to. Has Mrs. Farnaby no neighbouring soul to
+speak to, except at dinner parties?
+
+“You are an Englishman, are you not?” she went on.
+
+I said Yes, and cast about in my mind for something to say to her. She
+saved me the trouble by making me the victim of a complete series of
+questions. This, as I afterwards discovered, was _her_ way of finding
+conversation for strangers. Have you ever met with absent-minded people
+to whom it is a relief to ask questions mechanically, without feeling
+the slightest interest in the answers?
+
+She began. “Where did you live in America?”
+
+“At Tadmor, in the State of Illinois.”
+
+“What sort of place is Tadmor?”
+
+I described the place as well as I could, under the circumstances.
+
+“What made you go to Tadmor?”
+
+It was impossible to reply to this, without speaking of the Community.
+Feeling that the subject was not in the least likely to interest her,
+I spoke as briefly as I could. To my astonishment, I evidently began to
+interest her from that moment. The series of questions went on--but now
+she not only listened, she was eager for the answers.
+
+“Are there any women among you?”
+
+“Nearly as many women as men.”
+
+Another change! Over the weary misery of her eyes there flashed a bright
+look of interest which completely transformed them. Her articulation
+even quickened when she put her next question.
+
+“Are any of the women friendless creatures, who came to you from
+England?”
+
+“Yes, some of them.”
+
+I thought of Mellicent as I spoke. Was this new interest that I had so
+innocently aroused, an interest in Mellicent? Her next question only
+added to my perplexity. Her next question proved that my guess had
+completely failed to hit the mark.
+
+“Are there any _young_ women among them?”
+
+Mr. Farnaby, standing with his back to us thus far, suddenly turned and
+looked at her, when she inquired if there were “young” women among us.
+
+“Oh yes,” I said. “Mere girls.”
+
+She pressed so near to me that her knees touched mine. “How old?” she
+asked eagerly.
+
+Mr. Farnaby left the window, walked close up to the sofa, and
+deliberately interrupted us.
+
+“Nasty muggy weather, isn’t it?” he said. “I suppose the climate of
+America--”
+
+Mrs. Farnaby deliberately interrupted her husband. “How old?” she
+repeated, in a louder tone.
+
+I was bound, of course, to answer the lady of the house. “Some girls
+from eighteen to twenty. And some younger.”
+
+“How much younger?”
+
+“Oh, from sixteen to seventeen.”
+
+She grew more and more excited; she positively laid her hand on my arm
+in her eagerness to secure my attention all to herself. “American girls
+or English?” she resumed, her fat, firm fingers closing on me with a
+tremulous grasp.
+
+“Shall you be in town in November?” said Mr. Farnaby, purposely
+interrupting us again. “If you would like to see the Lord Mayor’s
+Show--”
+
+Mrs. Farnaby impatiently shook me by the arm. “American girls or
+English?” she reiterated, more obstinately than ever.
+
+Mr. Farnaby gave her one look. If he could have put her on the blazing
+fire and have burnt her up in an instant by an effort of will, I believe
+he would have made the effort. He saw that I was observing him, and
+turned quickly from his wife to me. His ruddy face was pale with
+suppressed rage. My early arrival had given Mrs. Farnaby an opportunity
+of speaking to me, which he had not anticipated in inviting me to
+dinner. “Come and see my pictures,” he said.
+
+His wife still held me fast. Whether he liked it or not, I had again
+no choice but to answer her. “Some American girls, and some English,” I
+said.
+
+Her eyes opened wider and wider in unutterable expectation. She suddenly
+advanced her face so close to mine, that I felt her hot breath on my
+cheeks as the next words burst their way through her lips.
+
+“Born in England?”
+
+“No. Born at Tadmor.”
+
+She dropped my arm. The light died out of her eyes in an instant. In
+some inconceivable way, I had utterly destroyed some secret expectation
+that she had fixed on me. She actually left me on the sofa, and took a
+chair on the opposite side of the fireplace. Mr. Farnaby, turning paler
+and paler, stepped up to her as she changed her place. I rose to look at
+the pictures on the wall nearest to me. You remarked the extraordinary
+keenness of my sense of hearing, while we were fellow passengers on the
+steamship. When he stooped over her, and whispered in her ear, I heard
+him--though nearly the whole breadth of the room was between us. “You
+hell-cat!”--that was what Mr. Farnaby said to his wife.
+
+The clock on the mantelpiece struck the half-hour after seven. In quick
+succession, the guests at the dinner now entered the room.
+
+I was so staggered by the extraordinary scene of married life which
+I had just witnessed, that the guests produced only a very faint
+impression upon me. My mind was absorbed in trying to find the true
+meaning of what I had seen and heard. Was Mrs. Farnaby a little mad?
+I dismissed that idea as soon as it occurred to me; nothing that I had
+observed in her justified it. The truer conclusion appeared to be,
+that she was deeply interested in some absent (and possibly lost) young
+creature; whose age, judging by actions and tones which had sufficiently
+revealed that part of the secret to me, could not be more than sixteen
+or seventeen years. How long had she cherished the hope of seeing the
+girl, or hearing of her? It must have been, anyhow, a hope very deeply
+rooted, for she had been perfectly incapable of controlling herself
+when I had accidentally roused it. As for her husband, there could be
+no doubt that the subject was not merely distasteful to him, but so
+absolutely infuriating that he could not even keep his temper, in the
+presence of a third person invited to his house. Had he injured the girl
+in any way? Was he responsible for her disappearance? Did his wife know
+it, or only suspect it? Who _was_ the girl? What was the secret of Mrs.
+Farnaby’s extraordinary interest in her--Mrs. Farnaby, whose marriage
+was childless; whose interest one would have thought should be naturally
+concentrated on her adopted daughter, her sister’s orphan child? In
+conjectures such as these, I completely lost myself. Let me hear
+what your ingenuity can make of the puzzle; and let me return to Mr.
+Farnaby’s dinner, waiting on Mr. Farnaby’s table.
+
+The servant threw open the drawing-room door, and the most honoured
+guest present led Mrs. Farnaby to the dining-room. I roused myself
+to some observation of what was going on about me. No ladies had been
+invited; and the men were all of a certain age. I looked in vain for the
+charming niece. Was she not well enough to appear at the dinner-party? I
+ventured on putting the question to Mr. Farnaby.
+
+“You will find her at the tea-table, when we return to the drawing-room.
+Girls are out of place at dinner-parties.” So he answered me--not very
+graciously.
+
+As I stepped out on the landing, I looked up; I don’t know why, unless
+I was the unconscious object of magnetic attraction. Anyhow, I had
+my reward. A bright young face peeped over the balusters of the upper
+staircase, and modestly withdrew itself again in a violent hurry.
+Everybody but Mr. Farnaby and myself had disappeared in the dining-room.
+Was she having a peep at the young Socialist?
+
+
+Another interruption to my letter, caused by another change in the
+weather. The fog has vanished; the waiter is turning off the gas, and
+letting in the drab-coloured daylight. I ask him if it is still raining.
+He smiles, and rubs his hands, and says, “It looks like clearing up
+soon, sir.” This man’s head is gray; he has been all his life a waiter
+in London--and he can still see the cheerful side of things. What native
+strength of mind cast away on a vocation that is unworthy of it!
+
+Well--and now about the Farnaby dinner. I feel a tightness in the lower
+part of my waistcoat, Rufus, when I think of the dinner; there was
+such a quantity of it, and Mr. Farnaby was so tyrannically resolute in
+forcing his luxuries down the throats of his guests. His eye was on me,
+if I let my plate go away before it was empty--his eye said “I have paid
+for this magnificent dinner, and I mean to see you eat it.” Our printed
+list of the dishes, as they succeeded each other, also informed us of
+the varieties of wine which it was imperatively necessary to drink with
+each dish. I got into difficulties early in the proceedings. The taste
+of sherry, for instance, is absolutely nauseous to me; and Rhine wine
+turns into vinegar ten minutes after it has passed my lips. I asked for
+the wine that I could drink, out of its turn. You should have seen Mr.
+Farnaby’s face, when I violated the rules of his dinner-table! It was
+the one amusing incident of the feast--the one thing that alleviated the
+dreary and mysterious spectacle of Mrs. Farnaby. There she sat, with her
+mind hundreds of miles away from everything that was going on about
+her, entangling the two guests, on her right hand and on her left, in a
+network of vacant questions, just as she had entangled me. I discovered
+that one of these gentlemen was a barrister and the other a ship-owner,
+by the answers which Mrs. Farnaby absently extracted from them on the
+subject of their respective vocations in life. And while she questioned
+incessantly, she ate incessantly. Her vigorous body insisted on being
+fed. She would have emptied her wineglass (I suspect) as readily as
+she plied her knife and fork--but I discovered that a certain system
+of restraint was established in the matter of wine. At intervals, Mr.
+Farnaby just looked at the butler--and the butler and his bottle, on
+those occasions, deliberately passed her by. Not the slightest visible
+change was produced in her by the eating and drinking; she was equal to
+any demands that any dinner could make on her. There was no flush in her
+face, no change in her spirits, when she rose, in obedience to English
+custom, and retired to the drawing-room.
+
+Left together over their wine, the men began to talk politics.
+
+I listened at the outset, expecting to get some information. Our
+readings in modern history at Tadmor had informed us of the dominant
+political position of the middle classes in England, since the time of
+the first Reform Bill. Mr. Farnaby’s guests represented the respectable
+mediocrity of social position, the professional and commercial average
+of the nation. They all talked glibly enough--I and an old gentleman who
+sat next to me being the only listeners. I had spent the morning lazily
+in the smoking-room of the hotel, reading the day’s newspapers. And
+what did I hear now, when the politicians set in for their discussion? I
+heard the leading articles of the day’s newspapers translated into bald
+chat, and coolly addressed by one man to another, as if they were his
+own individual views on public affairs! This absurd imposture positively
+went the round of the table, received and respected by everybody with a
+stolid solemnity of make-believe which it was downright shameful to
+see. Not a man present said, “I saw that today in the _Times_ or the
+_Telegraph.”_ Not a man present had an opinion of his own; or, if he
+had an opinion, ventured to express it; or, if he knew nothing of the
+subject, was honest enough to say so. One enormous Sham, and everybody
+in a conspiracy to take it for the real thing: that is an accurate
+description of the state of political feeling among the representative
+men at Mr. Farnaby’s dinner. I am not judging rashly by one example
+only; I have been taken to clubs and public festivals, only to hear over
+and over again what I heard in Mr. Farnaby’s dining-room. Does it need
+any great foresight to see that such a state of things as this cannot
+last much longer, in a country which has not done with reforming itself
+yet? The time is coming, in England, when the people who _have_ opinions
+of their own will be heard, and when Parliament will be forced to open
+the door to them.
+
+This is a nice outbreak of republican freedom! What does my
+long-suffering friend think of it--waiting all the time to be presented
+to Mr. Farnaby’s niece? Everything in its place, Rufus. The niece
+followed the politics, at the time; and she shall follow them now.
+
+You shall hear first what my next neighbour said of her--a quaint old
+fellow, a retired doctor, if I remember correctly. He seemed to be as
+weary of the second-hand newspaper talk as I was; he quite sparkled
+and cheered up when I introduced the subject of Miss Regina. Have I
+mentioned her name yet? If not, here it is for you in full:--Miss Regina
+Mildmay.
+
+“I call her the brown girl,” said the old gentleman. “Brown hair, brown
+eyes, and a brown skin. No, not a brunette; not dark enough for that--a
+warm, delicate brown; wait till you see it! Takes after her father, I
+should tell you. He was a fine-looking man in his time; foreign blood
+in his veins, by his mother’s side. Miss Regina gets her queer name by
+being christened after his mother. Never mind her name; she’s a charming
+person. Let’s drink her health.”
+
+We drank her health. Remembering that he had called her “the brown
+girl,” I said I supposed she was still quite young.
+
+“Better than young,” the doctor answered; “in the prime of life. I call
+her a girl, by habit. Wait till you see her!”
+
+“Has she a good figure, sir?”
+
+“Ha! you’re like the Turks, are you? A nice-looking woman doesn’t
+content you--you must have her well-made too. We can accommodate you,
+sir; we are slim and tall, with a swing of our hips, and we walk like
+a goddess. Wait and see how her head is put on her shoulders--I say
+no more. Proud? Not she! A simple, unaffected, kind-hearted creature.
+Always the same; I never saw her out of temper in my life; I never
+heard her speak ill of anybody. The man who gets her will be a man to be
+envied, I can tell you!”
+
+“Is she engaged to be married?”
+
+“No. She has had plenty of offers; but she doesn’t seem to care for
+anything of that sort--so far. Devotes herself to Mrs. Farnaby, and
+keeps up her school-friendships. A splendid creature, with the vital
+thermometer at temperate heart--a calm, meditative, equable person. Pass
+me the olives. Only think! the man who discovered olives is unknown;
+no statue of him erected in any part of the civilized earth. I know few
+more remarkable instances of human ingratitude.”
+
+I risked a bold question--but not on the subject of olives. “Isn’t Miss
+Regina’s life rather a dull one in this house?”
+
+The doctor cautiously lowered his voice. “It would be dull enough to
+some women. Regina’s early life has been a hard one. Her mother was Mr.
+Ronald’s eldest daughter. The old brute never forgave her for marrying
+against his wishes. Mrs. Ronald did all she could, secretly, to help the
+young wife in disgrace. But old Ronald had sole command of the money,
+and kept it to himself. From Regina’s earliest childhood there was
+always distress at home. Her father harassed by creditors, trying one
+scheme after another, and failing in all; her mother and herself, half
+starved--with their very bedclothes sometimes at the pawnbrokers. I
+attended them in their illnesses, and though they hid their wretchedness
+from everybody else (proud as Lucifer, both of them!), they couldn’t
+hide it from me. Fancy the change to this house! I don’t say that living
+here in clover is enough for such a person as Regina; I only say it
+has its influence. She is one of those young women, sir, who delight in
+sacrificing themselves to others--she is devoted, for instance, to Mrs.
+Farnaby. I only hope Mrs. Farnaby is worthy of it! Not that it
+matters to Regina. What she does, she does out of her own sweetness of
+disposition. She brightens this household, I can tell you! Farnaby did
+a wise thing, in his own domestic interests, when he adopted her as his
+daughter. She thinks she can never be grateful enough to him--the good
+creature!--though she has repaid him a hundredfold. He’ll find that out,
+one of these days, when a husband takes her away. Don’t suppose that
+I want to disparage our host--he’s an old friend of mine; but he’s a
+little too apt to take the good things that fall to his lot as if they
+were nothing but a just recognition of his own merits. I have told him
+that to his face, often enough to have a right to say it of him when he
+doesn’t hear me. Do you smoke? I wish they would drop their politics,
+and take to tobacco. I say Farnaby! I want a cigar.”
+
+This broad hint produced an adjournment to the smoking-room, the doctor
+leading the way. I began to wonder how much longer my introduction to
+Miss Regina was to be delayed. It was not to come until I had seen a new
+side of my host’s character, and had found myself promoted to a place of
+my own in Mr. Farnaby’s estimation.
+
+As we rose from table one of the guests spoke to me of a visit that he
+had recently paid to the part of Buckinghamshire which I come from. “I
+was shown a remarkably picturesque old house on the heath,” he said.
+“They told me it had been inhabited for centuries by the family of the
+Goldenhearts. Are you in any way related to them?” I answered that I
+was very nearly related, having been born in the house--and there, as
+I suppose, the matter ended. Being the youngest man of the party, I
+waited, of course, until the rest of the gentlemen had passed out to the
+smoking-room. Mr. Farnaby and I were left together. To my astonishment,
+he put his arm cordially into mine, and led me out of the dining-room
+with the genial familiarity of an old friend!
+
+“I’ll give you such a cigar,” he said, “as you can’t buy for money in
+all London. You have enjoyed yourself, I hope? Now we know what wine
+you like, you won’t have to ask the butler for it next time. Drop in any
+day, and take pot-luck with us.” He came to a standstill in the hall;
+his brassy rasping voice assumed a new tone--a sort of parody of
+respect. “Have you been to your family place,” he asked, “since your
+return to England?”
+
+He had evidently heard the few words exchanged between his friend
+and myself. It seemed odd that he should take any interest in a place
+belonging to people who were strangers to him. However, his question was
+easily answered. I had only to inform him that my father had sold the
+house when he left England.
+
+“Oh dear, I’m sorry to hear that!” he said. “Those old family places
+ought to be kept up. The greatness of England, sir, strikes its roots in
+the old families of England. They may be rich, or they may be poor--that
+don’t matter. An old family _is_ an old family; it’s sad to see their
+hearths and homes sold to wealthy manufacturers who don’t know who their
+own grandfathers were. Would you allow me to ask what is the family
+motto of the Goldenhearts?”
+
+Shall I own the truth? The bottles circulated freely at Mr. Farnaby’s
+table--I began to wonder whether he was quite sober. I said I was sorry
+to disappoint him, but I really did not know what my family motto was.
+
+He was unaffectedly shocked. “I think I saw a ring on your finger,” he
+said, as soon as he recovered himself. He lifted my left hand in his own
+cold-fishy paw. The one ring I wear is of plain gold; it belonged to my
+father and it has his initials inscribed on the signet.
+
+“Good gracious, you haven’t got your coat-of-arms on your seal!” cried
+Mr. Farnaby. “My dear sir, I am old enough to be your father, and I must
+take the freedom of remonstrating with you. Your coat-of-arms and your
+motto are no doubt at the Heralds’ Office--why don’t you apply for them?
+Shall I go there for you? I will do it with pleasure. You shouldn’t be
+careless about these things--you shouldn’t indeed.”
+
+I listened in speechless astonishment. Was he ironically expressing his
+contempt for old families? We got into the smoking-room at last; and my
+friend the doctor enlightened me privately in a corner. Every word Mr.
+Farnaby had said had been spoken in earnest. This man, who owes his rise
+from the lowest social position entirely to himself--who, judging by
+his own experience, has every reason to despise the poor pride of
+ancestry--actually feels a sincerely servile admiration for the accident
+of birth! “Oh, poor human nature!” as Somebody says. How cordially I
+agree with Somebody!
+
+We went up to the drawing-room; and I was introduced to “the brown girl”
+ at last. What impression did she produce on me?
+
+Do you know, Rufus, there is some perverse reluctance in me to go on
+with this inordinately long letter just when I have arrived at the most
+interesting part of it. I can’t account for my own state of mind; I only
+know that it is so. The difficulty of describing the young lady doesn’t
+perplex me like the difficulty of describing Mrs. Farnaby. I can see her
+now, as vividly as if she was present in the room. I even remember (and
+this is astonishing in a man) the dress that she wore. And yet I shrink
+from writing about her, as if there was something wrong in it. Do me a
+kindness, good friend, and let me send off all these sheets of paper,
+the idle work of an idle morning, just as they are. When I write next,
+I promise to be ashamed of my own capricious state of mind, and to paint
+the portrait of Miss Regina at full length.
+
+In the mean while, don’t run away with the idea that she has made a
+disagreeable impression upon me. Good heavens! it is far from that.
+You have had the old doctor’s opinion of her. Very well. Multiply this
+opinion by ten--and you have mine.
+
+
+[NOTE:--A strange indorsement appears on this letter, dated several
+months after the period at which it was received:--_“Ah, poor Amelius!
+He had better have gone back to Miss Mellicent, and put up with the
+little drawback of her age. What a bright, lovable fellow he was!
+Goodbye to Goldenheart!”_
+
+These lines are not signed. They are known, however, to be in the
+handwriting of Rufus Dingwell.]
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 2
+
+I particularly want you to come and lunch with us, dearest Cecilia, the
+day after tomorrow. Don’t say to yourself, “The Farnaby’s house is dull,
+and Regina is too slow for me,” and don’t think about the long drive for
+the horses, from your place to London. This letter has an interest of
+its own, my dear--I have got something new for you. What do you think
+of a young man, who is clever and handsome and agreeable--and, wonder
+of wonders, quite unlike any other young Englishman you ever saw in your
+life? You are to meet him at luncheon; and you are to get used to his
+strange name beforehand. For which purpose I enclose his card.
+
+He made his first appearance at our house, at dinner yesterday evening.
+
+When he was presented to me at the tea-table, he was not to be put
+off with a bow--he insisted on shaking hands. “Where I have been,” he
+explained, “we help a first introduction with a little cordiality.” He
+looked into his tea-cup, after he said that, with the air of a man who
+could say something more, if he had a little encouragement. Of course,
+I encouraged him. “I suppose shaking hands is much the same form in
+America that bowing is in England?” I said, as suggestively as I could.
+
+He looked up directly, and shook his head. “We have too many forms in
+this country,” he said. “The virtue of hospitality, for instance, seems
+to have become a form in England. In America, when a new acquaintance
+says, ‘Come and see me,’ he means it. When he says it here, in nine
+cases out of ten he looks unaffectedly astonished if you are fool enough
+to take him at his word. I hate insincerity, Miss Regina--and now I have
+returned to my own country, I find insincerity one of the established
+institutions of English Society. ‘Can we do anything for you?’ Ask them
+to do something for you--and you will see what it means. ‘Thank you for
+such a pleasant evening!’ Get into the carriage with them when they
+go home--and you will find that it means, ‘What a bore!’ ‘Ah, Mr.
+So-and-so, allow me to congratulate you on your new appointment.’
+Mr. So-and-so passes out of hearing--and you discover what the
+congratulations mean. ‘Corrupt old brute! he has got the price of his
+vote at the last division.’ ‘Oh, Mr. Blank, what a charming book you
+have written!’ Mr. Blank passes out of hearing--and you ask what his
+book is about. ‘To tell you the truth, I haven’t read it. Hush! he’s
+received at Court; one must say these things.’ The other day a friend
+took me to a grand dinner at the Lord Mayor’s. I accompanied him first
+to his club; many distinguished guests met there before going to the
+dinner. Heavens, how they spoke of the Lord Mayor! One of them didn’t
+know his name, and didn’t want to know it; another wasn’t certain
+whether he was a tallow-chandler or a button-maker; a third, who had met
+with him somewhere, described him as a damned ass; a fourth said, ‘Oh,
+don’t be hard on him; he’s only a vulgar old Cockney, without an _h_ in
+his whole composition.’ A chorus of general agreement followed, as the
+dinner-hour approached: ‘What a bore!’ I whispered to my friend, ‘Why
+do they go?’ He answered, ‘You see, one must do this sort of thing.’
+And when we got to the Mansion House, they did that sort of thing with
+a vengeance! When the speech-making set in, these very men who had been
+all expressing their profound contempt for the Lord Mayor behind his
+back, now flattered him to his face in such a shamelessly servile way,
+with such a meanly complete insensibility to their own baseness, that
+I did really and literally turn sick. I slipped out into the fresh air,
+and fumigated myself, after the company I had kept, with a cigar. No,
+no! it’s useless to excuse these things (I could quote dozens of other
+instances that have come under my own observation) by saying that they
+are trifles. When trifles make themselves habits of yours or of mine,
+they become a part of your character or mine. We have an inveterately
+false and vicious system of society in England. If you want to trace
+one of the causes, look back to the little organized insincerities of
+English life.”
+
+Of course you understand, Cecilia, that this was not all said at one
+burst, as I have written it here. Some of it came out in the way of
+answers to my inquiries, and some of it was spoken in the intervals of
+laughing, talking, and tea-drinking. But I want to show you how very
+different this young man is from the young men whom we are in the habit
+of meeting, and so I huddle his talk together in one sample, as Papa
+Farnaby would call it.
+
+My dear, he is decidedly handsome (I mean our delightful Amelius); his
+face has a bright, eager look, indescribably refreshing as a contrast
+to the stolid composure of the ordinary young Englishman. His smile is
+charming; he moves as gracefully--with as little self-consciousness--as
+my Italian greyhound. He has been brought up among the strangest people
+in America; and (would you believe it?) he is actually a Socialist.
+Don’t be alarmed. He shocked us all dreadfully by declaring that his
+Socialism was entirely learnt out of the New Testament. I have looked at
+the New Testament, since he mentioned some of his principles to me; and,
+do you know, I declare it is true!
+
+Oh, I forgot--the young Socialist plays and sings! When we asked him
+to go to the piano, he got up and began directly. “I don’t do it well
+enough,” he said, “to want a great deal of pressing.” He sang old
+English songs, with great taste and sweetness. One of the gentlemen of
+our party, evidently disliking him, spoke rather rudely, I thought.
+“A Socialist who sings and plays,” he said, “is a harmless Socialist
+indeed. I begin to feel that my balance is safe at my banker’s, and
+that London won’t be set on fire with petroleum this time.” He got his
+answer, I can tell you. “Why should we set London on fire? London takes
+a regular percentage of your income from you, sir, whether you like it
+or not, on sound Socialist principles. You are the man who has got the
+money, and Socialism says:--You must and shall help the man who has got
+none. That is exactly what your own Poor Law says to you, every time the
+collector leaves the paper at your house.” Wasn’t it clever?--and it was
+doubly severe, because it was good-humouredly said.
+
+Between ourselves, Cecilia, I think he is struck with me. When I walked
+about the room, his bright eyes followed me everywhere. And, when I took
+a chair by somebody else, not feeling it quite right to keep him all to
+myself, he invariably contrived to find a seat on the other side of me.
+His voice, too, had a certain tone, addressed to me, and to no other
+person in the room. Judge for yourself when you come here; but don’t
+jump to conclusions, if you please. Oh no--I am not going to fall in
+love with him! It isn’t in me to fall in love with anybody. Do you
+remember what the last man whom I refused said of me? “She has a machine
+on the left side of her that pumps blood through her body, but she has
+no heart.” I pity the woman who marries _that_ man!
+
+One thing more, my dear. This curious Amelius seems to notice trifles
+which escape men in general, just as _we_ do. Towards the close of the
+evening, poor Mamma Farnaby fell into one of her vacant states; half
+asleep and half awake on the sofa in the back drawing-room. “Your aunt
+interests me,” he whispered. “She must have suffered some terrible
+sorrow, at some past time in her life.” Fancy a man seeing that! He
+dropped some hints, which showed that he was puzzling his brains to
+discover how I got on with her, and whether I was in her confidence or
+not: he even went the length of asking what sort of life I led with the
+uncle and aunt who have adopted me. My dear, it was done so delicately,
+with such irresistible sympathy and such a charming air of respect,
+that I was quite startled when I remembered, in the wakeful hours of
+the night, how freely I had spoken to him. Not that I have betrayed any
+secrets; for, as you know, I am as ignorant as everybody else of what
+the early troubles of my poor dear aunt may have been. But I did tell
+him how I came into the house a helpless little orphan girl; and how
+generously these two good relatives adopted me; and how happy it made
+me to find that I could really do something to cheer their sad childless
+lives. “I wish I was half as good as you are,” he said. “I can’t
+understand how you became fond of Mrs. Farnaby. Perhaps it began in
+sympathy and compassion?” Just think of that, from a young Englishman!
+He went on confessing his perplexities, as if we had known one another
+from childhood. “I am a little surprised to see Mrs. Farnaby present at
+parties of this sort; I should have thought she would have stayed in her
+own room.” “That’s just what she objects to do,” I answered; “She says
+people will report that her husband is ashamed of her, or that she is
+not fit to be seen in society, if she doesn’t appear at the parties--and
+she is determined not to be misrepresented in that way.” Can you
+understand my talking to him with so little reserve? It is a specimen,
+Cecilia, of the odd manner in which my impulses carry me away, in this
+man’s company. He is so nice and gentle--and yet so manly. I shall be
+curious to see if you can resist him, with your superior firmness and
+knowledge of the world.
+
+But the strangest incident of all I have not told you yet--feeling some
+hesitation about the best way of describing it, so as to interest you in
+what has deeply interested me. I must tell it as plainly as I can, and
+leave it to speak for itself.
+
+Who do you think has invited Amelius Goldenheart to luncheon? Not Papa
+Farnaby, who only invites him to dinner. Not I, it is needless to say.
+Who is it, then? Mamma Farnaby herself. He has actually so interested
+her that she has been thinking of him, and dreaming of him, in his
+absence!
+
+I heard her last night, poor thing, talking and grinding her teeth in
+her sleep; and I went into her room to try if I could quiet her, in
+the usual way, by putting my cool hand on her forehead, and pressing it
+gently. (The old doctor says it’s magnetism, which is ridiculous.) Well,
+it didn’t succeed this time; she went on muttering, and making that
+dreadful sound with her teeth. Occasionally a word was spoken clearly
+enough to be intelligible. I could make no connected sense of what I
+heard; but I could positively discover this--that she was dreaming of
+our guest from America!
+
+I said nothing about it, of course, when I went upstairs with her cup of
+tea this morning. What do you think was the first thing she asked
+for? Pen, ink, and paper. Her next request was that I would write Mr.
+Goldenheart’s address on an envelope. “Are you going to write to him?”
+ I asked. “Yes,” she said, “I want to speak to him, while John is out of
+the way at business,” “Secrets?” I said, turning it off with a laugh.
+She answered, speaking gravely and earnestly. “Yes; secrets.” The letter
+was written, and sent to his hotel, inviting him to lunch with us on
+the first day when he was disengaged. He has replied, appointing the day
+after tomorrow. By way of trying to penetrate the mystery, I inquired
+if she wished me to appear at the luncheon. She considered with herself,
+before she answered that. “I want him to be amused, and put in a good
+humour,” she said, “before I speak to him. You must lunch with us--and
+ask Cecilia.” She stopped, and considered once more. “Mind one thing,”
+ she went on. “Your uncle is to know nothing about it. If you tell him, I
+will never speak to you again.”
+
+Is this not extraordinary? Whatever her dream may have been, it has
+evidently produced a strong impression on her. I firmly believe she
+means to take him away with her to her own room, when the luncheon is
+over. Dearest Cecilia, you must help me to stop this! I have never been
+trusted with her secrets; they may, for all I know, be innocent secrets
+enough, poor soul! But it is surely in the highest degree undesirable
+that she should take into her confidence a young man who is only an
+acquaintance of ours: she will either make herself ridiculous, or do
+something worse. If Mr. Farnaby finds it out, I really tremble for what
+may happen.
+
+For the sake of old friendship, don’t leave me to face this difficulty
+by myself. A line, only one line, dearest, to say that you will not fail
+me.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK THE THIRD. MRS. FARNABY’S FOOT
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 1
+
+It is an afternoon concert; and modern German music was largely
+represented on the programme. The patient English people sat in
+closely-packed rows, listening to the pretentious instrumental noises
+which were impudently offered to them as a substitute for melody. While
+these docile victims of the worst of all quackeries (musical quackery)
+were still toiling through their first hour of endurance, a passing
+ripple of interest stirred the stagnant surface of the audience caused
+by the sudden rising of a lady overcome by the heat. She was quickly led
+out of the concert-room (after whispering a word of explanation to two
+young ladies seated at her side) by a gentleman who made a fourth member
+of the party. Left by themselves, the young ladies looked at each other,
+whispered to each other, half rose from their places, became confusedly
+conscious that the wandering attention of the audience was fixed on
+them, and decided at last on following their companions out of the hall.
+
+But the lady who had preceded them had some reason of her own for not
+waiting to recover herself in the vestibule. When the gentleman in
+charge of her asked if he should get a glass of water, she answered
+sharply, “Get a cab--and be quick about it.”
+
+The cab was found in a moment; the gentleman got in after her, by the
+lady’s invitation. “Are you better now?” he asked.
+
+“I have never had anything the matter with me,” she replied, quietly;
+“tell the man to drive faster.”
+
+Having obeyed his instructions, the gentleman (otherwise Amelius) began
+to look a little puzzled. The lady (Mrs. Farnaby herself) perceived his
+condition of mind, and favoured him with an explanation.
+
+“I had my own motive for asking you to luncheon today,” she began,
+in that steady downright way of speaking that was peculiar to her. “I
+wanted to have a word with you privately. My niece Regina--don’t be
+surprised at my calling her my niece, when you have heard Mr. Farnaby
+call her his daughter. She _is_ my niece. Adopting her is a mere phrase.
+It doesn’t alter facts; it doesn’t make her Mr. Farnaby’s child or mine,
+does it?”
+
+She had ended with a question, but she seemed to want no answer to it.
+Her face was turned towards the cab-window, instead of towards Amelius.
+He was one of those rare people who are capable of remaining silent when
+they have nothing to say. Mrs. Farnaby went on.
+
+“My niece Regina is a good creature in her way; but she suspects people.
+She has some reason of her own for trying to prevent me from taking you
+into my confidence; and her friend Cecilia is helping her. Yes, yes; the
+concert was the obstacle which they had arranged to put in my way. You
+were obliged to go, after telling them you wanted to hear the music; and
+I couldn’t complain, because they had got a fourth ticket for me. I made
+up my mind what to do; and I have done it. Nothing wonderful in my being
+taken ill with the heat; nothing wonderful in your doing your duty as a
+gentleman and looking after me--and what is the consequence? Here we are
+together, on our way to my room, in spite of them. Not so bad for a poor
+helpless creature like me, is it?”
+
+Inwardly wondering what it all meant, and what she could possibly
+want with him, Amelius suggested that the young ladies might leave the
+concert-room, and, not finding them in the vestibule, might follow them
+back to the house.
+
+Mrs. Farnaby turned her head from the window, and looked him in the face
+for the first time. “I have been a match for them so far,” she said;
+“leave it to me, and you will find I can be a match for them still.”
+
+After saying this, she watched the puzzled face of Amelius with a
+moment’s steady scrutiny. Her full lips relaxed into a faint smile; her
+head sank slowly on her bosom. “I wonder whether he thinks I am a little
+crazy?” she said quietly to herself. “Some women in my place would have
+gone mad years ago. Perhaps it might have been better for _me?”_ She
+looked up again at Amelius. “I believe you are a good-tempered fellow,”
+ she went on. “Are you in your usual temper now? Did you enjoy your
+lunch? Has the lively company of the young ladies put you in a good
+humour with women generally? I want you to be in a particularly good
+humour with me.”
+
+She spoke quite gravely. Amelius, a little to his own astonishment,
+found himself answering gravely on his side; assuring her, in the most
+conventional terms, that he was entirely at her service. Something in
+her manner affected him disagreeably. If he had followed his impulse, he
+would have jumped out of the cab, and have recovered his liberty and his
+light-heartedness at one and the same moment, by running away at the top
+of his speed.
+
+The driver turned into the street in which Mr. Farnaby’s house was
+situated. Mrs. Farnaby stopped him, and got out at some little distance
+from the door. “You think the young ones will follow us back,” she said
+to Amelius. “It doesn’t matter, the servants will have nothing to tell
+them if they do.” She checked him in the act of knocking, when they
+reached the house door. “It’s tea-time downstairs,” she whispered,
+looking at her watch. “You and I are going into the house, without
+letting the servants know anything about it. _Now_ do you understand?”
+
+She produced from her pocket a steel ring, with several keys attached to
+it. “A duplicate of Mr. Farnaby’s key,” she explained, as she chose one,
+and opened the street door. “Sometimes, when I find myself waking in
+the small hours of the morning, I can’t endure my bed; I must go out
+and walk. My key lets me in again, just as it lets us in now, without
+disturbing anybody. You had better say nothing about it to Mr. Farnaby.
+Not that it matters much; for I should refuse to give up my key if he
+asked me. But you’re a good-natured fellow--and you don’t want to make
+bad blood between man and wife, do you? Step softly, and follow me.”
+
+Amelius hesitated. There was something repellent to him in entering
+another man’s house under these clandestine conditions. “All right!”
+ whispered Mrs. Farnaby, perfectly understanding him. “Consult your
+dignity; go out again, and knock at the door, and ask if I am at home.
+I only wanted to prevent a fuss and an interruption when Regina comes
+back. If the servants don’t know we are here, they will tell her we
+haven’t returned--don’t you see?”
+
+It would have been absurd to contest the matter, after this. Amelius
+followed her submissively to the farther end of the hall. There, she
+opened the door of a long narrow room, built out at the back of the
+house.
+
+“This is my den,” she said, signing to Amelius to pass in. “While we are
+here, nobody will disturb us.” She laid aside her bonnet and shawl, and
+pointed to a box of cigars on the table. “Take one,” she resumed. “I
+smoke too, when nobody sees me. That’s one of the reasons, I dare say,
+why Regina wished to keep you out of my room. I find smoking composes
+me. What do _you_ say?”
+
+She lit a cigar, and handed the matches to Amelius. Finding that
+he stood fairly committed to the adventure, he resigned himself to
+circumstances with his customary facility. He too lit a cigar, and took
+a chair by the fire, and looked about him with an impenetrable composure
+worthy of Rufus Dingwell himself.
+
+The room bore no sort of resemblance to a boudoir. A faded old turkey
+carpet was spread on the floor. The common mahogany table had no
+covering; the chintz on the chairs was of a truly venerable age. Some
+of the furniture made the place look like a room occupied by a man.
+Dumb-bells and clubs of the sort used in athletic exercises hung over
+the bare mantelpiece; a large ugly oaken structure with closed doors,
+something between a cabinet and a wardrobe, rose on one side to the
+ceiling; a turning lathe stood against the opposite wall. Above the
+lathe were hung in a row four prints, in dingy old frames of black wood,
+which especially attracted the attention of Amelius. Mostly foreign
+prints, they were all discoloured by time, and they all strangely
+represented different aspects of the same subject--infants parted from
+their parents by desertion or robbery. The young Moses was there, in
+his ark of bulrushes, on the river bank. Good St. Francis appeared next,
+roaming the streets, and rescuing forsaken children in the wintry night.
+A third print showed the foundling hospital of old Paris, with the
+turning cage in the wall, and the bell to ring when the infant was
+placed in it. The next and last subject was the stealing of a child from
+the lap of its slumbering nurse by a gipsy woman. These sadly suggestive
+subjects were the only ornaments on the walls. No traces of books or
+music were visible; no needlework of any sort was to be seen; no
+elegant trifles; no china or flowers or delicate lacework or sparkling
+jewelry--nothing, absolutely nothing, suggestive of a woman’s presence
+appeared in any part of Mrs. Farnaby’s room.
+
+“I have got several things to say to you,” she began; “but one thing
+must be settled first. Give me your sacred word of honour that you will
+not repeat to any mortal creature what I am going to tell you now.” She
+reclined in her chair, and drew in a mouthful of smoke and puffed it out
+again, and waited for his reply.
+
+Young and unsuspicious as he was, this unscrupulous method of taking his
+confidence by storm startled Amelius. His natural tact and good sense
+told him plainly that Mrs. Farnaby was asking too much.
+
+“Don’t be angry with me, ma’am,” he said; “I must remind you that you
+are going to tell me your secrets, without any wish to intrude on them
+on my part--”
+
+She interrupted him there. “What does that matter?” she asked coolly.
+
+Amelius was obstinate; he went on with what he had to say. “I should
+like to know,” he proceeded, “that I am doing no wrong to anybody,
+before I give you my promise?”
+
+“You will be doing a kindness to a miserable creature,” she answered,
+as quietly as ever; “and you will be doing no wrong to yourself or to
+anybody else, if you promise. That is all I can say. Your cigar is out.
+Take a light.”
+
+Amelius took a light, with the dog-like docility of a man in a state of
+blank amazement. She waited, watching him composedly until his cigar was
+in working order again.
+
+“Well?” she asked. “Will you promise now?”
+
+Amelius gave her his promise.
+
+“On your sacred word of honour?” she persisted.
+
+Amelius repeated the formula. She reclined in her chair once more.
+“I want to speak to you as if I was speaking to an old friend,” she
+explained. “I suppose I may call you Amelius?”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“Well, Amelius, I must tell you first that I committed a sin, many long
+years ago. I have suffered the punishment; I am suffering it still. Ever
+since I was a young woman, I have had a heavy burden of misery on my
+heart. I am not reconciled to it, I cannot submit to it, yet. I never
+shall be reconciled to it, I never shall submit to it, if I live to be
+a hundred. Do you wish me to enter into particulars? or will you have
+mercy on me, and be satisfied with what I have told you so far?”
+
+It was not said entreatingly, or tenderly, or humbly: she spoke with
+a savage self-contained resignation in her manner and in her voice.
+Amelius forgot his cigar again--and again she reminded him of it. He
+answered her as his own generous impulsive temperament urged him; he
+said, “Tell me nothing that causes you a moment’s pain; tell me only
+how I can help you.” She handed him the box of matches; she said, “Your
+cigar is out again.”
+
+He laid down his cigar. In his brief span of life he had seen no human
+misery that expressed itself in this way. “Excuse me,” he answered; “I
+won’t smoke just now.”
+
+She laid her cigar aside like Amelius, and crossed her arms over her
+bosom, and looked at him, with the first softening gleam of tenderness
+that he had seen in her face. “My friend,” she said, “yours will be
+a sad life--I pity you. The world will wound that sensitive heart of
+yours; the world will trample on that generous nature. One of these
+days, perhaps, you will be a wretch like me. No more of that. Get up; I
+have something to show you.”
+
+Rising herself, she led the way to the large oaken press, and took her
+bunch of keys out of her pocket again.
+
+“About this old sorrow of mine,” she resumed. “Do me justice, Amelius,
+at the outset. I haven’t treated it as some women treat their sorrows--I
+haven’t nursed it and petted it and made the most of it to myself and to
+others. No! I have tried every means of relief, every possible pursuit
+that could occupy my mind. One example of what I say will do as well as
+a hundred. See it for yourself.”
+
+She put the key in the lock. It resisted her first efforts to open it.
+With a contemptuous burst of impatience and a sudden exertion of her
+rare strength, she tore open the two doors of the press. Behind the door
+on the left appeared a row of open shelves. The opposite compartment,
+behind the door on the right, was filled by drawers with brass handles.
+She shut the left door; angrily banging it to, as if the opening of it
+had disclosed something which she did not wish to be seen. By the merest
+chance, Amelius had looked that way first. In the one instant in which
+it was possible to see anything, he had noticed, carefully laid out on
+one of the shelves, a baby’s long linen frock and cap, turned yellow by
+the lapse of time.
+
+The half-told story of the past was more than half told now. The
+treasured relics of the infant threw their little glimmer of light on
+the motive which had chosen the subjects of the prints on the wall.
+A child deserted and lost! A child who, by bare possibility, might be
+living still!
+
+She turned towards Amelius suddenly, “There is nothing to interest you
+on _that_ side,” she said. “Look at the drawers here; open them for
+yourself.” She drew back as she spoke, and pointed to the uppermost of
+the row of drawers. A narrow slip of paper was pasted on it, bearing
+this inscription:--_“Dead Consolations.”_
+
+Amelius opened the drawer; it was full of books. “Look at them,”
+ she said. Amelius, obeying her, discovered dictionaries, grammars,
+exercises, poems, novels, and histories--all in the German language.
+
+“A foreign language tried as a relief,” said Mrs. Farnaby, speaking
+quietly behind him. “Month after month of hard study--all forgotten now.
+The old sorrow came back in spite of it. A dead consolation! Open the
+next drawer.”
+
+The next drawer revealed water-colours and drawing materials huddled
+together in a corner, and a heap of poor little conventional landscapes
+filling up the rest of the space. As works of art, they were wretched
+in the last degree; monuments of industry and application miserably and
+completely thrown away.
+
+“I had no talent for that pursuit, as you see,” said Mrs. Farnaby. “But
+I persevered with it, week after week, month after month. I thought to
+myself, ‘I hate it so, it costs me such dreadful trouble, it so worries
+and persecutes and humiliates me, that _this_ surely must keep my mind
+occupied and my thoughts away from myself!’ No; the old sorrow stared me
+in the face again on the paper that I was spoiling, through the colours
+that I couldn’t learn to use. Another dead consolation! Shut it up.”
+
+She herself opened a third and a fourth drawer. In one there appeared
+a copy of Euclid, and a slate with the problems still traced on it; the
+other contained a microscope, and the treatises relating to its use.
+“Always the same effort,” she said, shutting the door of the press as
+she spoke; “and always the same result. You have had enough of it, and
+so have I.” She turned, and pointed to the lathe in the corner, and to
+the clubs and dumb-bells over the mantelpiece. “I can look at _them_
+patiently,” she went on; “they give me bodily relief. I work at the
+lathe till my back aches; I swing the clubs till I’m ready to drop with
+fatigue. And then I lie down on the rug there, and sleep it off, and
+forget myself for an hour or two. Come back to the fire again. You have
+seen my dead consolations; you must hear about my living consolation
+next. In justice to Mr. Farnaby--ah, how I hate him!”
+
+She spoke those last vehement words to herself, but with such intense
+bitterness of contempt that the tones were quite loud enough to be
+heard. Amelius looked furtively towards the door. Was there no hope that
+Regina and her friend might return and interrupt them? After what he had
+seen and heard, could _he_ hope to console Mrs. Farnaby? He could only
+wonder what object she could possibly have in view in taking him into
+her confidence. “Am I always to be in a mess with women?” he thought to
+himself. “First poor Mellicent, and now this one. What next?” He lit his
+cigar again. The brotherhood of smokers, and they alone, will understand
+what a refuge it was to him at that moment.
+
+“Give me a light,” said Mrs. Farnaby, recalled to the remembrance of her
+own cigar. “I want to know one thing before I go on. Amelius, I watched
+those bright eyes of yours at luncheon-time. Did they tell me the truth?
+You’re not in love with my niece, are you?”
+
+Amelius took his cigar out of his mouth, and looked at her.
+
+“Out with it boldly!” she said.
+
+Amelius let it out, to a certain extent. “I admire her very much,” he
+answered.
+
+“Ah,” Mrs. Farnaby remarked, “you don’t know her as well as I do.”
+
+The disdainful indifference of her tone irritated Amelius. He was still
+young enough to believe in the existence of gratitude; and Mrs. Farnaby
+had spoken ungratefully. Besides, he was fond enough of Regina already
+to feel offended when she was referred to slightingly.
+
+“I am surprised to hear what you say of her,” he burst out. “She is
+quite devoted to you.”
+
+“Oh yes,” said Mrs. Farnaby, carelessly. “She is devoted to me, of
+course--she is the living consolation I told you of just now. That was
+Mr. Farnaby’s notion in adopting her. Mr. Farnaby thought to himself,
+‘Here’s a ready-made daughter for my wife--that’s all this tiresome
+woman wants to comfort her: now we shall do.’ Do you know what I call
+that? I call it reasoning like an idiot. A man may be very clever at
+his business--and may be a contemptible fool in other respects. Another
+woman’s child a consolation to _me!_ Pah! it makes me sick to think of
+it. I have one merit, Amelius, I don’t cant. It’s my duty to take care
+of my sister’s child; and I do my duty willingly. Regina’s a good sort
+of creature--I don’t dispute it. But she’s like all those tall darkish
+women: there’s no backbone in her, no dash; a kind, feeble, goody-goody,
+sugarish disposition; and a deal of quiet obstinacy at the bottom of
+it, I can tell you. Oh yes, I do her justice; I don’t deny that she’s
+devoted to me, as you say. But I am making a clean breast of it now.
+And you ought to know, and you shall know, that Mr. Farnaby’s living
+consolation is no more a consolation to me than the things you have seen
+in the drawers. There! now we’ve done with Regina. No: there’s one thing
+more to be cleared up. When you say you admire her, what do you mean? Do
+you mean to marry her?”
+
+For once in his life Amelius stood on his dignity. “I have too much
+respect for the young lady to answer your question,” he said loftily.
+
+“Because, if you do,” Mrs. Farnaby proceeded, “I mean to put every
+possible obstacle in your way. In short, I mean to prevent it.”
+
+This plain declaration staggered Amelius. He confessed the truth by
+implication in one word.
+
+“Why?” he asked sharply.
+
+“Wait a little, and recover your temper,” she answered.
+
+There was a pause. They sat, on either side of the fireplace, and eyed
+each other attentively.
+
+“Now are you ready?” Mrs. Farnaby resumed. “Here is my reason. If you
+marry Regina, or marry anybody, you will settle down somewhere, and lead
+a dull life.”
+
+“Well,” said Amelius; “and why not, if I like it?”
+
+“Because I want you to remain a roving bachelor; here today and gone
+tomorrow--travelling all over the world, and seeing everything and
+everybody.”
+
+“What good will that do to _you,_ Mrs. Farnaby?”
+
+She rose from her own side of the fireplace, crossed to the side on
+which Amelius was sitting, and, standing before him, placed her hands
+heavily on his shoulders. Her eyes grew radiant with a sudden interest
+and animation as they looked down on him, riveted on his face.
+
+“I am still waiting, my friend, for the living consolation that may yet
+come to me,” she said. “And, hear this, Amelius! After all the years
+that have passed, you may be the man who brings it to me.”
+
+In the momentary silence that followed, they heard a double knock at the
+house-door.
+
+“Regina!” said Mrs. Farnaby.
+
+As the name passed her lips, she sprang to the door of the room, and
+turned the key in the lock.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 2
+
+Amelius rose impulsively from his chair.
+
+Mrs. Farnaby turned at the same moment, and signed to him to resume his
+seat. “You have given me your promise,” she whispered. “All I ask of you
+is to be silent.” She softly drew the key out of the door, and showed it
+to him. “You can’t get out,” she said, “unless you take the key from me
+by force!”
+
+Whatever Amelius might think of the situation in which he now found
+himself, the one thing that he could honourably do was to say nothing,
+and submit to it. He remained quietly by the fire. No imaginable
+consideration (he mentally resolved) should induce him to consent to a
+second confidential interview in Mrs. Farnaby’s room.
+
+The servant opened the house-door. Regina’s voice was heard in the hall.
+
+“Has my aunt come in?”
+
+“No, miss.”
+
+“Have you heard nothing of her?”
+
+“Nothing, miss.”
+
+“Has Mr. Goldenheart been here?”
+
+“No, miss.”
+
+“Very extraordinary! What can have become of them, Cecilia?”
+
+The voice of the other lady was heard in answer. “We have probably
+missed them, on leaving the concert room. Don’t alarm yourself, Regina.
+I must go back, under any circumstances; the carriage will be waiting
+for me. If I see anything of your aunt, I will say that you are
+expecting her at home.”
+
+“One moment, Cecilia! (Thomas, you needn’t wait.) Is it really true that
+you don’t like Mr. Goldenheart?”
+
+“What! has it come to that, already? I’ll try to like him, Regina.
+Goodbye again.”
+
+The closing of the street door told that the ladies had separated. The
+sound was followed, in another moment, by the opening and closing of the
+dining-room door. Mrs. Farnaby returned to her chair at the fireplace.
+
+“Regina has gone into the dining-room to wait for us,” she said. “I see
+you don’t like your position here; and I won’t keep you more than a few
+minutes longer. You are of course at a loss to understand what I was
+saying to you, when the knock at the door interrupted us. Sit down again
+for five minutes; it fidgets me to see you standing there, looking at
+your boots. I told you I had one consolation still possibly left. Judge
+for yourself what the hope of it is to me, when I own to you that I
+should long since have put an end to my life, without it. Don’t think I
+am talking nonsense; I mean what I say. It is one of my misfortunes that
+I have no religious scruples to restrain me. There was a time when I
+believed that religion might comfort me. I once opened my heart to a
+clergyman--a worthy person, who did his best to help me. All useless! My
+heart was too hard, I suppose. It doesn’t matter--except to give you
+one more proof that I am thoroughly in earnest. Patience! patience! I am
+coming to the point. I asked you some odd questions, on the day when you
+first dined here? You have forgotten all about them, of course?”
+
+“I remember them perfectly well,” Amelius answered.
+
+“You remember them? That looks as if you had thought about them
+afterwards. Come! tell me plainly what you did think?”
+
+Amelius told her plainly. She became more and more interested, more and
+more excited, as he went on.
+
+“Quite right!” she exclaimed, starting to her feet and walking swiftly
+backwards and forwards in the room. “There _is_ a lost girl whom I want
+to find; and she is between sixteen and seventeen years old, as you
+thought. Mind! I have no reason--not the shadow of a reason--for
+believing that she is still a living creature. I have only my own stupid
+obstinate conviction; rooted here,” she pressed both hands fiercely on
+her heart, “so that nothing can tear it out of me! I have lived in that
+belief--Oh, don’t ask me how long! it is so far, so miserably far, to
+look back!” She stopped in the middle of the room. Her breath came and
+went in quick heavy gasps; the first tears that had softened the hard
+wretchedness in her eyes rose in them now, and transfigured them with
+the divine beauty of maternal love. “I won’t distress you,” she said,
+stamping on the floor, as she struggled with the hysterical passion that
+was raging in her. “Give me a minute, and I’ll force it down again.”
+
+She dropped into a chair, threw her arms heavily on the table, and laid
+her head on them. Amelius thought of the child’s frock and cap hidden
+in the cabinet. All that was manly and noble in his nature felt for the
+unhappy woman, whose secret was dimly revealed to him now. The little
+selfish sense of annoyance at the awkward situation in which she had
+placed him, vanished to return no more. He approached her, and put his
+hand gently on her shoulder. “I am truly sorry for you,” he said. “Tell
+me how I can help you, and I will do it with all my heart.”
+
+“Do you really mean that?” She roughly dashed the tears from her eyes,
+and rose as she put the question. Holding him with one hand, she parted
+the hair back from his forehead with the other. “I must see your whole
+face,” she said--“your face will tell me. Yes: you do mean it. The world
+hasn’t spoilt you, yet. Do you believe in dreams?”
+
+Amelius looked at her, startled by the sudden transition. She
+deliberately repeated her question.
+
+“I ask you seriously,” she said; “do you believe in dreams?”
+
+Amelius answered seriously, on his side, “I can’t honestly say that I
+do.”
+
+“Ah!” she exclaimed, “like me. I don’t believe in dreams, either--I wish
+I did! But it’s not in me to believe in superstitions; I’m too hard--and
+I’m sorry for it. I have seen people who were comforted by their
+superstitions; happy people, possessed of faith. Don’t you even believe
+that dreams are sometimes fulfilled by chance?”
+
+“Nobody can deny that,” Amelius replied; “the instances of it are too
+many. But for one dream fulfilled by a coincidence, there are--”
+
+“A hundred at least that are _not_ fulfilled,” Mrs. Farnaby interposed.
+“Very well. I calculate on that. See how little hope can live on! There
+is just the barest possibility that what I dreamed of you the other
+night may come to pass. It’s a poor chance; but it has encouraged me to
+take you into my confidence, and ask you to help me.”
+
+This strange confession--this sad revelation of despair still
+unconsciously deceiving itself under the disguise of hope--only
+strengthened the compassionate sympathy which Amelius already felt for
+her. “What did you dream about me?” he asked gently.
+
+“It’s nothing to tell,” she replied. “I was in a room that was quite
+strange to me; and the door opened, and you came in leading a young girl
+by the hand. You said, ‘Be happy at last; here she is.’ My heart knew
+her instantly, though my eyes had never seen her since the first days
+of her life. And I woke myself, crying for joy. Wait! it’s not all told
+yet. I went to sleep again, and dreamed it again, and woke, and lay
+awake for awhile, and slept once more, and dreamed it for the third
+time. Ah, if I could only feel some people’s confidence in three times!
+No; it produced an impression on me--and that was all. I got as far as
+thinking to myself, there is just a chance; I haven’t a creature in the
+world to help me; I may as well speak to him. O, you needn’t remind me
+that there is a rational explanation of my dream. I have read it all
+up, in the Encyclopaedia in the library. One of the ideas of wise men
+is that we think of something, consciously or unconsciously, in the
+daytime, and then reproduce it in a dream. That’s my case, I daresay.
+When you were first introduced to me, and when I heard where you had
+been brought up, I thought directly that _she_ might have been one among
+the many forlorn creatures who had drifted to your Community, and that I
+might find her through you. Say that thought went to my bed with me--and
+we have the explanation of my dream. Never mind! There is my one poor
+chance in a hundred still left. You will remember me, Amelius, if you
+_should_ meet with her, won’t you?”
+
+The implied confession of her own intractable character, without
+religious faith to ennoble it, without even imagination to refine
+it--the unconscious disclosure of the one tender and loving instinct in
+her nature still piteously struggling for existence, with no sympathy to
+sustain it, with no light to guide it--would have touched the heart of
+any man not incurably depraved. Amelius spoke with the fervour of his
+young enthusiasm. “I would go to the uttermost ends of the earth, if I
+thought I could do you any good. But, oh, it sounds so hopeless!”
+
+She shook her head, and smiled faintly.
+
+“Don’t say that! You are free, you have money, you will travel about
+in the world and amuse yourself. In a week you will see more than
+stay-at-home people see in a year. How do we know what the future has
+in store for us? I have my own idea. She may be lost in the labyrinth
+of London, or she may be hundreds of thousands of miles away. Amuse
+yourself, Amelius--amuse yourself. Tomorrow or ten years hence, you
+might meet with her!”
+
+In sheer mercy to the poor creature, Amelius refused to encourage her
+delusion. “Even supposing such a thing could happen,” he objected, “how
+am I to know the lost girl? You can’t describe her to me; you have not
+seen her since she was a child. Do you know anything of what happened at
+the time--I mean at the time when she was lost?”
+
+“I know nothing.”
+
+“Absolutely nothing?”
+
+“Absolutely nothing.”
+
+“Have you never felt a suspicion of how it happened?”
+
+Her face changed: she frowned as she looked at him. “Not till weeks and
+months had passed,” she said, “not till it was too late. I was ill
+at the time. When my mind got clear again, I began to suspect one
+particular person--little by little, you know; noticing trifles, and
+thinking about them afterwards.” She stopped, evidently restraining
+herself on the point of saying more.
+
+Amelius tried to lead her on. “Did you suspect the person--?” he began.
+
+“I suspected him of casting the child helpless on the world!” Mrs.
+Farnaby interposed, with a sudden burst of fury. “Don’t ask me any more
+about it, or I shall break out and shock you!” She clenched her fists as
+she said the words. “It’s well for that man,” she muttered between her
+teeth, “that I have never got beyond suspecting, and never found out the
+truth! Why did you turn my mind that way? You shouldn’t have done it.
+Help me back again to what we were saying a minute ago. You made some
+objection; you said--?”
+
+“I said,” Amelius reminded her, “that, even if I did meet with the
+missing girl, I couldn’t possibly know it. And I must say more than
+that--I don’t see how you yourself could be sure of recognizing her, if
+she stood before you at this moment.”
+
+He spoke very gently, fearing to irritate her. She showed no sign of
+irritation--she looked at him, and listened to him, attentively.
+
+“Are you setting a trap for me?” she asked. “No!” she cried, before
+Amelius could answer, “I am not mean enough to distrust you--I forgot
+myself. You have innocently said something that rankles in my mind. I
+can’t leave it where you have left it; I don’t like to be told that I
+shouldn’t recognize her. Give me time to think. I must clear this up.”
+
+She consulted her own thoughts, keeping her eyes fixed on Amelius.
+
+“I am going to speak plainly,” she announced, with a sudden appearance
+of resolution. “Listen to this. When I banged to the door of that big
+cupboard of mine, it was because I didn’t want you to see something on
+the shelves. Did you see anything in spite of me?”
+
+The question was not an easy one to answer. Amelius hesitated. Mrs.
+Farnaby insisted on a reply.
+
+“Did you see anything?” she reiterated
+
+Amelius owned that he had seen something.
+
+She turned away from him, and looked into the fire. Her firm full tones
+sank so low, when she spoke next, that he could barely hear them.
+
+“Was it something belonging to a child?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Was it a baby’s frock and cap? Answer me. We have gone too far to go
+back. I don’t want apologies or explanations--I want, Yes or No.”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+There was an interval of silence. She never moved; she still looked into
+fire--looked, as if all her past life was pictured there in the burning
+coals.
+
+“Do you despise me?” she asked at last, very quietly.
+
+“As God hears me, I am only sorry for you!” Amelius answered.
+
+Another woman would have melted into tears. This woman still looked into
+the fire--and that was all. “What a good fellow!” she said to herself,
+“what a good fellow he is!”
+
+There was another pause. She turned towards him again as abruptly as she
+had turned away.
+
+“I had hoped to spare you, and to spare myself,” she said. “If the
+miserable truth has come out, it is through no curiosity of yours, and
+(God knows!) against every wish of mine. I don’t know if you really felt
+like a friend towards me before--you must be my friend now. Don’t speak!
+I know I can trust you. One last word, Amelius, about my lost child. You
+doubt whether I should recognize her, if she stood before me now. That
+might be quite true, if I had only my own poor hopes and anxieties to
+guide me. But I have something else to guide me--and, after what has
+passed between us, you may as well know what it is: it might even, by
+accident, guide you. Don’t alarm yourself; it’s nothing distressing this
+time. How can I explain it?” she went on; pausing, and speaking in some
+perplexity to herself. “It would be easier to show it--and why not?” She
+addressed herself to Amelius once more. “I’m a strange creature,”
+ she resumed. “First, I worry you about my own affairs--then I puzzle
+you--then I make you sorry for me--and now (would you think it?) I am
+going to amuse you! Amelius, are you an admirer of pretty feet?”
+
+Amelius had heard of men (in books) who had found reason to doubt
+whether their own ears were not deceiving them. For the first time, he
+began to understand those men, and to sympathize with them. He admitted,
+in a certain bewildered way, that he was an admirer of pretty feet--and
+waited for what was to come next.
+
+“When a woman has a pretty hand,” Mrs. Farnaby proceeded; “she is ready
+enough to show it. When she goes out to a ball, she favours you with a
+view of her bosom, and a part of her back. Now tell me! If there is no
+impropriety in a naked bosom--where is the impropriety in a naked foot?”
+
+Amelius agreed, like a man in a dream.
+
+“Where, indeed!” he remarked--and waited again for what was to come
+next.
+
+“Look out of the window,” said Mrs. Farnaby.
+
+Amelius obeyed. The window had been opened for a few inches at the
+top, no doubt to ventilate the room. The dull view of the courtyard was
+varied by the stables at the farther end, and by the kitchen skylight
+rising in the middle of the open space. As Amelius looked out, he
+observed that some person at that moment in the kitchen required
+apparently a large supply of fresh air. The swinging window, on the side
+of the skylight which was nearest to him, was invisibly and noiselessly
+pulled open from below; the similar window, on the other side, being
+already wide open also. Judging by appearance, the inhabitants of the
+kitchen possessed a merit which is exceedingly rare among domestic
+servants--they understood the laws of ventilation, and appreciated the
+blessing of fresh air.
+
+“That will do,” said Mrs. Farnaby. “You can turn round now.”
+
+Amelius turned. Mrs. Farnaby’s boots and stockings were on the
+hearthrug, and one of Mrs. Farnaby’s feet was placed, ready for
+inspection, on the chair which he had just left. “Look at my right foot
+first,” she said, speaking gravely and composedly in her ordinary tone.
+
+It was well worth looking at--a foot equally beautiful in form and
+in colour: the instep arched and high, the ankle at once delicate and
+strong, the toes tinged with rose-colour at the tips. In brief, it was
+a foot to be photographed, to be cast in plaster, to be fondled and
+kissed. Amelius attempted to express his admiration, but was not
+allowed to get beyond the first two or three words. “No,” Mrs. Farnaby
+explained, “this is not vanity--simply information. You have seen my
+right foot; and you have noticed that there is nothing the matter with
+it. Very well. Now look at my left foot.”
+
+She put her left foot up on the chair. “Look between the third toe and
+the fourth,” she said.
+
+Following his instructions, Amelius discovered that the beauty of the
+foot was spoilt, in this case, by a singular defect. The two toes were
+bound together by a flexible web, or membrane, which held them to each
+other as high as the insertion of the nail on either side.
+
+“Do you wonder,” Mrs. Farnaby asked, “why I show you the fault in my
+foot? Amelius! my poor darling was born with my deformity--and I want
+you to know exactly what it is, because neither you nor I can say what
+reason for remembering it there may not be in the future.” She stopped,
+as if to give him an opportunity of speaking. A man shallow and flippant
+by nature might have seen the disclosure in a grotesque aspect. Amelius
+was sad and silent. “I like you better and better,” she went on. “You
+are not like the common run of men. Nine out of ten of them would have
+turned what I have just told you into a joke--nine out of ten would have
+said, ‘Am I to ask every girl I meet to show me her left foot?’ You are
+above that; you understand me. Have I no means of recognizing my own
+child, now?”
+
+She smiled, and took her foot off the chair--then, after a moment’s
+thought, she pointed to it again.
+
+“Keep this as strictly secret as you keep everything else,” she said.
+“In the past days, when I used to employ people privately to help me to
+find her, it was my only defence against being imposed upon. Rogues and
+vagabonds thought of other marks and signs--but not one of them could
+guess at such a mark as that. Have you got your pocket-book, Amelius? In
+case we are separated at some later time, I want to write the name and
+address in it of a person whom we can trust. I persist, you see, in
+providing for the future. There’s the one chance in a hundred that my
+dream may come true--and you have so many years before you, and so many
+girls to meet with in that time!”
+
+She handed back the pocket-book, which Amelius had given to her, after
+having inscribed a man’s name and address on one of the blank leaves.
+
+“He was my father’s lawyer,” she explained; “and he and his son are both
+men to be trusted. Suppose I am ill, for instance--no, that’s absurd; I
+never had a day’s illness in my life. Suppose I am dead (killed perhaps
+by some accident, or perhaps by my own hand), the lawyers have my
+written instructions, in the case of my child being found. Then again--I
+am such an unaccountable woman--I may go away somewhere, all by myself.
+Never mind! The lawyers shall have my address, and my positive orders
+(though they keep it a secret from all the world besides) to tell it to
+you. I don’t ask your pardon, Amelius, for troubling you. The chances
+are so terribly against me; it is all but impossible that I shall ever
+see you--as I saw you in my dream--coming into the room, leading my girl
+by the hand. Odd, isn’t it? This is how I veer about between hope and
+despair. Well, it may amuse you to remember it, one of these days. Years
+hence, when I am at rest in mother earth, and when you are a middle aged
+married man, you may tell your wife how strangely you once became the
+forlorn hope of the most wretched woman that ever lived--and you may say
+to each other, as you sit by your snug fireside, ‘Perhaps that poor lost
+daughter is still living somewhere, and wondering who her mother was.’
+No! I won’t let you see the tears in my eyes again--I’ll let you go at
+last.”
+
+She led the way to the door--a creature to be pitied, if ever there was
+a pitiable creature yet: a woman whose whole nature was maternal, who
+was nothing if not a mother; and who had lived through sixteen years of
+barren life, in the hopeless anticipation of recovering her lost child!
+
+“Goodbye, and thank you,” she said. “I want to be left by myself, my
+dear, with that little frock and cap which you found out in spite of me.
+Go, and tell my niece it’s all right--and don’t be stupid enough to fall
+in love with a girl who has no love to give you in return.” She pushed
+Amelius into the hall. “Here he is, Regina!” she called out; “I have
+done with him.”
+
+Before Amelius could speak, she had shut herself into her room. He
+advanced along the hall, and met Regina at the door of the dining-room.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 3
+
+The young lady spoke first.
+
+“Mr. Goldenheart,” she said, with the coldest possible politeness,
+“perhaps you will be good enough to explain what this means?”
+
+She turned back into the dining-room. Amelius followed her in silence.
+“Here I am, in another scrape with a woman!” he thought to himself. “Are
+men in general as unlucky as I am, I wonder?”
+
+“You needn’t close the door,” said Regina maliciously. “Everybody in the
+house is welcome to hear what _I_ have to say to you.”
+
+Amelius made a mistake at the outset--he tried what a little humility
+would do to help him. There is probably no instance on record in which
+humility on the part of a man has ever really found its way to the
+indulgence of an irritated woman. The best and the worst of them alike
+have at least one virtue in common--they secretly despise a man who is
+not bold enough to defend himself when they are angry with him.
+
+“I hope I have not offended you?” Amelius ventured to say.
+
+She tossed her head contemptuously. “Oh dear, no! I am not offended.
+Only a little surprised at your being so very ready to oblige my aunt.”
+
+In the short experience of her which had fallen to the lot of Amelius,
+she had never looked so charmingly as she looked now. The nervous
+irritability under which she was suffering brightened her face with the
+animation which was wanting in it at ordinary times. Her soft brown eyes
+sparkled; her smooth dusky cheeks glowed with a warm red flush; her
+tall supple figure asserted its full dignity, robed in a superb dress of
+silken purple and black lace, which set off her personal attractions to
+the utmost advantage. She not only roused the admiration of Amelius--she
+unconsciously gave him back the self-possession which he had, for the
+moment, completely lost. He was man enough to feel the humiliation of
+being despised by the one woman in the world whose love he longed
+to win; and he answered with a sudden firmness of tone and look that
+startled her.
+
+“You had better speak more plainly still, Miss Regina,” he said. “You
+may as well blame me at once for the misfortune of being a man.”
+
+She drew back a step. “I don’t understand you,” she answered.
+
+“Do I owe no forbearance to a woman who asks a favour of me?” Amelius
+went on. “If a man had asked me to steal into the house on tiptoe, I
+should have said--well! I should have said something I had better not
+repeat. If a man had stood between me and the door when you came back, I
+should have taken him by the collar and pulled him out of my way. Could
+I do that, if you please, with Mrs. Farnaby?”
+
+Regina saw the weak point of this defence with a woman’s quickness of
+perception. “I can’t offer any opinion,” she said; “especially when you
+lay all the blame on my aunt.”
+
+Amelius opened his lips to protest--and thought better of it. He wisely
+went straight on with what he had still to say.
+
+“If you will let me finish,” he resumed, “you will understand me a
+little better than that. Whatever blame there may be, Miss Regina, I am
+quite ready to take on myself. I merely wanted to remind you that I was
+put in an awkward position, and that I couldn’t civilly find a way out
+of it. As for your aunt, I will only say this: I know of hardly any
+sacrifice that I would not submit to, if I could be of the smallest
+service to her. After what I heard, while I was in her room--”
+
+Regina interrupted him at that point. “I suppose it’s a secret between
+you?” she said.
+
+“Yes; it’s a secret,” Amelius proceeded, “as you say. But one thing I
+may tell you, without breaking my promise. Mrs. Farnaby has--well! has
+filled me with kindly feeling towards her. She has a claim, poor soul,
+to my truest sympathy. And I shall remember her claim. And I shall be
+faithful to what I feel towards her as long as I live!”
+
+It was not very elegantly expressed; but the tone was the tone of true
+feeling in his voice trembled, his colour rose. He stood before her,
+speaking with perfect simplicity straight from his heart--and the
+woman’s heart felt it instantly. This was the man whose ridicule she had
+dreaded, if her aunt’s rash confidence struck him in an absurd light!
+She sat down in silence, with a grave sad face, reproaching herself for
+the wrong which her too ready distrust had inflicted on him; longing to
+ask his pardon, and yet hesitating to say the simple words.
+
+He approached her chair, and, placing his hand on the back of it, said
+gently, “do you think a little better of me now?”
+
+She had taken off her gloves: she silently folded and refolded them in
+her lap.
+
+“Your good opinion is very precious to me,” Amelius pleaded, bending
+a little nearer to her. “I can’t tell you how sorry I should be--” He
+stopped, and put it more strongly. “I shall never have courage enough to
+enter the house again, if I have made you think meanly of me.”
+
+A woman who cared nothing for him would have easily answered this. The
+calm heart of Regina began to flutter: something warned her not to trust
+herself to speak. Little as he suspected it, Amelius had troubled the
+tranquil temperament of this woman. He had found his way to those
+secret reserves of tenderness--placid and deep--of which she was hardly
+conscious herself, until his influence had enlightened her. She was
+afraid to look up at him; her eyes would have told him the truth. She
+lifted her long, finely shaped, dusky hand, and offered it to him as the
+best answer that she could make.
+
+Amelius took it, looked at it, and ventured on his first familiarity
+with her--he kissed it. She only said, “Don’t!” very faintly.
+
+“The Queen would let me kiss her hand if I went to Court,” Amelius
+reminded her, with a pleasant inner conviction of his wonderful
+readiness at finding an excuse.
+
+She smiled in spite of herself. “Would the Queen let you hold it?” she
+asked, gently releasing her hand, and looking at him as she drew it
+away. The peace was made without another word of explanation. Amelius
+took a chair at her side. “I’m quite happy now you have forgiven me,” he
+said. “You don’t know how I admire you--and how anxious I am to please
+you, if I only knew how!”
+
+He drew his chair a little nearer; his eyes told her plainly that his
+language would soon become warmer still, if she gave him the smallest
+encouragement. This was one reason for changing the subject. But there
+was another reason, more cogent still. Her first painful sense of having
+treated him unjustly had ceased to make itself keenly felt; the lower
+emotions had their opportunity of asserting themselves. Curiosity,
+irresistible curiosity, took possession of her mind, and urged her to
+penetrate the mystery of the interview between Amelius and her aunt.
+
+“Will you think me very indiscreet,” she began slyly, “if I made a
+little confession to you?”
+
+Amelius was only too eager to hear the confession: it would pave the way
+for something of the same sort on his part.
+
+“I understand my aunt making the heat in the concert-room a pretence for
+taking you away with her,” Regina proceeded; “but what astonishes me is
+that she should have admitted you to her confidence after so short an
+acquaintance. You are still--what shall I say?--you are still a new
+friend of ours.”
+
+“How long will it be before I become an old friend?” Amelius asked. “I
+mean,” he added, with artful emphasis, “an old friend of _yours?”_
+
+Confused by the question, Regina passed it over without notice. “I am
+Mrs. Farnaby’s adopted daughter,” she resumed. “I have been with her
+since I was a little girl--and yet she has never told me any of her
+secrets. Pray don’t suppose that I am tempting you to break faith with
+my aunt! I am quite incapable of such conduct as that.”
+
+Amelius saw his way to a thoroughly commonplace compliment which
+possessed the charm of complete novelty so far as his experience was
+concerned. He would actually have told her that she was incapable of
+doing anything which was not perfectly becoming to a charming person, if
+she had only given him time! She was too eager in the pursuit of her
+own object to give him time. “I _should_ like to know,” she went on,
+“whether my aunt has been influenced in any way by a dream that she had
+about you.”
+
+Amelius started. “Has she told you of her dream?” he asked, with some
+appearance of alarm.
+
+Regina blushed and hesitated, “My room is next to my aunt’s,” she
+explained. “We keep the door between us open. I am often in and out when
+she is disturbed in her sleep. She was talking in her sleep, and I
+heard your name--nothing more. Perhaps I ought not to have mentioned it?
+Perhaps I ought not to expect you to answer me?”
+
+“There is no harm in my answering you,” said Amelius. “The dream really
+had something to do with her trusting me. You may not think quite so
+unfavourably of her conduct now you know that.”
+
+“It doesn’t matter what I think,” Regina replied constrainedly. “If my
+aunt’s secrets have interested you--what right have I to object? I am
+sure I shall say nothing. Though I am not in my aunt’s confidence, nor
+in your confidence, you will find I can keep a secret.”
+
+She folded up her gloves for the twentieth time at least, and gave
+Amelius his opportunity of retiring by rising from her chair. He made
+a last effort to recover the ground that he had lost, without betraying
+Mrs. Farnaby’s trust in him.
+
+“I am sure you can keep a secret,” he said. “I should like to give you
+one of my secrets to keep--only I mustn’t take the liberty, I suppose,
+just yet?”
+
+She new perfectly well what he wanted to say. Her heart began to quicken
+its beat; she was at a loss how to answer. After an awkward silence, she
+made an attempt to dismiss him. “Don’t let me detain you,” she said, “if
+you have any engagement.”
+
+Amelius silently looked round him for his hat. On a table behind him
+a monthly magazine lay open, exhibiting one of those melancholy modern
+“illustrations” which present the English art of our day in its laziest
+and lowest state of degradation. A vacuous young giant, in flowing
+trousers, stood in a garden, and stared at a plump young giantess with
+enormous eyes and rotund hips, vacantly boring holes in the grass with
+the point of her parasol. Perfectly incapable of explaining itself, this
+imbecile production put its trust in the printer, whose charitable types
+helped it, at the bottom of the page, with the title of “Love at First
+Sight.” On those remarkable words Amelius seized, with the desperation
+of the drowning man, catching at the proverbial straw. They offered him
+a chance of pleading his cause, this time, with a happy indirectness
+of allusion at which not even a young lady’s susceptibility could take
+offence.
+
+“Do you believe in that?” he said, pointing to the illustration.
+
+Regina declined to understand him. “In what?” she asked.
+
+“In love at first sight.”
+
+It would be speaking with inexcusable rudeness to say plainly that she
+told him a lie. Let the milder form of expression be, that she modestly
+concealed the truth. “I don’t know anything about it,” she said.
+
+_“I_ do,” Amelius remarked smartly.
+
+She persisted in looking at the illustration. Was there an infection
+of imbecility in that fatal work? She was too simple to understand him,
+even yet! “You do--what?” she inquired innocently.
+
+“I know what love at first sight is,” Amelius burst out.
+
+Regina turned over the leaves of the magazine. “Ah,” she said, “you have
+read the story.”
+
+“I haven’t read the story,” Amelius answered. “I know what I felt
+myself--on being introduced to a young lady.”
+
+She looked up at him with a sly smile. “A young lady in America?” she
+asked.
+
+“In England, Miss Regina.” He tried to take her hand--but she kept
+it out of his reach. “In London,” he went on, drifting back into his
+customary plainness of speech. “In this very street,” he resumed,
+seizing her hand before she was aware of him. Too much bewildered to
+know what else to do, Regina took refuge desperately in shaking hands
+with him. “Goodbye, Mr. Goldenheart,” she said--and gave him his
+dismissal for the second time.
+
+Amelius submitted to his fate; there was something in her eyes which
+warned him that he had ventured far enough for that day.
+
+“May I call again, soon?” he asked piteously.
+
+“No!” answered a voice at the door which they both recognized--the voice
+of Mrs. Farnaby.
+
+“Yes!” Regina whispered to him, as her aunt entered the room. Mrs.
+Farnaby’s interference, following on the earlier events of the day, had
+touched the young lady’s usually placable temper in a tender place--and
+Amelius reaped the benefit of it.
+
+Mrs. Farnaby walked straight up to him, put her hand in his arm, and led
+him out into the hall.
+
+“I had my suspicions,” she said; “and I find they have not misled me.
+Twice already, I have warned you to let my niece alone. For the third,
+and last time, I tell you that she is as cold as ice. She will trifle
+with you as long as it flatters her vanity; and she will throw you over,
+as she has thrown other men over. Have your fling, you foolish fellow,
+before you marry anybody. Pay no more visits to this house, unless they
+are visits to me. I shall expect to hear from you.” She paused, and
+pointed to a statue which was one of the ornaments in the hall. “Look at
+that bronze woman with the clock in her hand. That’s Regina. Be off with
+you--goodbye!”
+
+Amelius found himself in the street. Regina was looking out at the
+dining-room window. He kissed his hand to her: she smiled and bowed.
+“Damn the other men!” Amelius said to himself. “I’ll call on her
+tomorrow.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 4
+
+Returning to his hotel, he found three letters waiting for him on the
+sitting-room table.
+
+The first letter that he opened was from his landlord, and contained his
+bill for the past week. As he looked at the sum total, Amelius presented
+to perfection the aspect of a serious young man. He took pen, ink,
+and paper, and made some elaborate calculations. Money that he had too
+generously lent, or too freely given away, appeared in his statement of
+expenses, as well as money that he had spent on himself. The result may
+be plainly stated in his own words: “Goodbye to the hotel; I must go
+into lodgings.”
+
+Having arrived at this wise decision, he opened the second letter. It
+proved to be written by the lawyers who had already communicated with
+him at Tadmor, on the subject of his inheritance.
+
+
+“DEAR SIR,
+
+“The enclosed, insufficiently addressed as you will perceive, only
+reached us this day. We beg to remain, etc.”
+
+
+Amelius opened the letter enclosed, and turned to the signature for
+information. The name instantly took him back to the Community: the
+writer was Mellicent.
+
+Her letter began abruptly, in these terms:
+
+“Do you remember what I said to you when we parted at Tadmor? I said,
+‘Be comforted, Amelius, the end is not yet.’ And I said again, ‘You will
+come back to me.’
+
+“I remind you of this, my friend--directing to your lawyers, whose names
+I remember when their letter to you was publicly read in the Common
+Room. Once or twice a year I shall continue to remind you of those
+parting words of mine: there will be a time perhaps when you will thank
+me for doing so.
+
+“In the mean while, light your pipe with my letters; my letters don’t
+matter. If I can comfort you, and reconcile you to your life--years
+hence, when you, too, my Amelius, may be one of the Fallen Leaves like
+me--then I shall not have lived and suffered in vain; my last days on
+earth will be the happiest days that I have ever seen.
+
+“Be pleased not to answer these lines, or any other written words of
+mine that may follow, so long as you are prosperous and happy. With
+_that_ part of your life I have nothing to do. You will find friends
+wherever you go--among the women especially. Your generous nature shows
+itself frankly in your face; your manly gentleness and sweetness speak
+in every tone of your voice; we poor women feel drawn towards you by
+an attraction which we are not able to resist. Have you fallen in love
+already with some beautiful English girl? Oh, be careful and prudent!
+Be sure, before you set your heart on her, that she is worthy of you! So
+many women are cruel and deceitful. Some of them will make you believe
+you have won their love, when you have only flattered their vanity; and
+some are poor weak creatures whose minds are set on their own interests,
+and who may let bad advisers guide them, when you are not by. For your
+own sake, take care!
+
+“I am living with my sister, at New York. The days and weeks glide by
+me quietly; you are in my thoughts and my prayers; I have nothing to
+complain of; I wait and hope. When the time of my banishment from the
+Community has expired, I shall go back to Tadmor; and there you will
+find me, Amelius, the first to welcome you when your spirits are sinking
+under the burden of life, and your heart turns again to the friends of
+your early days.
+
+“Goodbye, my dear--goodbye!”
+
+
+Amelius laid the letter aside, touched and saddened by the artless
+devotion to him which it expressed. He was conscious also of a feeling
+of uneasy surprise, when he read the lines which referred to his
+possible entanglement with some beautiful English girl. Here, with
+widely different motives, was Mrs. Farnaby’s warning repeated, by
+a stranger writing from another quarter of the globe! It was an odd
+coincidence, to say the least of it. After thinking for a while, he
+turned abruptly to the third letter that was waiting for him. He was not
+at ease; his mind felt the need of relief.
+
+The third letter was from Rufus Dingwell; announcing the close of his
+tour in Ireland, and his intention of shortly joining Amelius in London.
+The excellent American expressed, with his customary absence of reserve,
+his fervent admiration of Irish hospitality, Irish beauty, and Irish
+whisky. “Green Erin wants but one thing more,” Rufus predicted, “to be
+a Paradise on earth--it wants the day to come when we shall send an
+American minister to the Irish Republic.” Laughing over this quaint
+outbreak, Amelius turned from the first page to the second. As his eyes
+fell on the next paragraph, a sudden change passed over him; he let the
+letter drop on the floor.
+
+“One last word,” the American wrote, “about that nice long bright letter
+of yours. I have read it with strict attention, and thought over it
+considerably afterwards. Don’t be riled, friend Amelius, if I tell
+you in plain words, that your account of the Farnabys doesn’t make me
+happy--quite the contrary, I do assure you. My back is set up, sir,
+against that family. You will do well to drop them; and, above all
+things, mind what you are about with the brown miss, who has found
+her way to your favourable opinion in such an almighty hurry. Do me a
+favour, my good boy. Just wait till I have seen her, will you?”
+
+Mrs. Farnaby, Mellicent, Rufus--all three strangers to each other; and
+all three agreed nevertheless in trying to part him from the beautiful
+young Englishwoman! “I don’t care,” Amelius thought to himself “They may
+say what they please--I’ll marry Regina, if she will have me!”
+
+
+
+
+BOOK THE FOURTH. LOVE AND MONEY
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 1
+
+In an interval of no more than three weeks what events may not present
+themselves? what changes may not take place? Behold Amelius, on the
+first drizzling day of November, established in respectable lodgings, at
+a moderate weekly rent. He stands before his small fireside, and warms
+his back with an Englishman’s severe sense of enjoyment. The cheap
+looking-glass on the mantelpiece reflects the head and shoulders of a
+new Amelius. His habits are changed; his social position is in course of
+development. Already, he is a strict economist. Before long, he expects
+to become a married man.
+
+It is good to be economical: it is, perhaps, better still to be the
+accepted husband of a handsome young woman. But, for all that, a man
+in a state of moral improvement, with prospects which his less favoured
+fellow creatures may reasonably envy, is still a man subject to the
+mischievous mercy of circumstances, and capable of feeling it keenly.
+The face of the new Amelius wore an expression of anxiety, and, more
+remarkable yet, the temper of the new Amelius was out of order.
+
+For the first time in his life he found himself considering trivial
+questions of sixpences, and small favours of discount for cash
+payments--an irritating state of things in itself. There were more
+serious anxieties, however, to trouble him than these. He had no reason
+to complain of the beloved object herself. Not twelve hours since he
+had said to Regina, with a voice that faltered, and a heart that beat
+wildly, “Are you fond enough of me to let me marry you?” And she had
+answered placidly, with a heart that would have satisfied the most
+exacting stethoscope in the medical profession, “Yes, if you like.”
+ There was a moment of rapture, when she submitted for the first time to
+be kissed, and when she consented, on being gently reminded that it was
+expected of her, to return the kiss--once, and no more. But there was
+also an attendant train of serious considerations which followed on the
+heels of Amelius when the kissing was over, and when he had said goodbye
+for the day.
+
+He had two women for enemies, both resolutely against him in the matter
+of his marriage.
+
+Regina’s correspondent and bosom friend, Cecilia, who had begun by
+disliking him, without knowing why, persisted in maintaining her
+unfavourable opinion of the new friend of the Farnabys. She was a young
+married woman; and she had an influence over Regina which promised, when
+the fit opportunity came, to make itself felt. The second, and by far
+the more powerful hostile influence, was the influence of Mrs. Farnaby.
+Nothing could exceed the half sisterly, half motherly, goodwill with
+which she received Amelius on those rare occasions when they happened
+to meet, unembarrassed by the presence of a third person in the room.
+Without actually reverting to what had passed between them during their
+memorable interview, Mrs. Farnaby asked questions, plainly showing that
+the forlorn hope which she associated with Amelius was a hope still
+firmly rooted in her mind. “Have you been much about London lately?”
+ “Have you met with any girls who have taken your fancy?” “Are you
+getting tired of staying in the same place, and are you going to travel
+soon?” Inquiries such as these she was, sooner or later, sure to make
+when they were alone. But if Regina happened to enter the room, or
+if Amelius contrived to find his way to her in some other part of the
+house, Mrs. Farnaby deliberately shortened the interview and silenced
+the lovers--still as resolute as ever to keep Amelius exposed to the
+adventurous freedom of a bachelor’s life. For the last week, his only
+opportunities of speaking to Regina had been obtained for him secretly
+by the well-rewarded devotion of her maid. And he had now the prospect
+before him of asking Mr. Farnaby for the hand of his adopted daughter,
+with the certainty of the influence of two women being used against
+him--even if he succeeded in obtaining a favourable reception for his
+proposal from the master of the house.
+
+Under such circumstances as these--alone, on a rainy November day, in
+a lodging on the dreary eastward side of the Tottenham Court Road--even
+Amelius bore the aspect of a melancholy man. He was angry with his cigar
+because it refused to light freely. He was angry with the poor deaf
+servant-of-all-work, who entered the room, after one thumping knock
+at the door, and made, in muffled tones, the barbarous announcement,
+“Here’s somebody a-wantin’ to see yer.”
+
+“Who the devil is Somebody?” Amelius shouted.
+
+“Somebody is a citizen of the United States,” answered Rufus, quietly
+entering the room. “And he’s sorry to find Claude A. Goldenheart’s
+temperature at boiling-point already!”
+
+He had not altered in the slightest degree since he had left the
+steamship at Queenstown. Irish hospitality had not fattened him;
+the change from sea to land had not suggested to him the slightest
+alteration in his dress. He still wore the huge felt hat in which he
+had first presented himself to notice on the deck of the vessel. The
+maid-of-all-work raised her eyes to the face of the long lean stranger,
+overshadowed by the broadbrimmed hat, in reverent amazement. “My love
+to you, miss,” said Rufus, with his customary grave cordiality; _“I’ll_
+shut the door.” Having dismissed the maid with that gentle hint, he
+shook hands heartily with Amelius. “Well, I call this a juicy morning,”
+ he said, just as if they had met at the cabin breakfast-table as usual.
+
+For the moment, at least, Amelius brightened at the sight of his
+fellow-traveller. “I am really glad to see you,” he said. “It’s lonely
+in these new quarters, before one gets used to them.”
+
+Rufus relieved himself of his hat and great coat, and silently looked
+about the room. “I’m big in the bones,” he remarked, surveying the
+rickety lodging-house furniture with some suspicion; “and I’m a trifle
+heavier than I look. I shan’t break one of these chairs if I sit down on
+it, shall I?” Passing round the table (littered with books and letters)
+in search of the nearest chair, he accidentally brushed against a sheet
+of paper with writing on it. “Memorandum of friends in London, to be
+informed of my change of address,” he read, looking at the paper, as
+he picked it up, with the friendly freedom that characterized him. “You
+have made pretty good use of your time, my son, since I took my leave
+of you in Queenstown harbour. I call this a reasonable long list of
+acquaintances made by a young stranger in London.”
+
+“I met with an old friend of my family at the hotel,” Amelius explained.
+“He was a great loss to my poor father, when he got an appointment in
+India; and, now he has returned, he has been equally kind to me. I am
+indebted to his introduction for most of the names on that list.”
+
+“Yes?” said Rufus, in the interrogative tone of a man who was waiting to
+hear more. “I’m listening, though I may not look like it. Git along.”
+
+Amelius looked at his visitor, wondering in what precise direction he
+was to “git along.”
+
+“I’m no friend to partial information,” Rufus proceeded; “I like to
+round it off complete, as it were, in my own mind. There are names on
+this list that you haven’t accounted for yet. Who provided you, sir,
+with the balance of your new friends?”
+
+Amelius answered, not very willingly, “I met them at Mr. Farnaby’s
+house.”
+
+Rufus looked up from the list with the air of a man surprised by
+disagreeable information, and unwilling to receive it too readily.
+“How?” he exclaimed, using the old English equivalent (often heard in
+America) for the modern “What?”
+
+“I met them at Mr. Farnaby’s,” Amelius repeated.
+
+“Did you happen to receive a letter of my writing, dated Dublin?” Rufus
+asked.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Do you set any particular value on my advice?”
+
+“Certainly!”
+
+“And you cultivate social relations with Farnaby and family,
+notwithstanding?”
+
+“I have motives for being friendly with them, which--which I haven’t had
+time to explain to you yet.”
+
+Rufus stretched out his long legs on the floor, and fixed his shrewd
+grave eyes steadily on Amelius.
+
+“My friend,” he said, quietly, “in respect of personal appearance and
+pleasing elasticity of spirits, I find you altered for the worse, I do.
+It may be Liver, or it may be Love. I reckon, now I think of it, you’re
+too young yet for Liver. It’s the brown miss--that’s what ‘tis. I hate
+that girl, sir, by instinct.”
+
+“A nice way of talking of a young lady you never saw!” Amelius broke
+out.
+
+Rufus smiled grimly. “Go ahead!” he said. “If you can get vent in
+quarrelling with me, go ahead, my son.”
+
+He looked round the room again, with his hands in his pockets,
+whistling. Descending to the table in due course of time, his quick eye
+detected a photograph placed on the open writing desk which Amelius had
+been using earlier in the day. Before it was possible to stop him,
+the photograph was in his hand. “I believe I’ve got her likeness,” he
+announced. “I do assure you I take pleasure in making her acquaintance
+in this sort of way. Well, now, I declare she’s a columnar creature!
+Yes, sir; I do justice to your native produce--your fine fleshy beef-fed
+English girl. But I tell you this: after a child or two, that sort runs
+to fat, and you find you have married more of her than you bargained
+for. To what lengths may you have proceeded, Amelius, with this splendid
+and spanking person?”
+
+Amelius was just on the verge of taking offence. “Speak of her
+respectfully,” he said, “if you expect me to answer you.”
+
+Rufus stared in astonishment. “I’m paying her all manner of
+compliments,” he protested, “and you’re not satisfied yet. My friend,
+I still find something about you, on this occasion, which reminds me
+of meat cut against the grain. You’re almost nasty--you are! The air of
+London, I reckon, isn’t at all the thing for you. Well, it don’t matter
+to me; I like you. Afloat or ashore, I like you. Do you want to know
+what I should do, in your place, if I found myself steering a little too
+nigh to the brown miss? I should--well, to put it in one word, I should
+scatter. Where’s the harm, I’ll ask you, if you try another girl or two,
+before you make your mind up. I shall be proud to introduce you to our
+slim and snaky sort at Coolspring. Yes. I mean what I say; and I’ll go
+back with you across the pond.” Referring in this disrespectful manner
+to the Atlantic Ocean, Rufus offered his hand in token of unalterable
+devotion and goodwill.
+
+Who could resist such a man as this? Amelius, always in extremes, wrung
+his hand, with an impetuous sense of shame. “I’ve been sulky,” he said,
+“I’ve been rude, I ought to be ashamed of myself--and I am. There’s only
+one excuse for me, Rufus. I love her with all my heart and soul; and
+I’m engaged to be married to her. And yet, if you understand my way of
+putting it, I’m--in short, I’m in a mess.”
+
+With this characteristic preface, he described his position as exactly
+as he could; having due regard to the necessary reserve on the subject
+of Mrs. Farnaby. Rufus listened, with the closest attention, from
+beginning to end; making no attempt to disguise the unfavourable
+impression which the announcement of the marriage-engagement had made on
+him. When he spoke next, instead of looking at Amelius as usual, he held
+his head down, and looked gloomily at his boots.
+
+“Well,” he said, “you’ve gone ahead this time, and that’s a fact. She
+didn’t raise any difficulties that a man could ride off on--did she?”
+
+“She was all that was sweet and kind!” Amelius answered, with
+enthusiasm.
+
+“She was all that was sweet and kind,” Rufus absently repeated, still
+intent on the solid spectacle of his own boots. “And how about uncle
+Farnaby? Perhaps he’s sweet and kind likewise, or perhaps he cuts up
+rough? Possible--is it not, sir?”
+
+“I don’t know; I haven’t spoken to him yet.”
+
+Rufus suddenly looked up. A faint gleam of hope irradiated his long lank
+face. “Mercy be praised! there’s a last chance for you,” he remarked.
+“Uncle Farnaby may say No.”
+
+“It doesn’t matter what he says,” Amelius rejoined. “She’s old enough to
+choose for herself, he can’t stop the marriage.”
+
+Rufus lifted one wiry yellow forefinger, in a state of perpendicular
+protest. “He cannot stop the marriage,” the sagacious New Englander
+admitted; “but he can stop the money, my son. Find out how you stand
+with him before another day is over your head.”
+
+“I can’t go to him this evening.” said Amelius; “he dines out.”
+
+“Where is he now?”
+
+“At his place of business.”
+
+“Fix him at his place of business. Right away!” cried Rufus, springing
+with sudden energy to his feet.
+
+“I don’t think he would like it,” Amelius objected. “He’s not a very
+pleasant fellow, anywhere; but he’s particularly disagreeable at his
+place of business.”
+
+Rufus walked to the window, and looked out. The objections to Mr.
+Farnaby appeared to fail, so far, in interesting him.
+
+“To put it plainly,” Amelius went on, “there’s something about him that
+I can’t endure. And--though he’s very civil to me, in his way--I
+don’t think he has ever got over the discovery that I am a Christian
+Socialist.”
+
+Rufus abruptly turned round from the window, and became attentive again.
+“So you told him that--did you?” he said.
+
+“Of course!” Amelius rejoined, sharply. “Do you suppose I am ashamed of
+the principles in which I have been brought up?”
+
+“You don’t care, I reckon, if all the world knows your principles,
+persisted Rufus, deliberately leading him on.
+
+“Care?” Amelius reiterated. “I only wish I had all the world to listen
+to me. They should hear of my principles, with no bated breath, I
+promise you!”
+
+There was a pause. Rufus turned back again to the window. “When
+Farnaby’s at home, where does he live?” he asked suddenly--still keeping
+his face towards the street.
+
+Amelius mentioned the address. “You don’t mean that you are going to
+call there?” he inquired, with some anxiety.
+
+“Well, I reckoned I might catch him before dinner-time. You seem to be
+sort of feared to speak to him yourself. I’m your friend, Amelius--and
+I’ll speak for you.”
+
+The bare idea of the interview struck Amelius with terror. “No, no!” he
+said. “I’m much obliged to you, Rufus. But in a matter of this sort, I
+shouldn’t like to transfer the responsibility to my friend. I’ll speak
+to Mr. Farnaby in a day or two.”
+
+Rufus was evidently not satisfied with this. “I do suppose, now,”
+ he suggested, “you’re not the only man moving in this metropolis
+who fancies Miss Regina. Query, my son: if you put off Farnaby much
+longer--” He paused and looked at Amelius. “Ah,” he said, “I reckon I
+needn’t enlarge further: there _is_ another man. Well, it’s the same
+in my country; I don’t know what he does, with You: he always turns up,
+with Us, just at the time when you least want to see him.”
+
+There _was_ another man--an older and a richer man than Amelius; equally
+assiduous in his attentions to the aunt and to the niece; submissively
+polite to his favoured young rival. He was the sort of person, in age
+and in temperament, who would be perfectly capable of advancing his own
+interests by means of the hostile influence of Mrs. Farnaby. Who could
+say what the result might be if, by some unlucky accident, he made the
+attempt before Amelius had secured for himself the support of the master
+of the house? In his present condition of nervous irritability, he was
+ready to believe in any coincidence of the disastrous sort. The wealthy
+rival was a man of business, a near city neighbour of Mr. Farnaby. They
+might be together at that moment; and Regina’s fidelity to her lover
+might be put to a harder test than she was prepared to endure. Amelius
+remembered the gentle conciliatory smile (too gentle by half) with which
+his placid mistress had received his first kisses--and, without stopping
+to weigh conclusions, snatched up his hat. “Wait here for me, Rufus,
+like a good fellow. I’m off to the stationer’s shop.” With those parting
+words, he hurried out of the room.
+
+Left by himself, Rufus began to rummage the pockets of his frockcoat--a
+long, loose, and dingy garment which had become friendly and comfortable
+to him by dint of ancient use. Producing a handful of correspondence,
+he selected the largest envelope of all; shook out on the table several
+smaller letters enclosed; picked one out of the number; and read the
+concluding paragraph only, with the closest attention.
+
+“I enclose letters of introduction to the secretaries of literary
+institutions in London, and in some of the principal cities of England.
+If you feel disposed to lecture yourself, or if you can persuade friends
+and citizens known to you to do so, I believe it may be in your power to
+advance in this way the interests of our Bureau. Please take notice
+that the more advanced institutions, which are ready to countenance and
+welcome free thought in religion, politics, and morals, are marked on
+the envelopes with a cross in red ink. The envelopes without a mark are
+addressed to platforms on which the customary British prejudices remain
+rampant, and in which the charge for places reaches a higher figure than
+can be as yet obtained in the sanctuaries of free thought.”
+
+Rufus laid down the letter, and, choosing one among the envelopes marked
+in red ink, looked at the introduction enclosed. “If the right sort of
+invitation reached Amelius from this institution,” he thought, “the
+boy would lecture on Christian Socialism with all his heart and soul. I
+wonder what the brown miss and her uncle would say to that?”
+
+He smiled to himself, and put the letter back in the envelope, and
+considered the subject for a while. Below the odd rough surface, he
+was a man in ten thousand; no more single-hearted and more affectionate
+creature ever breathed the breath of life. He had not been understood in
+his own little circle; there had been a want of sympathy with him,
+and even a want of knowledge of him, at home. Amelius, popular with
+everybody, had touched the great heart of this man. He perceived the
+peril that lay hidden under the strange and lonely position of his
+fellow-voyager--so innocent in the ways of the world, so young and so
+easily impressed His fondness for Amelius, it is hardly too much to say,
+was the fondness of a father for a son. With a sigh, he shook his head,
+and gathered up his letters, and put them back in his pockets. “No, not
+yet,” he decided. “The poor boy really loves her; and the girl may be
+good enough to make the happiness of his life.” He got up and walked
+about the room. Suddenly he stopped, struck by a new idea. “Why
+shouldn’t I judge for myself?” he thought. “I’ve got the address--I
+reckon I’ll look in on the Farnabys, in a friendly way.”
+
+He sat down at the desk, and wrote a line, in the event of Amelius being
+the first to return to the lodgings:
+
+
+DEAR BOY,
+
+“I don’t find her photograph tells me quite so much as I want to know.
+I have a mind to see the living original. Being your friend, you know,
+it’s only civil to pay my respects to the family. Expect my unbiased
+opinion when I come back.
+
+“Yours,
+
+“RUFUS.”
+
+
+Having enclosed and addressed these lines, he took up his greatcoat--and
+checked himself in the act of putting it on. The brown miss was a
+British miss. A strange New Englander had better be careful of his
+personal appearance, before he ventured into her presence. Urged by this
+cautious motive, he approached the looking-glass, and surveyed himself
+critically.
+
+“I doubt I might be the better,” it occurred to him, “if I brushed my
+hair, and smelt a little of perfume. Yes. I’ll make a toilet. Where’s
+the boy’s bedroom, I wonder?”
+
+He observed a second door in the sitting-room, and opened it at hazard.
+Fortune had befriended him, so far: he found himself in his young
+friend’s bedchamber.
+
+The toilet of Amelius, simple as it was, had its mysteries for Rufus.
+He was at a loss among the perfumes. They were all contained in a
+modest little dressing case, without labels of any sort to describe the
+contents of the pots and bottles. He examined them one after another,
+and stopped at some recently invented French shaving-cream. “It smells
+lovely,” he said, assuming it to be some rare pomatum. “Just what I
+want, it seems, for my head.” He rubbed the shaving cream into his
+bristly iron-gray hair, until his arms ached. When he had next sprinkled
+his handkerchief and himself profusely, first with rose water, and then
+(to make quite sure) with eau-de-cologne used as a climax, he felt that
+he was in a position to appeal agreeably to the senses of the softer
+sex. In five minutes more, he was on his way to Mr. Farnaby’s private
+residence.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 2
+
+The rain that had begun with the morning still poured on steadily in the
+afternoon. After one look out of the window, Regina decided on passing
+the rest of the day luxuriously, in the company of a novel, by her own
+fireside. With her feet on the tender, and her head on the soft cushion
+of her favourite easy-chair, she opened the book. Having read the first
+chapter and part of the second, she was just lazily turning over the
+leaves in search of a love scene, when her languid interest in the novel
+was suddenly diverted to an incident in real life. The sitting-room door
+was gently opened, and her maid appeared in a state of modest confusion.
+
+“If you please, miss, here’s a strange gentleman who comes from Mr.
+Goldenheart. He wishes particularly to say--”
+
+She paused, and looked behind her. A faint and curious smell of mingled
+soap and scent entered the room, followed closely by a tall, calm,
+shabbily-dressed man, who laid a wiry yellow hand on the maid’s
+shoulder, and stopped her effectually before she could say a word more.
+
+“Don’t you think of troubling yourself to git through with it, my
+dear; I’m here, and I’ll finish for you.” Addressing the maid in
+these encouraging terms, the stranger advanced to Regina, and actually
+attempted to shake hands with her! Regina rose--and looked at him.
+It was a look that ought to have daunted the boldest man living; it
+produced no sort of effect on _this_ man. He still held out his hand;
+his lean face broadened with a pleasant smile. “My name is Rufus
+Dingwell,” he said. “I come from Coolspring, Mass.; and Amelius is my
+introduction to yourself and family.”
+
+Regina silently acknowledged this information by a frigid bow, and
+addressed herself to the maid, waiting at the door: “Don’t leave the
+room, Phoebe.”
+
+Rufus, inwardly wondering what Phoebe was wanted for, proceeded to
+express the cordial sentiments proper to the occasion. “I have heard
+about you, miss; and I take pleasure in making your acquaintance.”
+
+The unwritten laws of politeness obliged Regina to say something. “I
+have not heard Mr. Goldenheart mention your name,” she remarked. “Are
+you an old friend of his?”
+
+Rufus explained with genial alacrity. “We crossed the Pond together,
+miss. I like the boy; he’s bright and spry; he refreshes me--he does. We
+go ahead with most things in my country; and friendship’s one of them.
+How _do_ you find yourself? Won’t you shake hands?” He took her
+hand, without waiting to be repelled this time, and shook it with the
+heartiest good-will.
+
+Regina shuddered faintly: she summoned assistance in case of further
+familiarity. “Phoebe, tell my aunt.”
+
+Rufus added a message on his own account. “And say this, my dear. I
+sincerely desire to make the acquaintance of Miss Regina’s aunt, and any
+other members of the family circle.”
+
+Phoebe left the room, smiling. Such an amusing visitor as this was
+a rare person in Mr. Farnaby’s house. Rufus looked after her, with
+unconcealed approval. The maid appeared to be more to his taste than
+the mistress. “Well, that’s a pretty creature, I do declare,” he said
+to Regina. “Reminds me of our American girls--slim in the waist, and
+carries her head nicely. How old may she be, now?”
+
+Regina expressed her opinion of this familiar question by pointing, with
+silent dignity, to a chair.
+
+“Thank you, miss; not that one,” said Rufus. “You see, I’m long in the
+legs, and if I once got down as low as that, I reckon I should have to
+restore the balance by putting my feet up on the grate; and that’s not
+manners in Great Britain--and quite right too.”
+
+He picked out the highest chair he could find, and admired the
+workmanship as he drew it up to the fireplace. “Most sumptuous and
+elegant,” he said. “The style of the Re_nay_sance, as they call it.”
+ Regina observed with dismay that he had not got his hat in his hand like
+other visitors. He had left it no doubt in the hall; he looked as if he
+had dropped in to spend the day, and stay to dinner.
+
+“Well, miss, I’ve seen your photograph,” he resumed; “and I don’t
+much approve of it, now I see You. My sentiments are not altogether
+favourable to that art. I delivered a lecture on photographic
+portraiture at Coolspring; and I described it briefly as justice without
+mercy. The audience took the idea; they larfed, they did. Larfin’
+reminds me of Amelius. Do you object to his being a Christian Socialist,
+miss?”
+
+The young lady’s look, when she answered the question, was not lost on
+Rufus. He registered it, mentally, in case of need. “Amelius will soon
+get over all that nonsense,” she said, “when he has been a little longer
+in London.”
+
+“Possible,” Rufus admitted. “The boy is fond of you. Yes: he loves you.
+I have noticed him, and I can certify to that. I may also remark that he
+wants a deal of love in return. No doubt, miss, you have observed that
+circumstance yourself?”
+
+Regina resented this last inquiry as an outrage on propriety. “What next
+will he say?” she thought to herself. “I must put this presuming man in
+his proper place.” She darted another annihilating look at him, as she
+spoke in her turn. “May I ask, Mr.--Mr.----?”
+
+“Dingwell,” said Rufus, prompting her.
+
+“May I ask, Mr. Dingwell, if you have favoured me by calling here at the
+request of Mr. Goldenheart?”
+
+Genial and simple-minded as he was, eagerly as he desired to appreciate
+at her full value the young lady who was one day to be the wife of
+Amelius, Rufus felt the tone in which those words were spoken. It was
+not easy to stimulate his modest sense of what was fairly due to him
+into asserting itself, but the cold distrust, the deliberate distance
+of Regina’s manner, exhausted the long-suffering indulgence of this
+singularly patient man. “The Lord, in his mercy, preserve Amelius from
+marrying You,” he thought, as he rose from his chair, and advanced with
+a certain simple dignity to take leave of her.
+
+“It did not occur to me, miss, to pay my respects to you, till Amelius
+and I had parted company,” he said. “Please to excuse me. I should have
+been welcome, in my country, with no better introduction than being (as
+I may say) his friend and well-wisher. If I have made a mistake--”
+
+He stopped. Regina had suddenly changed colour. Instead of looking at
+him, she was looking over his shoulder, apparently at something behind
+him. He turned to see what it was. A lady, short and stout, with strange
+wild sorrowful eyes, had noiselessly entered the room while he was
+speaking: she was waiting, as it seemed, until he had finished what he
+had to say. When they confronted each other, she moved to meet him, with
+a firm heavy step, and with her hand held out in token of welcome.
+
+“You may feel equally sure, sir, of a friendly reception here,” she
+said, in her steady self-possessed way. “I am this young lady’s aunt;
+and I am glad to see the friend of Amelius in my house.” Before Rufus
+could answer, she turned to Regina. “I waited,” she went on, “to give
+you an opportunity of explaining yourself to this gentleman. I am afraid
+he has mistaken your coldness of manner for intentional rudeness.”
+
+The colour rushed back into Regina’s face--she vibrated for a moment
+between anger and tears. But the better nature in her broke its way
+through the constitutional shyness and restraint which habitually kept
+it down. “I meant no harm, sir,” she said, raising her large beautiful
+eyes submissively to Rufus; “I am not used to receiving strangers. And
+you did ask me some very strange questions,” she added, with a sudden
+burst of self-assertion. “Strangers are not in the habit of saying
+such things in England.” She looked at Mrs. Farnaby, listening with
+impenetrable composure, and stopped in confusion. Her aunt would not
+scruple to speak to the stranger about Amelius in her presence--there
+was no knowing what she might not have to endure. She turned again to
+Rufus. “Excuse me,” she said, “if I leave you with my aunt--I have an
+engagement.” With that trivial apology, she made her escape from the
+room.
+
+“She has no engagement,” Mrs. Farnaby briefly remarked as the door
+closed. “Sit down, sir.”
+
+For once, even Rufus was not as his ease. “I can hit it off, ma’am, with
+most people,” he said. “I wonder what I’ve done to offend your niece?”
+
+“My niece (with many good qualities) is a narrow-minded young woman,”
+ Mrs. Farnaby explained. “You are not like the men she is accustomed to
+see. She doesn’t understand you--you are not a commonplace gentleman.
+For instance,” Mrs. Farnaby continued, with the matter-of-fact gravity
+of a woman innately inaccessible to a sense of humour, “you have got
+something strange on your hair. It seems to be melting, and it
+smells like soap. No: it’s no use taking out your handkerchief--your
+handkerchief won’t mop it up. I’ll get a towel.” She opened an inner
+door, which disclosed a little passage, and a bath-room beyond it. “I’m
+the strongest person in the house,” she resumed, returning with a towel
+in her hand, as gravely as ever. “Sit still, and don’t make apologies.
+If any of us can rub you dry, I’m the woman.” She set to work with the
+towel, as if she had been Rufus’s mother, making him presentable in the
+days of his boyhood. Giddy under the violence of the rubbing, staggered
+by the contrast between the cold reception accorded to him by the niece,
+and the more than friendly welcome offered by the aunt, Rufus submitted
+to circumstances in docile and silent bewilderment. “There; you’ll do
+till you get home--nobody can laugh at you now,” Mrs. Farnaby announced.
+“You’re an absent-minded man, I suppose? You wanted to wash your head,
+and you forgot the warm water and the towel. Was that how it happened,
+sir?”
+
+“I thank you with all my heart, ma’am; I took it for pomatum,” Rufus
+answered. “Would you object to shaking hands again? This cordial welcome
+of yours reminds me, I do assure you, of home. Since I left New England,
+I’ve never met with the like of you. I do suppose now it was my hair
+that set Miss Regina’s back up? I’m not quite easy in my mind, ma’am,
+about your niece. I’m sort of feared of what she may say of me to
+Amelius. I meant no harm, Lord knows.”
+
+The secret of Mrs. Farnaby’s extraordinary alacrity in the use of the
+towel began slowly to show itself now. The tone of her American guest
+had already become the friendly and familiar tone which it had been
+her object to establish. With a little management, he might be made an
+invaluable ally in the great work of hindering the marriage of Amelius.
+
+“You are very fond of your young friend?” she began quietly.
+
+“That is so, ma’am.”
+
+“And he has told you that he has taken a liking to my niece?”
+
+“And shown me her likeness,” Rufus added.
+
+“And shown you her likeness. And you thought you would come here, and
+see for yourself what sort of girl she was?”
+
+“Naturally,” Rufus admitted.
+
+Mrs. Farnaby revealed, without further hesitation, the object that she
+had in view. “Amelius is little more than a lad, still,” she said. “He
+has got all his life before him. It would be a sad thing, if he married
+a girl who didn’t make him happy.” She turned in her chair, and pointed
+to the door by which Regina had left them. “Between ourselves,” she
+resumed, dropping her voice to a whisper, “do you believe my niece will
+make him happy?”
+
+Rufus hesitated.
+
+“I’m above family prejudices,” Mrs. Farnaby proceeded. “You needn’t be
+afraid of offending me. Speak out.”
+
+Rufus would have spoken out to any other woman in the universe. _This_
+woman had preserved him from ridicule--_this_ woman had rubbed his head
+dry. He prevaricated.
+
+“I don’t suppose I understand the ladies in this country,” he said.
+
+But Mrs. Farnaby was not to be trifled with. “If Amelius was your son,
+and if he asked you to consent to his marriage with my niece,” she
+rejoined, “would you say Yes?”
+
+This was too much for Rufus. “Not if he went down on both his knees to
+ask me,” he answered.
+
+Mrs. Farnaby was satisfied at last, and owned it without reserve. “My
+own opinion,” she said, “exactly expressed! don’t be surprised. Didn’t I
+tell you I had no family prejudices? Do you know if he has spoken to my
+husband, yet?”
+
+Rufus looked at his watch. “I reckon he’s just about done it by this
+time.”
+
+Mrs. Farnaby paused, and reflected for a moment. She had already
+attempted to prejudice her husband against Amelius, and had received
+an answer which Mr. Farnaby considered to be final. “Mr. Goldenheart
+honours us if he seeks our alliance; he is the representative of an old
+English family.” Under these circumstances, it was quite possible that
+the proposals of Amelius had been accepted. Mrs. Farnaby was not the
+less determined that the marriage should never take place, and not the
+less eager to secure the assistance of her new ally. “When will Amelius
+tell you about it?” she asked.
+
+“When I go back to his lodgings, ma’am.”
+
+“Go back at once--and bear this in mind as you go. If you can find out
+any likely way of parting these two young people (in their own best
+interests), depend on one thing--if I can help you, I will. I’m as fond
+of Amelius as you are. Ask him if I haven’t done my best to keep him
+away from my niece. Ask him if I haven’t expressed my opinion, that
+she’s not the right wife for him. Come and see me again as soon as you
+like. I’m fond of Americans. Good morning.”
+
+Rufus attempted to express his sense of gratitude, in his own briefly
+eloquent way. He was not allowed a hearing. With one and the same
+action, Mrs. Farnaby patted him on the shoulder, and pushed him out of
+the room.
+
+“If that woman was an American citizen,” Rufus reflected, on his way
+through the streets, “she’d be the first female President of the
+United States!” His admiration of Mrs. Farnaby’s energy and resolution,
+expressed in these strong terms, acknowledged but one limit. Highly as
+he approved of her, there was nevertheless an unfathomable something in
+the woman’s eyes that disturbed and daunted him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 3
+
+Rufus found his friend at the lodgings, prostrate on the sofa, smoking
+furiously. Before a word had passed between them, it was plain to the
+New Englander that something had gone wrong.
+
+“Well,” he asked; “and what does Farnaby say?”
+
+“Damn Farnaby!”
+
+Rufus was secretly conscious of an immense sense of relief. “I call
+that a stiff way of putting it,” he quietly remarked; “but the meaning’s
+clear. Farnaby has said No.”
+
+Amelius jumped off the sofa, and planted himself defiantly on the
+hearthrug.
+
+“You’re wrong for once,” he said, with a bitter laugh. “The
+exasperating part of it is that Farnaby has said neither Yes nor No.
+The oily-whiskered brute--you haven’t seen him yet, have you?--began
+by saying Yes. ‘A man like me, the heir of a fine old English family,
+honoured him by making proposals; he could wish no more brilliant
+prospect for his dear adopted child. She would fill the high position
+that was offered to her, and fill it worthily.’ That was the fawning
+way in which he talked to me at first! He squeezed my hand in his horrid
+cold shiny paw till, I give you my word of honour, I felt as if I was
+going to be sick. Wait a little; you haven’t heard the worst of it
+yet. He soon altered his tone--it began with his asking me, if I had
+‘considered the question of settlements’. I didn’t know what he meant.
+He had to put it in plain English; he wanted to hear what my property
+was. ‘Oh, that’s soon settled,’ I said. ‘I’ve got five hundred a year;
+and Regina is welcome to every farthing of it.’ He fell back in his
+chair as if I had shot him; he turned--it was worse than pale, he
+positively turned green. At first he wouldn’t believe me; he declared I
+must be joking. I set him right about that immediately. His next change
+was a proud impudence. ‘Have you not observed, sir, in what style Regina
+is accustomed to live in my house? Five hundred a year? Good heavens!
+With strict economy, five hundred a year might pay her milliner’s bill
+and the keep of her horse and carriage. Who is to pay for everything
+else--the establishment, the dinner-parties and balls, the tour abroad,
+the children, the nurses, the doctor? I tell you this, Mr. Goldenheart,
+I’m willing to make a sacrifice to you, as a born gentleman, which I
+would certainly not consent to in the case of any self-made man. Enlarge
+your income, sir, to no more than four times five hundred pounds, and
+I guarantee a yearly allowance to Regina of half as much again, besides
+the fortune which she will inherit at my death. That will make your
+income three thousand a year to start with. I know something of domestic
+expenses, and I tell you positively, you can’t do it on a farthing
+less.’ That was his language, Rufus. The insolence of his tone I can’t
+attempt to describe. If I hadn’t thought of Regina, I should have
+behaved in a manner unworthy of a Christian--I believe I should have
+taken my walking-cane, and given him a sound thrashing.”
+
+Rufus neither expressed surprise nor offered advice. He was lost in
+meditation on the wealth of Mr. Farnaby. “A stationer’s business seems
+to eventuate in a lively profit, in this country,” he said.
+
+“A stationer’s business?” Amelius repeated disdainfully. “Farnaby has
+half a dozen irons in the fire besides that. He’s got a newspaper, and a
+patent medicine, and a new bank, and I don’t know what else. One of his
+own friends said to me, ‘Nobody knows whether Farnaby is rich or poor;
+he is going to do one of two things--he is going to die worth millions,
+or to die bankrupt.’ Oh, if I can only live to see the day when
+Socialism will put that sort of man in his right place!”
+
+“Try a republic, on our model, first,” said Rufus. “When Farnaby talks
+of the style his young woman is accustomed to live in, what does he
+mean?”
+
+“He means,” Amelius answered smartly, “a carriage to drive out in,
+champagne on the table, and a footman to answer the door.”
+
+“Farnaby’s ideas, sir, have crossed the water and landed in New York,”
+ Rufus remarked. “Well, and what did you say to him, on your side?”
+
+“I gave it to him, I can tell you! ‘That’s all ostentation,’ I said.
+‘Why can’t Regina and I begin life modestly? What do we want with a
+carriage to drive out in, and champagne on the table, and a footman
+to answer the door? We want to love each other and be happy. There
+are thousands of as good gentlemen as I am, in England, with wives
+and families, who would ask for nothing better than an income of five
+hundred a year. The fact is, Mr. Farnaby, you’re positively saturated
+with the love of money. Get your New Testament and read what Christ
+says of rich people.’ What do you think he did, when I put it in that
+unanswerable way? He held up his hand, and looked horrified. ‘I can’t
+allow profanity in my office,’ says he. ‘I have my New Testament read to
+me in church, sir, every Sunday.’ That’s the sort of Christian, Rufus,
+who is the average product of modern times! He was as obstinate as a
+mule; he wouldn’t give way a single inch. His adopted daughter, he said,
+was accustomed to live in a certain style. In that same style she should
+live when she was married, so long as he had a voice in the matter.
+Of course, if she chose to set his wishes and feelings at defiance, in
+return for all that he had done for her, she was old enough to take her
+own way. In that case, he would tell me as plainly as he meant to tell
+her, that she must not look to a single farthing of his money to help
+her, and not expect to find her name down in his will. He felt the
+honour of a family alliance with me as sincerely as ever. But he must
+abide by the conditions that he had stated. On those terms, he would be
+proud to give me the hand of Regina at the altar, and proud to feel that
+he had done his duty by his adopted child. I let him go on till he had
+run himself out--and then I asked quietly, if he could tell me the
+way to increase my income to two thousand a year. How do you think he
+answered me?”
+
+“Perhaps he offered to utilise your capital in his business,” Rufus
+guessed.
+
+“Not he! He considered business quite beneath me; my duty to myself,
+as a gentleman, was to adopt a profession. On reflection, it turned out
+that there was but one likely profession to try, in my case--the Law.
+I might be called to the Bar, and (with luck) I might get remunerative
+work to do, in eight or ten years’ time. That, I declare to you, was the
+prospect he set before me, if I chose to take his advice. I asked if
+he was joking. Certainly not! I was only one-and-twenty years old (he
+reminded me); I had plenty of time to spare--I should still marry young
+if I married at thirty. I took up my hat, and gave him a bit of my mind
+at parting. ‘If you really mean anything,’ I said, ‘you mean that Regina
+is to pine and fade and be a middle-aged woman, and that I am to resist
+the temptations that beset a young man in London, and lead the life of
+a monk for the next ten years--and all for what? For a carriage to ride
+out in, champagne on the table, and a footman to answer the door! Keep
+your money, Mr. Farnaby; Regina and I will do without it.’--What are
+you laughing at? I don’t think you could have put it more strongly
+yourself.”
+
+Rufus suddenly recovered his gravity. “I tell you this, Amelius,”
+ he replied; “you afford (as we say in my country) meaty fruit for
+reflection--you do.”
+
+“What do you mean by that?”
+
+“Well, I reckon you remember when we were aboard the boat. You gave us a
+narrative of what happened in that Community of yours, which I can truly
+cha_rac_terise as a combination of native eloquence and chastening
+good sense. I put the question to myself, sir, what has become of that
+well-informed and discreet young Christian, now he has changed the
+sphere to England and mixed with the Farnabys? It’s not to be denied
+that I see him before me in the flesh when I look across the table here;
+but it’s equally true that I miss him altogether, in the spirit.”
+
+Amelius sat down again on the sofa. “In plain words,” he said, “you
+think I have behaved like a fool in this matter?”
+
+Rufus crossed his long legs, and nodded his head in silent approval.
+Instead of taking offence, Amelius considered a little.
+
+“It didn’t strike me before,” he said. “But, now you mention it, I can
+understand that I appear to be a simple sort of fellow in what is called
+Society here; and the reason, I suspect, is that it’s not the society in
+which I have been accustomed to mix. The Farnabys are new to me, Rufus.
+When it comes to a question of my life at Tadmor, of what I saw and
+learnt and felt in the Community--then, I can think and speak like a
+reasonable being, because I am thinking and speaking of what I know
+thoroughly well. Hang it, make some allowance for the difference of
+circumstances! Besides, I’m in love, and that alters a man--and, I have
+heard some people say, not always for the better. Anyhow, I’ve done it
+with Farnaby, and it can’t be undone. There will be no peace for me now,
+till I have spoken to Regina. I have read the note you left for me. Did
+you see her, when you called at the house?”
+
+The quiet tone in which the question was put surprised Rufus. He had
+fully expected, after Regina’s reception of him, to be called to account
+for the liberty that he had taken. Amelius was too completely absorbed
+by his present anxieties to consider trivial questions of etiquette.
+Hearing that Rufus had seen Regina, he never even asked for his friend’s
+opinion of her. His mind was full of the obstacles that might be
+interposed to his seeing her again.
+
+“Farnaby is sure, after what has passed between us, to keep her out
+of my way if he can,” Amelius said. “And Mrs. Farnaby, to my certain
+knowledge, will help him. They don’t suspect _you._ Couldn’t you call
+again--you’re old enough to be her father--and make some excuse to take
+her out with you for a walk?”
+
+The answer of Rufus to this was Roman in its brevity. He pointed to the
+window, and said, “Look at the rain.”
+
+“Then I must try her maid once more,” said Amelius, resignedly. He took
+his hat and umbrella. “Don’t leave me, old fellow,” he resumed as he
+opened the door. “This is the turning-point of my life. I’m sorely in
+need of a friend.”
+
+“Do you think she will marry you against the will of her uncle and
+aunt?” Rufus asked.
+
+“I am certain of it,” Amelius answered. With that he left the room.
+
+Rufus looked after him sadly. Sympathy and sorrow were expressed in
+every line of his rugged face. “My poor boy! how will he bear it, if she
+says No? What will become of him, if she says Yes?” He rubbed his
+hand irritably across his forehead, like a man whose own thoughts were
+repellent to him. In a moment more, he plunged into his pockets, and
+drew out again the letters introducing him to the secretaries of public
+institutions. “If there’s salvation for Amelius,” he said, “I reckon I
+shall find it here.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 4
+
+The medium of correspondence between Amelius and Regina’s maid was an
+old woman who kept a shop for the sale of newspapers and periodicals,
+in a by-street not far from Mr. Farnaby’s house. From this place
+his letters were delivered to the maid, under cover of the morning
+newspapers--and here he found the answers waiting for him later in the
+day. “If Rufus could only have taken her out for a walk, I might have
+seen Regina this afternoon,” thought Amelius. “As it is, I may have to
+wait till to-morrow, or later still. And then, there’s the sovereign to
+Phoebe.” He sighed as he thought of the fee. Sovereigns were becoming
+scarce in our young Socialist’s purse.
+
+Arriving in sight of the newsvendor’s shop, Amelius noticed a man
+leaving it, who walked away towards the farther end of the street. When
+he entered the shop himself a minute afterwards, the woman took up a
+letter from the counter. “A young man has just left this for you,” she
+said.
+
+Amelius recognised the maid’s handwriting on the address. The man whom
+he had seen leaving the shop was Phoebe’s messenger.
+
+He opened the letter. Her mistress, Phoebe explained, was too much
+flurried to be able to write. The master had astonished the whole
+household by appearing among them at least three hours before the time
+at which he was accustomed to leave his place of business. He had found
+“Mrs. Ormond” (otherwise Regina’s friend and correspondent, Cecilia)
+paying a visit to his niece, and had asked to speak with her in private,
+before she took leave. The result was an invitation to Regina, from Mrs.
+Ormond, to stay for a little while at her house in the neighbourhood
+of Harrow. The ladies were to leave London together, in Mrs. Ormond’s
+carriage, that afternoon. Under stress of strong persuasion, on the part
+of her uncle and aunt as well as her friend, Regina had ended in giving
+way. But she had not forgotten the interests of Amelius. She was willing
+to see him privately on the next day, provided he left London by the
+train which reached Harrow soon after eleven in the forenoon. If it
+happened to rain, then he must put off his journey until the first fine
+day, arriving in any case at the same hour. The place at which he was to
+wait was described to him; and with these instructions the letter ended.
+
+The rapidity with which Mr. Farnaby had carried out his resolution to
+separate the lovers placed the weakness of Regina’s character before
+Amelius in a new and startling light. Why had she not stood on her
+privileges, as a woman who had arrived at years of discretion, and
+refused to leave London until she had first heard what her lover had to
+say? Amelius had left his American friend, feeling sure that Regina’s
+decision would be in his favour, when she was called upon to choose
+between the man who was ready to marry her, and the man who was nothing
+but her uncle by courtesy. For the first time, he now felt that his
+own confident anticipations might, by bare possibility, deceive him.
+He returned to his lodgings, in such a state of depression, that
+compassionate Rufus insisted on taking him out to dinner, and hurried
+him off afterwards to the play. Thoroughly prostrated, Amelius submitted
+to the genial influence of his friend. He had not even energy enough
+to feel surprised when Rufus stopped, on their way to the tavern, at a
+dingy building adorned with a Grecian portico, and left a letter and a
+card in charge of a servant at the side-door.
+
+The next day, by a happy interposition of Fortune, proved to be a day
+without rain. Amelius followed his instructions to the letter. A little
+watery sunshine showed itself as he left the station at Harrow. His mind
+was still in such a state of doubt and disturbance that it drew from
+superstition a faint encouragement to hope. He hailed the feeble
+November sunlight as a good omen.
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Ormond’s place of residence stood alone, surrounded by its
+own grounds. A wooden fence separated the property, on one side, from a
+muddy little by-road, leading to a neighbouring farm. At a wicket-gate
+in this fence, giving admission to a shrubbery situated at some distance
+from the house, Amelius now waited for the appearance of the maid.
+
+After a delay of a few minutes only, the faithful Phoebe approached the
+gate with a key in her hand. “Where is she?” Amelius asked, as the girl
+opened the gate for him.
+
+“Waiting for you in the shrubbery. Stop, sir; I have something to say to
+you first.”
+
+Amelius took out his purse, and produced the fee. Even he had observed
+that Phoebe was perhaps a little too eager to get her money!
+
+“Thank you, sir. Please to look at your watch. You mustn’t be with Miss
+Regina a moment longer than a quarter of an hour.”
+
+“Why not?”
+
+“This is the time, sir, when Mrs. Ormond is engaged every day with
+her cook and housekeeper. In a quarter of an hour the orders will be
+given--and Mrs. Ormond will join Miss Regina for a walk in the grounds.
+You will be the ruin of me, sir, if she finds you here.” With that
+warning, the maid led the way along the winding paths of the shrubbery.
+
+“I must thank you for your letter, Phoebe,” said Amelius, as he followed
+her. “By-the-by, who was your messenger?”
+
+Phoebe’s answer was no answer at all. “Only a young man, sir,” she said.
+
+“In plain words, your sweetheart, I suppose?”
+
+Phoebe’s expressive silence was her only reply. She turned a corner, and
+pointed to her mistress standing alone before the entrance of a damp and
+deserted summer-house.
+
+Regina put her handkerchief to her eyes, when the maid had discreetly
+retired. “Oh,” she said softly, “I am afraid this is very wrong.”
+
+Amelius removed the handkerchief by the exercise of a little gentle
+force, and administered comfort under the form of a kiss. Having opened
+the proceedings in this way, he put his first question, “Why did you
+leave London?”
+
+“How could I help it!” said Regina, feebly. “They were all against me.
+What else could I do?”
+
+It occurred to Amelius that she might, at her age, have asserted a will
+of her own. He kept his idea, however, to himself, and, giving her his
+arm, led her slowly along the path of the shrubbery. “You have heard, I
+suppose, what Mr. Farnaby expects of me?” he said.
+
+“Yes, dear.”
+
+_“I_ call it worse than mercenary--I call it downright brutal.”
+
+“Oh, Amelius, don’t talk so!”
+
+Amelius came suddenly to a standstill. “Does that mean you agree with
+him?” he asked.
+
+“Don’t be angry with me, dear. I only meant there was some excuse for
+him.”
+
+“What excuse?”
+
+“Well, you see, he has a high idea of your family, and he thought you
+were rich people. And--I know you didn’t mean it, Amelius--but, still,
+you did disappoint him.”
+
+Amelius dropped her arm. This mildly-persistent defence of Mr. Farnaby
+exasperated him.
+
+“Perhaps I have disappointed _you?”_ he said.
+
+ “Oh, no, no! Oh, how cruel you are!” The ready tears showed themselves
+again in her magnificent eyes--gentle considerate tears that raised
+no storm in her bosom, and produced no unbecoming results in her face.
+“Don’t be hard on me!” she said, appealing to him helplessly, like a
+charming overgrown child.
+
+Some men might have still resisted her; but Amelius was not one of them.
+He took her hand, and pressed it tenderly.
+
+“Regina,” he said, “do you love me?”
+
+“You know I do!”
+
+He put his arm round her waist, he concentrated the passion that was in
+him into a look, and poured the look into her eyes. “Do you love me as
+dearly as I love you?” he whispered.
+
+She felt it with all the little passion that was in her. After a moment
+of hesitation, she put one arm timidly round his neck, and, bending her
+grand head, laid it on his bosom. Her finely-rounded, supple, muscular
+figure trembled, as if she had been the most fragile woman living. “Dear
+Amelius!” she murmured inaudibly. He tried to speak to her--his voice
+failed him. She had, in perfect innocence, fired his young blood. He
+drew her closer and closer to him: he lifted her head, with a masterful
+resolution which she was not able to resist, and pressed his kisses in
+hot and breathless succession on her lips. His vehemence frightened her.
+She tore herself out of his arms with a sudden exertion of strength that
+took him completely by surprise. “I didn’t think you would have been
+rude to me!” With that mild reproach, she turned away, and took the
+path which led from the shrubbery to the house. Amelius followed her,
+entreating that she would accept his excuses and grant him a few minutes
+more. He modestly laid all the blame on her beauty--lamented that he
+had not resolution enough to resist the charm of it. When did that
+commonplace compliment ever fail to produce its effect? Regina smiled
+with the weakly complacent good-nature, which was only saved from being
+contemptible by its association with her personal attractions. “Will
+you promise to behave?” she stipulated. And Amelius, not very eagerly,
+promised.
+
+“Shall we go into the summer-house?” he suggested.
+
+“It’s very damp at this time of year,” Regina answered, with placid good
+sense. “Perhaps we might catch cold--we had better walk about.”
+
+They walked accordingly. “I wanted to speak to you about our marriage,”
+ Amelius resumed.
+
+She sighed softly. “We have some time to wait,” she said, “before we can
+think of that.”
+
+He passed this reply over without notice. “You know,” he went on, “that
+I have an income of five hundred a year?”
+
+“Yes, dear.”
+
+“There are hundreds of thousands of respectable artisans, Regina, (with
+large families), who live comfortably on less than half my income.”
+
+“Do they, dear?”
+
+“And many gentlemen are not better off. Curates, for instance. Do you
+see what I am coming to, my darling?”
+
+“No, dear.”
+
+“Could you live with me in a cottage in the country, with a nice garden,
+and one little maid to wait on us, and two or three new dresses in a
+year?”
+
+Regina lifted her fine eyes in sober ecstasy to the sky. “It sounds very
+tempting,” she remarked, in the sweetest tones of her voice.
+
+“And it could all be done,” Amelius proceeded, “on five hundred a year.”
+
+“Could it, dear?”
+
+“I have calculated it--allowing the necessary margin--and I am sure
+of what I say. And I have done something else; I have asked about the
+Marriage License. I can easily find lodgings in the neighbourhood. We
+might be married at Harrow in a fortnight.”
+
+Regina started: her eyes opened widely, and rested on Amelius with
+an expression of incredulous wonder. “Married in a fortnight?” she
+repeated. “What would my uncle and aunt say?”
+
+“My angel, our happiness doesn’t depend on your uncle and aunt--our
+happiness depends on ourselves. Nobody has any power to control us. I am
+a man, and you are a woman; and we have a right to be married whenever
+we like.” Amelius pronounced this last oracular sentence with his head
+held high, and a pleasant inner persuasion of the convincing manner in
+which he had stated his case.
+
+“Without my uncle to give me away!” Regina exclaimed. “Without my aunt!
+With no bridesmaids, and no friends, and no wedding-breakfast! Oh,
+Amelius, what _can_ you be thinking of?” She drew back a step, and
+looked at him in helpless consternation.
+
+For the moment, and the moment only, Amelius lost all patience with her.
+“If you really loved me,” he said bitterly, “you wouldn’t think of
+the bridesmaids and the breakfast!” Regina had her answer ready in her
+pocket--she took out her handkerchief. Before she could lift it to
+her eyes, Amelius recovered himself. “No, no,” he said, “I didn’t mean
+that--I am sure you love me--take my arm again. Do you know, Regina, I
+doubt whether your uncle has told you everything that passed between us.
+Are you really aware of the hard terms that he insists on? He expects
+me to increase my five hundred a year to two thousand, before he will
+sanction our marriage.”
+
+“Yes, dear, he told me that.”
+
+“I have as much chance of earning fifteen hundred a year, Regina, as I
+have of being made King of England. Did he tell you _that?”_
+
+“He doesn’t agree with you, dear--he thinks you might earn it (with your
+abilities) in ten years.”
+
+This time it was the turn of Amelius to look at Regina in helpless
+consternation. “Ten years?” he repeated. “Do you coolly contemplate
+waiting ten years before we are married? Good heavens! is it possible
+that you are thinking of the money? that _you_ can’t live without
+carriages and footmen, and ostentation and grandeur--?”
+
+He stopped. For once, even Regina showed that she had spirit enough to
+be angry. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself to speak to me in that
+way!” she broke out indignantly. “If you have no better opinion of me
+than that, I won’t marry you at all--no, not if you had fifty thousand a
+year, sir, to-morrow! Am I to have no sense of duty to my uncle--to
+the good man who has been a second father to me? Do you think I am
+ungrateful enough to set his wishes at defiance? Oh yes, I know you
+don’t like him! I know that a great many people don’t like him. That
+doesn’t make any difference to Me! But for dear uncle Farnaby, I might
+have gone to the workhouse, I might have been a starving needlewoman, a
+poor persecuted maid-of-all-work. Am I to forget that, because you have
+no patience, and only think of yourself? Oh, I wish I had never met with
+you! I wish I had never been fool enough to be as fond of you as I am!”
+ With that confession, she turned her back on him, and took refuge in her
+handkerchief once more.
+
+Amelius stood looking at her in silent despair. After the tone in
+which she had spoken of her obligations to her uncle, it was useless to
+anticipate any satisfactory result from the exertion of his influence
+over Regina. Recalling what he had seen and heard, in Mrs. Farnaby’s
+room, Amelius could not doubt that the motive of pacifying his wife was
+the motive which had first led Farnaby to receive Regina into his house.
+Was it unreasonable or unjust to infer, that the orphan child must have
+been mainly indebted to Mrs. Farnaby’s sense of duty to the memory of
+her sister for the parental protection afforded to her, from that time
+forth? It would have been useless, and worse than useless, to place
+before Regina such considerations as these. Her exaggerated idea of the
+gratitude that she owed to her uncle was beyond the limited reach of
+reason. Nothing was to be gained by opposition; and no sensible course
+was left but to say some peace-making words and submit.
+
+“I beg your pardon, Regina, if I have offended you. You have sadly
+disappointed me. I haven’t deliberately misjudged you; I can say no
+more.”
+
+She turned round quickly, and looked at him. There was an ominous
+change to resignation in his voice, there was a dogged submission in
+his manner, that alarmed her. She had never yet seen him under the
+perilously-patient aspect in which he now presented himself, after his
+apology had been made.
+
+“I forgive you, Amelius, with all my heart,” she said--and timidly held
+out her hand.
+
+He took it, raised it silently to his lips, and dropped it again.
+
+She suddenly turned pale. All the love that she had in her to give to
+a man, she had given to Amelius. Her heart sank; she asked herself, in
+blank terror, if she had lost him.
+
+“I am afraid it is _I_ who have offended _you,”_ she said. “Don’t be
+angry with me, Amelius! don’t make me more unhappy than I am!”
+
+“I am not in the least angry,” he answered, still in the quiet subdued
+way that terrified her. “You can’t expect me, Regina, to contemplate a
+ten years’ engagement cheerfully.”
+
+She took his hand, and held it in both her own hands--held it, as if his
+love for her was there and she was determined not to let it go.
+
+“If you will only leave it to me,” she pleaded, “the engagement shan’t
+be so long as that. Try my uncle with a little kindness and respect,
+Amelius, instead of saying hard words to him. Or let _me_ try him, if
+you are too proud to give way. May I say that you had no intention of
+offending him, and that you are willing to leave the future to me?”
+
+“Certainly,” said Amelius, “if you think it will be of the slightest
+use.” His tone added plainly, “I don’t believe in your uncle, mind, as
+you do.”
+
+She still persisted. “It will be of the greatest use,” she went on. “He
+will let me go home again, and he will not object to your coming to see
+me. He doesn’t like to be despised and set at defiance--who does? Be
+patient, Amelius; and I will persuade him to expect less money from
+you--only what you may earn, dear, with your talents, long before ten
+years have passed.” She waited for a word of reply which might show that
+she had encouraged him a little. He only smiled. “You talk of loving
+me,” she said, drawing back from him with a look of reproach; “and you
+don’t even believe what I say to you.” She stopped, and looked behind
+her with a faint cry of alarm. Hurried footsteps were audible on the
+other side of the evergreens that screened them. Amelius stepped back to
+a turn in the path, and discovered Phoebe.
+
+“Don’t stay a moment longer, sir!” cried the girl. “I’ve been to the
+house--and Mrs. Ormond isn’t there--and nobody knows where she is. Get
+out by the gate, sir, while you have the chance.”
+
+Amelius returned to Regina. “I mustn’t get the girl into a scrape,” he
+said. “You know where to write to me. Good-bye.”
+
+Regina made a sign to the maid to retire. Amelius had never taken leave
+of her as he was taking leave of her now. She forgot the fervent embrace
+and the daring kisses--she was desperate at the bare idea of losing him.
+“Oh, Amelius, don’t doubt that I love you! Say you believe I love you!
+Kiss me before you go!”
+
+He kissed her--but, ah, not as he had kissed her before. He said the
+words she wanted him to say--but only to please her, not with all his
+heart. She let him go; reproaches would be wasted at that moment.
+
+Phoebe found her pale and immovable, rooted to the spot on which they
+had parted. “Dear, dear me, miss, what’s gone wrong?”
+
+And her mistress answered wildly, in words that had never before passed
+her placid lips, “O Phoebe, I wish I was dead!”
+
+
+Such was the impression left on the mind of Regina by the interview in
+the shrubbery.
+
+The impression left on the mind of Amelius was stated in equally strong
+language, later in the day. His American friend asked innocently for
+news, and was answered in these terms:
+
+“Find something to occupy my mind, Rufus, or I shall throw the whole
+thing over and go to the devil.”
+
+The wise man from New England was too wise to trouble Amelius with
+questions, under these circumstances. “Is that so?” was all he said.
+Then he put his hand in his pocket, and, producing a letter, laid it
+quietly on the table.
+
+“For me?” Amelius asked.
+
+“You wanted something to occupy your mind,” the wily Rufus answered.
+“There ‘tis.”
+
+Amelius read the letter. It was dated, “Hampden Institution.” The
+secretary invited Amelius, in highly complimentary terms, to lecture,
+in the hall of the Institution, on Christian Socialism as taught and
+practised in the Community at Tadmor. He was offered two-thirds of the
+profits derived from the sale of places, and was left free to
+appoint his own evening (at a week’s notice) and to issue his own
+advertisements. Minor details were reserved to be discussed with the
+secretary, when the lecturer had consented to the arrangement proposed
+to him.
+
+Having finished the letter, Amelius looked at his friend. “This is your
+doing,” he said.
+
+Rufus admitted it, with his customary candour. He had a letter of
+introduction to the secretary, and he had called by appointment that
+morning. The Institution wanted something new to attract the members
+and the public. Having no present intention of lecturing himself, he
+had thought of Amelius, and had spoken his thought. “I mentioned,” Rufus
+added slyly, “that I didn’t reckon you would mount the platform. But
+he’s a sanguine creature, that secretary--and he said he’d try.”
+
+“Why should I say No?” Amelius asked, a little irritably. “The secretary
+pays me a compliment, and offers me an opportunity of spreading
+our principles. Perhaps,” he added, more quietly, after a moment’s
+reflection, “you thought I might not be equal to the occasion--and, in
+that case, I don’t say you were wrong.”
+
+Rufus shook his head. “If you had passed your life in this decrepit
+little island,” he replied, “I might have doubted you, likely enough.
+But Tadmor’s situated in the United States. If they don’t practise
+the boys in the art of orating, don’t you tell me there’s an American
+citizen with a voice in _that_ society. Guess again, my son. You won’t?
+Well, then, ‘twas uncle Farnaby I had in my mind. I said to myself--not
+to the secretary--Amelius is bound to consider uncle Farnaby. Oh, my!
+what would uncle Farnaby say?”
+
+The hot temper of Amelius took fire instantly. “What the devil do I care
+for Farnaby’s opinions?” he burst out. “If there’s a man in England who
+wants the principles of Christian Socialism beaten into his thick head,
+it’s Farnaby. Are you going to see the secretary again?”
+
+“I might look in,” Rufus answered, “in the course of the evening.”
+
+“Tell him I’ll give the lecture--with my compliments and thanks. If I
+can only succeed,” pursued Amelius, hearing himself with the new idea,
+“I may make a name as a lecturer, and a name means money, and money
+means beating Farnaby with his own weapons. It’s an opening for me,
+Rufus, at the crisis of my life.”
+
+“That is so,” Rufus admitted. “I may as well look up the secretary.”
+
+“Why shouldn’t I go with you?” Amelius suggested.
+
+“Why not?” Rufus agreed.
+
+They left the house together.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK THE FIFTH. THE FATAL LECTURE
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 1
+
+Late that night Amelius sat alone in his room, making notes for the
+lecture which he had now formally engaged himself to deliver in a week’s
+time.
+
+Thanks to his American education (as Rufus had supposed), he had not
+been without practice in the art of public speaking. He had learnt to
+face his fellow-creatures in the act of oratory, and to hear the sound
+of his own voice in a silent assembly, without trembling from head to
+foot. English newspapers were regularly sent to Tadmor, and English
+politics were frequently discussed in the little parliament of the
+Community. The prospect of addressing a new audience, with their
+sympathies probably against him at the outset, had its terrors
+undoubtedly. But the more formidable consideration, to the mind of
+Amelius, was presented by the limits imposed on him in the matter of
+time. The lecture was to be succeeded (at the request of a clerical
+member of the Institution) by a public discussion; and the secretary’s
+experience suggested that the lecturer would do well to reduce his
+address within the compass of an hour. “Socialism is a large subject
+to be squeezed into that small space,” Amelius had objected. And the
+secretary sighed, and answered, “They won’t listen any longer.”
+
+Making notes, from time to time, of the points on which it was most
+desirable to insist, and on the relative positions which they should
+occupy in his lecture, the memory of Amelius became more and more
+absorbed in recalling the scenes in which his early life had been
+passed.
+
+He laid down his pen, as the clock of the nearest church struck the
+first dark hour of the morning, and let his thoughts take him back
+again, without interruption or restraint, to the hills and vales of
+Tadmor. Once more the kind old Elder Brother taught him the noble
+lessons of Christianity as they came from the inspired Teacher’s own
+lips; once more he took his turn of healthy work in the garden and the
+field; once more the voices of his companions joined with him in the
+evening songs, and the timid little figure of Mellicent stood at his
+side, content to hold the music-book and listen. How poor, how corrupt,
+did the life look that he was leading now, by comparison with the life
+that he had led in those earlier and happier days! How shamefully he had
+forgotten the simple precepts of Christian humility, Christian sympathy,
+and Christian self-restraint, in which his teachers had trusted as the
+safeguards that were to preserve him from the foul contact of the world!
+Within the last two days only, he had refused to make merciful allowance
+for the errors of a man, whose life had been wasted in the sordid
+struggle upward from poverty to wealth. And, worse yet, he had cruelly
+distressed the poor girl who loved him, at the prompting of those
+selfish passions which it was his first and foremost duty to restrain.
+The bare remembrance of it was unendurable to him, in his present frame
+of mind. With his customary impetuosity, he snatched up the pen, to make
+atonement before he went to rest that night. He wrote in few words to
+Mr. Farnaby, declaring that he regretted having spoken impatiently and
+contemptuously at the interview between them, and expressing the hope
+that their experience of each other, in the time to come, might perhaps
+lead to acceptable concessions on either side. His letter to Regina
+was written, it is needless to say, in warmer terms and at much greater
+length: it was the honest outpouring of his love and his penitence. When
+the letters were safe in their envelopes he was not satisfied, even yet.
+No matter what the hour might be, there was no ease of mind for Amelius,
+until he had actually posted his letters. He stole downstairs, and
+softly unbolted the door, and hurried away to the nearest letter-box.
+When he had let himself in again with his latch-key, his mind was
+relieved at last. “Now,” he thought, as he lit his bed-room candle, “I
+can go to sleep!”
+
+A visit from Rufus was the first event of the day.
+
+The two set to work together to draw out the necessary advertisement
+of the lecture. It was well calculated to attract attention in certain
+quarters. The announcement addressed itself, in capital letters, to all
+honest people who were poor and discontented. “Come, and hear the remedy
+which Christian Socialism provides for your troubles, explained to you
+by a friend and a brother; and pay no more than sixpence for the
+place that you occupy.” The necessary information as to time and place
+followed this appeal; including the offer of reserved seats at higher
+prices. By advice of the secretary, the advertisement was not sent
+to any journal having its circulation among the wealthier classes of
+society. It appeared prominently in one daily paper and in two weekly
+papers; the three possessing an aggregate sale of four hundred thousand
+copies. “Assume only five readers to each copy,” cried sanguine Amelius,
+“and we appeal to an audience of two millions. What a magnificent
+publicity!”
+
+There was one inevitable result of magnificent publicity which Amelius
+failed to consider. His advertisements were certain to bring people
+together, who might otherwise never have met in the great world of
+London, under one roof. All over England, Scotland, and Ireland,
+he invited unknown guests to pass the evening with him. In such
+circumstances, recognitions may take place between persons who have lost
+sight of each other for years; conversations may be held, which might
+otherwise never have been exchanged; and results may follow, for which
+the hero of the evening may be innocently responsible, because two or
+three among his audience happen to be sitting to hear him on the
+same bench. A man who opens his doors, and invites the public
+indiscriminately to come in, runs the risk of playing with inflammable
+materials, and can never be sure at what time or in what direction they
+may explode.
+
+Rufus himself took the fair copies of the advertisement to the nearest
+agent. Amelius stayed at home to think over his lecture.
+
+He was interrupted by the arrival of Mr. Farnaby’s answer to his letter.
+The man of the oily whiskers wrote courteously and guardedly. He was
+evidently flattered and pleased by the advance that had been made to
+him; and he was quite willing “under the circumstances” to give the
+lovers opportunities of meeting at his house. At the same time, he
+limited the number of the opportunities. “Once a week, for the present,
+my dear sir. Regina will doubtless write to you, when she returns to
+London.”
+
+Regina wrote, by return of post. The next morning Amelius received a
+letter from her which enchanted him. She had never loved him as she
+loved him now; she longed to see him again; she had prevailed on Mrs.
+Ormond to let her shorten her visit, and to intercede for her with
+the authorities at home. They were to return together to London on the
+afternoon of the next day. Amelius would be sure to find her, if he
+arranged to call in time for five-o’clock tea.
+
+Towards four o’clock on the next day, while Amelius was putting the
+finishing touches to his dress, he was informed that “a young
+person wished to see him.” The visitor proved to be Phoebe, with her
+handkerchief to her eyes; indulging in grief, in humble imitation of her
+young mistress’s gentle method of proceeding on similar occasions.
+
+“Good God!” cried Amelius, “has anything happened to Regina?”
+
+“No, sir,” Phoebe murmured behind the handkerchief. “Miss Regina is at
+home, and well.”
+
+“Then what are you crying about?”
+
+Phoebe forgot her mistress’s gentle method. She answered, with an
+explosion of sobs, “I’m ruined, sir!”
+
+“What do you mean by being ruined? Who’s done it?”
+
+“You’ve done it, sir!”
+
+Amelius started. His relations with Phoebe had been purely and entirely
+of the pecuniary sort. She was a showy, pretty girl, with a smart
+little figure--but with some undeniably bad lines, which only observant
+physiognomists remarked, about her eyebrows and her mouth. Amelius was
+not a physiognomist; but he was in love with Regina, which at his age
+implied faithful love. It is only men over forty who can court the
+mistress, with reserves of admiration to spare for the maid.
+
+“Sit down,” said Amelius; “and tell me in two words what you mean.”
+
+Phoebe sat down, and dried her eyes. “I have been infamously treated,
+sir, by Mrs. Farnaby,” she began--and stopped, overpowered by the bare
+remembrance of her wrongs. She was angry enough, at that moment, to be
+off her guard. The vindictive nature that was in the girl found its way
+outward, and showed itself in her face. Amelius perceived the change,
+and began to doubt whether Phoebe was quite worthy of the place which
+she had hitherto held in his estimation.
+
+“Surely there must be some mistake,” he said. “What opportunity has Mrs.
+Farnaby had of ill-treating you? You have only just got back to London.”
+
+“I beg your pardon, sir, we got back sooner than we expected. Mrs.
+Ormond had business in town: and she left Miss Regina at her own door,
+nearly two hours since.”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“Well, sir, I had hardly taken off my bonnet and shawl, when I was sent
+for by Mrs. Farnaby. ‘Have you unpacked your box yet?’ says she. I
+told her I hadn’t had time to do so. ‘You needn’t trouble yourself to
+unpack,’ says she. ‘You are no longer in Miss Regina’s service. There
+are your wages--with a month’s wages besides, in place of the customary
+warning.’ I’m only a poor girl, sir, but I up and spoke to her as plain
+as she spoke to me. ‘I want to know,’ I says, ‘why I am sent away in
+this uncivil manner?’ I couldn’t possibly repeat what she said. My blood
+boils when I think of it,” Phoebe declared, with melodramatic vehemence.
+“Somebody has found us out, sir. Somebody has told Mrs. Farnaby of your
+private meeting with Miss Regina in the shrubbery, and the money you
+kindly gave me. I believe Mrs. Ormond is at the bottom of it; you
+remember nobody knew where she was, when I thought she was in the
+house speaking to the cook. That’s guess-work, I allow, so far. What is
+certain is, that I have been spoken to as if I was the lowest creature
+that walks the streets. Mrs. Farnaby refuses to give me a character,
+sir. She actually said she would call in the police, if I didn’t leave
+the house in half an hour. How am I to get another place, without a
+character? I’m a ruined girl, that’s what I am--and all through You!”
+
+Threatened at this point with an illustrative outburst of sobbing
+Amelius was simple enough to try the consoling influence of a sovereign.
+“Why don’t you speak to Miss Regina?” he asked. “You know she will help
+you.”
+
+“She has done all she can, sir. I have nothing to say against Miss
+Regina--she’s a good creature. She came into the room, and begged, and
+prayed, and took all the blame on herself. Mrs. Farnaby wouldn’t hear
+a word. ‘I’m mistress here,’ she says; ‘you had better go back to your
+room.’ Ah, Mr. Amelius, I can tell you Mrs. Farnaby is your enemy as
+well as mine! you’ll never marry her niece if _she_ can stop it. Mark my
+words, sir, that’s the secret of the vile manner in which she has used
+me. My conscience is clear, thank God. I’ve tried to serve the cause of
+true love--and I’m not ashamed of it. Never mind! my turn is to come.
+I’m only a poor servant, sent adrift in the world without a character.
+Wait a little! you see if I am not even (and better than even) with Mrs.
+Farnaby, before long! _I know what I know._ I am not going to say any
+more than that. She shall rue the day,” cried Phoebe, relapsing into
+melodrama again, “when she turned me out of the house like a thief!”
+
+“Come! come!” said Amelius, sharply, “you mustn’t speak in that way.”
+
+Phoebe had got her money: she could afford to be independent. She
+rose from her chair. The insolence which is the almost invariable
+accompaniment of a sense of injury among Englishwomen of her class
+expressed itself in her answer to Amelius. “I speak as I think, sir. I
+have some spirit in me; I am not a woman to be trodden underfoot--and so
+Mrs. Farnaby shall find, before she is many days older.”
+
+“Phoebe! Phoebe! you are talking like a heathen. If Mrs. Farnaby has
+behaved to you with unjust severity, set her an example of moderation on
+your side. It’s your duty as a Christian to forgive injuries.”
+
+Phoebe burst out laughing. “Hee-hee-hee! Thank you, sir, for a sermon
+as well as a sovereign. You have been most kind, indeed!” She changed
+suddenly from irony to anger. “I never was called a heathen before!
+Considering what I have done for you, I think you might at least have
+been civil. Good afternoon, sir.” She lifted her saucy little snub-nose,
+and walked with dignity out of the room.
+
+For the moment, Amelius was amused. As he heard the house-door closed,
+he turned laughing to the window, for a last look at Phoebe in the
+character of an injured Christian. In an instant the smile left his
+lips--he drew back from the window with a start.
+
+A man had been waiting for Phoebe, in the street. At the moment when
+Amelius looked out, she had just taken his arm. He glanced back at the
+house, as they walked away together. Amelius immediately recognised,
+in Phoebe’s companion (and sweetheart), a vagabond Irishman, nicknamed
+Jervy, whose face he had last seen at Tadmor. Employed as one of
+the agents of the Community in transacting their business with the
+neighbouring town, he had been dismissed for misconduct, and had been
+unwisely taken back again, at the intercession of a respectable person
+who believed in his promises of amendment. Amelius had suspected this
+man of being the spy who officiously informed against Mellicent and
+himself, but having discovered no evidence to justify his suspicions, he
+had remained silent on the subject. It was now quite plain to him
+that Jervy’s appearance in London could only be attributed to a
+second dismissal from the service of the Community, for some offence
+sufficiently serious to oblige him to take refuge in England. A more
+disreputable person it was hardly possible for Phoebe to have
+become acquainted with. In her present vindictive mood, he would be
+emphatically a dangerous companion and counsellor. Amelius felt this so
+strongly, that he determined to follow them, on the chance of finding
+out where Jervy lived. Unhappily, he had only arrived at this resolution
+after a lapse of a minute or two. He ran into the street but it was too
+late; not a trace of them was to be discovered. Pursuing his way to Mr.
+Farnaby’s house, he decided on mentioning what had happened to Regina.
+Her aunt had not acted wisely in refusing to let the maid refer to her
+for a character. She would do well to set herself right with Phoebe, in
+this particular, before it was too late.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 2
+
+Mrs. Farnaby stood at the door of her own room, and looked at her niece
+with an air of contemptuous curiosity.
+
+“Well? You and your lover have had a fine time of it together, I
+suppose? What do you want here?”
+
+“Amelius wishes particularly to speak to you, aunt.”
+
+“Tell him to save himself the trouble. He may reconcile your uncle to
+his marriage--he won’t reconcile Me.”
+
+“It’s not about that, aunt; it’s about Phoebe.”
+
+“Does he want me to take Phoebe back again?”
+
+At that moment Amelius appeared in the hall, and answered the question
+himself. “I want to give you a word of warning,” he said.
+
+Mrs. Farnaby smiled grimly. “That excites my curiosity,” she replied.
+“Come in. I don’t want _you,”_ she added, dismissing her niece at the
+door. “So you’re willing to wait ten years for Regina?” she continued,
+when Amelius was alone with her. “I’m disappointed in you; you’re a poor
+weak creature, after all. What about that young hussy, Phoebe?”
+
+Amelius told her unreservedly all that had passed between the discarded
+maid and himself, not forgetting, before he concluded, to caution her on
+the subject of the maid’s companion. “I don’t know what that man may
+not do to mislead Phoebe,” he said. “If I were you, I wouldn’t drive her
+into a corner.”
+
+Mrs. Farnaby eyed him scornfully from head to foot. “You used to have
+the spirit of a man in you,” she answered. “Keeping company with Regina
+has made you a milksop already. If you want to know what I think of
+Phoebe and her sweetheart--” she stopped, and snapped her fingers.
+“There!” she said, “that’s what I think! Now go back to Regina. I can
+tell you one thing--she will never be your wife.”
+
+Amelius looked at her in quiet surprise. “It seems odd,” he remarked,
+“that you should treat me as you do, after what you said to me, the last
+time I was in this room. You expect me to help you in the dearest wish
+of your life--and you do everything you can to thwart the dearest wish
+of _my_ life. A man can’t keep his temper under continual provocation.
+Suppose I refuse to help you?”
+
+Mrs. Farnaby looked at him with the most exasperating composure. “I defy
+you to do it,” she answered.
+
+“You defy me to do it!” Amelius exclaimed.
+
+“Do you take me for a fool?” Mrs. Farnaby went on. “Do you think I don’t
+know you better than you know yourself?” She stepped up close to him;
+her voice sank suddenly to low and tender tones. “If that last unlikely
+chance should turn out in my favour,” she went on; “if you really did
+meet with my poor girl, one of these days, and knew that you had met
+with her--do you mean to say you could be cruel enough, no matter how
+badly I behaved to you, to tell me nothing about it? Is _that_ the heart
+I can feel beating under my hand? Is _that_ the Christianity you learnt
+at Tadmor? Pooh, pooh, you foolish boy! Go back to Regina; and tell her
+you have tried to frighten me, and you find it won’t do.”
+
+The next day was Saturday. The advertisement of the lecture appeared in
+the newspapers. Rufus confessed that he had been extravagant enough,
+in the case of the two weekly journals, to occupy half a page.
+“The public,” he explained, “have got a nasty way of overlooking
+advertisements of a modest and retiring character. Hit ‘em in the eyes
+when they open the paper, or you don’t hit ‘em at all.”
+
+Among the members of the public attracted by the new announcement, Mrs.
+Farnaby was one. She honoured Amelius with a visit at his lodgings. “I
+called you a poor weak creature yesterday” (these were her first words
+on entering the room); “I talked like a fool. You’re a splendid fellow;
+I respect your courage, and I shall attend your lecture. Never mind what
+Mr. Farnaby and Regina say. Regina’s poor little conventional soul
+is shaken, I dare say; you needn’t expect to have my niece among your
+audience. But Farnaby is a humbug, as usual. He affects to be horrified;
+he talks big about breaking off the match. In his own self, he’s
+bursting with curiosity to know how you will get through with it. I tell
+you this--he will sneak into the hall and stand at the back where nobody
+can see him. I shall go with him; and, when you’re on the platform, I’ll
+hold up my handkerchief like this. Then you’ll know he’s there. Hit him
+hard, Amelius--hit him hard! Where is your friend Rufus? just gone away?
+I like that American. Give him my love, and tell him to come and see
+me.” She left the room as abruptly as she had entered it. Amelius looked
+after her in amazement. Mrs. Farnaby was not like herself; Mrs. Farnaby
+was in good spirits!
+
+Regina’s opinion of the lecture arrived by post.
+
+Every other word in her letter was underlined; half the sentences began
+with “Oh!”; Regina was shocked, astonished, ashamed, alarmed. What would
+Amelius do next? Why had he deceived her, and left her to find it out in
+the papers? He had undone all the good effect of those charming letters
+to her father and herself. He had no idea of the disgust and abhorrence
+which respectable people would feel at his odious Socialism. Was she
+never to know another happy moment? and was Amelius to be the cause of
+it? and so on, and so on.
+
+Mr. Farnaby’s protest followed, delivered by Mr. Farnaby himself.
+He kept his gloves on when he called; he was solemn and pathetic; he
+remonstrated, in the character of one of the ancestors of Amelius; he
+pitied the ancient family “mouldering in the silent grave,” he would
+abstain from deciding in a hurry, but his daughter’s feelings were
+outraged, and he feared it might be his duty to break off the match.
+Amelius, with perfect good temper, offered him a free admission, and
+asked him to hear the lecture and decide for himself whether there was
+any harm in it. Mr. Farnaby turned his head away from the ticket as if
+it was something indecent. “Sad! sad!” That was his only farewell to the
+gentleman-Socialist.
+
+On the Sunday (being the only day in London on which a man can use his
+brains without being interrupted by street music), Amelius rehearsed his
+lecture. On the Monday, he paid his weekly visit to Regina.
+
+She was reported--whether truly or not it was impossible for him to
+discover--to have gone out in the carriage with Mrs. Ormond. Amelius
+wrote to her in soothing and affectionate terms, suggesting, as he had
+suggested to her father, that she should wait to hear the lecture before
+she condemned it. In the mean time, he entreated her to remember
+that they had promised to be true to one another, in time and
+eternity--Socialism notwithstanding.
+
+The answer came back by private messenger. The tone was serious.
+Regina’s principles forbade her to attend a Socialist lecture. She hoped
+Amelius was in earnest in writing as he did about time and eternity. The
+subject was very awful to a rightly-constituted mind. On the next page,
+some mitigation of this severity followed in a postscript. Regina would
+wait at home to see Amelius, the day after his “regrettable appearance
+in public.”
+
+The evening of Tuesday was the evening of the lecture.
+
+Rufus posted himself at the ticket-taker’s office, in the interests of
+Amelius. “Even sixpences do sometimes stick to a man’s fingers, on their
+way from the public to the money-box,” he remarked. The sixpences did
+indeed flow in rapidly; the advertisements had, so far, produced their
+effect. But the reserved seats sold very slowly. The members of the
+Institution, who were admitted for nothing, arrived in large numbers,
+and secured the best places. Towards eight o’clock (the hour at which
+the lecture was to begin), the sixpenny audience was still pouring in.
+Rufus recognised Phoebe among the late arrivals, escorted by a person in
+the dress of a gentleman, who was palpably a blackguard nevertheless. A
+short stout lady followed, who warily shook hands with Rufus, and said,
+“Let me introduce you to Mr. Farnaby.” Mr. Farnaby’s mouth and chin were
+shrouded in a wrapper; his hat was over his eyebrows. Rufus observed
+that he looked as if he was ashamed of himself. A gaunt, dirty, savage
+old woman, miserably dressed, offered her sixpence to the moneytaker,
+while the two gentlemen were shaking hands; the example, it is needless
+to say, being set by Rufus. The old woman looked attentively at all
+that was visible of Mr. Farnaby--that is to say, at his eyes and his
+whiskers--by the gas-lamp hanging in the corridor. She instantly drew
+back, though she had got her ticket; waited until Mr. Farnaby had paid
+for his wife and himself, and then followed close behind them, into the
+hall.
+
+And why not? The advertisements addressed this wretched old creature as
+one of the poor and discontented public. Sixteen years ago, John Farnaby
+had put his own child into that woman’s hands at Ramsgate, and had never
+seen either of them since.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 3
+
+Entering the hall, Mr. Farnaby discovered without difficulty the
+position of modest retirement of which he was in search.
+
+The cheap seats were situated, as usual, on that part of the floor of
+the building which was farthest from the platform. A gallery at this end
+of the hall threw its shadow over the hindermost benches and the
+gangway by which they were approached. In the sheltering obscurity thus
+produced, Mr. Farnaby took his place; standing in the corner formed by
+the angle it which the two walls of the building met, with his dutiful
+wife at his side.
+
+Still following them, unnoticed in the crowd, the old woman stopped at
+the extremity of the hindermost bench, looked close at a smartly-dressed
+young man who occupied the last seat at the end, and who paid marked
+attention to a pretty girl sitting by him, and whispered in his ear,
+“Now then, Jervy! can’t you make room for Mother Sowler?”
+
+The man started and looked round. “You here?” he exclaimed, with an
+oath.
+
+Before he could say more, Phoebe whispered to him on the other side,
+“What a horrid old creature! How did you ever come to know her?”
+
+At the same moment, Mrs. Sowler reiterated her request in more
+peremptory language. “Do you hear, Jervy--do you hear? Sit a little
+closer.”
+
+Jervy apparently had his reasons for treating the expression of Mrs.
+Sowler’s wishes with deference, shabby as she was. Making abundant
+apologies, he asked his neighbours to favour him by sitting a little
+nearer to each other, and so contrive to leave a morsel of vacant space
+at the edge of the bench.
+
+Phoebe, making room under protest, began to whisper again. “What does
+she mean by calling you Jervy? She looks like a beggar. Tell her your
+name is Jervis.”
+
+The reply she received did not encourage her to say more. “Hold your
+tongue; I have reasons for being civil to her--you be civil too.”
+
+He turned to Mrs. Sowler, with the readiest submission to circumstances.
+Under the surface of his showy looks and his vulgar facility of manner,
+there lay hidden a substance of callous villainy and impenetrable
+cunning. He had in him the materials out of which the clever murderers
+are made, who baffle the police. If he could have done it with impunity,
+he would have destroyed without remorse the squalid old creature who sat
+by him, and who knew enough of his past career in England to send him
+to penal servitude for life. As it was, he spoke to her with a spurious
+condescension and good humour. “Why, it must be ten years, Mrs. Sowler,
+since I last saw you! What have you been doing?”
+
+The woman frowned at him as she answered. “Can’t you look at me, and
+see? Starving!” She eyed his gaudy watch and chain greedily. “Money
+don’t seem to be scarce with you. Have you made your fortune in
+America?”
+
+He laid his hand on her arm, and pressed it warningly. “Hush!” he said,
+under his breath. “We’ll talk about that, after the lecture.” His bright
+shifty black eyes turned furtively towards Phoebe--and Mrs. Sowler
+noticed it. The girl’s savings in service had paid for his jewelry and
+his fine clothes. She silently resented his rudeness in telling her to
+“hold her tongue”; sitting, sullen, with her impudent little nose in the
+air. Jervy tried to include her indirectly in his conversation with his
+shabby old friend. “This young lady,” he said, “knows Mr. Goldenheart.
+She feels sure he’ll break down; and we’ve come here to see the fun. I
+don’t hold with Socialism myself--I am for, what my favourite
+newspaper calls, the Altar and the Throne. In short, my politics are
+Conservative.”
+
+“Your politics are in your girl’s pocket,” muttered Mrs. Sowler. “How
+long will her money last?”
+
+Jervy turned a deaf ear to the interruption. “And what has brought
+you here?” he went on, in his most ingratiating way. “Did you see the
+advertisement in the papers?”
+
+Mrs. Sowler answered loud enough to be heard above the hum of talking in
+the sixpenny places. “I was having a drop of gin, and I saw the paper at
+the public-house. I’m one of the discontented poor. I hate rich people;
+and I’m ready to pay my sixpence to hear them abused.”
+
+“Hear, hear!” said a man near, who looked like a shoemaker.
+
+“I hope he’ll give it to the aristocracy,” added one of the shoemaker’s
+neighbours, apparently a groom out of place.
+
+“I’m sick of the aristocracy,” cried a woman with a fiery face and a
+crushed bonnet. “It’s them as swallows up the money. What business have
+they with their palaces and their parks, when my husband’s out of work,
+and my children hungry at home?”
+
+The acquiescent shoemaker listened with admiration. “Very well put,” he
+said; “very well put.”
+
+These expressions of popular feeling reached the respectable ears of Mr.
+Farnaby. “Do you hear those wretches?” he said to his wife.
+
+Mrs. Farnaby seized the welcome opportunity of irritating him. “Poor
+things!” she answered. “In their place, we should talk as they do.”
+
+“You had better go into the reserved seats,” rejoined her husband,
+turning from her with a look of disgust. “There’s plenty of room. Why do
+you stop here?”
+
+“I couldn’t think of leaving you, my dear! How did you like my American
+friend?”
+
+“I am astonished at your taking the liberty of introducing him to me.
+You knew perfectly well that I was here incognito. What do I care about
+a wandering American?”
+
+Mrs. Farnaby persisted as maliciously as ever. “Ah, but you see, I like
+him. The wandering American is my ally.”
+
+“Your ally! What do you mean?”
+
+“Good heavens, how dull you are! don’t you know that I object to my
+niece’s marriage engagement? I was quite delighted when I heard of this
+lecture, because it’s an obstacle in the way. It disgusts Regina, and
+it disgusts You--and my dear American is the man who first brought
+it about. Hush! here’s Amelius. How well he looks! So graceful and so
+gentlemanlike,” cried Mrs. Farnaby, signalling with her handkerchief to
+show Amelius their position in the hall. “I declare I’m ready to become
+a Socialist before he opens his lips!”
+
+The personal appearance of Amelius took the audience completely by
+surprise. A man who is young and handsome is not the order of man who
+is habitually associated in the popular mind with the idea of a lecture.
+After a moment of silence, there was a spontaneous burst of applause.
+It was renewed when Amelius, first placing on his table a little book,
+announced his intention of delivering the lecture extempore. The absence
+of the inevitable manuscript was in itself an act of mercy that cheered
+the public at starting.
+
+The orator of the evening began.
+
+“Ladies and gentlemen, thoughtful people accustomed to watch the signs
+of the times in this country, and among the other nations of Europe, are
+(so far as I know) agreed in the conclusion, that serious changes are
+likely to take place in present forms of government, and in existing
+systems of society, before the century in which we live has reached its
+end. In plain words, the next revolution is not so unlikely, and not so
+far off, as it pleases the higher and wealthier classes among European
+populations to suppose. I am one of those who believe that the coming
+convulsion will take the form, this time, of a social revolution, and
+that the man at the head of it will not be a military or a political
+man--but a Great Citizen, sprung from the people, and devoted heart and
+soul to the people’s cause. Within the limits assigned to me to-night,
+it is impossible that I should speak to you of government and society
+among other nations, even if I possessed the necessary knowledge and
+experience to venture on so vast a subject. All that I can now attempt
+to do is (first) to point out some of the causes which are paving the
+way for a coming change in the social and political condition of this
+country; and (secondly) to satisfy you that the only trustworthy
+remedy for existing abuses is to be found in the system which Christian
+Socialism extracts from this little book on my table--the book which you
+all know under the name of The New Testament. Before, however, I enter
+on my task, I feel it a duty to say one preliminary word on the subject
+of my claim to address you, such as it is. I am most unwilling to speak
+of myself--but my position here forces me to do so. I am a stranger to
+all of you; and I am a very young man. Let me tell you, then, briefly,
+what my life has been, and where I have been brought up--and then decide
+for yourselves whether it is worth your while to favour me with your
+attention, or not.”
+
+“A very good opening,” remarked the shoemaker.
+
+“A nice-looking fellow,” said the fiery-faced woman, “I should like to
+kiss him.”
+
+“He’s too civil by half,” grumbled Mrs. Sowler; “I wish I had my
+sixpence back in my pocket.”
+
+“Give him time.” whispered Jervy, “and he’ll warm up. I say, Phoebe,
+he doesn’t begin like a man who is going to break down. I don’t expect
+there will be much to laugh at to-night.”
+
+“What an admirable speaker!” said Mrs. Farnaby to her husband. “Fancy
+such a man as that, being married to such an idiot as Regina!”
+
+“There’s always a chance for him,” returned Mr. Farnaby, savagely, “as
+long as he’s not married to such a woman as You!”
+
+In the mean time, Amelius had claimed national kindred with his audience
+as an Englishman, and had rapidly sketched his life at Tadmor, in its
+most noteworthy points. This done, he put the question whether they
+would hear him. His frankness and freshness had already won the public:
+they answered by a general shout of applause.
+
+“Very well,” Amelius proceeded, “now let us get on. Suppose we take
+a glance (we have no time to do more) at the present state of our
+religious system, first. What is the public aspect of the thing called
+Christianity, in the England of our day? A hundred different sects
+all at variance with each other. An established church, rent in every
+direction by incessant wrangling--disputes about black gowns or white;
+about having candlesticks on tables, or off tables; about bowing to
+the east or bowing to the west; about which doctrine collects the most
+respectable support and possesses the largest sum of money, the doctrine
+in my church, or the doctrine in your church, or the doctrine in the
+church over the way. Look up, if you like, from this multitudinous and
+incessant squabbling among the rank and file, to the high regions in
+which the right reverend representatives of state religion sit apart.
+Are they Christians? If they are, show me the Bishop who dare assert his
+Christianity in the House of Lords, when the ministry of the day happens
+to see its advantage in engaging in a war! Where is that Bishop, and how
+many supporters does he count among his own order? Do you blame me for
+using intemperate language--language which I cannot justify? Take a
+fair test, and try me by that. The result of the Christianity of the
+New Testament is to make men true, humane, gentle, modest, strictly
+scrupulous and strictly considerate in their dealings with their
+neighbours. Does the Christianity of the churches and the sects produce
+these results among us? Look at the staple of the country, at the
+occupation which employs the largest number of Englishmen of all
+degrees--Look at our Commerce. What is its social aspect, judged by the
+morality which is in this book in my hand? Let those organised systems
+of imposture, masquerading under the disguise of banks and companies,
+answer the question--there is no need for me to answer it. You know what
+respectable names are associated, year after year, with the shameless
+falsification of accounts, and the merciless ruin of thousands on
+thousands of victims. You know how our poor Indian customer finds his
+cotton-print dress a sham that falls to pieces; how the savage who deals
+honestly with us for his weapon finds his gun a delusion that bursts;
+how the half-starved needlewoman who buys her reel of thread finds
+printed on the label a false statement of the number of yards that she
+buys; you know that, in the markets of Europe, foreign goods are fast
+taking the place of English goods, because the foreigner is the most
+honest manufacturer of the two--and, lastly, you know, what is worse
+than all, that these cruel and wicked deceptions, and many more like
+them, are regarded, on the highest commercial authority, as ‘forms of
+competition’ and justifiable proceedings in trade. Do you believe in
+the honourable accumulation of wealth by men who hold such opinions and
+perpetrate such impostures as these? I don’t! Do you find any brighter
+and purer prospect when you look down from the man who deceives you and
+me on the great scale, to the man who deceives us on the small? I
+don’t! Everything we eat, drink, and wear is a more or less adulterated
+commodity; and that very adulteration is sold to us by the tradesmen at
+such outrageous prices, that we are obliged to protect ourselves on the
+Socialist principle, by setting up cooperative shops of our own. Wait!
+and hear me out, before you applaud. Don’t mistake the plain purpose
+of what I am saying to you; and don’t suppose that I am blind to the
+brighter side of the dark picture that I have drawn. Look within the
+limits of private life, and you will find true Christians, thank God,
+among clergymen and laymen alike; you will find men and women who
+deserve to be called, in the highest sense of the word, disciples of
+Christ. But my business is not with private life--my business is with
+the present public aspect of the religion, morals, and politics of this
+country; and again I say it, that aspect presents one wide field of
+corruption and abuse, and reveals a callous and shocking insensibility
+on the part of the nation at large to the spectacle of its own
+demoralisation and disgrace.”
+
+There Amelius paused, and took his first drink of water.
+
+Reserved seats at public performances seem, by some curious affinity,
+to be occupied by reserved persons. The select public, seated nearest to
+the orator, preserved discreet silence. But the hearty applause from the
+sixpenny places made ample amends. There was enough of the lecturer’s
+own vehemence and impetuosity in this opening attack--sustained as it
+undeniably was by a sound foundation of truth--to appeal strongly to the
+majority of his audience. Mrs. Sowler began to think that her sixpence
+had been well laid out, after all; and Mrs. Farnaby pointed the direct
+application to her husband of all the hardest hits at commerce, by
+nodding her head at him as they were delivered.
+
+Amelius went on.
+
+“The next thing we have to discover is this: Will our present system of
+government supply us with peaceable means for the reform of the abuses
+which I have already noticed? not forgetting that other enormous abuse,
+represented by our intolerable national expenditure, increasing with
+every year. Unless you insist on it, I do not propose to waste our
+precious time by saying anything about the House of Lords, for three
+good reasons. In the first place, that assembly is not elected by the
+people, and it has therefore no right of existence in a really free
+country. In the second place, out of its four hundred and eighty-five
+members, no less than one hundred and eighty-four directly profit by the
+expenditure of the public money; being in the annual receipt, under one
+pretence or another, of more than half a million sterling. In the third
+place, if the assembly of the Commons has in it the will, as well as the
+capacity, to lead the way in the needful reforms, the assembly of the
+Lords has no alternative but to follow, or to raise the revolution which
+it only escaped, by a hair’s-breadth, some forty years since. What do
+you say? Shall we waste our time in speaking of the House of Lords?”
+
+Loud cries from the sixpenny benches answered No; the ostler and the
+fiery-faced woman being the most vociferous of all. Here and there,
+certain dissentient individuals raised a little hiss--led by Jervy, in
+the interests of “the Altar and the Throne.”
+
+Amelius resumed.
+
+“Well, will the House of Commons help us to get purer Christianity, and
+cheaper government, by lawful and sufficient process of reform? Let me
+again remind you that this assembly has the power--if it has the will.
+Is it so constituted at present as to have the will? There is the
+question! The number of members is a little over six hundred and fifty.
+Out of this muster, one fifth only represent (or pretend to represent)
+the trading interests of the country. As for the members charged
+with the interests of the working class, they are more easily counted
+still--they are two in number! Then, in heaven’s name (you will ask),
+what interest does the majority of members in this assembly represent?
+There is but one answer--the military and aristocratic interest. In
+these days of the decay of representative institutions, the House of
+Commons has become a complete misnomer. The Commons are not represented;
+modern members belong to classes of the community which have really no
+interest in providing for popular needs and lightening popular burdens.
+In one word, there is no sort of hope for us in the House of Commons.
+And whose fault is this? I own it with shame and sorrow--it is
+emphatically the fault of the people. Yes, I say to you plainly, it is
+the disgrace and the peril of England that the people themselves have
+elected the representative assembly which ignores the people’s wants!
+You voters, in town and county alike, have had every conceivable
+freedom and encouragement secured to you in the exercise of your sacred
+trust--and there is the modern House of Commons to prove that you are
+thoroughly unworthy of it!”
+
+These bold words produced an outbreak of disapprobation from the
+audience, which, for the moment, completely overpowered the speaker’s
+voice. They were prepared to listen with inexhaustible patience to the
+enumeration of their virtues and their wrongs--but they had not paid
+sixpence each to be informed of the vicious and contemptible part which
+they play in modern politics. They yelled and groaned and hissed--and
+felt that their handsome young lecturer had insulted them!
+
+Amelius waited quietly until the disturbance had worn itself out.
+
+“I am sorry I have made you angry with me,” he said, smiling. “The blame
+for this little disturbance really rests with the public speakers who
+are afraid of you and who flatter you--especially if you belong to the
+working classes. You are not accustomed to have the truth told you to
+your faces. Why, my good friends, the people in this country, who
+are unworthy of the great trust which the wise and generous English
+constitution places in their hands, are so numerous that they can be
+divided into distinct classes! There is the highly-educated class
+which despairs, and holds aloof. There is the class beneath--without
+self-respect, and therefore without public spirit--which can be bribed
+indirectly, by the gift of a place, by the concession of a lease, even
+by an invitation to a party at a great house which includes the wives
+and the daughters. And there is the lower class still--mercenary,
+corrupt, shameless to the marrow of its bones--which sells itself and
+its liberties for money and drink. When I began this discourse,
+and adverted to great changes that are to come, I spoke of them as
+revolutionary changes. Am I an alarmist? Do I unjustly ignore the
+capacity for peaceable reformation which has preserved modern England
+from revolutions, thus far? God forbid that I should deny the truth, or
+that I should alarm you without need! But history tells me, if I look no
+farther back than to the first French Revolution, that there are social
+and political corruptions, which strike their roots in a nation
+so widely and so deeply, that no force short of the force of a
+revolutionary convulsion can tear them up and cast them away. And I do
+personally fear (and older and wiser men than I agree with me), that
+the corruptions at which I have only been able to hint, in this brief
+address, are fast extending themselves--in England, as well as in Europe
+generally--beyond the reach of that lawful and bloodless reform which
+has served us so well in past years. Whether I am mistaken in this view
+(and I hope with all my heart it may be so), or whether events yet in
+the future will prove that I am right, the remedy in either case,
+the one sure foundation on which a permanent, complete, and worthy
+reformation can be built--whether it prevents a convulsion or whether
+it follows a convulsion--is only to be found within the covers of this
+book. Do not, I entreat you, suffer yourselves to be persuaded by those
+purblind philosophers who assert that the divine virtue of Christianity
+is a virtue which is wearing out with the lapse of time. It is the abuse
+and corruption of Christianity that is wearing out--as all falsities
+and all impostures must and do wear out. Never, since Christ and his
+apostles first showed men the way to be better and happier, have
+the nations stood in sorer need of a return to that teaching, in its
+pristine purity and simplicity, than now! Never, more certainly than at
+this critical time, was it the interest as well as the duty of mankind
+to turn a deaf ear to the turmoil of false teachers, and to trust
+in that all-wise and all-merciful Voice which only ceased to exalt,
+console, and purify humanity, when it expired in darkness under the
+torture of the cross! Are these the wild words of an enthusiast? Is this
+the dream of an earthly Paradise in which it is sheer folly to believe?
+I can tell you of one existing community (one among others) which
+numbers some hundreds of persons; and which has found prosperity and
+happiness, by reducing the whole art and mystery of government to the
+simple solution set forth in the New Testament--fear God, and love thy
+neighbour as thyself.”
+
+By these gradations Amelius arrived at the second of the two parts into
+which he had divided his address.
+
+He now repeated, at greater length and with a more careful choice of
+language, the statement of the religious and social principles of
+the Community at Tadmor, which he had already addressed to his two
+fellow-travellers on the voyage to England. While he confined himself to
+plain narrative, describing a mode of life which was entirely new to
+his hearers, he held the attention of the audience. But when he began to
+argue the question of applying Christian Socialism to the government of
+large populations as well as small--when he inquired logically whether
+what he had proved to be good for some hundreds of persons was not
+also good for some thousands, and, conceding that, for some hundreds of
+thousands, and so on until he had arrived, by dint of sheer argument,
+at the conclusion that what had succeeded at Tadmor must necessarily
+succeed on a fair trial in London--then the public interest began to
+flag. People remembered their coughs and colds, and talked in whispers,
+and looked about them with a vague feeling of relief in staring at each
+other. Mrs. Sowler, hitherto content with furtively glancing at Mr.
+Farnaby from time to time, now began to look at him more boldly, as he
+stood in his corner with his eyes fixed sternly on the platform at
+the other end of the hall. He too began to feel that the lecture was
+changing its tone. It was no longer the daring outbreak which he
+had come to hear, as his sufficient justification (if necessary) for
+forbidding Amelius to enter his house. “I have had enough of it,” he
+said, suddenly turning to his wife, “let us go.”
+
+If Mrs. Farnaby could have been forewarned that she was standing in that
+assembly of strangers, not as one of themselves, but as a woman with a
+formidable danger hanging over her head--or if she had only happened to
+look towards Phoebe, and had felt a passing reluctance to submit herself
+to the possibly insolent notice of a discharged servant--she might have
+gone out with her husband, and might have so escaped the peril that had
+been lying in wait for her, from the fatal moment when she first
+entered the hall. As it was she refused to move. “You forget the public
+discussion,” she said. “Wait and see what sort of fight Amelius makes of
+it when the lecture is over.”
+
+She spoke loud enough to be heard by some of the people seated nearest
+to her. Phoebe, critically examining the dresses of the few ladies in
+the reserved seats, twisted round on the bench, and noticed for the
+first time the presence of Mr. and Mrs. Farnaby in their dim corner.
+“Look!” she whispered to Jervy, “there’s the wretch who turned me out of
+her house without a character, and her husband with her.”
+
+Jervy looked round, in his turn, a little doubtful of the accuracy of
+his sweetheart’s information. “Surely they wouldn’t come to the sixpenny
+places,” he said. “Are you certain it’s Mr. and Mrs. Farnaby?”
+
+He spoke in cautiously-lowered tones; but Mrs. Sowler had seen him
+look back at the lady and gentleman in the corner, and was listening
+attentively to catch the first words that fell from his lips.
+
+“Which is Mr. Farnaby?” she asked.
+
+“The man in the corner there, with the white silk wrapper over his
+mouth, and his hat down to his eyebrows.”
+
+Mrs. Sowler looked round for a moment--to make sure that Jervy’s man and
+her man were one and the same.
+
+“Farnaby?” she muttered to herself, in the tone of a person who heard
+the name for the first time. She considered a little, and leaning across
+Jervy, addressed herself to his companion. “My dear,” she whispered,
+“did that gentleman ever go by the name of Morgan, and have his letters
+addressed to the George and Dragon, in Tooley-street?”
+
+Phoebe lifted her eyebrows with a look of contemptuous surprise, which
+was an answer in itself. “Fancy the great Mr. Farnaby going by an
+assumed name, and having his letters addressed to a public-house!” she
+said to Jervy.
+
+Mrs. Sowler asked no more questions. She relapsed into muttering
+to herself, under her breath. “His whiskers have turned gray, to be
+sure--but I know his eyes again; I’ll take my oath to it, there’s no
+mistaking _his_ eyes!” She suddenly appealed to Jervy. “Is Mr. Farnaby
+rich?” she asked.
+
+“Rolling in riches!” was the answer.
+
+“Where does he live?”
+
+Jervy was cautious how he replied to that; he consulted Phoebe. “Shall I
+tell her?”
+
+Phoebe answered petulantly, “I’m turned out of the house; I don’t care
+what you tell her!”
+
+Jervy again addressed the old woman, still keeping his information in
+reserve. “Why do you want to know where he lives?”
+
+“He owes me money,” said Mrs. Sowler.
+
+Jervy looked hard at her, and emitted a long low whistle, expressive of
+blank amazement. The persons near, annoyed by the incessant whispering,
+looked round irritably, and insisted on silence. Jervy ventured
+nevertheless on a last interruption. “You seem to be tired of this,” he
+remarked to Phoebe; “let’s go and get some oysters.” She rose directly.
+Jervy tapped Mrs. Sowler on the shoulder, as they passed her. “Come and
+have some supper,” he said; “I’ll stand treat.”
+
+The three were necessarily noticed by their neighbours as they passed
+out. Mrs. Farnaby discovered Phoebe--when it was too late. Mr. Farnaby
+happened to look first at the old woman. Sixteen years of squalid
+poverty effectually disguised her, in that dim light. He only looked
+away again, and said to his wife impatiently, “Let us go too!”
+
+Mrs. Farnaby was still obstinate. “You can go if you like,” she said; “I
+shall stay here.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 4
+
+“Three dozen oysters, bread-and-butter, and bottled stout; a private
+room and a good fire.” Issuing these instructions, on his arrival at the
+tavern, Jervy was surprised by a sudden act of interference on the part
+of his venerable guest. Mrs. Sowler actually took it on herself to order
+her own supper!
+
+“Nothing cold to eat or drink for me,” she said. “Morning and night,
+waking and sleeping, I can’t keep myself warm. See for yourself, Jervy,
+how I’ve lost flesh since you first knew me! A steak, broiling hot from
+the gridiron, and gin-and-water, hotter still--that’s the supper for
+me.”
+
+“Take the order, waiter,” said Jervy, resignedly; “and let us see the
+private room.”
+
+The tavern was of the old-fashioned English sort, which scorns to learn
+a lesson of brightness and elegance from France. The private room can
+only be described as a museum for the exhibition of dirt in all its
+varieties. Behind the bars of the rusty little grate a dying fire was
+drawing its last breath. Mrs. Sowler clamoured for wood and coals;
+revived the fire with her own hands; and seated herself shivering as
+close to the fender as the chair would go. After a while, the composing
+effect of the heat began to make its influence felt: the head of
+the half-starved wretch sank: a species of stupor overcame her--half
+faintness, and half sleep.
+
+Phoebe and her sweetheart sat together, waiting the appearance of the
+supper, on a little sofa at the other end of the room. Having certain
+objects to gain, Jervy put his arm round her waist, and looked and spoke
+in his most insinuating manner.
+
+“Try and put up with Mother Sowler for an hour or two,” he said. “My
+sweet girl, I know she isn’t fit company for you! But how can I turn my
+back on an old friend?”
+
+“That’s just what surprises me,” Phoebe answered. “I don’t understand
+such a person being a friend of yours.”
+
+Always ready with the necessary lie, whenever the occasion called for
+it, Jervy invented a pathetic little story, in two short parts.
+First part: Mrs. Sowler, rich and respected; a widow inhabiting a
+villa-residence, and riding in her carriage. Second part: a villainous
+lawyer; misplaced confidence; reckless investments; death of the
+villain; ruin of Mrs. Sowler. “Don’t talk about her misfortunes when
+she wakes,” Jervy concluded, “or she’ll burst out crying, to a dead
+certainty. Only tell me, dear Phoebe, would _you_ turn your back on a
+forlorn old creature because she has outlived all her other friends, and
+hasn’t a farthing left in the world? Poor as I am, I can help her to a
+supper, at any rate.”
+
+Phoebe expressed her admiration of these noble sentiments by an
+inexpensive ebullition of tenderness, which failed to fulfill Jervy’s
+private anticipations. He had aimed straight at her purse--and he had
+only hit her heart! He tried a broad hint next. “I wonder whether I
+shall have a shilling or two left to give Mrs. Sowler, when I have paid
+for the supper?” He sighed, and pulled out some small change, and looked
+at it in eloquent silence. Phoebe was hit in the right place at last.
+She handed him her purse. “What is mine will be yours, when we are
+married,” she said; “why not now?” Jervy expressed his sense of
+obligation with the promptitude of a grateful man; he repeated
+those precious words, “My sweet girl!” Phoebe laid her head on his
+shoulder--and let him kiss her, and enjoyed it in silent ecstasy with
+half-closed eyes. The scoundrel waited and watched her, until she was
+completely under his influence. Then, and not till then, he risked the
+gradual revelation of the purpose which had induced him to withdraw from
+the hall, before the proceedings of the evening had reached their end.
+
+“Did you hear what Mrs. Sowler said to me, just before we left the
+lecture?” he asked.
+
+“No, dear.”
+
+“You remember that she asked me to tell her Farnaby’s address?”
+
+“Oh yes! And she wanted to know if he had ever gone by the name of
+Morgan. Ridiculous--wasn’t it?”
+
+“I’m not so sure of that, my dear. She told me, in so many words,
+that Farnaby owed her money. He didn’t make his fortune all at once, I
+suppose. How do we know what he might have done in his young days, or
+how he might have humbugged a feeble woman. Wait till our friend there
+at the fire has warmed her old bones with some hot grog--and I’ll find
+out something more about Farnaby’s debt.”
+
+“Why, dear? What is it to you?”
+
+Jervy reflected for a moment, and decided that the time had come to
+speak more plainly.
+
+“In the first place,” he said, “it would only be an act of common
+humanity, on my part, to help Mrs. Sowler to get her money. You see
+that, don’t you? Very well. Now, I am no Socialist, as you are aware;
+quite the contrary. At the same time, I am a remarkably just man; and
+I own I was struck by what Mr. Goldenheart said about the uses to which
+wealthy people are put, by the Rules at Tadmor. ‘The man who has got the
+money is bound, by the express law of Christian morality, to use it in
+assisting the man who has got none.’ Those were his words, as nearly as
+I can remember them. He put it still more strongly afterwards; he
+said, ‘A man who hoards up a large fortune, from a purely selfish
+motive--either because he is a miser, or because he looks only to the
+aggrandisement of his own family after his death--is, in either case,
+an essentially unchristian person, who stands in manifest need of
+enlightenment and control by Christian law.’ And then, if you remember,
+some of the people murmured; and Mr. Goldenheart stopped them by reading
+a line from the New Testament, which said exactly what he had been
+saying--only in fewer words. Now, my dear girl, Farnaby seems to me to
+be one of the many people pointed at in this young gentleman’s lecture.
+Judging by looks, I should say he was a hard man.”
+
+“That’s just what he is--hard as iron! Looks at his servants as if they
+were dirt under his feet; and never speaks a kind word to them from one
+year’s end to another.”
+
+“Suppose I guess again? He’s not particularly free-handed with his
+money--is he?”
+
+“He! He will spend anything on himself and his grandeur; but he never
+gave away a halfpenny in his life.”
+
+Jervy pointed to the fireplace, with a burst of virtuous indignation.
+“And there’s that poor old soul starving for want of the money he owes
+her! Damn it, I agree with the Socialists; it’s a virtue to make that
+sort of man bleed. Look at you and me! We are the very people he ought
+to help--we might be married at once, if we only knew where to find a
+little money. I’ve seen a deal of the world, Phoebe; and my experience
+tells me there’s something about that debt of Farnaby’s which he doesn’t
+want to have known. Why shouldn’t we screw a few five-pound notes for
+ourselves out of the rich miser’s fears?”
+
+Phoebe was cautious. “It’s against the law--ain’t it?” she said.
+
+“Trust me to keep clear of the law,” Jervy answered. “I won’t stir in
+the matter till I know for certain that he daren’t take the police into
+his confidence. It will be all easy enough when we are once sure of
+that. You have been long enough in the family to find out Farnaby’s weak
+side. Would it do, if we got at him, to begin with, through his wife?”
+
+Phoebe suddenly reddened to the roots of her hair. “Don’t talk to me
+about his wife!” she broke out fiercely; “I’ve got a day of reckoning to
+come with that lady--” She looked at Jervy and checked herself. He was
+watching her with an eager curiosity, which not even his ready cunning
+was quick enough to conceal.
+
+“I wouldn’t intrude on your little secrets, darling, for the world!” he
+said, in his most persuasive tones. “But, if you want advice, you know
+that I am heart and soul at your service.”
+
+Phoebe looked across the room at Mrs. Sowler, still nodding over the
+fire.
+
+“Never mind now,” she said; “I don’t think it’s a matter for a man to
+advise about--it’s between Mrs. Farnaby and me. Do what you like with
+her husband; I don’t care; he’s a brute, and I hate him. But there’s one
+thing I insist on--I won’t have Miss Regina frightened or annoyed; mind
+that! She’s a good creature. There, read the letter she wrote to me
+yesterday, and judge for yourself.”
+
+Jervy looked at the letter. It was not very long. He resignedly took
+upon himself the burden of reading it.
+
+
+“DEAR PHOEBE,
+
+“Don’t be downhearted. I am your friend always, and I will help you to
+get another place. I am sorry to say that it was indeed Mrs. Ormond who
+found us out that day. She had her suspicions, and she watched us, and
+told my aunt. This she owned to me with her own lips. She said, ‘I would
+do anything, my dear, to save you from an ill-assorted marriage.’ I am
+very wretched about it, because I can never look on her as my friend
+again. My aunt, as you know, is of Mrs. Ormond’s way of thinking. You
+must make allowances for her hot temper. Remember, out of your kindness
+towards me, you had been secretly helping forward the very thing which
+she was most anxious to prevent. That made her very angry; but, never
+fear, she will come round in time. If you don’t want to spend your
+little savings, while you are waiting for another situation, let me
+know. A share of my pocket-money is always at your service.
+
+“Your friend,
+
+“REGINA.”
+
+
+“Very nice indeed,” said Jervy, handing the letter back, and yawning as
+he did it. “And convenient, too, if we run short of money. Ah, here’s
+the waiter with the supper, at last! Now, Mrs. Sowler, there’s a time
+for everything--it’s time to wake up.”
+
+He lifted the old woman off her chair, and settled her before the
+table, like a child. The sight of the hot food and drink roused her to
+a tigerish activity. She devoured the meat with her eyes as well as her
+teeth; she drank the hot gin-and-water in fierce gulps, and set down
+the glass with audible gasps of relief. “Another one,” she cried, “and I
+shall begin to feel warm again!”
+
+Jervy, watching her from the opposite side of the table, with Phoebe
+close by him as usual, had his own motives for encouraging her to talk,
+by the easy means of encouraging her to drink. He sent for another glass
+of the hot grog. Phoebe, daintily picking up her oysters with her fork,
+affected to be shocked at Mrs. Sowler’s coarse method of eating and
+drinking. She kept her eyes on her plate, and only consented to
+taste malt liquor under modest protest. When Jervy lit a cigar, after
+finishing his supper, she reminded him, in an impressively genteel
+manner, of the consideration which he owed to the presence of an elderly
+lady. “I like it myself, dear,” she said mincingly; “but perhaps Mrs.
+Sowler objects to the smell?”
+
+Mrs. Sowler burst into a hoarse laugh. “Do I look as if I was likely to
+be squeamish about smells?” she asked, with the savage contempt for her
+own poverty, which was one of the dangerous elements in her character.
+“See the place I live in, young woman, and then talk about smells if you
+like!”
+
+This was indelicate. Phoebe picked a last oyster out of its shell, and
+kept her eyes modestly fixed on her plate. Observing that the second
+glass of gin-and-water was fast becoming empty, Jervy risked the first
+advances, on his way to Mrs. Sowler’s confidence.
+
+“About that debt of Farnaby’s?” he began. “Is it a debt of long
+standing?”
+
+Mrs. Sowler was on her guard. In other words, Mrs. Sowler’s head was
+only assailable by hot grog, when hot grog was administered in large
+quantities. She said it was a debt of long standing, and she said no
+more.
+
+“Has it been standing seven years?”
+
+Mrs. Sowler emptied her glass, and looked hard at Jervy across the
+table. “My memory isn’t good for much, at my time of life.” She gave him
+that answer, and she gave him no more.
+
+Jervy yielded with his best grace. “Try a third glass,” he said;
+“there’s luck, you know, in odd numbers.”
+
+Mrs. Sowler met this advance in the spirit in which it was made. She was
+obliging enough to consult her memory, even before the third glass made
+its appearance. “Seven years, did you say?” she repeated. “More than
+twice seven years, Jervy! What do you think of that?”
+
+Jervy wasted no time in thinking. He went on with his questions.
+
+“Are you quite sure that the man I pointed out to you, at the lecture,
+is the same man who went by the name of Morgan, and had his letters
+addressed to the public-house?”
+
+“Quite sure. I’d swear to him anywhere--only by his eyes.”
+
+“And have you never yet asked him to pay the debt?”
+
+“How could I ask him, when I never knew what his name was till you told
+me to-night?”
+
+“What amount of money does he owe you?”
+
+Whether Mrs. Sowler had her mind prophetically fixed on a fourth glass
+of grog, or whether she thought it time to begin asking questions on her
+own account, is not easy to say. Whatever her motive might be, she slyly
+shook her head, and winked at Jervy. “The money’s my business,” she
+remarked. “You tell me where he lives--and I’ll make him pay me.”
+
+Jervy was equal to the occasion. “You won’t do anything of the sort,” he
+said.
+
+Mrs. Sowler laughed defiantly. “So you think, my fine fellow!”
+
+“I don’t think at all, old lady--I’m certain. In the first place,
+Farnaby don’t owe you the debt by law, after seven years. In the second
+place, just look at yourself in the glass there. Do you think the
+servants will let you in, when you knock at Farnaby’s door? You want a
+clever fellow to help you--or you’ll never recover that debt.”
+
+Mrs. Sowler was accessible to reason (even half-way through her third
+glass of grog), when reason was presented to her in convincing terms.
+She came to the point at once. “How much do you want?” she asked.
+
+“Nothing,” Jervy answered; “I don’t look to _you_ to pay my commission.”
+
+Mrs. Sowler reflected a little--and understood him. “Say that again,”
+ she insisted, “in the presence of your young woman as witness.”
+
+Jervy touched his young woman’s hand under the table, warning her to
+make no objection, and to leave it to him. Having declared for the
+second time that he would not take a farthing from Mrs. Sowler, he went
+on with his inquiries.
+
+“I’m acting in your interests, Mother Sowler,” he said; “and you’ll be
+the loser, if you don’t answer my questions patiently, and tell me the
+truth. I want to go back to the debt. What is it for?”
+
+“For six weeks’ keep of a child, at ten shillings a week.”
+
+Phoebe looked up from her plate.
+
+“Whose child?” Jervy asked, noticing the sudden movement.
+
+“Morgan’s child--the same man you said was Farnaby.”
+
+“Do you know who the mother was?”
+
+“I wish I did! I should have got the money out of her long ago.”
+
+Jervy stole a look at Phoebe. She had turned pale; she was listening,
+with her eyes riveted on Mrs. Sowler’s ugly face.
+
+“How long ago was it?” Jervy went on.
+
+“Better than sixteen years.”
+
+“Did Farnaby himself give you the child?”
+
+“With his own hands, over the garden-paling of a house at Ramsgate. He
+saw me and the child into the train for London. I had ten pounds from
+him, and no more. He promised to see me, and settle everything, in a
+month’s time. I have never set eyes on him from that day, till I saw him
+paying his money this evening at the door of the hall.”
+
+Jervy stole another look at Phoebe. She was still perfectly unconscious
+that he was observing her. Her attention was completely absorbed by Mrs.
+Sowler’s replies. Speculating on the possible result, Jervy abandoned
+the question of the debt, and devoted his next inquiries to the subject
+of the child.
+
+“I promise you every farthing of your money, Mother Sowler,” he said,
+“with interest added to it. How old was the child when Farnaby gave it
+to you?”
+
+“Old? Not a week old, I should say!”
+
+“Not a week old?” Jervy repeated, with his eye on Phoebe. “Dear, dear
+me, a newborn baby, one may say!”
+
+The girl’s excitement was fast getting beyond control. She leaned across
+the table, in her eagerness to hear more.
+
+“And how long was this poor child under your care?” Jervy went on.
+
+“How can I tell you, at this distance of time? For some months, I should
+say. This I’m certain of--I kept it for six good weeks after the ten
+pounds he gave me were spent. And then--” she stopped, and looked at
+Phoebe.
+
+“And then you got rid of it?”
+
+Mrs. Sowler felt for Jervy’s foot under the table, and gave it a
+significant kick. “I have done nothing to be ashamed of, miss,” she
+said, addressing her answer defiantly to Phoebe. “Being too poor to keep
+the little dear myself, I placed it under the care of a good lady, who
+adopted it.”
+
+Phoebe could restrain herself no longer. She burst out with the next
+question, before Jervy could open his lips.
+
+“Do you know where the lady is now?”
+
+“No,” said Mrs. Sowler shortly; “I don’t.”
+
+“Do you know where to find the child?”
+
+Mrs. Sowler slowly stirred up the remains of her grog. “I know no more
+than you do. Any more questions, miss?”
+
+Phoebe’s excitement completely blinded her to the evident signs of a
+change in Mrs. Sowler’s temper for the worse. She went on headlong.
+
+“Have you never seen the child since you gave her to the lady?”
+
+Mrs. Sowler set down her glass, just as she was raising it to her lips.
+Jervy paused, thunderstruck, in the act of lighting a second cigar.
+
+_“Her?”_ Mrs. Sowler repeated slowly, her eyes fixed on Phoebe with
+a lowering expression of suspicion and surprise. “Her?” She turned to
+Jervy. “Did you ask me if the child was a girl or a boy?”
+
+“I never even thought of it,” Jervy replied.
+
+“Did I happen to say it myself, without being asked?”
+
+Jervy deliberately abandoned Phoebe to the implacable old wretch, before
+whom she had betrayed herself. It was the only likely way of forcing
+the girl to confess everything. “No,” he answered; “you never said it
+without being asked.”
+
+Mrs. Sowler turned once more to Phoebe. “How do you know the child was a
+girl?” she inquired.
+
+Phoebe trembled, and said nothing. She sat with her head down, and her
+hands, fast clasped together, resting on her lap.
+
+“Might I ask, if you please,” Mrs. Sowler proceeded, with a ferocious
+assumption of courtesy, “how old you are, miss? You’re young enough and
+pretty enough not to mind answering to your age, I’m sure.”
+
+Even Jervy’s villainous experience of the world failed to forewarn him
+of what was coming. Phoebe, it is needless to say, instantly fell into
+the trap.
+
+“Twenty-four,” she replied, “next birthday.”
+
+“And the child was put into my hands, sixteen years ago,” said Mrs.
+Sowler. “Take sixteen from twenty-four, and eight remains. I’m more
+surprised than ever, miss, at your knowing it to be a girl. It couldn’t
+have been your child--could it?”
+
+Phoebe started to her feet, in a state of fury. “Do you hear that?” she
+cried, appealing to Jervy. “How dare you bring me here to be insulted by
+that drunken wretch?”
+
+Mrs. Sowler rose, on her side. The old savage snatched up her empty
+glass--intending to throw it at Phoebe. At the same moment, the ready
+Jervy caught her by the arm, dragged her out of the room, and shut the
+door behind them.
+
+There was a bench on the landing outside. He pushed Mrs. Sowler down on
+the bench with one hand, and took Phoebe’s purse out of his pocket with
+the other. “Here’s a pound,” he said, “towards the recovery of that
+debt of yours. Go home quietly, and meet me at the door of this house
+tomorrow evening, at six.”
+
+Mrs. Sowler, opening her lips to protest, suddenly closed them again,
+fascinated by the sight of the gold. She clutched the coin, and became
+friendly and familiar in a moment. “Help me downstairs, deary,” she
+said, “and put me into a cab. I’m afraid of the night air.”
+
+“One word more, before I put you into a cab,” said Jervy. “What did you
+really do with the child?”
+
+Mrs. Sowler grinned hideously, and whispered her reply, in the strictest
+confidence.
+
+“Sold her to Moll Davies, for five-and-sixpence.”
+
+“Who was Moll Davis?”
+
+“A cadger.”
+
+“And you really know nothing now of Moll Davis or the child?”
+
+“Should I want you to help me if I did?” Mrs. Sowler asked
+contemptuously. “They may be both dead and buried, for all I know to the
+contrary.”
+
+Jervy put her into the cab, without further delay. “Now for the other
+one!” he said to himself, as he hurried back to the private room.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 5
+
+Some men would have found it no easy task to console Phoebe, under
+the circumstances. Jervy had the immense advantage of not feeling
+the slightest sympathy for her: he was in full command of his large
+resources of fluent assurance and ready flattery. In less than five
+minutes, Phoebe’s tears were dried, and her lover had his arm round her
+waist again, in the character of a cherished and forgiven man.
+
+“Now, my angel!” he said (Phoebe sighed tenderly; he had never called
+her his angel before), “tell me all about it in confidence. Only let
+me know the facts, and I shall see my way to protecting you against
+any annoyance from Mrs. Sowler in the future. You have made a very
+extraordinary discovery. Come closer to me, my dear girl. Did it happen
+in Farnaby’s house?”
+
+“I heard it in the kitchen,” said Phoebe.
+
+Jervy started. “Did any one else hear it?” he asked.
+
+“No. They were all in the housekeeper’s room, looking at the Indian
+curiosities which her son in Canada had sent to her. I had left my bird
+on the dresser--and I ran into the kitchen to put the cage in a safe
+place, being afraid of the cat. One of the swinging windows in the
+skylight was open; and I heard voices in the back room above, which is
+Mrs. Farnaby’s room.”
+
+“Whose voices did you hear?”
+
+“Mrs. Farnaby’s voice, and Mr. Goldenheart’s.”
+
+“Mrs. Farnaby?” Jervy repeated, in surprise. “Are you sure it was
+_Mrs.?”_
+
+“Of course I am! Do you think I don’t know that horrid woman’s voice?
+She was saying a most extraordinary thing when I first heard her--she
+was asking if there was anything wrong in showing her naked foot. And a
+man answered, and the voice was Mr. Goldenheart’s. You would have felt
+curious to hear more, if you had been in my place, wouldn’t you? I
+opened the second window in the kitchen, so as to make sure of not
+missing anything. And what do you think I heard her say?”
+
+“You mean Mrs. Farnaby?”
+
+“Yes. I heard her say, ‘Look at my right foot--you see there’s nothing
+the matter with it.’ And then, after a while, she said, ‘Look at my left
+foot--look between the third toe and the fourth.’ Did you ever hear of
+such a audacious thing for a married woman to say to a young man?”
+
+“Go on! go on! What did _he_ say?”
+
+“Nothing; I suppose he was looking at her foot.”
+
+“Her left foot?”
+
+“Yes. Her left foot was nothing to be proud of, I can tell you! By her
+own account, she has some horrid deformity in it, between the third toe
+and the fourth. No; I didn’t hear her say what the deformity was. I only
+heard her call it so--and she said her ‘poor darling’ was born with
+the same fault, and that was her defence against being imposed upon by
+rogues--I remember the very words--‘in the past days when I employed
+people to find her.’ Yes! she said _‘her.’_ I heard it plainly. And she
+talked afterwards of her ‘poor lost daughter’, who might be still living
+somewhere, and wondering who her mother was. Naturally enough, when I
+heard that hateful old drunkard talking about a child given to her by
+Mr. Farnaby, I put two and two together. Dear me, how strangely you
+look! What’s wrong with you?”
+
+“I’m only very much interested--that’s all. But there’s one thing I
+don’t understand. What had Mr. Goldenheart to do with all this?”
+
+“Didn’t I tell you?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“Well, then, I tell you now. Mrs. Farnaby is not only a heartless
+wretch, who turns a poor girl out of her situation, and refuses to give
+her a character--she’s a fool besides. That precious exhibition of her
+nasty foot was to inform Mr. Goldenheart of something she wanted him to
+know. If he happened to meet with a girl, in his walks or his travels,
+and if he found that she had the same deformity in the same foot, then
+he might know for certain--”
+
+“All right! I understand. But why Mr. Goldenheart?”
+
+“Because she had a dream that Mr. Goldenheart had found the lost girl,
+and because she thought there was one chance in a hundred that her dream
+might come true! Did you ever hear of such a fool before? From what I
+could make out, I believe she actually cried about it. And that same
+woman turns me into the street to be ruined, for all she knows or cares.
+Mind this! I would have kept her secret--it was no business of mine,
+after all--if she had behaved decently to me. As it is, I mean to be
+even with her; and what I heard down in the kitchen is more than enough
+to help me to it. I’ll expose her somehow--I don’t quite know how; but
+that will come with time. You will keep the secret, dear, I’m sure. We
+are soon to have all our secrets in common, when we are man and wife,
+ain’t we? Why, you’re not listening to me! What _is_ the matter with
+you?”
+
+Jervy suddenly looked up. His soft insinuating manner had vanished; he
+spoke roughly and impatiently.
+
+“I want to know something. Has Farnaby’s wife got money of her own?”
+
+Phoebe’s mind was still disturbed by the change in her lover. “You speak
+as if you were angry with me,” she said.
+
+Jervy recovered his insinuating tones, with some difficulty. “My
+dear girl, I love you! How can I be angry with you? You’ve set me
+thinking--and it bothers me a little, that’s all. Do you happen to know
+if Mrs. Farnaby has got money of her own?”
+
+Phoebe answered this time. “I’ve heard Miss Regina say that Mrs.
+Farnaby’s father was a rich man,” she said.
+
+“What was his name?”
+
+“Ronald.”
+
+“Do you know when he died?”
+
+“No.”
+
+Jervy fell into thought again, biting his nails in great perplexity.
+After a moment or two, an idea came to him. “The tombstone will tell
+me!” he exclaimed, speaking to himself. He turned to Phoebe, before she
+could express her surprise, and asked if she knew where Mr. Ronald was
+buried.
+
+“Yes,” said Phoebe, “I’ve heard that. In Highgate cemetery. But why do
+you want to know?”
+
+Jervy looked at his watch. “It’s getting late,” he said; “I’ll see you
+safe home.”
+
+“But I want to know--”
+
+“Put on your bonnet, and wait till we are out in the street.”
+
+Jervy paid the bill, with all needful remembrance of the waiter. He was
+generous, he was polite; but he was apparently in no hurry to favour
+Phoebe with the explanation that he had promised. They had left the
+tavern for some minutes--and he was still rude enough to remain absorbed
+in his own reflections. Phoebe’s patience gave way.
+
+“I have told you everything,” she said reproachfully; “I don’t call it
+fair dealing to keep me in the dark after that.”
+
+He roused himself directly. “My dear girl, you entirely mistake me!”
+
+The reply was as ready as usual; but it was spoken rather absently.
+Only that moment, he had decided on informing Phoebe (to some extent, at
+least) of the purpose which he was then meditating. He would infinitely
+have preferred using Mrs. Sowler as his sole accomplice. But he knew the
+girl too well to run that risk. If he refused to satisfy her curiosity,
+she would be deterred by no scruples of delicacy from privately watching
+him; and she might say something (either by word of month or by writing)
+to the kind young mistress who was in correspondence with her, which
+might lead to disastrous results. It was of the last importance to him,
+so far to associate Phoebe with his projected enterprise, as to give her
+an interest of her own in keeping his secrets.
+
+“I have not the least wish,” he resumed, “to conceal any thing from you.
+So far as I can see my way at present, you shall see it too.” Reserving
+in this dexterous manner the freedom of lying, whenever he found it
+necessary to depart from the truth, he smiled encouragingly, and waited
+to be questioned.
+
+Phoebe repeated the inquiry she had made at the tavern. “Why do you want
+to know where Mr. Ronald is buried?” she asked bluntly.
+
+“Mr. Ronald’s tombstone, my dear, will tell me the date of Mr. Ronald’s
+death,” Jervy rejoined. “When I have got the date, I shall go to a place
+near St. Paul’s, called Doctors’ Commons; I shall pay a shilling fee,
+and I shall have the privilege of looking at Mr. Ronald’s will.”
+
+“And what good will that do you?”
+
+“Very properly put, Phoebe! Even shillings are not to be wasted, in our
+position. But my shilling will buy two sixpennyworths of information.
+I shall find out what sum of money Mr. Ronald has left to his daughter;
+and I shall know for certain whether Mrs. Farnaby’s husband has any
+power over it, or not.”
+
+“Well?” said Phoebe, not much interested so far--“and what then?”
+
+Jervy looked about him. They were in a crowded thoroughfare at the time.
+He preserved a discreet silence, until they had arrived at the first
+turning which led down a quiet street.
+
+“What I have to tell you,” he said, “must not be accidentally heard by
+anybody. Here, my dear, we are all but out of the world--and here I can
+speak to you safely. I promise you two good things. You shall bring Mrs.
+Farnaby to that day of reckoning; and we will find money enough to marry
+on comfortably as soon as you like.”
+
+Phoebe’s languid interest in the subject began to revive: she insisted
+on having a clearer explanation than this. “Do you mean to get the money
+out of Mr. Farnaby?” she inquired.
+
+“I will have nothing to do with Mr. Farnaby--unless I find that his
+wife’s money is not at her own disposal. What you heard in the kitchen
+has altered all my plans. Wait a minute--and you will see what I am
+driving at. How much do you think Mrs. Farnaby would give me, if I found
+that lost daughter of hers?”
+
+Phoebe suddenly stood still, and looked at the sordid scoundrel who was
+tempting her in blank amazement.
+
+“But nobody knows where the daughter is,” she objected.
+
+“You and I know that the daughter has a deformity in her left foot,”
+ Jervy replied; “and you and I know exactly in what part of the foot it
+is. There’s not only money to be made out of that knowledge--but money
+made easily, without the slightest risk. Suppose I managed the matter by
+correspondence, without appearing in it personally? Don’t you think
+Mrs. Farnaby would open her purse beforehand, if I mentioned the exact
+position of that little deformity, as a proof that I was to be depended
+on?”
+
+Phoebe was unable, or unwilling, to draw the obvious conclusion, even
+now.
+
+“But, what would you do,” she said, “when Mrs. Farnaby insisted on
+seeing her daughter?”
+
+There was something in the girl’s tone--half fearful, half
+suspicious--which warned Jervy that he was treading on dangerous ground.
+He knew perfectly well what he proposed to do, in the case that had been
+so plainly put him. It was the simplest thing in the world. He had only
+to make an appointment with Mrs. Farnaby for a meeting on a future day,
+and to take to flight in the interval; leaving a polite note behind him
+to say that it was all a mistake, and that he regretted being too poor
+to return the money. Having thus far acknowledged the design he had in
+view, could he still venture on answering his companion without reserve?
+Phoebe was vain, Phoebe was vindictive; and, more promising still,
+Phoebe was a fool. But she was not yet capable of consenting to an act
+of the vilest infamy, in cold blood. Jervy looked at her--and saw that
+the foreseen necessity for lying had come at last.
+
+“That’s just the difficulty,” he said; “that’s just where I don’t see my
+way plainly yet. Can you advise me?”
+
+Phoebe started, and drew back from him. _“I_ advise you!” she exclaimed.
+“It frightens me to think of it. If you make her believe she is going to
+see her daughter, and if she finds out that you have robbed and deceived
+her, I can tell you this--with her furious temper--you would drive her
+mad.”
+
+Jervy’s reply was a model of well-acted indignation. “Don’t talk of
+anything so horrible,” he exclaimed. “If you believe me capable of such
+cruelty as that, go to Mrs. Farnaby, and warn her at once!”
+
+“It’s too bad to speak to me in that way!” Phoebe rejoined, with the
+frank impetuosity of an offended woman. “You know I would die, rather
+than get you into trouble. Beg my pardon directly--or I won’t walk
+another step with you!”
+
+Jervy made the necessary apologies, with all possible humility. He had
+gained his end--he could now postpone any further discussion of the
+subject, without arousing Phoebe’s distrust. “Let us say no more about
+it, for the present,” he suggested; “we will think it over, and talk
+of pleasanter things in the mean time. Kiss me, my dear girl; there’s
+nobody looking.”
+
+So he made peace with his sweetheart, and secured to himself, at the
+same time, the full liberty of future action of which he stood in need.
+If Phoebe asked any more questions, the necessary answer was obvious to
+the meanest capacity. He had merely to say, “The matter is beset with
+difficulties which I didn’t see at first--I have given it up.”
+
+Their nearest way back to Phoebe’s lodgings took them through the street
+which led to the Hampden Institution. Passing along the opposite side of
+the road, they saw the private door opened. Two men stepped out. A third
+man, inside, called after one of them. “Mr. Goldenheart! you have left
+the statement of receipts in the waiting-room.” “Never mind,” Amelius
+answered; “the night’s receipts are so small that I would rather not be
+reminded of them again.” “In my country,” a third voice remarked, “if
+he had lectured as he has lectured to-night, I reckon I’d have given him
+three hundred dollars, gold (sixty pounds, English currency), and have
+made my own profit by the transaction. The British nation has lost its
+taste, sir, for intellectual recreation. I wish you good evening.”
+
+Jervy hurried Phoebe out of the way, just as the two gentlemen were
+crossing the street. He had not forgotten events at Tadmor--and he was
+by no means eager to renew his former acquaintance with Amelius.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 6
+
+Rufus and his young friend walked together silently as far as a large
+square. Here they stopped, having reached the point at which it was
+necessary to take different directions on their way home.
+
+“I’ve a word of advice, my son, for your private ear,” said the New
+Englander. “The barometer behind your waistcoat points to a downhearted
+state of the moral atmosphere. Come along to home with me--you want a
+whisky cocktail badly.”
+
+“No, thank you, my dear fellow,” Amelius answered a little sadly. “I own
+I’m downhearted, as you say. You see, I expected this lecture to be a
+new opening for me. Personally, as you know, I don’t care two straws
+about money. But my marriage depends on my adding to my income; and the
+first attempt I’ve made to do it has ended in a total failure. I’m all
+abroad again, when I look to the future--and I’m afraid I’m fool enough
+to let it weigh on my spirits. No, the cocktail isn’t the right remedy
+for me. I don’t get the exercise and fresh air, here, that I used to get
+at Tadmor. My head burns after all that talking to-night. A good long
+walk will put me right, and nothing else will.”
+
+Rufus at once offered to accompany him. Amelius shook his head. “Did
+you ever walk a mile in your life, when you could ride?” he asked
+good-humouredly. “I mean to be on my legs for four or five hours; I
+should only have to send you home in a cab. Thank you, old fellow,
+for the brotherly interest you take in me. I’ll breakfast with you
+to-morrow, at your hotel. Good night.”
+
+Some curious prevision of evil seemed to trouble the mind of the
+good New Englander. He held Amelius fast by the hand: he said, very
+earnestly, “It goes against the grit with me to see you wandering off by
+yourself at this time of night--it does, I tell you! Do me a favour for
+once, my bright boy--go right away to bed.”
+
+Amelius laughed, and released his hand. “I shouldn’t sleep, if I did go
+to bed. Breakfast to-morrow, at ten o’clock. Goodnight, again!”
+
+He started on his walk, at a pace which set pursuit on the part of Rufus
+at defiance. The American stood watching him, until he was lost to sight
+in the darkness. “What a grip that young fellow has got on me, in no
+more than a few months!” Rufus thought, as he slowly turned away in
+the direction of his hotel. “Lord send the poor boy may keep clear of
+mischief this night!”
+
+Meanwhile, Amelius walked on swiftly, straight before him, careless in
+what direction he turned his steps, so long as he felt the cool air and
+kept moving.
+
+His thoughts were not at first occupied with the doubtful question of
+his marriage; the lecture was still the uppermost subject in his mind.
+He had reserved for the conclusion of his address the justification of
+his view of the future, afforded by the widespread and frightful poverty
+among the millions of the population of London alone. On this melancholy
+theme he had spoken with the eloquence of true feeling, and had produced
+a strong impression, even on those members of the audience who were most
+resolutely opposed to the opinions which he advocated. Without any undue
+exercise of self-esteem, he could look back on the close of his lecture
+with the conviction that he had really done justice to himself and to
+his cause. The retrospect of the public discussion that had followed
+failed to give him the same pleasure. His warm temper, his vehemently
+sincere belief in the truth of his own convictions, placed him at a
+serious disadvantage towards the more self-restrained speakers (all
+older than himself) who rose, one after another, to combat his views.
+More than once he had lost his temper, and had been obliged to make
+his apologies. More than once he had been indebted to the ready help
+of Rufus, who had taken part in the battle of words, with the generous
+purpose of covering his retreat. “No!” he thought to himself, with
+bitter humility, “I’m not fit for public discussions. If they put me
+into Parliament tomorrow, I should only get called to order and do
+nothing.”
+
+He reached the bank of the Thames, at the eastward end of the Strand.
+
+Walking straight on, as absently as ever, he crossed Waterloo Bridge,
+and followed the broad street that lay before him on the other side. He
+was thinking of the future again: Regina was in his mind now. The one
+prospect that he could see of a tranquil and happy life--with duties as
+well as pleasures; duties that might rouse him to find the vocation
+for which he was fit--was the prospect of his marriage. What was
+the obstacle that stood in his way? The vile obstacle of money; the
+contemptible spirit of ostentation which forbade him to live humbly on
+his own sufficient little income, and insisted that he should purchase
+domestic happiness at the price of the tawdry splendour of a rich
+tradesman and his friends. And Regina, who was free to follow her
+own better impulses--Regina, whose heart acknowledged him as its
+master--bowed before the golden image which was the tutelary deity of
+her uncle’s household, and said resignedly, Love must wait!
+
+Still walking blindly on, he was roused on a sudden to a sense of
+passing events. Crossing a side-street at the moment, a man caught him
+roughly by the arm, and saved him from being run over. The man had a
+broom in his hand; he was a crossing-sweeper. “I think I’ve earned my
+penny, sir!” he said.
+
+Amelius gave him half-a-crown. The man shouldered his broom, and tossed
+up the money, in a transport of delight. “Here’s something to go home
+with!” he cried, as he caught the half-crown again.
+
+“Have you got a family at home?” Amelius asked.
+
+“Only one, sir,” said the man. “The others are all dead. She’s as good
+a girl and as pretty a girl as ever put on a petticoat--though I say it
+that shouldn’t. Thank you kindly, sir. Good night!”
+
+Amelius looked after the poor fellow, happy at least for that night! “If
+I had only been lucky enough to fall in love with the crossing-sweeper’s
+daughter,” he thought bitterly, _“she_ would have married me when I
+asked her.”
+
+He looked along the street. It curved away in the distance, with no
+visible limit to it. Arrived at the next side-street on his left,
+Amelius turned down it, weary of walking longer in the same direction.
+Whither it might lead him he neither knew nor cared. In his present
+humour it was a pleasurable sensation to feel himself lost in London.
+
+The short street suddenly widened; a blaze of flaring gaslight dazzled
+his eyes; he heard all round him the shouting of innumerable voices. For
+the first time since he had been in London, he found himself in one of
+the street-markets of the poor.
+
+On either side of the road, the barrows of the costermongers--the
+wandering tradesmen of the highway--were drawn up in rows; and every man
+was advertising his wares, by means of the cheap publicity of his own
+voice. Fish and vegetables; pottery and writing-paper; looking-glasses,
+saucepans, and coloured prints--all appealed together to the scantily
+filled purses of the crowds who thronged the pavement. One lusty
+vagabond stood up in a rickety donkey-cart, knee-deep in apples, selling
+a great wooden measure full for a penny, and yelling louder than all the
+rest. “Never was such apples sold in the public streets before! Sweet
+as flowers, and sound as a bell. Who says the poor ain’t looked after,”
+ cried the fellow, with ferocious irony, “when they can have such
+apple-sauce as this to their loin of pork? Here’s nobby apples; here’s
+a penn’orth for your money. Sold again! Hullo, you! you look hungry.
+Catch! there’s an apple for nothing, just to taste. Be in time, be in
+time before they’re all sold!” Amelius moved forward a few steps, and
+was half deafened by rival butchers, shouting, “Buy, buy, buy!” to
+audiences of ragged women, who fingered the meat doubtfully, with
+longing eyes. A little farther--and there was a blind man selling
+staylaces, and singing a Psalm; and, beyond him again, a broken-down
+soldier playing “God save the Queen” on a tin flageolet. The one silent
+person in this sordid carnival was a Lascar beggar, with a printed
+placard round his neck, addressed to “The Charitable Public.” He held
+a tallow candle to illuminate the copious narrative of his misfortunes;
+and the one reader he obtained was a fat man, who scratched his head,
+and remarked to Amelius that he didn’t like foreigners. Starving boys
+and girls lurked among the costermongers’ barrows, and begged piteously
+on pretence of selling cigar-lights and comic songs. Furious women stood
+at the doors of public-houses, and railed on their drunken husbands for
+spending the house-money in gin. A thicker crowd, towards the middle of
+the street, poured in and out at the door of a cookshop. Here the people
+presented a less terrible spectacle--they were even touching to see.
+These were the patient poor, who bought hot morsels of sheep’s heart
+and liver at a penny an ounce, with lamentable little mouthfuls of
+peas-pudding, greens, and potatoes at a halfpenny each. Pale children
+in corners supped on penny basins of soup, and looked with hungry
+admiration at their enviable neighbours who could afford to buy stewed
+eels for twopence. Everywhere there was the same noble resignation to
+their hard fate, in old and young alike. No impatience, no complaints.
+In this wretched place, the language of true gratitude was still to be
+heard, thanking the good-natured cook for a little spoonful of
+gravy thrown in for nothing--and here, humble mercy that had its one
+superfluous halfpenny to spare gave that halfpenny to utter destitution,
+and gave it with right good-will. Amelius spent all his shillings and
+sixpences, in doubling and trebling the poor little pennyworths of
+food--and left the place with tears in his eyes.
+
+He was near the end of the street by this time. The sight of the misery
+about him, and the sense of his own utter inability to remedy it,
+weighed heavily on his spirits. He thought of the peaceful and
+prosperous life at Tadmor. Were his happy brethren of the Community and
+these miserable people about him creatures of the same all-merciful God?
+The terrible doubts which come to all thinking men--the doubts which are
+not to be stifled by crying “Oh, fie!” in a pulpit--rose darkly in his
+mind. He quickened his pace. “Let me let out of it,” he said to himself,
+“let me get out of it!”
+
+
+
+
+BOOK THE SIXTH. FILIA DOLOROSA
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 1
+
+Amelius found it no easy matter to pass quickly through the people
+loitering and gossiping about him. There was greater freedom for a rapid
+walker in the road. He was on the point of stepping off the pavement,
+when a voice behind him--a sweet soft voice, though it spoke very
+faintly--said, “Are you good-natured, sir?”
+
+He turned, and found himself face to face with one of the saddest
+sisterhood on earth--the sisterhood of the streets.
+
+His heart ached as he looked at her, she was so poor and so young. The
+lost creature had, to all appearance, barely passed the boundary between
+childhood and girlhood--she could hardly be more than fifteen or sixteen
+years old. Her eyes, of the purest and loveliest blue, rested on Amelius
+with a vacantly patient look, like the eyes of a suffering child. The
+soft oval outline of her face would have been perfect if the cheeks
+had been filled out; they were wasted and hollow, and sadly pale. Her
+delicate lips had none of the rosy colour of youth; and her finely
+modelled chin was disfigured by a piece of plaster covering some injury.
+She was little and thin; her worn and scanty clothing showed her frail
+youthful figure still waiting for its perfection of growth. Her pretty
+little bare hands were reddened by the raw night air. She trembled as
+Amelius looked at her in silence, with compassionate wonder. But for the
+words in which she had accosted him, it would have been impossible to
+associate her with the lamentable life that she led. The appearance of
+the girl was artlessly virginal and innocent; she looked as if she had
+passed through the contamination of the streets without being touched
+by it, without fearing it, or feeling it, or understanding it. Robed in
+pure white, with her gentle blue eyes raised to heaven, a painter might
+have shown her on his canvas as a saint or an angel; and the critical
+world would have said, Here is the true ideal--Raphael himself might
+have painted this!
+
+“You look very pale,” said Amelius. “Are you ill?”
+
+“No, sir--only hungry.”
+
+Her eyes half closed; she reeled from sheer weakness as she said the
+words. Amelius held her up, and looked round him. They were close to
+a stall at which coffee and slices of bread-and-butter were sold. He
+ordered some coffee to be poured out, and offered her the food. She
+thanked him and tried to eat. “I can’t help it, sir,” she said faintly.
+The bread dropped from her hand; her weary head sank on his shoulder.
+
+Two young women--older members of the sad sisterhood--were passing at
+the moment. “She’s too far gone, sir, to eat,” said one of them. “I know
+what would do her good, if you don’t mind going into a public-house.”
+
+“Where is it?” said Amelius. “Be quick!”
+
+One of the women led the way. The other helped Amelius to support the
+girl. They entered the crowded public-house. In less than a minute, the
+first woman had forced her way through the drunken customers at the bar,
+and had returned with a glass of port-wine and cloves. The girl revived
+as the stimulant passed her lips. She opened her innocent blue eyes
+again, in vague surprise. “I shan’t die this time,” she said quietly.
+
+A corner of the place was not occupied; a small empty cask stood there.
+Amelius made the poor creature sit down and rest a little. He had only
+gold in his purse; and, when the woman had paid for the wine, he offered
+her some of the change. She declined to take it. “I’ve got a shilling or
+two, sir,” she said; “and I can take care of myself. Give it to Simple
+Sally.”
+
+“You’ll save her a beating, sir, for one night at least,” said the other
+woman. “We call her Simple Sally, because she’s a little soft, poor
+soul--hasn’t grown up, you know, in her mind, since she was a child.
+Give her some of your change, sir, and you’ll be doing a kind thing.”
+
+All that is most unselfish, all that is most divinely compassionate and
+self-sacrificing in a woman’s nature, was as beautiful and as undefiled
+as ever in these women--the outcasts of the hard highway!
+
+Amelius turned to the girl. Her head had sunk on her bosom; she was half
+asleep. She looked up as he approached her.
+
+“Would you have been beaten to-night,” he asked, “if you had not met
+with me?”
+
+“Father always beats me, sir,” said Simple Sally, “if I don’t bring
+money home. He threw a knife at me last night. It didn’t hurt much--it
+only cut me here,” said the girl, pointing to the plaster on her chin.
+
+One of the women touched Amelius on the shoulder, and whispered to him.
+“He’s no more her father, sir, than I am. She’s a helpless creature--and
+he takes advantage of her. If I only had a place to take her to, he
+should never set eyes on her again. Show the gentleman your bosom,
+Sally.”
+
+She opened her poor threadbare little shawl. Over the lovely girlish
+breast, still only growing to the rounded beauty of womanhood, there was
+a hideous blue-black bruise. Simple Sally smiled, and said, “That _did_
+hurt me, sir. I’d rather have the knife.”
+
+Some of the nearest drinkers at the bar looked round and laughed.
+Amelius tenderly drew the shawl over the girl’s cold bosom. “For God’s
+sake, let us get away from this place!” he said.
+
+The influence of the cool night air completed Simple Sally’s recovery.
+She was able to eat now. Amelius proposed retracing his steps to the
+provision-shop, and giving her the best food that the place afforded.
+She preferred the bread-and-butter at the coffee-stall. Those thick
+slices, piled up on the plate, tempted her as a luxury. On trying the
+luxury, one slice satisfied her. “I thought I was hungry enough to eat
+the whole plateful,” said the girl, turning away from the stall, in the
+vacantly submissive manner which it saddened Amelius to see. He bought
+more of the bread-and-butter, on the chance that her appetite might
+revive. While he was wrapping it in a morsel of paper, one of her elder
+companions touched him and whispered, “There he is, sir!” Amelius looked
+at her. “The brute who calls himself her father,” the woman explained
+impatiently.
+
+Amelius turned, and saw Simple Sally with her arm in the grasp of a
+half-drunken ruffian; one of the swarming wild beasts of Low London,
+dirtied down from head to foot to the colour of the street mud--the
+living danger and disgrace of English civilization. As Amelius eyed him,
+he drew the girl away a step or two. “You’ve got a gentleman this time,”
+ he said to her; “I shall expect gold to-night, or else--!” He finished
+the sentence by lifting his monstrous fist, and shaking it in her
+face. Cautiously as he had lowered his tones in speaking, the words had
+reached the keenly sensitive ears of Amelius. Urged by his hot temper,
+he sprang forward. In another moment, he would have knocked the brute
+down--but for the timely interference of the arm of the law, clad in a
+policeman’s great-coat. “Don’t get yourself into trouble, sir,” said the
+man good-humouredly. “Now, you Hell-fire (that’s the nice name they know
+him by, sir, in these parts), be off with you!” The wild beast on two
+legs cowered at the voice of authority, like the wild beast on four: he
+was lost to sight, at the dark end of the street, in a moment.
+
+“I saw him threaten her with his fist,” said Amelius, his eyes still
+aflame with indignation. “He has bruised her frightfully on the breast.
+Is there no protection for the poor creature?”
+
+“Well, sir,” the policeman answered, “you can summon him if you like. I
+dare say he’d get a month’s hard labour. But, don’t you see, it would be
+all the worse for her when he came out of prison.”
+
+The policeman’s view of the girl’s position was beyond dispute. Amelius
+turned to her gently; she was shivering with cold or terror, perhaps
+with both. “Tell me,” he said, “is that man really your father?”
+
+“Lord bless you, sir!” interposed the policeman, astonished at the
+gentleman’s simplicity, “Simple Sally hasn’t got father or mother--have
+you, my girl?”
+
+She paid no heed to the policeman. The sorrow and sympathy, plainly
+visible in Amelius, filled her with a childish interest and surprise.
+She dimly understood that it was sorrow and sympathy for _her._ The
+bare idea of distressing this new friend, so unimaginably kind and
+considerate, seemed to frighten her. “Don’t fret about _me,_ sir,” she
+said timidly; “I don’t mind having no father nor mother; I don’t mind
+being beaten.” She appealed to the nearest of her two women-friends. “We
+get used to everything, don’t we, Jenny?”
+
+Amelius could bear no more. “It’s enough to break one’s heart to hear
+you, and see you!” he burst out--and suddenly turned his head aside. His
+generous nature was touched to the quick; he could only control himself
+by an effort of resolution that shook him, body and soul. “I can’t and
+won’t let that unfortunate creature go back to be beaten and starved!”
+ he said, passionately addressing himself to the policeman. “Oh, look at
+her! How helpless, and how young!”
+
+The policeman stared. These were strange words to him. But all true
+emotion carries with it, among all true people, its own title to
+respect. He spoke to Amelius with marked respect.
+
+“It’s a hard case, sir, no doubt,” he said. “The girl’s a quiet,
+well-disposed creature--and the other two there are the same. They’re of
+the sort that keep to themselves, and don’t drink. They all of them do
+well enough, as long as they don’t let the liquor overcome them. Half
+the time it’s the men’s fault when they do drink. Perhaps the workhouse
+might take her in for the night. What’s this you’ve got girl, in your
+hand? Money?”
+
+Amelius hastened to say that he had given her the money. “The
+workhouse!” he repeated. “The very sound of it is horrible.”
+
+“Make your mind easy, sir,” said the policeman; “they won’t take her in
+at the workhouse, with money in her hand.”
+
+In sheer despair, Amelius asked helplessly if there was no hotel near.
+The policeman pointed to Simple Sally’s threadbare and scanty clothes,
+and left them to answer the question for themselves. “There’s a place
+they call a coffee-house,” he said, with the air of a man who thought
+he had better provoke as little further inquiry on that subject as
+possible.
+
+Too completely pre-occupied, or too innocent in the ways of London,
+to understand the man, Amelius decided on trying the coffee-house. A
+suspicious old woman met them at the door, and spied the policeman in
+the background. Without waiting for any inquiries, she said, “All full
+for to-night,”--and shut the door in their faces.
+
+“Is there no other place?” said Amelius.
+
+“There’s a lodging-house,” the policeman answered, more doubtfully than
+ever. “It’s getting late, sir; and I’m afraid you’ll find ‘em packed
+like herrings in a barrel. Come, and see for yourself.”
+
+He led the way into a wretchedly lighted by-street, and knocked with
+his foot on a trap-door in the pavement. The door was pushed open from
+below, by a sturdy boy with a dirty night-cap on his head.
+
+“Any of ‘em wanted to-night, sir?” asked the sturdy boy, the moment he
+saw the policeman.
+
+“What does he mean?” said Amelius.
+
+“There’s a sprinkling of thieves among them, sir,” the policeman
+explained. “Stand out of the way, Jacob, and let the gentleman look in.”
+
+He produced his lantern, and directed the light downwards, as he spoke.
+Amelius looked in. The policeman’s figure of speech, likening the
+lodgers to “herrings in a barrel,” accurately described the scene.
+On the floor of a kitchen, men, women, and children lay all huddled
+together in closely packed rows. Ghastly faces rose terrified out of
+the seething obscurity, when the light of the lantern fell on them. The
+stench drove Amelius back, sickened and shuddering.
+
+“How’s the sore place on your head, Jacob?” the policeman inquired.
+“This is a civil boy,” he explained to Amelius, “and I like to encourage
+him.”
+
+“I’m getting better, sir, as fast as I can,” said the boy.
+
+“Good night, Jacob.”
+
+“Good night, sir.” The trap-door fell--and the lodging-house disappeared
+like the vision of a frightful dream.
+
+There was a moment of silence among the little group on the pavement. It
+was not easy to solve the question of what to do next. “There seems to
+be some difficulty,” the policeman remarked, “about housing this girl
+for the night.”
+
+“Why shouldn’t we take her along with us?” one of the women suggested.
+“She won’t mind sleeping three in a bed, I know.”
+
+“What are you thinking of?” the other woman remonstrated. “When he finds
+she don’t come home, our place will be the first place he looks for her
+in.”
+
+Amelius settled the difficulty, in his own headlong way, “I’ll take care
+of her for the night,” he said. “Sally, will you trust yourself with
+me?”
+
+She put her hand in his, with the air of a child who was ready to go
+home. Her wan face brightened for the first time. “Thank you, sir,” she
+said; “I’ll go anywhere along with you.”
+
+The policeman smiled. The two women looked thunderstruck. Before they
+had recovered themselves, Amelius forced them to take some money from
+him, and cordially shook hands with them. “You’re good creatures,” he
+said, in his eager, hearty way; “I’m sincerely sorry for you. Now, Mr.
+Policeman, show me where to find a cab--and take that for the trouble I
+am giving you. You’re a humane man, and a credit to the force.”
+
+In five minutes more, Amelius was on the way to his lodgings, with
+Simple Sally by his side. The act of reckless imprudence which he was
+committing was nothing but an act of Christian duty, to his mind. Not
+the slightest misgiving troubled him. “I shall provide for her in some
+way!” he thought to himself cheerfully. He looked at her. The weary
+outcast was asleep already in her corner of the cab. From time to time
+she still shivered, even in her sleep. Amelius took off his great-coat,
+and covered her with it. How some of his friends at the club would have
+laughed, if they had seen him at that moment!
+
+He was obliged to wake her when the cab stopped. His key admitted them
+to the house. He lit his candle in the hall, and led her up the stairs.
+“You’ll soon be asleep again, Sally,” he whispered.
+
+She looked round the little sitting-room with drowsy admiration. “What a
+pretty place to live in!” she said.
+
+“Are you hungry again?” Amelius asked.
+
+She shook her head, and took off her shabby bonnet; her pretty
+light-brown hair fell about her face and her shoulders. “I think I’m too
+tired, sir, to be hungry. Might I take the sofa-pillow, and lay down on
+the hearth-rug?”
+
+Amelius opened the door of his bedroom. “You are to pass the night more
+comfortably than that,” he answered. “There is a bed for you here.”
+
+She followed him in, and looked round the bedroom, with renewed
+admiration of everything that she saw. At the sight of the hairbrushes
+and the comb, she clapped her hands in ecstasy. “Oh, how different from
+mine!” she exclaimed. “Is the comb tortoise-shell, sir, like one sees
+in the shop-windows?” The bath and the towels attracted her next; she
+stood, looking at them with longing eyes, completely forgetful of the
+wonderful comb. “I’ve often peeped into the ironmongers’ shops,” she
+said, “and thought I should be the happiest girl in the world, if I had
+such a bath as that. A little pitcher is all I have got of my own, and
+they swear at me when I want it filled more than once. In all my life, I
+have never had as much water as I should like.” She paused, and thought
+for a moment. The forlorn, vacant look appeared again, and dimmed the
+beauty of her blue eyes. “It will be hard to go back, after seeing all
+these pretty things,” she said to herself--and sighed, with that inborn
+submission to her fate so melancholy to see in a creature so young.
+
+“You shall never go back again to that dreadful life,” Amelius
+interposed. “Never speak of it, never think of it any more. Oh, don’t
+look at me like that!”
+
+She was listening with an expression of pain, and with both her hands
+lifted to her head. There was something so wonderful in the idea which
+he had suggested to her, that her mind was not able to take it all in
+at once. “You make my head giddy,” she said. “I’m such a poor stupid
+girl--I feel out of myself, like, when a gentleman like you sets me
+thinking of new things. Would you mind saying it again, sir?”
+
+“I’ll say it to-morrow morning,” Amelius rejoined kindly. “You are
+tired, Sally--go to rest.”
+
+She roused herself, and looked at the bed. “Is that your bed, sir?”
+
+“It’s your bed to-night,” said Amelius. “I shall sleep on the sofa, in
+the next room.”
+
+Her eyes rested on him, for a moment, in speechless surprise; she looked
+back again at the bed. “Are you going to leave me by myself?” she asked
+wonderingly. Not the faintest suggestion of immodesty--nothing that
+the most profligate man living could have interpreted impurely--showed
+itself in her look or manner, as she said those words.
+
+Amelius thought of what one of her women-friends had told him. “She
+hasn’t grown up, you know, in her mind, since she was a child.” There
+were other senses in the poor victim that were still undeveloped,
+besides the mental sense. He was at a loss how to answer her, with the
+respect which was due to that all-atoning ignorance. His silence amazed
+and frightened her.
+
+“Have I said anything to make you angry with me?” she asked.
+
+Amelius hesitated no longer. “My poor girl,” he said, “I pity you from
+the bottom of my heart! Sleep well, Simple Sally--sleep well.” He left
+her hurriedly, and shut the door between them.
+
+She followed him as far as the closed door; and stood there alone,
+trying to understand him, and trying all in vain! After a while, she
+found courage enough to whisper through the door. “If you please, sir--”
+ She stopped, startled by her own boldness. He never heard her; he was
+standing at the window, looking out thoughtfully at the night; feeling
+less confident of the future already. She still stood at the door,
+wretched in the firm persuasion that she had offended him. Once she
+lifted her hand to knock at the door, and let it drop again at her
+side. A second time she made the effort, and desperately summoned the
+resolution to knock. He opened the door directly.
+
+“I’m very sorry if I said anything wrong,” she began faintly, her breath
+coming and going in quick hysteric gasps. “Please forgive me, and wish
+me good night.” Amelius took her hand; he said good night with the
+utmost gentleness, but he said it sorrowfully. She was not quite
+comforted yet. “Would you mind, sir--?” She paused awkwardly, afraid
+to go on. There was something so completely childlike in the artless
+perplexity of her eyes, that Amelius smiled. The change in his
+expression gave her back her courage in an instant; her pale delicate
+lips reflected his smile prettily. “Would you mind giving me a kiss,
+sir?” she said. Amelius kissed her. Let the man who can honestly say he
+would have done otherwise, blame him. He shut the door between them once
+more. She was quite happy now. He heard her singing to herself as she
+got ready for bed.
+
+Once, in the wakeful watches of the night, she startled him. He heard a
+cry of pain or terror in the bedroom. “What is it?” he asked through the
+door; “what has frightened you?” There was no answer. After a minute or
+two, the cry was repeated. He opened the door, and looked in. She was
+sleeping, and dreaming as she slept. One little thin white arm was
+lifted in the air, and waved restlessly to and fro over her head. “Don’t
+kill me!” she murmured, in low moaning tones--“oh, don’t kill me!”
+ Amelius took her arm gently, and laid it back on the coverlet of the
+bed. His touch seemed to exercise some calming influence over her: she
+sighed, and turned her head on the pillow; a faint flush rose on her
+wasted cheeks, and passed away again--she sank quietly into dreamless
+sleep.
+
+Amelius returned to his sofa, and fell into a broken slumber. The
+hours of the night passed. The sad light of the November morning dawned
+mistily through the uncurtained window, and woke him.
+
+He started up, and looked at the bedroom door. “Now what is to be done?”
+ That was his first thought, on waking: he was beginning to feel his
+responsibilities at last.
+
+
+CHAPTER 2
+
+The landlady of the lodgings decided what was to be done.
+
+“You will be so good, sir, as to leave my apartments immediately,” she
+said to Amelius. “I make no claim to the week’s rent, in consideration
+of the short notice. This is a respectable house, and it shall be kept
+respectable at any sacrifice.”
+
+Amelius explained and protested; he appealed to the landlady’s sense of
+justice and sense of duty, as a Christian woman.
+
+The reasoning which would have been irresistible at Tadmor was reasoning
+completely thrown away in London. The landlady remained as impenetrable
+as the Egyptian Sphinx. “If that creature in the bedroom is not out
+of my house in an hour’s time, I shall send for the police.” Having
+answered her lodger’s arguments in those terms, she left the room, and
+banged the door after her.
+
+“Thank you, sir, for being so kind to me. I’ll go away directly--and
+then, perhaps, the lady will forgive you.”
+
+Amelius looked round. Simple Sally had heard it all. She was dressed in
+her wretched clothes, and was standing at the open bedroom door, crying,
+
+“Wait a little,” said Amelius, wiping her eyes with his own
+handkerchief; “and we will go away together. I want to get you some
+better clothes; and I don’t exactly know how to set about it. Don’t cry,
+my dear--don’t cry.”
+
+The deaf maid-of-all-work came in, as he spoke. She too was in tears.
+Amelius had been good to her, in many little ways--and she was the
+guilty person who had led to the discovery in the bedroom. “If you had
+only told me, sir,” she said pentitently, “I’d have kep’ it secret. But,
+there, I went in with your ‘ot water, as usual, and, O Lor’, I was that
+startled I dropped the jug, and run downstairs again--!”
+
+Amelius stopped the further progress of the apology. “I don’t blame you,
+Maria,” he said; “I’m in a difficulty. Help me out of it; and you will
+do me a kindness.”
+
+Maria partially heard him, and no more. Afraid of reaching the
+landlady’s ears, as well as the maid’s ears, if he raised his voice, he
+asked if she could read writing. Yes, she could read writing, if it was
+plain. Amelius immediately reduced the expression of his necessities to
+writing, in large text. Maria was delighted. She knew the nearest shop
+at which ready-made outer clothing for women could be obtained, and
+nothing was wanted, as a certain guide to an ignorant man, but two
+pieces of string. With one piece, she measured Simple Sally’s height,
+and with the other she took the slender girth of the girl’s waist--while
+Amelius opened his writing-desk, and supplied himself with the last sum
+of spare money that he possessed. He had just closed the desk again,
+when the voice of the merciless landlady was heard, calling imperatively
+for Maria.
+
+The maid-of-all-work handed the two indicative strings to Amelius.
+“They’ll ‘elp you at the shop,” she said--and shuffled out of the room.
+
+Amelius turned to Simple Sally. “I am going to get you some new
+clothes,” he began.
+
+The girl stopped him there: she was incapable of listening to a word
+more. Every trace of sorrow vanished from her face in an instant. She
+clapped her hands. “Oh!” she cried, “new clothes! clean clothes! Let me
+go with you.”
+
+Even Amelius saw that it was impossible to take her out in the streets
+with him in broad daylight, dressed as she was then. “No, no,” he said,
+“wait here till you get your new things. I won’t be half an hour gone.
+Lock yourself in if you’re afraid, and open the door to nobody till I
+come back!”
+
+Sally hesitated; she began to look frightened.
+
+“Think of the new dress, and the pretty bonnet,” suggested Amelius,
+speaking unconsciously in the tone in which he might have promised a toy
+to a child.
+
+He had taken the right way with her. Her face brightened again. “I’ll do
+anything you tell me,” she said.
+
+He put the key in her hand, and was out in the street directly.
+
+Amelius possessed one valuable moral quality which is exceedingly rare
+among Englishmen. He was not in the least ashamed of putting himself
+in a ridiculous position, when he was conscious that his own motives
+justified him. The smiling and tittering of the shop-women, when he
+stated the nature of his errand, and produced his two pieces of string,
+failed to annoy him in the smallest degree. He laughed too. “Funny,
+isn’t it,” he said, “a man like me buying gowns and the rest of it? She
+can’t come herself--and you’ll advise me, like good creatures, won’t
+you?” They advised their handsome young customer to such good purpose,
+that he was in possession of a gray walking costume, a black cloth
+jacket, a plain lavender-coloured bonnet, a pair of black gloves, and
+a paper of pins, in little more than ten minutes’ time. The nearest
+trunk-maker supplied a travelling-box to hold all these treasures; and a
+passing cab took Amelius back to his lodgings, just as the half-hour
+was out. But one event had happened during his absence. The landlady had
+knocked at the door, had called through it in a terrible voice, “Half an
+hour more!” and had retired again without waiting for an answer.
+
+Amelius carried the box into the bedroom. “Be as quick as you can,
+Sally,” he said--and left her alone, to enjoy the full rapture of
+discovering the new clothes.
+
+When she opened the door and showed herself, the change was so wonderful
+that Amelius was literally unable to speak to her. Joy flushed her pale
+cheeks, and diffused its tender radiance over her pure blue eyes. A more
+charming little creature, in that momentary transfiguration of pride
+and delight, no man’s eyes ever looked on. She ran across the room to
+Amelius, and threw her arms round his neck. “Let me be your servant!”
+ she cried; “I want to live with you all my life. Jump me up! I’m wild--I
+want to fly through the window.” She caught sight of herself in the
+looking-glass, and suddenly became composed and serious. “Oh,” she said,
+with the quaintest mixture of awe and astonishment, “was there ever such
+another bonnet as this? Do look at it--do please look at it!”
+
+Amelius good-naturedly approached to look at it. At the same moment
+the sitting-room door was opened, without any preliminary ceremony of
+knocking--and Rufus walked into the room. “It’s half after ten,” he
+said, “and the breakfast is spoiling as fast as it can.”
+
+Before Amelius could make his excuses for having completely forgotten
+his engagement, Rufus discovered Sally. No woman, young or old, high in
+rank or low in rank, ever found the New Englander unprepared with his
+own characteristic acknowledgment of the debt of courtesy which he owed
+to the sex. With his customary vast strides, he marched up to Sally and
+insisted on shaking hands with her. “How do you find yourself, miss? I
+take pleasure in making your acquaintance.” The girl turned to Amelius
+with wide-eyed wonder and doubt. “Go into the next room, Sally, for a
+minute or two,” he said. “This gentleman is a friend of mine, and I have
+something to say to him.”
+
+“That’s an _active_ little girl,” said Rufus, looking after her as she
+ran to the friendly shelter of the bedroom. “Reminds me of one of our
+girls at Coolspring--she does. Well, now, and who may Sally be?”
+
+Amelius answered the question, as usual, without the slightest reserve.
+Rufus waited in impenetrable silence until he had completed his
+narrative--then took him gently by the arm, and led him to the window.
+With his hands in his pockets and his long legs planted wide apart
+on his big feet, the American carefully studied the face of his young
+friend under the strongest light that could fall on it.
+
+“No,” said Rufus, speaking quietly to himself, “the boy is not raving
+mad, so far as I can see. He has every appearance on him of meaning what
+he says. And this is what comes of the Community of Tadmor, is it? Well,
+civil and religious liberty is dearly purchased sometimes in the United
+States--and that’s a fact.”
+
+Amelius turned away to pack his portmanteau. “I don’t understand you,”
+ he said.
+
+“I don’t suppose you do,” Rufus remarked. “I am at a similar loss myself
+to understand _you._ My store of sensible remarks is copious on most
+occasions--but I’m darned if I ain’t dried up in the face of this! Might
+I venture to ask what that venerable Chief Christian at Tadmor would say
+to the predicament in which I find my young Socialist this morning?”
+
+“What would he say?” Amelius repeated. “Just what he said when Mellicent
+first came among us. ‘Ah, dear me! Another of the Fallen Leaves!’ I wish
+I had the dear old man here to help me. _He_ would know how to restore
+that poor starved, outraged, beaten creature to the happy place on God’s
+earth which God intended her to fill!”
+
+Rufus abruptly took him by the hand. “You mean that?” he said.
+
+“What else could I mean?” Amelius rejoined sharply.
+
+“Bring her right away to breakfast at the hotel!” cried Rufus, with
+every appearance of feeling infinitely relieved. “I don’t say I can
+supply you with the venerable Chief Christian--but I can find a woman
+to fix you, who is as nigh to being an angel, barring the wings, as any
+she-creature since the time of mother Eve.” He knocked at the bedroom
+door, turning a deaf ear to every appeal for further information which
+Amelius could address to him. “Breakfast is waiting, miss!” he called
+out; “and I’m bound to tell you that the temper of the cook at our hotel
+is a long way on the wrong side of uncertain. Well, Amelius, this is
+the age of exhibition. If there’s ever an exhibition of ignorance in
+the business of packing a portmanteau, you run for the Gold Medal--and a
+unanimous jury will vote it, I reckon, to a young man from Tadmor. Clear
+out, will you, and leave it to me.”
+
+He pulled off his coat, and conquered the difficulties of packing in
+a hurry, as if he had done nothing else all his life. The landlady
+herself, appearing with pitiless punctuality exactly at the expiration
+of the hour, “smoothed her horrid front” in the polite and placable
+presence of Rufus. He insisted on shaking hands with her; he took
+pleasure in making her acquaintance; she reminded him, he did assure
+her, of the lady of the captain-general of the Coolspring Branch of the
+St. Vitus Commandery; and he would take the liberty to inquire whether
+they were related or not. Under cover of this fashionable conversation,
+Simple Sally was taken out of the room by Amelius without attracting
+notice. She insisted on carrying her threadbare old clothes away with
+her in the box which had contained the new dress. “I want to look at
+them sometimes,” she said, “and think how much better off I am now.”
+ Rufus was the last to take his departure; he persisted in talking to the
+landlady all the way down the stairs and out to the street door.
+
+While Amelius was waiting for his friend on the house-steps, a young
+man driving by in a cab leaned out and looked at him. The young man was
+Jervy, on his way from Mr. Ronald’s tombstone to Doctors’ Commons.
+
+
+CHAPTER 3
+
+With a rapid succession of events the morning had begun. With a rapid
+succession of events the day went on.
+
+The breakfast being over, rooms at the hotel were engaged by Rufus for
+his “two young friends.” After this, the next thing to be done was to
+provide Simple Sally with certain necessary, but invisible, articles of
+clothing, which Amelius had never thought of. A note to the nearest shop
+produced the speedy arrival of a smart lady, accompanied by a boy and
+a large basket. There was some difficulty in persuading Sally to trust
+herself alone in her room with the stranger. She was afraid, poor soul,
+of everybody but Amelius. Even the good American failed to win her
+confidence. The distrust implanted in her feeble mind by the terrible
+life that she had led, was the instinctive distrust of a wild animal.
+“Why must I go among other people?” she whispered piteously to Amelius.
+“I only want to be with You!” It was as completely useless to
+reason with her as it would have been to explain the advantages of
+a comfortable cage to a newly caught bird. There was but one way of
+inducing her to submit to the most gently exerted interference. Amelius
+had only to say, “Do it, Sally, to please me.” And Sally sighed, and did
+it.
+
+In her absence Amelius reiterated his inquiries, in relation to
+that unknown friend whom Rufus had not scrupled to describe as “an
+angel--barring the wings.”
+
+The lady in question, the American briefly explained, was an
+Englishwoman--the wife of one of his countrymen, established in London
+as a merchant. He had known them both intimately before their departure
+from the United States; and the old friendship had been cordially
+renewed on his arrival in England. Associated with many other charitable
+institutions, Mrs. Payson was one of the managing committee of a “Home
+for Friendless Women,” especially adapted to receive poor girls in
+Sally’s melancholy position. Rufus offered to write a note to Mrs.
+Payson; inquiring at what hour she could receive his friend and himself,
+and obtain permission for them to see the “Home.” Amelius, after some
+hesitation, accepted the proposal. The messenger had not been long
+despatched with the note before the smart person from the shop made her
+appearance once more, reporting that “the young lady’s outfit had been
+perfectly arranged,” and presenting the inevitable result in the shape
+of a bill. The last farthing of ready money in the possession of Amelius
+proved to be insufficient to discharge the debt. He accepted a loan from
+Rufus, until he could give his bankers the necessary order to sell
+out some of his money invested in the Funds. His answer, when Rufus
+protested against this course, was characteristic of the teaching which
+he owed to the Community. “My dear fellow, I am bound to return the
+money you have lent to me--in the interests of our poor brethren. The
+next friend who borrows of you may not have the means of paying you
+back.”
+
+After waiting for the return of Simple Sally, and waiting in vain,
+Amelius sent a chambermaid to her room, with a message to her. Rufus
+disapproved of this hasty proceeding. “Why disturb the girl at her
+looking-glass?” asked the old bachelor, with his quaintly humorous
+smile.
+
+Sally came in with no bright pleasure in her eyes this time; the girl
+looked worn and haggard. She drew Amelius away into a corner, and
+whispered to him. “I get a pain sometimes where the bruise is,” she
+said; “and I’ve got it bad, now.” She glanced, with an odd furtive
+jealousy, at Rufus. “I kept away from you,” she explained, “because I
+didn’t want _him_ to know.” She stopped, and put her hand on her bosom,
+and clenched her teeth fast. “Never mind,” she said cheerfully, as the
+pang passed away again; “I can bear it.”
+
+Amelius, acting on impulse, as usual, instantly ordered the most
+comfortable carriage that the hotel possessed. He had heard terrible
+stories of the possible result of an injury to a woman’s bosom. “I shall
+take her to the best doctor in London,” he announced. Sally whispered
+to him again--still with her eye on Rufus. “Is _he_ going with us?”
+ she asked. “No,” said Amelius; “one of us must stay here to receive a
+message.” Rufus looked after them very gravely, as the two left the room
+together.
+
+Applying for information to the mistress of the hotel, Amelius obtained
+the address of a consulting surgeon of great celebrity, while Sally was
+getting ready to go out.
+
+“Why don’t you like my good friend upstairs?” he said to the girl as
+they drove away from the house. The answer came swift and straight from
+the heart of the daughter of Eve. “Because _you_ like him!” Amelius
+changed the subject: he asked if she was still in pain. She shook her
+head impatiently. Pain or no pain, the uppermost idea in her mind was
+still that idea of being his servant, which had already found expression
+in words before they left the lodgings. “Will you let me keep my
+beautiful new dress for going out on Sundays?” she asked. “The shabby
+old things will do when I am your servant. I can black your boots, and
+brush your clothes, and keep your room tidy--and I will try hard to
+learn, if you will have me taught to cook.” Amelius attempted to change
+the subject again. He might as well have talked to her in an unknown
+tongue. The glorious prospect of being his servant absorbed the whole of
+her attention. “I’m little and I’m stupid,” she went on; “but I do think
+I could learn to cook, if I knew I was doing it for _You.”_ She paused,
+and looked at him anxiously. “Do let me try!” she pleaded; “I haven’t
+had much pleasure in my life--and I should like it so!” It was
+impossible to resist this. “You shall be as happy as I can make you,
+Sally,” Amelius answered; “God knows it isn’t much you ask for!”
+
+Something in those compassionate words set her thinking in another
+direction. It was sad to see how slowly and painfully she realized the
+idea that had been suggested to her.
+
+“I wonder whether you _can_ make me happy?” she said. “I suppose I have
+been happy before this--but I don’t know when. I don’t remember a time
+when I was not hungry or cold. Wait a bit. I do think I _was_ happy
+once. It was a long while ago, and it took me a weary time to do it--but
+I did learn at last to play a tune on the fiddle. The old man and his
+wife took it in turns to teach me. Somebody gave me to the old man and
+his wife; I don’t know who it was, and I don’t remember their names.
+They were musicians. In the fine streets they sang hymns, and in the
+poor streets they sang comic songs. It was cold, to be sure, standing
+barefoot on the pavement--but I got plenty of halfpence. The people said
+I was so little it was a shame to send me out, and so I got halfpence.
+I had bread and apples for supper, and a nice little corner under the
+staircase, to sleep in. Do you know, I do think I did enjoy myself at
+that time,” she concluded, still a little doubtful whether those faint
+and far-off remembrances were really to be relied on.
+
+Amelius tried to lead her to other recollections. He asked her how old
+she was when she played the fiddle.
+
+“I don’t know,” she answered; “I don’t know how old I am now. I don’t
+remember anything before the fiddle. I can’t call to mind how long it
+was first--but there came a time when the old man and his wife got into
+trouble. They went to prison, and I never saw them afterwards. I ran
+away with the fiddle; to get the halfpence, you know, all to myself. I
+think I should have got a deal of money, if it hadn’t been for the boys.
+They’re so cruel, the boys are. They broke my fiddle. I tried selling
+pencils after that; but people didn’t seem to want pencils. They
+found me out begging. I got took up, and brought before the
+what-do-you-call-him--the gentleman who sits in a high place, you know,
+behind a desk. Oh, but I was frightened, when they took me before the
+gentleman! He looked very much puzzled. He says, ‘Bring her up here;
+she’s so small I can hardly see her.’ He says, ‘Good God! what am I to
+do with this unfortunate child?’ There was plenty of people about. One
+of them says, ‘The workhouse ought to take her.’ And a lady came in, and
+she says, ‘I’ll take her, sir, if you’ll let me.’ And he knew her, and
+he let her. She took me to a place they called a Refuge--for wandering
+children, you know. It was very strict at the Refuge. They did give
+us plenty to eat, to be sure, and they taught us lessons. They told us
+about Our Father up in Heaven. I said a wrong thing--I said, ‘I don’t
+want him up in Heaven; I want him down here.’ They were very much
+ashamed of me when I said that. I was a bad girl; I turned ungrateful.
+After a time, I ran away. You see, it was so strict, and I was so used
+to the streets. I met with a Scotchman in the streets. He wore a kilt,
+and played the pipes; he taught me to dance, and dressed me up like a
+Scotch girl. He had a curious wife, a sort of half-black woman. She used
+to dance too--on a bit of carpet, you know, so as not to spoil her fine
+shoes. They taught me songs; he taught me a Scotch song. And one day
+his wife said _she_ was English (I don’t know how that was, being
+a half-black woman), and I should learn an English song. And they
+quarrelled about it. And she had her way. She taught me ‘Sally in our
+Alley’. That’s how I come to be called Sally. I hadn’t any name of my
+own--I always had nicknames. Sally was the last of them, and Sally has
+stuck to me. I hope it isn’t too common a name to please you? Oh, what a
+fine house! Are we really going in? Will they let _me_ in? How stupid
+I am! I forgot my beautiful clothes. You won’t tell them, will you, if
+they take me for a lady?”
+
+The carriage had stopped at the great surgeon’s house: the waiting-room
+was full of patients. Some of them were trying to read the books and
+newspapers on the table; and some of them were looking at each other,
+not only without the slightest sympathy, but occasionally even with
+downright distrust and dislike. Amelius took up a newspaper, and gave
+Sally an illustrated book to amuse her, while they waited to see the
+Surgeon in their turn.
+
+Two long hours passed, before the servant summoned Amelius to the
+consulting-room. Sally was wearily asleep in her chair. He left her
+undisturbed, having questions to put relating to the imperfectly
+developed state of her mind, which could not be asked in her presence.
+The surgeon listened, with no ordinary interest, to the young stranger’s
+simple and straightforward narrative of what had happened on the
+previous night. “You are very unlike other young men,” he said; “may I
+ask how you have been brought up?” The reply surprised him. “This opens
+quite a new view of Socialism,” he said. “I thought your conduct highly
+imprudent at first--it seems to be the natural result of your teaching
+now. Let me see what I can do to help you.”
+
+He was very grave and very gentle, when Sally was presented to him.
+His opinion of the injury to her bosom relieved the anxiety of Amelius:
+there might be pain for some little time to come, but there were no
+serious consequences to fear. Having written his prescription, and
+having put several questions to Sally, the surgeon sent her back, with
+marked kindness of manner, to wait for Amelius in the patients’ room.
+
+“I have young daughters of my own,” he said, when the door was closed;
+“and I cannot but feel for that unhappy creature, when I contrast her
+life with theirs. So far as I can see it, the natural growth of her
+senses--her higher and her lower senses alike--has been stunted, like
+the natural growth of her body, by starvation, terror, exposure to
+cold, and other influences inherent in the life that she has led. With
+nourishing food, pure air, and above all kind and careful treatment,
+I see no reason, at her age, why she should not develop into an
+intelligent and healthy young woman. Pardon me if I venture on giving
+you a word of advice. At your time of life, you will do well to place
+her at once under competent and proper care. You may live to regret
+it, if you are too confident in your own good motives in such a case
+as this. Come to me again, if I can be of any use to you. No,” he
+continued, refusing to take his fee; “my help to that poor lost girl is
+help given freely.” He shook hands with Amelius--a worthy member of the
+noble order to which he belonged.
+
+The surgeon’s parting advice, following on the quaint protest of Rufus,
+had its effect on Amelius. He was silent and thoughtful when he got into
+the carriage again.
+
+Simple Sally looked at him with a vague sense of alarm. Her heart beat
+fast, under the perpetually recurring fear that she had done something
+or said something to offend him. “Was it bad behaviour in me,” she
+asked, “to fall asleep in the chair?” Reassured, so far, she was still
+as anxious as ever to get at the truth. After long hesitation, and long
+previous thought, she ventured to try another question. “The gentleman
+sent me out of the room--did he say anything to set you against me?”
+
+“The gentleman said everything that was kind of you,” Amelius replied,
+“and everything to make me hope that you will live to be a happy girl.”
+
+She said nothing to that; vague assurances were no assurances to
+her--she only looked at him with the dumb fidelity of a dog. Suddenly,
+she dropped on her knees in the carriage, hid her face in her hands, and
+cried silently. Surprised and distressed, he attempted to raise her and
+console her. “No!” she said obstinately. “Something has happened to vex
+you, and you won’t tell me what it is. Do, do, do tell me what it is!”
+
+“My dear child,” said Amelius, “I was only thinking anxiously about you,
+in the time to come.”
+
+She looked up at him quickly. “What! have you forgotten already?” she
+exclaimed. “I’m to be your servant in the time to come.” She dried her
+eyes, and took her place again joyously by his side. “You did frighten
+me,” she said, “and all for nothing. But you didn’t mean it, did you?”
+
+An older man might have had the courage to undeceive her: Amelius shrank
+from it. He tried to lead her back to the melancholy story--so common
+and so terrible; so pitiable in its utter absence of sentiment or
+romance--the story of her past life.
+
+“No,” she answered, with that quick insight where her feelings were
+concerned, which was the only quick insight that she possessed. “I don’t
+like making you sorry; and you did look sorry--you did--when I talked
+about it before. The streets, the streets, the streets; little girl, or
+big girl, it’s only the streets; and always being hungry or cold; and
+cruel men when it isn’t cruel boys. I want to be happy! I want to enjoy
+my new clothes! You tell me about your own self. What makes you so kind?
+I can’t make it out; try as I may, I can’t make it out.”
+
+Some time elapsed before they got back to the hotel. Amelius drove as
+far as the City, to give the necessary instructions to his bankers.
+
+On returning to the sitting-room at last, he discovered that his
+American friend was not alone. A gray-haired lady with a bright
+benevolent face was talking earnestly to Rufus. The instant Sally
+discovered the stranger, she started back, fled to the shelter of her
+bedchamber, and locked herself in. Amelius, entering the room after a
+little hesitation, was presented to Mrs. Payson.
+
+“There was something in my old friend’s note,” said the lady, smiling
+and turning to Rufus, “which suggested to me that I should do well to
+answer it personally. I am not too old yet to follow the impulse of the
+moment, sometimes; and I am very glad that I did so. I have heard what
+is, to me, a very interesting story. Mr. Goldenheart, I respect you! And
+I will prove it by helping you, with all my heart and soul, to save that
+poor little girl who has just run away from me. Pray don’t make excuses
+for her; I should have run away too, at her age. We have arranged,” she
+continued, looking again at Rufus, “that I shall take you both to the
+Home, this afternoon. If we can prevail on Sally to go with us, one
+serious obstacle in our way will be overcome. Tell me the number of her
+room. I want to try if I can’t make friends with her. I have had some
+experience; and I don’t despair of bringing her back here, hand in hand
+with the terrible person who has frightened her.”
+
+The two men were left together. Amelius attempted to speak.
+
+“Keep it down,” said Rufus; “no premature outbreak of opinion, if you
+please, yet awhile. Wait till she has fixed Sally, and shown us the
+Paradise of the poor girls. It’s within the London postal district, and
+that’s all I know about it. Well, now, and did you go to the doctor?
+Thunder! what’s come to the boy? Seems as though he had left his
+complexion in the carriage! He looks, I do declare, as if he wanted
+medical tinkering himself.”
+
+Amelius explained that his past night had been a wakeful one, and that
+the events of the day had not allowed him any opportunities of repose.
+“Since the morning,” he said, “things have hurried so, one on the top
+of the other, that I am beginning to feel a little dazed and weary.”
+ Without a word of remark, Rufus produced the remedy. The materials were
+ready on the sideboard--he made a cocktail.
+
+“Another?” asked the New Englander, after a reasonable lapse of time.
+
+Amelius declined taking another. He stretched himself on the sofa; his
+good friend considerately took up a newspaper. For the first time that
+day, he had now the prospect of a quiet interval for rest and thought.
+In less than a minute the delusive prospect vanished. He started to his
+feet again, disturbed by a new anxiety. Having leisure to think, he had
+thought of Regina. “Good heavens!” he exclaimed; “she’s waiting to see
+me--and I never remembered it till this moment!” He looked at his watch:
+it was five o’clock. “What am I to do?” he said helplessly.
+
+Rufus laid down the newspaper, and considered the new difficulty in its
+various aspects.
+
+“We are bound to go with Mrs. Payson to the Home,” he said; “and, I
+tell you this, Amelius, the matter of Sally is not a matter to be played
+with; it’s a thing that’s got to be done. In your place I should write
+politely to Miss Regina, and put it off till to-morrow.”
+
+In ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, a man who took Rufus for his
+counsellor was a man who acted wisely in every sense of the word.
+Events, however, of which Amelius and his friend were both ignorant
+alike, had so ordered it, that the American’s well-meant advice, in this
+one exceptional case, was the very worst advice that could have been
+given. In an hour more, Jervy and Mrs. Sowler were to meet at the tavern
+door. The one last hope of protecting Mrs. Farnaby from the abominable
+conspiracy of which she was the destined victim, rested solely on the
+fulfilment by Amelius of his engagement with Regina for that day. Always
+ready to interfere with the progress of the courtship, Mrs. Farnaby
+would be especially eager to seize the first opportunity of speaking to
+her young Socialist friend on the subject of his lecture. In the course
+of the talk between them, the idea which, in the present disturbed state
+of his mind, had not struck him yet--the idea that the outcast of the
+streets might, by the barest conceivable possibility, be identified with
+the lost daughter--would, in one way or another, be almost infallibly
+suggested to Amelius; and, at the eleventh hour, the conspiracy would be
+foiled. If, on the other hand, the American’s fatal advice was followed,
+the next morning’s post might bring a letter from Jervy to Mrs.
+Farnaby--with this disastrous result. At the first words spoken by
+Amelius, she would put an end to all further interest in the subject on
+his part, by telling him that the lost girl had been found, and found by
+another person.
+
+Rufus pointed to the writing-materials on a side table, which he had
+himself used earlier in the day. The needful excuse was, unhappily,
+quite easy to find. A misunderstanding with his landlady had obliged
+Amelius to leave his lodgings at an hour’s notice, and had occupied him
+in trying to find a new residence for the rest of the day. The note was
+written. Rufus, who was nearest to the bell, stretched out his hand to
+ring for the messenger. Amelius suddenly stopped him.
+
+“She doesn’t like me to disappoint her,” he said. “I needn’t stay
+long--I might get there and back in half an hour, in a fast cab.”
+
+His conscience was not quite easy. The sense of having forgotten
+Regina--no matter how naturally and excusably--oppressed him with a
+feeling of self-reproach. Rufus raised no objection; the hesitation of
+Amelius was unquestionably creditable to him. “If you must do it, my
+son,” he said, “do it right away--and we’ll wait for you.”
+
+Amelius took up his hat. The door opened as he approached it, and Mrs.
+Payson entered the room, leading Simple Sally by the hand.
+
+“We are all going together,” said the genial old lady, “to see my large
+family of daughters at the Home. We can have our talk in the carriage.
+It’s an hour’s drive from this place--and I must be back again to dinner
+at half-past seven.”
+
+Amelius and Rufus looked at each other. Amelius thought of pleading an
+engagement, and asking to be excused. Under the circumstances, it was
+assuredly not a very gracious thing to do. Before he could make up his
+mind, one way or the other, Sally stole to his side, and put her hand
+on his arm. Mrs. Payson had done wonders in conquering the girl’s
+inveterate distrust of strangers, and, to a certain extent at least,
+winning her confidence. But no early influence could shake Sally’s
+dog-like devotion to Amelius. Her jealous instinct discovered something
+suspicious in his sudden silence. “You must go with us,” she said, “I
+won’t go without you.”
+
+“Certainly not,” Mrs. Payson added; “I promised her that, of course,
+beforehand.”
+
+Rufus rang the bell, and despatched the messenger to Regina. “That’s the
+one way out of it, my son,” he whispered to Amelius, as they followed
+Mrs. Payson and Sally down the stairs of the hotel.
+
+
+They had just driven up to the gates of the Home, when Jervy and his
+accomplice met at the tavern, and entered on their consultation in a
+private room.
+
+In spite of her poverty-stricken appearance, Mrs. Sowler was not
+absolutely destitute. In various underhand and wicked ways, she
+contrived to put a few shillings in her pocket from week to week. If she
+was half starved, it was for the very ordinary reason, among persons
+of her vicious class, that she preferred spending her money on drink.
+Stating his business with her, as reservedly and as cunningly as usual,
+Jervy found, to his astonishment, that even this squalid old creature
+presumed to bargain with him. The two wretches were on the point of a
+quarrel which might have delayed the execution of the plot against Mrs.
+Farnaby, but for the vile self-control which made Jervy one of the most
+formidable criminals living. He gave way on the question of money--and,
+from that moment, he had Mrs. Sowler absolutely at his disposal.
+
+“Meet me to-morrow morning, to receive your instructions,” he said. “The
+time is ten sharp; and the place is the powder-magazine in Hyde Park.
+And mind this! You must be decently dressed--you know where to hire
+the things. If I smell you of spirits to-morrow morning, I shall employ
+somebody else. No; not a farthing now. You will have your money--first
+instalment only, mind!--to-morrow at ten.”
+
+Left by himself, Jervy sent for pen, ink, and paper. Using his left
+hand, which was just as serviceable to him as his right, he traced these
+lines:--
+
+“You are informed, by an unknown friend, that a certain lost young lady
+is now living in a foreign country, and may be restored to her afflicted
+mother on receipt of a sufficient sum to pay expenses, and to reward the
+writer of this letter, who is undeservedly, in distressed circumstances.
+
+“Are you, madam, the mother? I ask the question in the strictest
+confidence, knowing nothing certainly but that your husband was the
+person who put the young lady out to nurse in her infancy.
+
+“I don’t address your husband, because his inhuman desertion of the
+poor baby does not incline me to trust him. I run the risk of trusting
+you--to a certain extent--at starting. Shall I drop a hint which
+may help you to identify the child, in your own mind? It would be
+inexcusably foolish on my part to speak too plainly, just yet. The hint
+must be a vague one. Suppose I use a poetical expression, and say that
+the young lady is enveloped in mystery from head to foot--especially the
+foot?
+
+“In the event of my addressing the right person, I beg to offer a
+suggestion for a preliminary interview.
+
+“If you will take a walk on the bridge over the Serpentine River, on
+Kensington Gardens side, at half-past ten o’clock to-morrow morning,
+holding a white handkerchief in your left hand, you will meet the
+much-injured woman, who was deceived into taking charge of the infant
+child at Ramsgate, and will be satisfied so far that you are giving your
+confidence to persons who really deserve it.”
+
+Jervy addressed this infamous letter to Mrs. Farnaby, in an ordinary
+envelope, marked “Private.” He posted it, that night, with his own hand.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 4
+
+“Rufus! I don’t quite like the way you look at me. You seem to think--”
+
+“Give it tongue, my son. What do I seem to think?”
+
+“You think I’m forgetting Regina. You don’t believe I’m just as fond of
+her as ever. The fact is, you’re an old bachelor.”
+
+“That is so. Where’s the harm, Amelius?”
+
+“I don’t understand--”
+
+“You’re out there, my bright boy. I reckon I understand more than you
+think for. The wisest thing you ever did in your life is what you did
+this evening, when you committed Sally to the care of those ladies at
+the Home.”
+
+“Good night, Rufus. We shall quarrel if I stay here any longer.”
+
+“Good night, Amelius. We shan’t quarrel, stay here as long as you like.”
+
+The good deed had been done; the sacrifice--already a painful
+sacrifice--had been made. Mrs. Payson was old enough to speak plainly,
+as well as seriously, to Amelius of the absolute necessity of separating
+himself from Simple Sally, without any needless delay. “You have seen
+for yourself,” she said, “that the plan on which this little household
+is ruled is the unvarying plan of patience and kindness. So far as Sally
+is concerned, you can be quite sure that she will never hear a harsh
+word, never meet with a hard look, while she is under our care. The
+lamentable neglect under which the poor creature has suffered, will be
+tenderly remembered and atoned for, here. If we can’t make her happy
+among us, I promise that she shall leave the Home, if she wishes it, in
+six weeks’ time. As to yourself, consider your position if you persist
+in taking her back with you. Our good friend Rufus has told me that you
+are engaged to be married. Think of the misinterpretations, to say the
+least of it, to which you would subject yourself--think of the reports
+which would sooner or later find their way to the young lady’s ears, and
+of the deplorable consequences that would follow. I believe implicitly
+in the purity of your motives. But remember Who taught us to pray that
+we may not be led into temptation--and complete the good work that you
+have begun, by leaving Sally among friends and sisters in this house.”
+
+To any honourable man, these were unanswerable words. Coming after what
+Rufus and the surgeon had already said to him, they left Amelius no
+alternative but to yield. He pleaded for leave to write to Sally, and
+to see her, at a later interval, when she might be reconciled to her new
+life. Mrs. Payson had just consented to both requests, Rufus had just
+heartily congratulated him on his decision--when the door was thrown
+violently open. Simple Sally ran into the room, followed by one of the
+women-attendants in a state of breathless surprise.
+
+“She showed me a bedroom,” cried Sally, pointing indignantly to the
+woman; “and she asked if I should like to sleep there.” She turned to
+Amelius, and caught him by the hand to lead him away. The ineradicable
+instinct of distrust had been once more roused in her by the too zealous
+attendant. “I’m not going to stay here,” she said; “I’m going away with
+You!”
+
+Amelius glanced at Mrs. Payson. Sally tried to drag him to the door.
+He did his best to reassure her by a smile; he spoke confusedly some
+composing words. But his honest face, always accustomed to tell
+the truth, told the truth now. The poor lost creature, whose feeble
+intelligence was so slow to discern, so inapt to reflect, looked at him
+with the heart’s instantaneous perception, and saw her doom. She let
+go of his hand. Her head sank. Without word or cry, she dropped on the
+floor at his feet.
+
+The attendant instantly raised her, and placed her on a sofa. Mrs.
+Payson saw how resolutely Amelius struggled to control himself, and
+felt for him with all her heart. Turning aside for a moment, she hastily
+wrote a few lines, and returned to him. “Go, before we revive her,”
+ she whispered; “and give what I have written to the coachman. You shall
+suffer no anxiety that I can spare you,” said the excellent woman; “I
+will stay here myself to-night, and reconcile her to the new life.”
+
+She held out her hand; Amelius kissed it in silence. Rufus led him out.
+Not a word dropped from his lips on the long drive back to London.
+
+His mind was disturbed by other subjects besides the subject of Sally.
+He thought of his future, darkened by the doubtful marriage-engagement
+that was before him. Alone with Rufus, for the rest of the evening, he
+petulantly misunderstood the sympathy with which the kindly American
+regarded him. Their bedrooms were next to each other. Rufus heard him
+walking restlessly to and fro, and now and then talking to himself.
+After a while, these sounds ceased. He was evidently worn out, and was
+getting the rest that he needed, at last.
+
+The next morning he received a few lines from Mrs. Payson, giving a
+favourable account of Sally, and promising further particulars in a day
+or two.
+
+Encouraged by this good news, revived by a long night’s sleep, he went
+towards noon to pay his postponed visit to Regina. At that early hour,
+he could feel sure that his interview with her would not be interrupted
+by visitors. She received him quietly and seriously, pressing his hand
+with a warmer fondness than usual. He had anticipated some complaint
+of his absence on the previous day, and some severe allusion to his
+appearance in the capacity of a Socialist lecturer. Regina’s indulgence,
+or Regina’s interest in circumstances of more pressing importance,
+preserved a merciful silence on both subjects.
+
+“It is a comfort to me to see you, Amelius,” she said; “I am in trouble
+about my uncle, and I am weary of my own anxious thoughts. Something
+unpleasant has happened in Mr. Farnaby’s business. He goes to the City
+earlier, and he returns much later, than usual. When he does come back,
+he doesn’t speak to me--he locks himself into his room; and he looks
+worn and haggard when I make his breakfast for him in the morning.
+You know that he is one of the directors of the new bank? There was
+something about the bank in the newspaper yesterday which upset him
+dreadfully; he put down his cup of coffee--and went away to the City,
+without eating his breakfast. I don’t like to worry you about it,
+Amelius. But my aunt seems to take no interest in her husband’s
+affairs--and it is really a relief to me to talk of my troubles to you.
+I have kept the newspaper; do look at what it says about the bank, and
+tell me if you understand it!”
+
+Amelius read the passage pointed out to him. He knew as little of
+banking business as Regina. “So far as I can make it out,” he said,
+“they’re paying away money to their shareholders which they haven’t
+earned. How do they do that, I wonder?”
+
+Regina changed the subject in despair. She asked Amelius if he had found
+new lodgings. Hearing that he had not yet succeeded in the search for a
+residence, she opened a drawer of her work-table, and took out a card.
+
+“The brother of one of my schoolfellows is going to be married,” she
+said. “He has a pretty bachelor cottage in the neighbourhood of the
+Regent’s Park--and he wants to sell it, with the furniture, just as it
+is. I don’t know whether you care to encumber yourself with a little
+house of your own. His sister has asked me to distribute some of his
+cards, with the address and the particulars. It might be worth your
+while, perhaps, to look at the cottage when you pass that way.”
+
+Amelius took the card. The small feminine restraints and gentlenesses
+of Regina, her quiet even voice, her serene grace of movement, had a
+pleasantly soothing effect on his mind after the anxieties of the last
+four and twenty hours. He looked at her bending over her embroidery,
+deftly and gracefully industrious--and drew his chair closer to her.
+She smiled softly over her work, conscious that he was admiring her, and
+placidly pleased to receive the tribute.
+
+“I would buy the cottage at once,” said Amelius, “if I thought you would
+come and live in it with me.”
+
+She looked up gravely, with her needle suspended in her hand.
+
+“Don’t let us return to that,” she answered, and went on again with her
+embroidery.
+
+“Why not?” Amelius asked.
+
+She persisted in working, as industriously as if she had been a poor
+needlewoman, with serious reasons for being eager to get her money. “It
+is useless,” she replied, “to speak of what cannot be for some time to
+come.”
+
+Amelius stopped the progress of the embroidery by taking her hand. Her
+devotion to her work irritated him.
+
+“Look at me, Regina,” he said, steadily controlling himself. “I want
+to propose that we shall give way a little on both sides. I won’t hurry
+you; I will wait a reasonable time. If I promise that, surely you
+may yield a little in return. Money seems to be a hard taskmaster,
+my darling, after what you have told me about your uncle. See how he
+suffers because he is bent on being rich; and ask yourself if it isn’t a
+warning to us not to follow his example! Would you like to see _me_ too
+wretched to speak to you, or to eat my breakfast--and all for the sake
+of a little outward show? Come, come! let us think of ourselves. Why
+should we waste the best days of our life apart, when we are both free
+to be happy together? I have another good friend besides Rufus--the good
+friend of my father before me. He knows all sorts of great people, and
+he will help me to some employment. In six months’ time I might have a
+little salary to add to my income. Say the sweetest words, my darling,
+that ever fell from your lips--say you will marry me in six months!”
+
+It was not in a woman’s nature to be insensible to such pleading
+as this. She all but yielded. “I should like to say it, dear!” she
+answered, with a little fluttering sigh.
+
+“Say it, then!” Amelius suggested tenderly.
+
+She took refuge again in her embroidery. “If you would only give me a
+little time,” she suggested, “I might say it.”
+
+“Time for what, my own love?”
+
+“Time to wait, dear, till my uncle is not quite so anxious as he is
+now.”
+
+“Don’t talk of your uncle, Regina! You know as well as I do what he
+would say. Good heavens! why can’t you decide for yourself? No! I don’t
+want to hear over again about what you owe to Mr. Farnaby--I heard
+enough of it on that day in the shrubbery. Oh, my dear girl, do have
+some feeling for me! do for once have a will of your own!”
+
+Those last words were an offence to her self-esteem. “I think it’s very
+rude to tell me I have no will of my own,” she said, “and very hard
+to press in this way when you know I am in trouble.” The inevitable
+handkerchief appeared, adding emphasis to the protest--and the becoming
+tears showed themselves modestly in Regina’s magnificent eyes.
+
+Amelius started out of his chair, and walked away to the window. That
+last reference to Mr. Farnaby’s pecuniary cares was more than he had
+patience to endure. “She can’t even forget her uncle and his bank,” he
+thought, “when I am speaking to her of our marriage!”
+
+He kept his face hidden from her, at the window. By some subtle process
+of association which he was unable to trace, the image of Simple Sally
+rose in his mind. An irresistible influence forced him to think of
+her--not as the poor, starved, degraded, half-witted creature of the
+streets, but as the grateful girl who had asked for no happier future
+than to be his servant, who had dropped senseless at his feet at the
+bare prospect of parting with him. His sense of self-respect, his
+loyalty to his betrothed wife, resolutely resisted the unworthy
+conclusion to which his own thoughts were leading him. He turned back
+again to Regina; he spoke so loudly and so vehemently that the gathering
+flow of her tears was suspended in surprise. “You’re right, you’re quite
+right, my dear! I ought to give you time, of course. I try to control
+my hasty temper, but I don’t always succeed--just at first. Pray forgive
+me; it shall be exactly as you wish.”
+
+Regina forgave him, with a gentle and ladylike astonishment at the
+excitable manner in which he made his excuses. She even neglected her
+embroidery, and put her face up to him to be kissed. “You are so nice,
+dear,” she said, “when you are not violent and unreasonable. It is such
+a pity you were brought up in America. Won’t you stay to lunch?”
+
+Happily for Amelius, the footman appeared at this critical moment with
+a message: “My mistress wishes particularly to see you, sir, before you
+go.”
+
+This was the first occasion, in the experience of the lovers, on which
+Mrs. Farnaby had expressed her wishes through the medium of a servant,
+instead of appearing personally. The curiosity of Regina was mildly
+excited. “What a very odd message!” she said; “what does it mean? My
+aunt went out earlier than usual this morning, and I have not seen her
+since. I wonder whether she is going to consult you about my uncle’s
+affairs?”
+
+“I’ll go and see,” said Amelius.
+
+“And stay to lunch?” Regina reiterated.
+
+“Not to-day, my dear.”
+
+“To-morrow, then?”
+
+“Yes, to-morrow.” So he escaped. As he opened the door, he looked back,
+and kissed his hand. Regina raised her head for a moment, and smiled
+charmingly. She was hard at work again over her embroidery.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 5
+
+The door of Mrs. Farnaby’s ground-floor room, at the back of the house,
+was partially open. She was on the watch for Amelius.
+
+“Come in!” she cried, the moment he appeared in the hall. She pulled him
+into the room, and shut the door with a bang. Her face was flushed, her
+eyes were wild. “I have something to tell you, you dear good fellow,”
+ she burst out excitedly--“Something in confidence, between you and me!”
+ She paused, and looked at him with sudden anxiety and alarm. “What’s the
+matter with you?” she asked.
+
+The sight of the room, the reference to a secret, the prospect of
+another private conference, forced back the mind of Amelius, in one
+breathless instant, to his first memorable interview with Mrs. Farnaby.
+The mother’s piteously hopeful words, in speaking of her lost daughter,
+rang in his ears again as if they had just fallen from her lips. “She
+may be lost in the labyrinth of London.... To-morrow, or ten years
+hence, you _might_ meet with her.” There were a hundred chances
+against it--a thousand, ten thousand chances against it. The startling
+possibility flashed across his brain, nevertheless, like a sudden
+flow of daylight across the dark. _“Have_ I met with her, at the first
+chance?”
+
+“Wait,” he cried; “I have something to say before you speak to me. Don’t
+deceive yourself with vain hopes. Promise me that, before I begin.”
+
+She waved her hand derisively. “Hopes?” she repeated; “I have done with
+hopes, I have done with fears--I have got to certainties, at last!”
+
+He was too eager to heed anything that she said to him; his whole soul
+was absorbed in the coming disclosure. “Two nights since,” he went on,
+“I was wandering about London, and I met--”
+
+She burst out laughing. “Go on!” she cried, with a wild derisive gaiety.
+
+Amelius stopped, perplexed and startled. “What are you laughing at?” he
+asked.
+
+“Go on!” she repeated. “I defy you to surprise me. Out with it! Whom did
+you meet?”
+
+Amelius proceeded doubtfully, by a word at a time. “I met a poor girl in
+the streets,” he said, steadily watching her.
+
+She changed completely at those words; she looked at him with an aspect
+of stern reproach. “No more of it,” she interposed; “I have not waited
+all these miserable years for such a horrible end as that.” Her face
+suddenly brightened; a radiant effusion of tenderness and triumph flowed
+over it, and made it young and happy again. “Amelius!” she said, “listen
+to this. My dream has come true--my girl is found! Thanks to you, though
+you don’t know it.”
+
+Amelius looked at her. Was she speaking of something that had really
+happened? or had she been dreaming again?
+
+Absorbed in her own happiness, she made no remark on his silence. “I
+have seen the woman,” she went on. “This bright blessed morning I have
+seen the woman who took her away in the first days of her poor little
+life. The wretch swears she was not to blame. I tried to forgive her.
+Perhaps I almost did forgive her, in the joy of hearing what she had
+to tell me. I should never have heard it, Amelius, if you had not given
+that glorious lecture. The woman was one of your audience. She would
+never have spoken of those past days; she would never have thought of
+me--”
+
+At those words, Mrs. Farnaby abruptly stopped, and turned her face away
+from Amelius. After waiting a little, finding her still silent, still
+immovable, he ventured on putting a question.
+
+“Are you sure you are not deceived?” he asked. “I remember you told me
+that rogues had tried to impose on you, in past times when you employed
+people to find her.”
+
+“I have proof that I am not being imposed upon,” Mrs. Farnaby answered,
+still keeping her face hidden from him. “One of them knows of the fault
+in her foot.”
+
+“One of them?” Amelius repeated. “How many of them are there?”
+
+“Two. The old woman, and a young man.”
+
+“What are their names?”
+
+“They won’t tell me their names yet.”
+
+“Isn’t that a little suspicious?”
+
+“One of them knows,” Mrs. Farnaby reiterated, “of the fault in her
+foot.”
+
+“May I ask which of them knows? The old woman, I suppose?”
+
+“No, the young man.”
+
+“That’s strange, isn’t it? Have you seen the young man?”
+
+“I know nothing of him, except the little that the woman told me. He has
+written me a letter.”
+
+“May I look at it?”
+
+“I daren’t let you look at it!”
+
+Amelius said no more. If he had felt the smallest suspicion that the
+disclosure volunteered by Mrs. Farnaby, at their first interview, had
+been overheard by the unknown person who had opened the swinging window
+in the kitchen, he might have recalled Phoebe’s vindictive language at
+his lodgings, and the doubts suggested to him by his discovery of
+the vagabond waiting for her in the street. As it was, he was simply
+puzzled. The one plain conclusion to his mind was, unhappily, the
+natural conclusion after what he had heard--that Mrs. Farnaby had no
+sort of interest in the discovery of Simple Sally, and that he need
+trouble himself with no further anxiety in that matter. Strange as Mrs.
+Farnaby’s mysterious revelation seemed, her correspondent’s knowledge
+of the fault in the foot was circumstance in his favour, beyond dispute.
+Amelius still wondered inwardly how it was that the woman who had taken
+charge of the child had failed to discover what appeared to be known to
+another person. If he had been aware that Mrs. Sowler’s occupation at
+the time was the occupation of a “baby-farmer,” and that she had many
+other deserted children pining under her charge, he might have easily
+understood that she was the last person in the world to trouble herself
+with a minute examination of any one of the unfortunate little creatures
+abandoned to her drunken and merciless neglect. Jervy had satisfied
+himself, before he trusted her with his instructions, that she knew no
+more than the veriest stranger of any peculiarity in one or the other of
+the child’s feet.
+
+Interpreting Mrs. Farnaby’s last reply to him as an intimation that
+their interview was at an end, Amelius took up his hat to go.
+
+“I hope with all my heart,” he said, “that what has begun so well will
+end well. If there is any service that I can do for you--”
+
+She drew nearer to him, and put her hand gently on his shoulder. “Don’t
+think that I distrust you,” she said very earnestly; “I am unwilling to
+shock you--that is all. Even this great joy has a dark side to it; my
+miserable married life casts its shadow on everything that happens to
+me. Keep secret from everybody the little that I have told you--you will
+ruin me if you say one word of it to any living creature. I ought not to
+have opened my heart to you--but how could I help it, when the happiness
+that is coming to me has come through you? When you say good-bye to me
+to-day, Amelius, you say good-bye to me for the last time in this house.
+I am going away. Don’t ask me why--that is one more among the things
+which I daren’t tell you! You shall hear from me, or see me--I promise
+that. Give me some safe address to write to; some place where there are
+no inquisitive women who may open my letter in your absence.”
+
+She handed him her pocket-book. Amelius wrote down in it the address of
+his club.
+
+She took his hand. “Think of me kindly,” she said. “And, once more,
+don’t be afraid of my being deceived. There is a hard part of me still
+left which keeps me on my guard. The old woman tried, this morning, to
+make me talk to her about that little fault we know of in my child’s
+foot. But I thought to myself, ‘If you had taken a proper interest in my
+poor baby while she was with you, you must sooner or later have found it
+out.’ Not a word passed my lips. No, no, don’t be anxious when you think
+of me. I am as sharp as they are; I mean to find out how the man who
+wrote to me discovered what he knows; he shall satisfy me, I promise
+you, when I see him or hear from him next. All this is between ourselves
+strictly, sacredly between ourselves. Say nothing--I know I can trust
+you. Good-bye, and forgive me for having been so often in your way with
+Regina. I shall never be in your way again. Marry her, if you think
+she is good enough for you; I have no more interest now in your being
+a roving bachelor, meeting with girls here, there, and everywhere. You
+shall know how it goes on. Oh, I am so happy!”
+
+She burst into tears, and signed to Amelius with a wild gesture of
+treaty to leave her.
+
+He pressed her hand in silence, and went out.
+
+Almost as the door closed on him, the variable woman changed again. For
+a while she walked rapidly to and fro, talking to herself. The course of
+her tears ceased. Her lips closed firmly; her eyes assumed an expression
+of savage resolve. She sat down at the table and opened her desk. “I’ll
+read it once more,” she said to herself, “before I seal it up.”
+
+She took from her desk a letter of her own writing, and spread it out
+before her. With her elbows on the table, and her hands clasped fiercely
+in her hair, she read these lines addressed to her husband:--
+
+
+JOHN FARNABY,--I have always suspected that you had something to do
+with the disappearance of our child. I know for certain now that you
+deliberately cast your infant daughter on the mercy of the world, and
+condemned your wife to a life of wretchedness.
+
+“Don’t suppose that I have been deceived! I have spoken with the woman
+who waited by the garden-paling at Ramsgate, and who took the child from
+your hands. She saw you with me at the lecture; and she is absolutely
+sure that you are the man.
+
+“Thanks to the meeting at the lecture-hall, I am at last on the trace of
+my lost daughter. This morning I heard the woman’s story. She kept the
+child, on the chance of its being reclaimed, until she could afford to
+keep it no longer. She met with a person who was willing to adopt it,
+and who took it away with her to a foreign country, not mentioned to me
+yet. In that country my daughter is still living, and will be restored
+to me on conditions which will be communicated in a few days’ time.
+
+“Some of this story may be true, and some of it may be false; the woman
+may be lying to serve her own interests with me. Of one thing I am
+sure--my girl is identified, by means known to me of which there can
+be no doubt. And she must be still living, because the interest of the
+persons treating with me is an interest in her life.
+
+“When you receive this letter, on your return from business to-night,
+I shall have left you, and left you for ever. The bare thought of even
+looking at you again fills me with horror. I have my own income, and
+I mean to take my own way. In your best interests I warn you, make
+no attempt to trace me. I declare solemnly that, rather than let your
+deserted daughter be polluted by the sight of you, I would kill you with
+my own hand, and die for it on the scaffold. If she ever asks for her
+father, I will do you one service. For the honour of human nature, I
+will tell her that her father is dead. It will not be all a falsehood. I
+repudiate you and your name--you are dead to me from this time forth.
+
+“I sign myself by my father’s name--
+
+“EMMA RONALD.”
+
+
+She had said herself that she was unwilling to shock Amelius. This was
+the reason.
+
+After thinking a little, she sealed and directed the letter. This done,
+she unlocked the wooden press which had once contained the baby’s frock
+and cap, and those other memorials of the past which she called her
+“dead consolations.” After satisfying herself that the press was
+empty, she wrote on a card, “To be called for by a messenger from my
+bankers”--and tied the card to a tin box in a corner, secured by a
+padlock. She lifted the box, and placed it in front of the press, so
+that it might be easily visible to any one entering the room. The safe
+keeping of her treasures provided for, she took the sealed letter,
+and, ascending the stairs, placed it on the table in her husband’s
+dressing-room. She hurried out again, the instant after, as if the sight
+of the place were intolerable to her.
+
+Passing to the other end of the corridor, she entered her own
+bedchamber, and put on her bonnet and cloak. A leather handbag was on
+the bed. She took it up, and looked round the large luxurious room with
+a shudder of disgust. What she had suffered, within those four walls, no
+human creature knew but herself. She hurried out, as she had hurried out
+of her husband’s dressing-room.
+
+Her niece was still in the drawing-room. As she reached the door, she
+hesitated, and stopped. The girl was a good girl, in her own dull placid
+way--and her sister’s daughter, too. A last little act of kindness would
+perhaps be a welcome act to remember. She opened the door so suddenly
+that Regina started, with a small cry of alarm. “Oh, aunt, how you
+frighten one! Are you going out?” “Yes; I’m going out,” was the short
+answer. “Come here. Give me a kiss.” Regina looked up in wide-eyed
+astonishment. Mrs. Farnaby stamped impatiently on the floor. Regina
+rose, gracefully bewildered. “My dear aunt, how very odd!” she said--and
+gave the kiss demanded, with a serenely surprised elevation of her
+finely shaped eyebrows. “Yes,” said Mrs. Farnaby; “that’s it--one of my
+oddities. Go back to your work. Good-bye.”
+
+She left the room, as abruptly as she had entered it. With her firm
+heavy step she descended to the hall, passed out at the house door, and
+closed it behind her--never to return to it again.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 6
+
+Amelius left Mrs. Farnaby, troubled by emotions of confusion and alarm,
+which he was the last man living to endure patiently. Her extraordinary
+story of the discovered daughter, the still more startling assertion of
+her solution to leave the house, the absence of any plain explanation,
+the burden of secrecy imposed on him--all combined together to irritate
+his sensitive nerves. “I hate mysteries,” he thought; “and ever since I
+landed in England, I seem fated to be mixed up in them. Does she really
+mean to leave her husband and her niece? What will Farnaby do? What will
+become of Regina?”
+
+To think of Regina was to think of the new repulse of which he had been
+made the subject. Again he had appealed to her love for him, and again
+she had refused to marry him at his own time.
+
+He was especially perplexed and angry, when he reflected on the
+unassailably strong influence which her uncle appeared to have over her.
+All Regina’s sympathy was with Mr. Farnaby and his troubles. Amelius
+might have understood her a little better, if she had told him what
+had passed between her uncle and herself on the night of Mr. Farnaby’s
+return, in a state of indignation, from the lecture. In terror of the
+engagement being broken off, she had been forced to confess that she
+was too fond of Amelius to prevail on herself to part with him. If
+he attempted a second exposition of his Socialist principles on the
+platform, she owned that it might be impossible to receive him again as
+a suitor. But she pleaded hard for the granting of a pardon to the first
+offence, in the interests of her own tranquillity, if not in mercy to
+Amelius. Mr. Farnaby, already troubled by his commercial anxieties,
+had listened more amiably, and also more absently, than usual; and had
+granted her petition with the ready indulgence of a preoccupied man. It
+had been decided between them that the offence of the lecture should be
+passed over in discreet silence. Regina’s gratitude for this concession
+inspired her sympathy with her uncle in his present state of suspense.
+She had been sorely tempted to tell Amelius what had happened. But the
+natural reserve of her character--fortified, in this instance, by the
+defensive pride which makes a woman unwilling, before marriage, to
+confess her weakness unreservedly to the man who has caused it--had
+sealed her lips. “When he is a little less violent and a little more
+humble,” she thought, “perhaps I may tell him.”
+
+So it fell out that Amelius took his way through the streets, a
+mystified and an angry man.
+
+Arrived in sight of the hotel, he stopped, and looked about him.
+
+It was impossible to disguise from himself that a lurking sense of
+regret was making itself felt, in his present frame of mind, when he
+thought of Simple Sally. In all probability, he would have quarrelled
+with any man who had accused him of actually lamenting the girl’s
+absence, and wanting her back again. He happened to recollect her
+artless blue eyes, with their vague patient look, and her quaint
+childish questions put so openly in so sweet a voice--and that was
+all. Was there anything reprehensible, if you please, in an act of
+remembrance? Comforting himself with these considerations, he moved on
+again a step or two--and stopped once more. In his present humour,
+he shrank from facing Rufus. The American read him like a book; the
+American would ask irritating questions. He turned his back on the
+hotel, and looked at his watch. As he took it out, his finger and thumb
+touched something else in his waistcoat-pocket. It was the card that
+Regina had given to him--the card of the cottage to let. He had nothing
+to do, and nowhere to go. Why not look at the cottage? If it proved
+to be not worth seeing, the Zoological Gardens were in the
+neighbourhood--and there are periods in a man’s life when he finds the
+society that walks on four feet a welcome relief from the society that
+walks on two.
+
+It was a fairly fine day. He turned northward towards the Regent’s Park.
+
+The cottage was in a by-road, just outside the park: a cottage in
+the strictest sense of the word. A sitting-room, a library, and a
+bedroom--all of small proportions--and, under them a kitchen and two
+more rooms, represented the whole of the little dwelling from top to
+bottom. It was simply and prettily furnished; and it was completely
+surrounded by its own tiny plot of garden-ground. The library especially
+was a perfect little retreat, looking out on the back garden; peaceful
+and shady, and adorned with bookcases of old carved oak.
+
+Amelius had hardly looked round the room, before his inflammable brain
+was on fire with a new idea. Other idle men in trouble had found the
+solace and the occupation of their lives in books. Why should he not
+be one of them? Why not plunge into study in this delightful
+retirement--and perhaps, one day, astonish Regina and Mr. Farnaby
+by bursting on the world as the writer of a famous book? Exactly as
+Amelius, two days since, had seen himself in the future, a public
+lecturer in receipt of glorious fees--so he now saw himself the
+celebrated scholar and writer of a new era to come. The woman who showed
+the cottage happened to mention that a gentleman had already looked over
+it that morning, and had seemed to like it. Amelius instantly gave her
+a shilling, and said, “I take it on the spot.” The wondering woman
+referred him to the house-agent’s address, and kept at a safe distance
+from the excitable stranger as she let him out. In less than another
+hour, Amelius had taken the cottage, and had returned to the hotel with
+a new interest in life and a new surprise for Rufus.
+
+As usual, in cases of emergency, the American wasted no time in talking.
+He went out at once to see the cottage, and to make his own inquiries
+of the agent. The result amply proved that Amelius had not been imposed
+upon. If he repented of his bargain, the gentleman who had first seen
+the cottage was ready to take it off his hands, at a moment’s notice.
+
+Going back to the Hotel, Rufus found Amelius resolute to move into
+his new abode, and eager for the coming life of study and retirement.
+Knowing perfectly well before-hand how this latter project would end,
+the American tried the efficacy of a little worldly temptation. He had
+arranged, he said, “to have a good time of it in Paris”; and he proposed
+that Amelius should be his companion. The suggestion produced not the
+slightest effect; Amelius talked as if he was a confirmed recluse,
+in the decline of life. “Thank you,” he said, with the most amazing
+gravity; “I prefer the company of my books, and the seclusion of my
+study.” This declaration was followed by more selling-out of money
+in the Funds, and by a visit to a bookseller, which left a handsome
+pecuniary result inscribed on the right side of the ledger.
+
+On the next day, Amelius presented himself towards two o’clock at Mr.
+Farnaby’s house. He was not so selfishly absorbed in his own projects
+as to forget Mrs. Farnaby. On the contrary, he was honestly anxious for
+news of her.
+
+A certain middle-aged man of business has been briefly referred to, in
+these pages, as one of Regina’s faithful admirers, patiently submitting
+to the triumph of his favoured young rival. This gentleman, issuing from
+his carriage with his card-case ready in his hand, met Amelius at
+the door, with a face which announced plainly that a catastrophe had
+happened. “You have heard the sad news, no doubt?” he said, in a rich
+bass voice attuned to sadly courteous tones. The servant opened the
+door before Amelius could answer. After a contest of politeness, the
+middle-aged gentleman consented to make his inquiries first. “How is Mr.
+Farnaby? No better? And Miss Regina? Very poorly, oh? Dear, dear me!
+Say I called, if you please.” He handed in two cards, with a severe
+enjoyment of the melancholy occasion and the rich bass sounds of his
+own voice. “Very sad, is it not?” he said, addressing his youthful
+rival with an air of paternal indulgence. “Good morning.” He bowed with
+melancholy grace, and got into his carriage.
+
+Amelius looked after the prosperous merchant, as the prancing horses
+drew him away. “After all,” he thought bitterly, “she might be happier
+with that rich prig than she could be with me.” He stepped into the
+hall, and spoke to the servant. The man had his message ready. Miss
+Regina would see Mr. Goldenheart, if he would be so good as to wait in
+the dinning-room.
+
+Regina appeared, pale and scared; her eyes inflamed with weeping. “Oh,
+Amelius, can you tell me what this dreadful misfortune means? Why has
+she left us? When she sent for you yesterday, what did she say?”
+
+In his position, Amelius could make but one answer. “Your aunt said she
+thought of going away. But,” he added, with perfect truth, “she refused
+to tell me why, or where she was going. I am quite as much at a loss to
+understand her as you are. What does your uncle propose to do?”
+
+Mr. Farnaby’s conduct, as described by Regina, thickened the mystery--he
+proposed to do nothing.
+
+He had been found on the hearth-rug in his dressing-room; having
+apparently been seized with a fit, in the act of burning some paper.
+The ashes were discovered close by him, just inside the fender. On his
+recovery, his first anxiety was to know if a letter had been burnt.
+Satisfied on this point, he had ordered the servants to assemble round
+his bed, and had peremptorily forbidden them to open the door to their
+mistress, if she ever returned at any future time to the house. Regina’s
+questions and remonstrances, when she was left alone with him, were
+answered, once for all, in these pitiless terms:--“If you wish to
+deserve the fatherly interest that I take in you, do as I do: forget
+that such a person as your aunt ever existed. We shall quarrel, if you
+ever mention her name in my hearing again.” This said, he had instantly
+changed the subject; instructing Regina to write an excuse to “Mr.
+Melton” (otherwise, the middle-aged rival), with whom he had been
+engaged to dine that evening. Relating this latter event, Regina’s
+ever-ready gratitude overflowed in the direction of Mr. Melton. “He was
+so kind! he left his guests in the evening, and came and sat with my
+uncle for nearly an hour.” Amelius made no remark on this; he led the
+conversation back to the subject of Mrs. Farnaby. “She once spoke to me
+of her lawyers,” he said. “Do _they_ know nothing about her?”
+
+The answer to this question showed that the sternly final decision of
+Mr. Farnaby was matched by equal resolution on the part of his wife.
+
+One of the partners in the legal firm had called that morning, to see
+Regina on a matter of business. Mrs. Farnaby had appeared at the office
+on the previous day, and had briefly expressed her wish to make a small
+annual provision for her niece, in case of future need. Declining to
+enter into any explanation, she had waited until the necessary document
+had been drawn out; had requested that Regina might be informed of the
+circumstance; and had then taken her departure in absolute silence.
+Hearing that she had left her husband, the lawyer, like every one else,
+was completely at a loss to understand what it meant.
+
+“And what does the doctor say?” Amelius asked next.
+
+“My uncle is to be kept perfectly quiet,” Regina answered; “and is not
+to return to business for some time to come. Mr. Melton, with his usual
+kindness, has undertaken to look after his affairs for him. Otherwise,
+my uncle, in his present state of anxiety about the bank, would never
+have consented to obey the doctor’s orders. When he can safely travel,
+he is recommended to go abroad for the winter, and get well again in
+some warmer climate. He refuses to leave his business--and the doctor
+refuses to take the responsibility. There is to be a consultation of
+physicians tomorrow. Oh, Amelius, I was really fond of my aunt--I am
+heart-broken at this dreadful change!”
+
+There was a momentary silence. If Mr. Melton had been present, he would
+have said a few neatly sympathetic words. Amelius knew no more than
+a savage of the art of conventional consolation. Tadmor had made him
+familiar with the social and political questions of the time, and had
+taught him to speak in public. But Tadmor, rich in books and newspapers,
+was a powerless training institution in the matter of small talk.
+
+“Suppose Mr. Farnaby is obliged to go abroad,” he suggested, after
+waiting a little, “what will you do?”
+
+Regina looked at him, with an air of melancholy surprise. “I shall do
+my duty, of course,” she answered gravely. “I shall accompany my dear
+uncle, if he wishes it.” She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece.
+“It is time he took his medicine,” she resumed; “you will excuse me,
+I am sure.” She shook hands, not very warmly--and hastened out of the
+room.
+
+Amelius left the house, with a conviction which disheartened him--the
+conviction that he had never understood Regina, and that he was not
+likely to understand her in the future. He turned for relief to the
+consideration of Mr. Farnaby’s strange conduct, under the domestic
+disaster which had befallen him.
+
+Recalling what he had observed for himself, and what he had heard
+from Mrs. Farnaby when she had first taken him into her confidence, he
+inferred that the subject of the lost child had not only been a subject
+of estrangement between the husband and wife, but that the husband was,
+in some way, the person blamable for it. Assuming this theory to be the
+right one, there would be serious obstacles to the meeting of the mother
+and child, in the mother’s home. The departure of Mrs. Farnaby was,
+in that case, no longer unintelligible--and Mr. Farnaby’s otherwise
+inexplicable conduct had the light of a motive thrown on it, which might
+not unnaturally influence a hard-hearted man weary alike of his wife
+and his wife’s troubles. Arriving at this conclusion by a far shorter
+process than is here indicated, Amelius pursued the subject no further.
+At the time when he had first visited the Farnabys, Rufus had advised
+him to withdraw from closer intercourse with them, while he had the
+chance. In his present mood, he was almost in danger of acknowledging to
+himself that Rufus had proved to be right.
+
+He lunched with his American friend at the hotel. Before the meal was
+over Mrs. Payson called, to say a few cheering words about Sally.
+
+It was not to be denied that the girl remained persistently silent and
+reserved. In other respects the report was highly favourable. She was
+obedient to the rules of the house; she was always ready with any little
+services that she could render to her companions; and she was so eager
+to improve herself, by means of her reading-lessons and writing-lessons,
+that it was not easy to induce her to lay aside her book and her slate.
+When the teacher offered her some small reward for her good conduct,
+and asked what she would like, the sad little face brightened, and the
+faithful creature’s answer was always the same--“I should like to know
+what he is doing now.” (Alas for Sally!--“he” meant Amelius.)
+
+“You must wait a little longer before you write to her,” Mrs. Payson
+concluded, “and you must not think of seeing her for some time to come.
+I know you will help us by consenting to this--for Sally’s sake.”
+
+Amelius bowed in silence. He would not have confessed what he felt, at
+that moment, to any living soul--it is doubtful if he even confessed
+it to himself. Mrs. Payson, observing him with a woman’s keen sympathy,
+relented a little. “I might give her a message,” the good lady
+suggested--“just to say you are glad to hear she is behaving so well.”
+
+“Will you give her this?” Amelius asked.
+
+He took from his pocket a little photograph of the cottage, which he had
+noticed on the house-agent’s desk, and had taken away with him. “It is
+_my_ cottage now,” he explained, in tones that faltered a little; “I am
+going to live there; Sally might like to see it.”
+
+“Sally _shall_ see it,” Mrs. Payson agreed--“if you will only let
+me take this away first.” She pointed to the address of the cottage,
+printed under the photograph. Past experience in the Home made her
+reluctant to trust Sally with the address in London at which Amelius was
+to be found.
+
+Rufus produced a huge complex knife, out of the depths of which a pair
+of scissors burst on touching a spring. Mrs. Payson cut off the address,
+and placed the photograph in her pocket-book. “Now,” she said, “Sally
+will be happy, and no harm can come of it.”
+
+“I’ve known you, ma’am, nigh on twenty years,” Rufus remarked. “I do
+assure you that’s the first rash observation I ever heard from your
+lips.”
+
+
+
+
+BOOK THE SEVENTH. THE VANISHING HOPES
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 1
+
+Two days later, Amelius moved into his cottage.
+
+He had provided himself with a new servant, as easily as he had provided
+himself with a new abode. A foreign waiter at the hotel--a gray-haired
+Frenchman of the old school, reputed to be the most ill-tempered
+servant in the house--had felt the genial influence of Amelius with the
+receptive readiness of his race. Here was a young Englishman, who spoke
+to him as easily and pleasantly as if he was speaking to a friend--who
+heard him relate his little grievances, and never took advantage of that
+circumstance to turn him into ridicule--who said kindly, “I hope you
+don’t mind my calling you by your nickname,” when he ventured to explain
+that his Christian name was “Theophile,” and that his English fellow
+servants had facetiously altered and shortened it to “Toff,” to suit
+their insular convenience. “For the first time, sir,” he had hastened
+to add, “I feel it an honour to be Toff, when _you_ speak to me.” Asking
+everybody whom he met if they could recommend a servant to him, Amelius
+had put the question, when Toff came in one morning with the hot water.
+The old Frenchman made a low bow, expressive of devotion. “I know of
+but one man, sir, whom I can safely recommend,” he answered--“take me.”
+ Amelius was delighted; he had only one objection to make. “I don’t want
+to keep two servants,” he said, while Toff was helping him on with his
+dressing-gown. “Why should you keep two servants, sir?” the Frenchman
+inquired. Amelius answered, “I can’t ask you to make the beds.” “Why
+not?” said Toff--and made the bed, then and there, in five minutes. He
+ran out of the room, and came back with one of the chambermaid’s brooms.
+“Judge for yourself, sir--can I sweep a carpet?” He placed a chair for
+Amelius. “Permit me to save you the trouble of shaving yourself. Are
+you satisfied? Very good. I am equally capable of cutting your hair, and
+attending to your corns (if you suffer, sir, from that inconvenience).
+Will you allow me to propose something which you have not had yet for
+your breakfast?” In half an hour more, he brought in the new dish.
+“Oeufs a la Tripe. An elementary specimen, sir, of what I can do for you
+as a cook. Be pleased to taste it.” Amelius ate it all up on the spot;
+and Toff applied the moral, with the neatest choice of language. “Thank
+you, sir, for a gratifying expression of approval. One more specimen
+of my poor capabilities, and I have done. It is barely possible--God
+forbid!--that you may fall ill. Honour me by reading that document.” He
+handed a written paper to Amelius, dated some years since in Paris, and
+signed in an English name. “I testify with gratitude and pleasure
+that Theophile Leblond has nursed me through a long illness, with an
+intelligence and devotion which I cannot too highly praise.” “May you
+never employ me, sir, in that capacity,” said Toff. “I have only to
+add that I am not so old as I look, and that my political opinions have
+changed, in later life, from red-republican to moderate-liberal. I also
+confess, if necessary, that I still have an ardent admiration for the
+fair sex.” He laid his hand on his heart, and waited to be engaged.
+
+So the household at the cottage was modestly limited to Amelius and
+Toff.
+
+Rufus remained for another week in London, to watch the new experiment.
+He had made careful inquiries into the Frenchman’s character, and had
+found that the complaints of his temper really amounted to this--that
+“he gave himself the airs of a gentleman, and didn’t understand a joke.”
+ On the question of honesty and sobriety, the testimony of the proprietor
+of the hotel left Rufus nothing to desire. Greatly to his surprise,
+Amelius showed no disposition to grow weary of his quiet life, or to
+take refuge in perilous amusements from the sober society of his books.
+He was regular in his inquiries at Mr. Farnaby’s house; he took long
+walks by himself; he never mentioned Sally’s name; he lost his interest
+in going to the theatre, and he never appeared in the smoking-room of
+the club. Some men, observing the remarkable change which had passed
+over his excitable temperament, would have hailed it as a good sign for
+the future. The New Englander looked below the surface, and was not so
+easily deceived. “My bright boy’s soul is discouraged and cast down,”
+ was the conclusion that he drew. “There’s darkness in him where there
+once was light; and, what’s worse than all, he caves in, and keeps it to
+himself.” After vainly trying to induce Amelius to open his heart, Rufus
+at last went to Paris, with a mind that was ill at ease.
+
+On the day of the American’s departure, the march of events was resumed;
+and the unnaturally quiet life of Amelius began to be disturbed again.
+
+Making his customary inquiries in the forenoon at Mr. Farnaby’s door,
+he found the household in a state of agitation. A second council of
+physicians had been held, in consequence of the appearance of some
+alarming symptoms in the case of the patient. On this occasion, the
+medical men told him plainly that he would sacrifice his life to his
+obstinacy, if he persisted in remaining in London and returning to
+his business. By good fortune, the affairs of the bank had greatly
+benefited, through the powerful interposition of Mr. Melton. With the
+improved prospects, Mr. Farnaby (at his niece’s entreaty) submitted to
+the doctor’s advice. He was to start on the first stage of his journey
+the next morning; and, at his own earnest desire, Regina was to go with
+him. “I hate strangers and foreigners; and I don’t like being alone. If
+you don’t go with me, I shall stay where I am--and die.” So Mr. Farnaby
+put it to his adopted daughter, in his rasping voice and with his hard
+frown.
+
+“I am grieved, dear Amelius, to go away from you,” Regina said; “but
+what can I do? It would have been so nice if you could have gone with
+us. I did hint something of the sort; but--”
+
+Her downcast face finished the sentence. Amelius felt the bare idea of
+being Mr. Farnaby’s travelling companion make his blood run cold. And
+Mr. Farnaby, on his side, reciprocated the sentiment. “I will write
+constantly, dear,” Regina resumed; “and you will write back, won’t you?
+Say you love me; and promise to come tomorrow morning, before we go.”
+
+She kissed him affectionately--and, the instant after, checked the
+responsive outburst of tenderness in Amelius, by that utter want of tact
+which (in spite of the popular delusion to the contrary) is so much more
+common in women than in men, “My uncle is so particular about packing
+his linen,” she said; “nobody can please him but me; I must ask you to
+let me run upstairs again.”
+
+Amelius went out into the street, with his head down and his lips fast
+closed. He was not far from Mrs. Payson’s house. “Why shouldn’t I call?”
+ he thought to himself. His conscience added, “And hear some news of
+Sally.”
+
+There was good news. The girl was brightening mentally and
+physically--she was in a fair way, if she only remained in the Home, to
+be “Simple” Sally no longer. Amelius asked if she had got the photograph
+of the cottage. Mrs. Payson laughed. “Sleeps with it under her pillow,
+poor child,” she said, “and looks at it fifty times a day.” Thirty years
+since, with infinitely less experience to guide her, the worthy matron
+would have followed her instincts, and would have hesitated to tell
+Amelius quite so much about the photograph. But some of a woman’s
+finer sensibilities do get blunted with the advance of age and the
+accumulation of wisdom.
+
+Instead of pursuing the subject of Sally’s progress, Amelius, to Mrs.
+Payson’s surprise, made a clumsy excuse, and abruptly took his leave.
+
+He felt the need of being alone; he was conscious of a vague distrust
+of himself, which degraded him in his own estimation. Was he, like
+characters he had read of in books, the victim of a fatality?
+The slightest circumstances conspired to heighten his interest in
+Sally--just at the time when Regina had once more disappointed him.
+He was as firmly convinced, as if he had been the strictest moralist
+living, that it was an insult to Regina, and an insult to his own
+self-respect, to set the lost creature whom he had rescued in any light
+of comparison with the young lady who was one day to be his wife. And
+yet, try as he might to drive her out, Sally kept her place in his
+thoughts. There was, apparently, some innate depravity in him. If a
+looking-glass had been handed to him at that moment, he would have been
+ashamed to look himself in the face.
+
+After walking until he was weary, he went to his club.
+
+The porter gave him a letter as he crossed the hall. Mrs. Farnaby had
+kept her promise, and had written to him. The smoking-room was deserted
+at that time of day. He opened his letter in solitude, looked at it,
+crumpled it up impatiently, and put it into his pocket. Not even Mrs.
+Farnaby could interest him at that critical moment. His own affairs
+absorbed him. The one idea in his mind, after what he had heard about
+Sally, was the idea of making a last effort to hasten the date of his
+marriage before Mr. Farnaby left England. “If I can only feel sure of
+Regina--”
+
+His thoughts went no further than that. He walked up and down the
+empty smoking-room, anxious and irritable, dissatisfied with himself,
+despairing of the future. “I can but try it!” he suddenly decided--and
+turned at once to the table to write a letter.
+
+Death had been busy with the members of his family in the long interval
+that had passed since he and his father left England. His nearest
+surviving relative was his uncle--his father’s younger brother--who
+occupied a post of high importance in the Foreign Office. To this
+gentleman he now wrote, announcing his arrival in England, and his
+anxiety to qualify himself for employment in a Government office. “Be so
+good as to grant me an interview,” he concluded; “and I hope to satisfy
+you that I am not unworthy of your kindness, if you will exert your
+influence in my favour.”
+
+He sent away his letter at once by a private messenger, with
+instructions to wait for an answer.
+
+It was not without doubt, and even pain, that he had opened
+communication with a man whose harsh treatment of his father it was
+impossible for him to forget. What could the son expect? There was but
+one hope. Time might have inclined the younger brother to make atonement
+to the memory of the elder, by a favourable reception of his nephew’s
+request.
+
+His father’s last words of caution, his own boyish promise not to claim
+kindred with his relations in England, were vividly present to the mind
+of Amelius, while he waited for the return of the messenger. His one
+justification was in the motives that animated him. Circumstances, which
+his father had never anticipated, rendered it an act of duty towards
+himself to make the trial at least of what his family interest could
+do for him. There could be no sort of doubt that a man of Mr. Farnaby’s
+character would yield, if Amelius could announce that he had the promise
+of an appointment under Government--with the powerful influence of a
+near relation to accelerate his promotion. He sat, idly drawing lines
+on the blotting-paper; at one moment regretting that he had sent his
+letter; at another, comforting himself in the belief that, if his father
+had been living to advise him, his father would have approved of the
+course that he had taken.
+
+The messenger returned with these lines of reply:--
+
+“Under any ordinary circumstances, I should have used my influence
+to help you on in the world. But, when you not only hold the most
+abominable political opinions, but actually proclaim those opinions in
+public, I am amazed at your audacity in writing to me. There must be
+no more communication between us. While you are a Socialist, you are a
+stranger to me.”
+
+Amelius accepted this new rebuff with ominous composure. He sat quietly
+smoking in the deserted room, with his uncle’s letter in his hand.
+
+Among the other disastrous results of the lecture, some of the
+newspapers had briefly reported it. Preoccupied by his anxieties,
+Amelius had forgotten this when he wrote to his relative. “Just like
+me!” he thought, as he threw the letter into the fire. His last hopes
+floated up the chimney, with the tiny puff of smoke from the burnt
+paper. There was now no other chance of shortening the marriage
+engagement left to try. He had already applied to the good friend whom
+he had mentioned to Regina. The answer, kindly written in this case, had
+not been very encouraging:--
+
+“I have other claims to consider. All that I can do, I will do. Don’t be
+disheartened--I only ask you to wait.”
+
+Amelius rose to go home--and sat down again. His natural energy seemed
+to have deserted him--it required an effort to leave the club. He took
+up the newspapers, and threw them aside, one after another. Not one
+of the unfortunate writers and reporters could please him on that
+inauspicious day. It was only while he was lighting his second cigar
+that he remembered Mrs. Farnaby’s unread letter to him. By this time, he
+was more than weary of his own affairs. He read the letter.
+
+“I find the people who have my happiness at their mercy both dilatory
+and greedy.” (Mrs. Farnaby wrote); “but the little that I can persuade
+them to tell me is very favourable to my hopes. I am still, to my
+annoyance, only in personal communication with the hateful old woman.
+The young man either sends messages, or writes to me through the post.
+By this latter means he has accurately described, not only in which
+of my child’s feet the fault exists, but the exact position which it
+occupies. Here, you will agree with me, is positive evidence that he is
+speaking the truth, whoever he is.
+
+“But for this reassuring circumstance, I should feel inclined to be
+suspicious of some things--of the obstinate manner, for instance, in
+which the young man keeps himself concealed; also, of his privately
+warning me not to trust the woman who is his own messenger, and not to
+tell her on any account of the information which his letters convey
+to me. I feel that I ought to be cautious with him on the question of
+money--and yet, in my eagerness to see my darling, I am ready to
+give him all that he asks for. In this uncertain state of mind, I am
+restrained, strangely enough, by the old woman herself. She warns me
+that he is the sort of man, if he once gets the money, to spare himself
+the trouble of earning it. It is the one hold I have over him (she
+says)--so I control the burning impatience that consumes me as well as I
+can.
+
+“No! I must not attempt to describe my own state of mind. When I tell
+you that I am actually afraid of dying before I can give my sweet love
+the first kiss, you will understand and pity me. When night comes, I
+feel sometimes half mad.
+
+“I send you my present address, in the hope that you will write and
+cheer me a little. I must not ask you to come and see me yet. I am not
+fit for it--and, besides, I am under a promise, in the present state of
+the negotiations, to shut the door on my friends. It is easy enough to
+do that; I have no friend, Amelius, but you.
+
+“Try to feel compassionately towards me, my kind-hearted boy. For so
+many long years, my heart has had nothing to feed on but the one hope
+that is now being realized at last. No sympathy between my husband and
+me (on the contrary, a horrid unacknowledged enmity, which has always
+kept us apart); my father and mother, in their time both wretched about
+my marriage, and with good reason; my only sister dying in poverty--what
+a life for a childless woman! don’t let us dwell on it any longer.
+
+“Goodbye for the present, Amelius. I beg you will not think I am always
+wretched. When I want to be happy, I look to the coming time.”
+
+This melancholy letter added to the depression that weighed on the
+spirits of Amelius. It inspired him with vague fears for Mrs. Farnaby.
+In her own interests, he would have felt himself tempted to consult
+Rufus (without mentioning names), if the American had been in London. As
+things were, he put the letter back in his pocket with a sigh. Even Mrs.
+Farnaby, in her sad moments, had a consoling prospect to contemplate.
+“Everybody but me!” Amelius thought.
+
+His reflections were interrupted by the appearance of an idle young
+member of the club, with whom he was acquainted. The new-comer remarked
+that he looked out of spirits, and suggested that they should dine
+together and amuse themselves somewhere in the evening. Amelius accepted
+the proposal: any man who offered him a refuge from himself was a friend
+to him on that day. Departing from his temperate habits, he deliberately
+drank more than usual. The wine excited him for the time, and then left
+him more depressed than ever; and the amusements of the evening produced
+the same result. He returned to his cottage so completely disheartened,
+that he regretted the day when he had left Tadmor.
+
+But he kept his appointment, the next morning, to take leave of Regina.
+
+The carriage was at the door, with a luggage-laden cab waiting behind
+it. Mr. Farnaby’s ill-temper vented itself in predictions that they
+would be too late to catch the train. His harsh voice, alternating
+with Regina’s meek remonstrances, reached the ears of Amelius from the
+breakfast-room. “I’m not going to wait for the gentleman-Socialist,”
+ Mr. Farnaby announced, with his hardest sarcasm of tone. “Dear uncle,
+we have a quarter of an hour to spare!” “We have nothing of the sort;
+we want all that time to register the luggage.” The servant’s voice was
+heard next. “Mr. Goldenheart, miss.” Mr. Farnaby instantly stepped into
+the hall. “Goodbye!” he called to Amelius, through the open door of the
+dining-room--and passed straight on to the carriage. “I shan’t wait,
+Regina!” he shouted, from the doorstep. “Let him go by himself!” said
+Amelius indignantly, as Regina hurried into the room. “Oh, hush, hush,
+dear! Suppose he heard you? No week shall pass without my writing to
+you; promise you will write back, Amelius. One more kiss! Oh, my dear!”
+ The servant interposed, keeping discreetly out of sight. “I beg your
+pardon, miss, my master wishes to know whether you are going with him or
+not.” Regina waited to hear no more. She gave her lover a farewell look
+to remember her by, and ran out.
+
+That innate depravity which Amelius had lately discovered in his own
+nature, let the forbidden thoughts loose in him again as he watched the
+departing carriage from the door. “If poor little Sally had been in her
+place--!” He made an effort of virtuous resolution, and stopped there.
+“What a blackguard a man may be,” he penitently reflected, “without
+suspecting it himself!”
+
+He descended the house-steps. The discreet servant wished him good
+morning, with a certain cheery respect--the man was delighted to have
+seen the last of his hard master for some months to come. Amelius
+stopped and turned round, smiling grimly. He was in such a reckless
+humour, that he was even ready to divert his mind by astonishing a
+footman. “Richard,” he said, “are you engaged to be married?” Richard
+stared in blank surprise at the strange question--and modestly admitted
+that he was engaged to marry the housemaid next door. “Soon?” asked
+Amelius, swinging his stick. “As soon as I have saved a little more
+money, sir.” “Damn the money!” cried Amelius--and struck his stick on
+the pavement, and walked away with a last look at the house as if he
+hated the sight of it. Richard watched the departing young gentleman,
+and shook his head ominously as he shut the door.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 2
+
+Amelius went straight back to the cottage, with the one desperate
+purpose of reverting to the old plan, and burying himself in his books.
+Surveying his well-filled shelves with an impatience unworthy of a
+scholar, Hume’s “History of England” unhappily caught his eye. He took
+down the first volume. In less than half an hour he discovered that
+Hume could do nothing for him. Wisely inspired, he turned to the truer
+history next, which men call fiction. The writings of the one supreme
+genius, who soars above all other novelists as Shakespeare soars above
+all other dramatists--the writings of Walter Scott--had their place of
+honour in his library. The collection of the Waverley Novels at Tadmor
+had not been complete. Enviable Amelius had still to read _Rob Roy._
+He opened the book. For the rest of the day he was in love with Diana
+Vernon; and when he looked out once or twice at the garden to rest his
+eyes, he saw “Andrew Fairservice” busy over the flowerbeds.
+
+He closed the last page of the noble story as Toff came in to lay the
+cloth for dinner.
+
+The master at table and the servant behind his chair were accustomed
+to gossip pleasantly during meals. Amelius did his best to carry on the
+talk as usual. But he was no longer in the delightful world of illusion
+which Scott had opened to him. The hard realities of his own everyday
+life had gathered round him again. Observing him with unobtrusive
+attention, the Frenchman soon perceived the absence of the easy humour
+and the excellent appetite which distinguished his young master at other
+times.
+
+“May I venture to make a remark, sir?” Toff inquired, after a long pause
+in the conversation.
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“And may I take the liberty of expressing my sentiments freely?”
+
+“Of course you may.”
+
+“Dear sir, you have a pretty little simple dinner to-day,” Toff began.
+“Forgive me for praising myself, I am influenced by the natural pride
+of having cooked the dinner. For soup, you have Croute au pot; for meat,
+you have Tourne-dos a la sauce poivrade; for pudding, you have Pommes
+au beurre. All so nice--and you hardly eat anything, and your amiable
+conversation falls into a melancholy silence which fills me with regret.
+Is it you who are to blame for this? No, sir! it is the life you lead. I
+call it the life of a monk; I call it the life of a hermit--I say boldly
+it is the life of all others which is most unsympathetic to a young man
+like you. Pardon the warmth of my expressions; I am eager to make my
+language the language of utmost delicacy. May I quote a little song? It
+is in an old, old, old French piece, long since forgotten, called ‘Les
+Maris Garcons’. There are two lines in that song (I have often heard
+my good father sing them) which I will venture to apply to your case;
+‘Amour, delicatesse, et gaite; D’un bon Francais c’est la devise!’ Sir,
+you have naturally delicatesse and gaite--but the last has, for some
+days, been under a cloud. What is wanted to remove that cloud? L’Amour!
+Love, as you say in English. Where is the charming woman, who is the
+only ornament wanting to this sweet cottage? Why is she still invisible?
+Remedy that unhappy oversight, sir. You are here in a suburban Paradise.
+I consult my long experience; and I implore you to invite Eve.--Ha!
+you smile; your lost gaiety returns, and you feel it as I do. Might I
+propose another glass of claret, and the reappearance on the table of
+the Tourne-dos a la poivrade?”
+
+It was impossible to be melancholy in this man’s company. Amelius
+sanctioned the return of the Tourne-dos, and tried the other glass of
+claret. “My good friend,” he said, with something like a return of his
+old easy way, “you talk about charming women, and your long experience.
+Let’s hear what your experience has been.”
+
+For the first time Toff began to look a little confused.
+
+“You have honoured me, sir, by calling me your good friend,” he said.
+“After that, I am sure you will not send me away if I own the truth. No!
+My heart tells me I shall not appeal to your indulgence in vain. Dear
+sir, in the holidays which you kindly give me, I provide competent
+persons to take care of the house in my absence, don’t I? One person,
+if you remember, was a most handsome engaging young man. He is, if you
+please, my son by my first wife--now an angel in heaven. Another
+person, who took care of the house, on the next occasion, was a little
+black-eyed boy; a miracle of discretion for his age. He is my son by my
+second wife--now another angel in heaven. Forgive me, I have not
+done yet. Some few days since, you thought you heard an infant crying
+downstairs. Like a miserable wretch, I lied; I declared it was the
+infant in the next house. Ah, sir, it was my own cherubim baby by my
+third wife--an angel close by in the Edgeware Road, established in a
+small milliner shop, which will expand to great things by-and-by. The
+intervals between my marriages are not worthy of your notice. Fugitive
+caprices, sir--fugitive caprices! To sum it all up (as you say in
+England), it is not in me to resist the enchanting sex. If my third
+angel dies, I shall tear my hair--but I shall none the less take a
+fourth.”
+
+“Take a dozen if you like,” said Amelius. “Why should you have kept all
+this from my knowledge?”
+
+Toff hung his head. “I think it was one of my foreign mistakes,” he
+pleaded. “The servants’ advertisements in your English newspapers
+frighten me. How does the most meritorious manservant announce
+himself when he wants the best possible place? He says he is ‘without
+encumbrances.’ Gracious heaven, what a dreadful word to describe the
+poor pretty harmless children! I was afraid, sir, you might have some
+English objection to _my_ ‘encumbrances.’ A young man, a boy, and a
+cherubim-baby; not to speak of the sacred memories of two women, and the
+charming occasional society of a third; all inextricably enveloped in
+the life of one amorous-meritorious French person--surely there was
+reason for hesitation here? No matter; I bless my stars I know better
+now, and I withdraw myself from further notice. Permit me to recall your
+attention to the Roquefort cheese, and a mouthful of potato-salad to
+correct the richness of him.”
+
+
+The dinner was over at last. Amelius was alone again.
+
+It was a still evening. Not a breath of wind stirred among the trees in
+the garden; no vehicles passed along the by-road in which the cottage
+stood. Now and then, Toff was audible downstairs, singing French songs
+in a high cracked voice, while he washed the plates and dishes, and
+set everything in order for the night. Amelius looked at his
+bookshelves--and felt that, after _Rob Roy,_ there was no more reading
+for him that evening. The slow minutes followed one another wearily;
+the deadly depression of the earlier hours of the day was stealthily
+fastening its hold on him again. How might he best resist it? His
+healthy out-of-door habits at Tadmor suggested the only remedy that he
+could think of. Be his troubles what they might, his one simple method
+of resisting them, at all other times, was his simple method now. He
+went out for a walk.
+
+For two hours he rambled about the great north-western suburb of London.
+Perhaps he felt the heavy oppressive weather, or perhaps his good dinner
+had not agreed with him. Any way, he was so thoroughly worn out, that he
+was obliged to return to the cottage in a cab.
+
+Toff opened the door--but not with his customary alacrity. Amelius was
+too completely fatigued to notice any trifling circumstance. Otherwise,
+he would certainly have perceived something odd in the old Frenchman’s
+withered face. He looked at his master, as he relieved him of his
+hat and coat, with the strangest expression of interest and anxiety;
+modified by a certain sardonic sense of amusement underlying the more
+serious emotions. “A nasty dull evening,” Amelius said wearily.
+And Toff, always eager to talk at other times, only answered, “Yes,
+sir”--and retreated at once to the kitchen regions.
+
+The fire was bright; the curtains were drawn; the reading-lamp, with
+its ample green shade, was on the table--a more comfortable room no man
+could have found to receive him after a long walk. Reclining at his
+ease in his chair, Amelius thought of ringing for some restorative
+brandy-and-water. While he was thinking, he fell asleep; and, while he
+slept, he dreamed.
+
+Was it a dream?
+
+He certainly saw the library--not fantastically transformed, but just
+like what the room really was. So far, he might have been wide awake,
+looking at the familiar objects round him. But, after a while, an event
+happened which set the laws of reality at defiance. Simple Sally, miles
+away in the Home, made her appearance in the library, nevertheless. He
+saw the drawn curtains over the window parted from behind; he saw the
+girl step out from them, and stop, looking at him timidly. She was
+clothed in the plain dress that he had bought for her; and she looked
+more charming in it than ever. The beauty of health claimed kindred now,
+in her pretty face, with the beauty of youth: the wan cheeks had begun
+to fill out, and the pale lips were delicately suffused with their
+natural rosy red. Little by little her first fears seemed to subside.
+She smiled, and softly crossed the room, and stood at his side. After
+looking at him with a rapt expression of tenderness and delight, she
+laid her hands on the arm of the chair, and said, in the quaintly quiet
+way which he remembered so well, “I want to kiss you.” She bent over
+him, and kissed him with the innocent freedom of a child. Then she
+raised herself again, and looked backwards and forwards between Amelius
+and the lamp. “The firelight is the best,” she said. Darkness fell over
+the room as she spoke; he saw her no more; he heard her no more. A blank
+interval followed; there flowed over him the oblivion of perfect sleep.
+His next conscious sensation was a feeling of cold--he shivered, and
+woke.
+
+The impression of the dream was in his mind at the moment of waking. He
+started as he raised himself in the chair. Was he dreaming still? No; he
+was certainly awake. And, as certainly, the room was dark!
+
+He looked and looked. It was not to be denied, or explained away. There
+was the fire burning low, and leaving the room chilly--and there,
+just visible on the table, in the flicker of the dying flame, was the
+extinguished lamp!
+
+He mended the fire, and put his hand on the bell to ring for Toff, and
+thought better of it. What need had he of the lamplight? He was too
+weary for reading; he preferred going to sleep again, and dreaming again
+of Sally. Where was the harm in dreaming of the poor little soul, so far
+away from him? The happiest part of his life now was the part of it that
+was passed in sleep.
+
+As the fresh coals began to kindle feebly, he looked again at the
+lamp. It was odd, to say the least of it, that the light should have
+accidentally gone out, exactly at the right time to realize the fanciful
+extinction of it in his dream. How was it there was no smell of a
+burnt-out lamp? He was too lazy, or too tired, to pursue the question.
+Let the mystery remain a mystery--and let him rest in peace! He settled
+himself fretfully in his chair. What a fool he was to bother his head
+about a lamp, instead of closing his eyes and going to sleep again!
+
+The room began to recover its pleasant temperature. He shifted the
+cushion in the chair, so that it supported his head in perfect comfort,
+and composed himself to rest. But the capricious influences of sleep had
+deserted him: he tried one position after another, and all in vain.
+It was a mere mockery even to shut his eyes. He resigned himself
+to circumstances, and stretched out his legs, and looked at the
+companionable fire.
+
+Of late he had thought more frequently than usual of his past days in
+the Community. His mind went back again now to that bygone time. The
+clock on the mantelpiece struck nine. They were all at supper, at
+Tadmor--talking over the events of the day. He saw himself again at the
+long wooden table, with shy little Mellicent in the chair next to him,
+and his favourite dog at his feet waiting to be fed. Where was Mellicent
+now? It was a sad letter that she had written to him, with the strange
+fixed idea that he was to return to her one day. There was something
+very winning and lovable about the poor creature who had lived such a
+hard life at home, and had suffered so keenly. It was a comfort to think
+that she would go back to the Community. What happier destiny could she
+hope for? Would she take care of his dog for him when she went back?
+They had all promised to be kind to his pet animals in his absence; but
+the dog was fond of Mellicent; he would be happier with Mellicent than
+with the rest of them. And his little tame fawn, and his birds--how were
+they doing? He had not even written to inquire after them; he had been
+cruelly forgetful of those harmless dumb loving friends. In his present
+solitude, in his dreary doubts of the future, what would he not give to
+feel the dog nestling in his bosom, and the fawn’s little rough tongue
+licking his hand! His heart ached as he thought of it: a choking
+hysterical sensation oppressed his breathing. He tried to rise, and ring
+for lights, and rouse his manhood to endure and resist. It was not to be
+done. Where was his courage? where was the cheerfulness which had never
+failed him at other time? He sank back in the chair, and hid his face in
+his hands for shame at his own weakness, and burst out crying.
+
+The touch of soft persuasive fingers suddenly thrilled through him.
+
+His hands were gently drawn away from his face; a familiar voice, sweet
+and low, said, “Oh, don’t cry!” Dimly through his tears he saw the
+well-remembered little figure standing between him and the fire. In his
+unendurable loneliness, he had longed for his dog, he had longed for
+his fawn. There was the martyred creature from the streets, whom he
+had rescued from nameless horror, waiting to be his companion, servant,
+friend! There was the child-victim of cold and hunger, still only
+feeling her way to womanhood; innocent of all other aspirations, so long
+as she might fill the place which had once been occupied by the dog and
+the fawn!
+
+Amelius looked at her with a momentary doubt whether he was waking or
+sleeping. “Good God!” he cried, “am I dreaming again?”
+
+“No,” she said, simply. “You are awake this time. Let me dry your eyes;
+I know where you put your handkerchief.” She perched on his knee, and
+wiped away the tears, and smoothed his hair over his forehead. “I was
+frightened to show myself till I heard you crying,” she confessed. “Then
+I thought, ‘Come! he can’t be angry with me now’--and I crept out from
+behind the curtains there. The old man let me in. I can’t live without
+seeing you; I’ve tried till I could try no longer. I owned it to the old
+man when he opened the door. I said, ‘I only want to look at him; won’t
+you let me in?’ And he says, ‘God bless me, here’s Eve come already!’ I
+don’t know what he meant--he let me in, that’s all I care about. He’s a
+funny old foreigner. Send him away; I’m to be your servant now. Why
+were you crying? I’ve cried often enough about You. No; that can’t be--I
+can’t expect you to cry about _me;_ I can only expect you to scold me. I
+know I’m a bad girl.”
+
+She cast one doubtful look at him, and hung her head--waiting to be
+scolded. Amelius lost all control over himself. He took her in his arms
+and kissed her again and again. “You are a dear good grateful little
+creature!” he burst out--and suddenly stopped, aware too late of the act
+of imprudence which he had committed. He put her away from him; he tried
+to ask severe questions, and to administer merited reproof. Even if he
+had succeeded, Sally was too happy to listen to him. “It’s all right
+now,” she cried. “I’m never, never, never to go back to the Home! Oh,
+I’m so happy! Let’s light the lamp again!”
+
+She found the matchbox on the chimneypiece. In a minute more the room
+was bright. Amelius sat looking at her, perfectly incapable of deciding
+what he ought to say or do next. To complete his bewilderment, the voice
+of the attentive old Frenchman made itself heard through the door, in
+discreetly confidential tones.
+
+“I have prepared an appetising little supper, sir,” said Toff. “Be
+pleased to ring when you and the young lady are ready.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 3
+
+Toff’s interference proved to have its use. The announcement of
+the little supper--plainly implying Simple Sally’s reception at the
+cottage--reminded Amelius of his responsibilities. He at once stepped
+out into the passage, and closed the door behind him.
+
+The old Frenchman was waiting to be reprimanded or thanked, as the case
+might be, with his head down, his shoulders shrugged up to his ears, and
+the palms of his hands spread out appealingly on either side of him--a
+model of mute resignation to circumstances.
+
+“Do you know that you have put me in a very awkward position?” Amelius
+began.
+
+Toff lifted one of his hands to his heart. “You are aware of my
+weakness, sir. When that charming little creature presented herself at
+the door, sinking with fatigue, I could no more resist her than I could
+take a hop-skip-and-jump over the roof of this cottage. If I have done
+wrong, take no account of the proud fidelity with which I have served
+you--tell me to pack up and go; but don’t ask me to assume a position of
+severity towards that enchanting Miss. It is not in my heart to do
+it,” said Toff, lifting his eyes with tearful solemnity to an imaginary
+heaven. “On my sacred word of honour as a Frenchman, I would die rather
+than do it!”
+
+“Don’t talk nonsense,” Amelius rejoined a little impatiently. “I don’t
+blame you--but you have got me into a scrape, for all that. If I did my
+duty, I should send for a cab, and take her back.”
+
+Toff opened his twinkling old eyes in a perfect transport of
+astonishment. “What!” he cried, “take her back? Without rest, without
+supper? And you call that duty? How inconceivably ugly does duty look
+when it assumes an inhospitable aspect towards a woman! Pardon me, sir;
+I must express my sentiments or I shall burst. You will say perhaps that
+I have no conception of duty? Pardon me again--my conception of duty is
+_here!”_
+
+He threw open the door of the sitting-room. In spite of his anxiety,
+Amelius burst out laughing. The Frenchman’s inexhaustible contrivances
+had transformed the sitting-room into a bedroom for Sally. The sofa had
+become a snug little white bed; a hairbrush and comb, and a bottle of
+eau-de-cologne, were on the table; a bath stood near the fire, with cans
+of hot and cold water, and a railway rug placed under them to save the
+carpet. “I dare not presume to contradict you, sir,” said Toff, “but
+there is _my_ conception of duty! In the kitchen, I have another
+conception, keeping warm; you can smell it up the stairs. Salmi of
+partridge, with the littlest possible dash of garlic in the sauce. Oh,
+sir, let that angel rest and refresh herself! Virtuous severity, believe
+me, is a most horribly unbecoming virtue at your age!” He spoke quite
+seriously, with the air of a profound moralist, asserting principles
+that did equal honour to his head and his heart.
+
+Amelius went back to the library.
+
+Sally was resting in the easy-chair; her position showed plainly that
+she was suffering from fatigue. “I have had a long, long walk,” she
+said; “and I don’t know which aches worst, my back or my feet. I don’t
+care--I’m quite happy now I’m here.” She nestled herself comfortably in
+the chair. “Do you mind my looking at you?” she asked. “Oh, it’s so long
+since I saw you!”
+
+There was a new undertone of tenderness in her voice--innocent
+tenderness that openly avowed itself. The reviving influences of the
+life at the Home had done much--and had much yet left to do. Her wasted
+face and figure were filling out, her cheeks and lips were regaining
+their lovely natural colour, as Amelius had seen in his dream. But her
+eyes, in repose, still resumed their vacantly patient look; and her
+manner, with a perceptible increase of composure and confidence, had
+not lost its quaint childish charm. Her growth from girl to woman was a
+growth of fine gradations, guided by the unerring deliberation of Nature
+and Time.
+
+“Do you think they will follow you here, from the Home?” Amelius asked.
+
+She looked at the clock. “I don’t think so,” she said quietly. “It’s
+hours since I slipped out by the back door. They have very strict rules
+about runaway girls--even when their friends bring them back. If _you_
+send me back--” she stopped, and looked thoughtfully into the fire.
+
+“What will you do, if I send you back?”
+
+“What one of our girls did, before they took her in at the Home. She
+jumped into the river. ‘Made a hole in the water’; that’s how she calls
+it. She’s a big strong girl; and they got her out, and saved her. She
+says it wasn’t painful, till they brought her to again. I’m little and
+weak--I don’t think they could bring _me_ to life, if they tried.”
+
+Amelius made a futile attempt to reason with her. He even got so far
+as to tell her that she had done very wrong to leave the Home. Sally’s
+answer set all further expostulation at defiance. Instead of attempting
+to defend herself, she sighed wearily, and said, “I had no money; I
+walked all the way here.”
+
+The well-intended remonstrances of Amelius were lost in compassionate
+surprise. “You poor little soul!” he exclaimed, “it must be seven or
+eight miles at least!”
+
+“I dare say,” said Sally. “It don’t matter, now I’ve found you.”
+
+“But how did you find me? Who told you where I lived?”
+
+She smiled, and took from her bosom the photograph of the cottage.
+
+“But Mrs. Payson cut off the address!” cried Amelius, bursting out with
+the truth in the impulse of the moment.
+
+Sally turned over the photograph, and pointed to the back of the card,
+on which the photographer’s name and address were printed. “Mrs. Payson
+didn’t think of this,” she said shyly.
+
+“Did _you_ think of it?” Amelius asked.
+
+Sally shook her head. “I’m too stupid,” she replied. “The girl who made
+the hole in the water put me up to it. ‘Have you made up your mind to
+run away?’ she says. And I said, ‘Yes.’ ‘You go to the man who did the
+picture,’ she says; ‘he knows where the place is, I’ll be bound.’ I
+asked my way till I found him. And he did know. And he told me. He was a
+good sort; he gave me a glass of beer, he said I looked so tired. I said
+we’d go and have our portraits taken some day--you, and your servant.
+May I tell the funny old foreigner that he is to go away now I have come
+to you?” The complete simplicity with which she betrayed her jealousy
+of Toff made Amelius smile. Sally, watching every change in his face,
+instantly drew her own conclusion. “Ah!” she said cheerfully, “I’ll keep
+your room cleaner than he keeps it! I smelt dust on the curtains when I
+was hiding from you.”
+
+Amelius thought of his dream. “Did you come out while I was asleep?” he
+asked.
+
+“Yes; I wasn’t frightened of you, when you were asleep. I had a good
+look at you; and I gave you a kiss.” She made that confession without
+the slightest sign of confusion; her calm blue eyes looked him straight
+in the face. “You got restless,” she went on; “and I got frightened
+again. I put out the lamp. I says to myself, ‘If he does scold me, I can
+bear it better in the dark.’”
+
+Amelius listened, wondering. Had he seen drowsily what he thought he
+had dreamed, or was there some mysterious sympathy between Sally and
+himself? The occult speculations were interrupted by Sally. “May I take
+off my bonnet, and make myself tidy?” she asked. Some men might have
+said No. Amelius was not one of them.
+
+The library possessed a door of communication with the sitting-room; the
+bedchamber occupied by Amelius being on the other side of the cottage.
+When Sally saw Toff’s reconstructed room, she stood at the door, in
+speechless admiration of the vision of luxury revealed to her. From time
+to time Amelius, alone in the library, heard her dabbling in her bath,
+and humming the artless old English song from which she had taken her
+name. Once she knocked at the closed door, and made a request through
+it--“There is scent on the table; may I have some?” And once Toff
+knocked at the other door, opening into the passage, and asked when
+“pretty young Miss” would be ready for supper. Events went on in the
+little household as if Sally had become an integral part of it already.
+“What _am_ I to do?” Amelius asked himself. And Toff, entering at the
+moment to lay the cloth, answered respectfully, “Hurry the young person,
+sir, or the salmi will be spoilt.”
+
+She came out from her room, walking delicately on her sore feet--so
+fresh and charming, that Toff, absorbed in admiration, made a mistake in
+folding a napkin for the first time in his life. “Champagne, of course,
+sir?” he said in confidence to Amelius. The salmi of partridge appeared;
+the inspiriting wine sparkled in the glasses; Toff surpassed himself
+in all the qualities which made a servant invaluable at a supper
+table. Sally forgot the Home, forgot the cruel streets, and laughed and
+chattered as gaily as the happiest girl living. Amelius, expanding in
+the joyous atmosphere of youth and good spirits, shook off his sense of
+responsibility, and became once more the delightful companion who won
+everybody’s love. The effervescent gaiety of the evening was at its
+climax; the awful forms of duty, propriety, and good sense had been long
+since laughed out of the room--when Nemesis, goddess of retribution,
+announced her arrival outside, by a crashing of carriage-wheels and a
+peremptory ring at the cottage bell.
+
+There was dead silence; Amelius and Sally looked at each other. The
+experienced Toff at once guessed what had happened. “Is it her father or
+mother?” he asked of Amelius, a little anxiously. Hearing that she had
+never even seen her father or mother, he snapped his fingers joyously,
+and led the way on tiptoe into the hall. “I have my idea,” he whispered.
+“Let us listen.”
+
+A woman’s voice, high, clear, and resolute, speaking apparently to the
+coachman, was the next audible sound. “Say I come from Mrs. Payson, and
+must see Mr. Goldenheart directly.” Sally trembled and turned pale.
+“The matron!” she said faintly. “Oh, don’t let her in!” Amelius took
+the terrified girl back to the library. Toff followed them, respectfully
+asking to be told what a “matron” was. Receiving the necessary
+explanation, he expressed his contempt for matrons bent on carrying
+charming persons into captivity, by opening the library door and
+spitting into the hall. Having relieved his mind in this way, he
+returned to his master and laid a lank skinny forefinger cunningly
+along the side of his nose. “I suppose, sir, you don’t want to see
+this furious woman?” he said. Before it was possible to say anything in
+reply, another ring at the bell announced that the furious woman wanted
+to see Amelius. Toff read his master’s wishes in his master’s face.
+Not even this emergency could find him unprepared: he was as ready to
+circumvent a matron as to cook a dinner. “The shutters are up, and the
+curtains are drawn,” he reminded Amelius. “Not a morsel of light is
+visible outside. Let them ring--we have all gone to bed.” He turned to
+Sally, grinning with impish enjoyment of his own stratagem. “Ha, Miss!
+what do you think of that?” There was a third pull at the bell as he
+spoke. “Ring away, Missess Matrone!” he cried. “We are fast asleep--wake
+us if you can.” The fourth ring was the last. A sharp crack revealed
+the breaking of the bellwire, and was followed by the shrill fall of the
+iron handle on the pavement before the garden gate. The gate, like the
+palings, was protected at the top from invading cats. “Compose yourself,
+Miss,” said Toff, “if she tries to get over the gate, she will stick on
+the spikes.” In another moment, the sound of retiring carriage-wheels
+announced the defeat of the matron, and settled the serious question of
+receiving Sally for the night.
+
+She sat silent by the window, when Toff had left the room, holding back
+the curtains and looking out at the murky sky.
+
+“What are you looking for?” Amelius asked.
+
+“I was looking for the stars.”
+
+Amelius joined her at the window. “There are no stars to be seen
+tonight.”
+
+She let the curtain fall to again. “I was thinking of night-time at the
+Home,” she said. “You see, I got on pretty well, in the day, with my
+reading and writing. I wanted so to improve myself. My mind was troubled
+with the fear of your despising such an ignorant creature as I am; so I
+kept on at my lessons. I thought I might surprise you by writing you a
+pretty letter some day. One of the teachers (she’s gone away ill) was
+very good to me. I used to talk to her; and, when I said a wrong word,
+she took me up, and told me the right one. She said you would think
+better of me when you heard me speak properly--and I do speak better,
+don’t I? All this was in the day. It was the night that was the hard
+time to get through--when the other girls were all asleep, and I had
+nothing to think of but how far away I was from you. I used to get
+up, and put the counterpane round me, and stand at the window. On
+fine nights the stars were company to me. There were two stars, near
+together, that I got to know. Don’t laugh at me--I used to think one of
+them was you, and one of them me. I wondered whether you would die, or
+I should die, before I saw you again. And, most always, it was my star
+that went out first. Lord, how I used to cry! It got into my poor stupid
+head that I should never see you again. I do believe I ran away because
+of that. You won’t tell anybody, will you? It was so foolish, I am
+ashamed of it now. I wanted to see your star and my star tonight. I
+don’t know why. Oh, I’m so fond of you!” She dropped on her knees, and
+took his hand, and put it on her head. “It’s burning hot,” she said,
+“and your kind hand cools it.”
+
+Amelius raised her gently, and led her to the door of her room. “My poor
+Sally, you are quite worn out. You want rest and sleep. Let us say good
+night.”
+
+“I will do anything you tell me,” she answered. “If Mrs. Payson comes
+tomorrow, you won’t let her take me away? Thank you. Goodnight.” She
+put her hands on his shoulders, with innocent familiarity, and lifted
+herself to him on tiptoe, and kissed him as a sister might have kissed
+him.
+
+Long after Sally was asleep in her bed, Amelius sat by the library fire,
+thinking.
+
+The revival of the crushed feeling and fancy in the girl’s nature,
+so artlessly revealed in her sad little story of the stars that were
+“company to her,” not only touched and interested him, but clouded his
+view of the future with doubts and anxieties which had never troubled
+him until that moment. The mysterious influences under which the girl’s
+development was advancing were working morally and physically together.
+Weeks might pass harmlessly, months might pass harmlessly--but the time
+must come when the innocent relations between them would be beset
+by peril. Unable, as yet, fully to realize these truths, Amelius
+nevertheless felt them vaguely. His face was troubled, as he lit the
+candle at last to go to his bed. “I don’t see my way as clearly as I
+could wish,” he reflected. “How will it end?”
+
+How indeed!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 4
+
+At eight o’clock the next morning, Amelius was awakened by Toff. A
+letter had arrived, marked “Immediate,” and the messenger was waiting
+for an answer.
+
+The letter was from Mrs. Payson. She wrote briefly, and in formal terms.
+After referring to the matron’s fruitless visit to the cottage on the
+previous night, Mrs. Payson proceeded in these words:--“I request you
+will immediately let me know whether Sally has taken refuge with you,
+and has passed the night under your roof. If I am right in believing
+that she has done so, I have only to inform you that the doors of the
+Home are henceforth closed to her, in conformity with our rules. If I am
+wrong, it will be my painful duty to lose no time in placing the matter
+in the hands of the police.”
+
+Amelius began his reply, acting on impulse as usual. He wrote,
+vehemently remonstrating with Mrs. Payson on the unforgiving and
+unchristian nature of the rules at the Home. Before he was halfway
+through his composition, the person who had brought the letter sent a
+message to say that he was expected back immediately, and that he hoped
+Mr. Goldenheart would not get a poor man into trouble by keeping him
+much longer. Checked in the full flow of his eloquence, Amelius angrily
+tore up the unfinished remonstrance, and matched Mrs. Payson’s briefly
+business-like language by an answer in one line:--“I beg to inform you
+that you are quite right.” On reflection, he felt that the second letter
+was not only discourteous as a reply to a lady, but also ungrateful
+as addressed to Mrs. Payson personally. At the third attempt, he wrote
+becomingly as well as briefly. “Sally has passed the night here, as my
+guest. She was suffering from severe fatigue; it would have been an act
+of downright inhumanity to send her away. I regret your decision, but
+of course I submit to it. You once said, you believed implicitly in
+the purity of my motives. Do me the justice, however you may blame my
+conduct, to believe in me still.”
+
+Having despatched these lines, the mind of Amelius was at ease again,
+He went into the library, and listened to hear if Sally was moving.
+The perfect silence on the other side of the door informed him that the
+weary girl was still fast asleep. He gave directions that she was on no
+account to be disturbed, and sat down to breakfast by himself.
+
+While he was still at table, Toff appeared, with profound mystery in
+his manner, and discreet confidence in the tones of his voice. “Here’s
+another one, sir!” the Frenchman announced, in his master’s ear.
+
+“Another one?” Amelius repeated. “What do you mean?”
+
+“She is not like the sweet little sleeping Miss.” Toff explained. “This
+time, sir, it’s the beauty of the devil himself, as we say in France.
+She refuses to confide in me; and she appears to be agitated--both bad
+signs. Shall I get rid of her before the other Miss wakes?”
+
+“Hasn’t she got a name?” Amelius asked.
+
+Toff answered, in his foreign accent, “One name only--Faybay.”
+
+“Do you mean Phoebe?”
+
+“Have I not said it, sir?”
+
+“Show her in directly.”
+
+Toff glanced at the door of Sally’s room, shrugged his shoulders, and
+obeyed his instructions.
+
+Phoebe appeared, looking pale and anxious. Her customary assurance of
+manner had completely deserted her: she stopped in the doorway, as if
+she was afraid to enter the room.
+
+“Come in, and sit down,” said Amelius. “What’s the matter?”
+
+“I’m troubled in my mind, sir,” Phoebe answered. “I know it’s taking
+a liberty to come to you. But I went yesterday to ask Miss Regina’s
+advice, and found she had gone abroad with her uncle. I have something
+to say about Mrs. Farnaby, sir; and there’s no time to be lost in saying
+it. I know of nobody but you that I can speak to, now Miss Regina is
+away. The footman told me where you lived.”
+
+She stopped, evidently in the greatest embarrassment. Amelius tried to
+encourage her. “If I can be of any use to Mrs. Farnaby,” he said, “tell
+me at once what to do.”
+
+Phoebe’s eyes dropped before his straightforward look as he spoke to
+her.
+
+“I must ask you to please excuse my mentioning names, sir,” she resumed
+confusedly. “There’s a person I’m interested in, whom I wouldn’t get
+into trouble for the whole world. He’s been misled--I’m sure he’s been
+misled by another person--a wicked drunken old woman, who ought to be
+in prison if she had her deserts. I’m not free from blame myself--I know
+I’m not. I listened, sir, to what I oughtn’t to have heard; and I told
+it again (I’m sure in the strictest confidence, and not meaning anything
+wrong) to the person I’ve mentioned. Not the old women--I mean the
+person I’m interested in. I hope you understand me, sir? I wish to speak
+openly, excepting the names, on account of Mrs. Farnaby.”
+
+Amelius thought of Phoebe’s vindictive language the last time he had
+seen her. He looked towards a cabinet in a corner of the room, in which
+he had placed Mrs. Farnaby’s letter. An instinctive distrust of his
+visitor began to rise in his mind. His manner altered--he turned to his
+plate, and went on with his breakfast. “Can’t you speak to me plainly?”
+ he said. “Is Mrs. Farnaby in any trouble?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“And can I do anything to help her out of it?”
+
+“I am sure you can, sir--if you only know where to find her.”
+
+“I do know where to find her. She has written to tell me. The last time
+I saw you, you expressed yourself very improperly about Mrs. Farnaby;
+you spoke as if you meant some harm to her.”
+
+“I mean nothing but good to her now, sir.”
+
+“Very well, then. Can’t you go and speak to her yourself, if I give you
+the address?”
+
+Phoebe’s pale face flushed a little. “I couldn’t do that, sir,” she
+answered, “after the way Mrs. Farnaby has treated me. Besides, if she
+knew that I had listened to what passed between her and you--” She
+stopped again, more painfully embarrassed than ever.
+
+Amelius laid down his knife and fork. “Look here!” he said; “this sort
+of thing is not in my way. If you can’t make a clean breast of it, let’s
+talk of something else. I’m very much afraid,” he went on, with his
+customary absence of all concealment, “you’re not the harmless sort of
+girl I once took you for. What do you mean by ‘what passed between Mrs.
+Farnaby and me’?”
+
+Phoebe put her handkerchief to her eyes. “It’s very hard to speak to me
+so harshly,” she said, “when I’m sorry for what I’ve done, and am only
+anxious to prevent harm coming of it.”
+
+_“What_ have you done?” cried honest Amelius, weary of the woman’s
+inveterately indirect way of explaining herself to him.
+
+The flash of his quick temper in his eyes, as he put that
+straightforward question, roused a responsive temper in Phoebe which
+stung her into speaking openly at last. She told Amelius what she had
+heard in the kitchen as plainly as she had told it to Jervy--with this
+one difference, that she spoke without insolence when she referred to
+Mrs. Farnaby.
+
+Listening in silence until she had done, Amelius started to his feet,
+and opening the cabinet, took from it Mrs. Farnaby’s letter. He read the
+letter, keeping his back towards Phoebe--waited a moment thinking--and
+suddenly turned on the woman with a look that made her shrink in her
+chair. “You wretch!” he said; “you detestable wretch!”
+
+In the terror of the moment, Phoebe attempted to leave the room. Amelius
+stopped her instantly. “Sit down again,” he said; “I mean to have the
+whole truth out of you, now.”
+
+Phoebe recovered her courage. “You have had the whole truth, sir; I
+could tell you no more if I was on my deathbed.”
+
+Amelius refused to believe her. “There is a vile conspiracy against Mrs.
+Farnaby,” he said. “Do you mean to tell me you are not in it?”
+
+“So help me God, sir, I never even heard of it till yesterday!”
+
+The tone in which she spoke shook the conviction of Amelius; the
+indescribable ring of truth was in it.
+
+“There are two people who are cruelly deluding and plundering this poor
+lady,” he went on. “Who are they?”
+
+“I told you, if you remember, that I couldn’t mention names, sir.”
+
+Amelius looked again at the letter. After what he had heard, there was
+no difficulty in identifying the invisible “young man,” alluded to by
+Mrs. Farnaby, with the unnamed “person” in whom Phoebe was interested.
+Who was he? As the question passed through his mind, Amelius remembered
+the vagabond whom he had recognized with Phoebe, in the street. There
+was no doubt of it now--the man who was directing the conspiracy in the
+dark was Jervy! Amelius would unquestionably have been rash enough
+to reveal this discovery, if Phoebe had not stopped him. His renewed
+reference to Mrs. Farnaby’s letter and his sudden silence after looking
+at it roused the woman’s suspicions. “If you’re planning to get my
+friend into trouble,” she burst out, “not another word shall pass my
+lips!”
+
+Even Amelius profited by the warning which that threat unintentionally
+conveyed to him.
+
+“Keep your own secrets,” he said; “I only want to spare Mrs. Farnaby a
+dreadful disappointment. But I must know what I am talking about when I
+go to her. Can’t you tell me how you found out this abominable swindle?”
+
+Phoebe was perfectly willing to tell him. Interpreting her long involved
+narrative into plain English, with the names added, these were the
+facts related:--Mrs. Sowler, bearing in mind some talk which had
+passed between them on the occasion of a supper, had called at
+Phoebe’s lodgings on the previous day, and had tried to entrap her into
+communicating what she knew of Mrs. Farnaby’s secrets. The trap failing,
+Mrs. Sowler had tried bribery next; had promised Phoebe a large sum of
+money, to be equally divided between them, if she would only speak; had
+declared that Jervy was perfectly capable of breaking his promise of
+marriage, and “leaving them both in the lurch, if he once got the money
+into his own pocket” and had thus informed Phoebe, that the conspiracy,
+which she supposed to have been abandoned, was really in full progress,
+without her knowledge. She had temporised with Mrs. Sowler, being afraid
+to set such a person openly at defiance; and had hurried away at once,
+to have an explanation with Jervy. He was reported to be “not at home.”
+ Her fruitless visit to Regina had followed--and there, so far as facts
+were concerned, was an end of the story.
+
+Amelius asked her no questions, and spoke as briefly as possible when
+she had done. “I will go to Mrs. Farnaby this morning,” was all he said.
+
+“Would you please let me hear how it ends?” Phoebe asked.
+
+Amelius pushed his pocket-book and pencil across the table to her,
+pointing to a blank leaf on which she could write her address. While
+she was thus employed the attentive Toff came in, and (with his eye on
+Phoebe) whispered in his master’s ear. He had heard Sally moving about.
+Would it be more convenient, under the circumstances, if she had her
+breakfast in her own room? Toff’s astonishment was a sight to see when
+Amelius answered, “Certainly not. Let her breakfast here.”
+
+Phoebe rose to go. Her parting words revealed the double-sided nature
+that was in her; the good and evil in perpetual conflict which should be
+uppermost.
+
+“Please don’t mention me, sir, to Mrs. Farnaby,” she said. “I don’t
+forgive her for what she’s done to me; I don’t say I won’t be even with
+her yet. But not in _that_ way! I won’t have her death laid at my door.
+Oh, but I know her temper--and I say it’s as likely as not to kill her
+or drive her mad, if she isn’t warned about it in time. Never mind her
+losing her money. If it’s lost, it’s lost, and she’s got plenty more.
+She may be robbed a dozen times over for all I care. But don’t let her
+set her heart on seeing her child, and then find it’s all a swindle. I
+hate her; but I can’t and won’t, let _that_ go on. Good-morning, sir.”
+
+Amelius was relieved by her departure. For a minute or two, he sat
+absently stirring his coffee, and considering how he might most safely
+perform the terrible duty of putting Mrs. Farnaby on her guard.
+Toff interrupted his meditations by preparing the table for Sally’s
+breakfast; and, almost at the same moment, Sally herself, fresh and
+rosy, opened her door a little way, and looked in.
+
+“You have had a fine long sleep,” said Amelius. “Have you quite got over
+your walk yesterday?”
+
+“Oh yes,” she answered gaily; “I only feel my long walk now in my feet.
+It hurts me to put my boots on. Can you lend me a pair of slippers?”
+
+“A pair of my slippers? Why, Sally, you would be lost in them! What’s
+the matter with your feet?”
+
+“They’re both sore. And I think one of them has got a blister on it.”
+
+“Come in, and let’s have a look at it?”
+
+She came limping in, with her feet bare. “Don’t scold me,” she pleaded,
+“I couldn’t put my stockings on again, without washing them; and they’re
+not dry yet.”
+
+“I’ll get you new stockings and slippers,” said Amelius. “Which is the
+foot with the blister?”
+
+“The left foot,” she answered, pointing to it.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 5
+
+“Let me see the blister,” said Amelius.
+
+Sally looked longingly at the fire.
+
+“May I warm my feet first?” she asked; “they are so cold.”
+
+In those words she innocently deferred the discovery which, if it had
+been made at the moment, might have altered the whole after-course of
+events. Amelius only thought now of preventing her from catching cold.
+He sent Toff for a pair of the warmest socks that he possessed, and
+asked if he should put them on for her. She smiled, and shook her head,
+and put them on for herself.
+
+When they had done laughing at the absurd appearance of the little feet
+in the large socks, they only drifted farther and farther away from the
+subject of the blistered foot. Sally remembered the terrible matron, and
+asked if anything had been heard of her that morning. Being told that
+Mrs. Payson had written, and that the doors of the institution were
+closed to her, she recovered her spirits, and began to wonder whether
+the offended authorities would let her have her clothes. Toff offered
+to go and make the inquiry, later in the day; suggesting the purchase
+of slippers and stockings, in the mean time, while Sally was having her
+breakfast. Amelius approved of the suggestion; and Toff set off on his
+errand, with one of Sally’s boots for a pattern.
+
+The morning had, by that time, advanced to ten o’clock.
+
+Amelius stood before the fire talking, while Sally had her breakfast.
+Having first explained the reasons which made it impossible that she
+should live at the cottage in the capacity of his servant, he astonished
+her by announcing that he meant to undertake the superintendence of her
+education himself. They were to be master and pupil, while the lessons
+were in progress; and brother and sister at other times--and they were
+to see how they got on together, on this plan, without indulging in
+any needless anxiety about the future. Amelius believed with perfect
+sincerity that he had hit on the only sensible arrangement, under the
+circumstances; and Sally cried joyously, “Oh, how good you are to me;
+the happy life has come at last!” At the hour when those words passed
+the daughter’s lips, the discovery of the conspiracy burst upon the
+mother in all its baseness and in all its horror.
+
+The suspicion of her infamous employer, which had induced Mrs. Sowler to
+attempt to intrude herself into Phoebe’s confidence, led her to make a
+visit of investigation at Jervy’s lodgings later in the day. Informed,
+as Phoebe had been informed, that he was not at home, she called again
+some hours afterwards. By that time, the landlord had discovered that
+Jervy’s luggage had been secretly conveyed away, and that his tenant had
+left him, in debt for rent of the two best rooms in the house.
+
+No longer in any doubt of what had happened, Mrs. Sowler employed the
+remaining hours of the evening in making inquiries after the missing
+man. Not a trace of him had been discovered up to eight o’clock on the
+next morning.
+
+Shortly after nine o’clock--that is to say, towards the hour at which
+Phoebe paid her visit to Amelius--Mrs. Sowler, resolute to know the
+worst, made her appearance at the apartments occupied by Mrs. Farnaby.
+
+“I wish to speak to you,” she began abruptly, “about that young man we
+both know of. Have you seen anything of him lately?”
+
+Mrs. Farnaby, steadily on her guard, deferred answering the question.
+“Why do you want to know?” she said.
+
+The reply was instantly ready. “Because I have reason to believe he has
+bolted, with your money in his pocket.”
+
+“He has done nothing of the sort,” Mrs. Farnaby rejoined.
+
+“Has he got your money?” Mrs. Sowler persisted. “Tell me the truth--and
+I’ll do the same by you. He has cheated me. If you’re cheated too, it’s
+your own interest to lose no time in finding him. The police may catch
+him yet. _Has_ he got your money?”
+
+The woman was in earnest--in terrible earnest--her eyes and her voice
+both bore witness to it. She stood there, the living impersonation of
+those doubts and fears which Mrs. Farnaby had confessed, in writing to
+Amelius. Her position, at that moment, was essentially a position of
+command. Mrs. Farnaby felt it in spite of herself. She acknowledged that
+Jervy had got the money.
+
+“Did you sent it to him, or give it to him?” Mrs. Sowler asked.
+
+“I gave it to him.”
+
+“When?”
+
+“Yesterday evening.”
+
+Mrs. Sowler clenched her fists, and shook them in impotent rage. “He’s
+the biggest scoundrel living,” she exclaimed furiously; “and you’re the
+biggest fool! Put on your bonnet and come to the police. If you get your
+money back again before he’s spent it all, don’t forget it was through
+me.”
+
+The audacity of the woman’s language roused Mrs. Farnaby. She pointed to
+the door. “You are an insolent creature,” she said; “I have nothing more
+to do with you.”
+
+“You have nothing more to do with me?” Mrs. Sowler repeated. “You and
+the young man have settled it all between you, I suppose.” She laughed
+scornfully. “I dare say now you expect to see him again?”
+
+Mrs. Farnaby was irritated into answering this. “I expect to see him
+this morning,” she said, “at ten o’clock.”
+
+“And the lost young lady with him?”
+
+“Say nothing about my lost daughter! I won’t even hear you speak of
+her.”
+
+Mrs. Sowler sat down. “Look at your watch,” she said. “It must be nigh
+on ten o’clock by this time. You’ll make a disturbance in the house if
+you try to turn me out. I mean to wait here till ten o’clock.”
+
+On the point of answering angrily, Mrs. Farnaby restrained herself. “You
+are trying to force a quarrel on me,” she said; “you shan’t spoil the
+happiest morning of my life. Wait here by yourself.”
+
+She opened the door that led into her bedchamber, and shut herself in.
+Perfectly impenetrable to any repulse that could be offered to her, Mrs.
+Sowler looked at the closed door with a sardonic smile, and waited.
+
+The clock in the hall struck ten. Mrs. Farnaby returned again to the
+sitting-room, walked straight to the window, and looked out.
+
+“Any sign of him?” said Mrs. Sowler.
+
+There were no signs of him. Mrs. Farnaby drew a chair to the window,
+and sat down. Her hands turned icy cold. She still looked out into the
+street.
+
+“I’m going to guess what’s happened,” Mrs. Sowler resumed. “I’m a
+sociable creature, you know, and I must talk about something. About the
+money, now? Has the young man had his travelling expenses of you? To go
+to foreign parts, and bring your girl back with him, eh? I expect that’s
+how it was. You see, I know him so well. And what happened, if you
+please, yesterday evening? Did he tell you he’d brought her back, and
+got her at his own place? And did he say he wouldn’t let you see her
+till you paid him his reward as well as his travelling expenses? And
+did you forget my warning to you not to trust him? I’m a good one at
+guessing when I try. I see you think so yourself. Any signs of him yet?”
+
+Mrs. Farnaby looked round from the window. Her manner was completely
+changed; she was nervously civil to the wretch who was torturing her. “I
+beg your pardon, ma’am, if I have offended you,” she said faintly. “I am
+a little upset--I am so anxious about my poor child. Perhaps you are a
+mother yourself? You oughtn’t to frighten me; you ought to feel for
+me.” She paused, and put her hand to her head. “He told me yesterday
+evening,” she went on slowly and vacantly, “that my poor darling was
+at his lodgings; he said she was so worn out with the long journey from
+abroad, that she must have a night’s rest before she could come to me.
+I asked him to tell me where he lived, and let me go to her. He said she
+was asleep and must not be disturbed. I promised to go in on tiptoe, and
+only look at her; I offered him more money, double the money to tell
+me where she was. He was very hard on me. He only said, wait till ten
+tomorrow morning--and wished me goodnight. I ran out to follow him, and
+fell on the stairs, and hurt myself. The people of the house were very
+kind to me.” She turned her head back towards the window, and looked
+out into the street again. “I must be patient,” she said; “he’s only a
+little late.”
+
+Mrs. Sowler rose, and tapped her smartly on the shoulder. “Lies!” she
+burst out. “He knows no more where your daughter is than I do--and he’s
+off with your money!”
+
+The woman’s hateful touch struck out a spark of the old fire in Mrs.
+Farnaby. Her natural force of character asserted itself once more.
+_“You_ lie!” she rejoined. “Leave the room!”
+
+The door was opened, while she spoke. A respectable woman-servant came
+in with a letter. Mrs. Farnaby took it mechanically, and looked at the
+address. Jervy’s feigned handwriting was familiar to her. In the
+instant when she recognized it, the life seemed to go out of her like
+an extinguished light. She stood pale and still and silent, with the
+unopened letter in her hand.
+
+Watching her with malicious curiosity, Mrs. Sowler coolly possessed
+herself of the letter, looked at it, and recognized the writing in her
+turn. “Stop!” she cried, as the servant was on the point of going
+out. “There’s no stamp on this letter. Was it brought by hand? Is the
+messenger waiting?”
+
+The respectable servant showed her opinion of Mrs. Sowler plainly in her
+face. She replied as briefly and as ungraciously as possible:--“No.”
+
+“Man or woman?” was the next question.
+
+“Am I to answer this person, ma’am?” said the servant, looking at Mrs.
+Farnaby.
+
+“Answer me instantly,” Mrs. Sowler interposed--“in Mrs. Farnaby’s own
+interests. Don’t you see she can’t speak to you herself?”
+
+“Well, then,” said the servant, “it was a man.”
+
+“A man with a squint?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Which way did he go?”
+
+“Towards the square.”
+
+Mrs. Sowler tossed the letter on the table, and hurried out of the room.
+The servant approached Mrs. Farnaby. “You haven’t opened your letter
+yet, ma’am,” she said.
+
+“No,” said Mrs. Farnaby vacantly, “I haven’t opened it yet.”
+
+“I’m afraid it’s bad news, ma’am?”
+
+“Yes. I think it’s bad news.”
+
+“Is there anything I can do for you?”
+
+“No, thank you. Yes; one thing. Open my letter for me, please.”
+
+It was a strange request to make. The servant wondered, and obeyed. She
+was a kind-hearted woman; she really felt for the poor lady. But
+the familiar household devil, whose name is Curiosity, and whose
+opportunities are innumerable, prompted her next words when she had
+taken the letter out of the envelope:--“Shall I read it to you, ma’am?”
+
+“No. Put it down on the table, please. I’ll ring when I want you.”
+
+The mother was alone--alone, with her death-warrant waiting for her on
+the table.
+
+The clock downstairs struck the half hour after ten. She moved, for the
+first time since she had received the letter. Once more she went to the
+window, and looked out. It was only for a moment. She turned away again,
+with a sudden contempt for herself. “What a fool I am!” she said--and
+took up the open letter.
+
+She looked at it, and put it down again. “Why should I read it,” she
+asked herself, “when I know what is in it, without reading?”
+
+Some framed woodcuts from the illustrated newspapers were hung on the
+walls. One of them represented a scene of rescue from shipwreck. A
+mother embracing her daughter, saved by the lifeboat, was among the
+foreground groups. The print was entitled, “The Mercy of Providence.”
+ Mrs. Farnaby looked at it with a moment’s steady attention. “Providence
+has its favourites,” she said; “I am not one of them.”
+
+After thinking a little, she went into her bedroom, and took two papers
+out of her dressing-case. They were medical prescriptions.
+
+She turned next to the chimneypiece. Two medicine-bottles were placed
+on it. She took one of them down--a bottle of the ordinary size, known
+among chemists as a six-ounce bottle. It contained a colourless liquid.
+The label stated the dose to be “two table-spoonfuls,” and bore, as
+usual, a number corresponding with a number placed on the prescription.
+She took up the prescription. It was a mixture of bi-carbonate of soda
+and prussic acid, intended for the relief of indigestion. She looked at
+the date, and was at once reminded of one of the very rare occasions on
+which she had required the services of a medical man. There had been a
+serious accident at a dinner-party, given by some friends. She had eaten
+sparingly of a certain dish, from which some of the other guests had
+suffered severely. It was discovered that the food had been cooked in
+an old copper saucepan. In her case, the trifling result had been a
+disturbance of digestion, and nothing more. The doctor had prescribed
+accordingly. She had taken but one dose: with her healthy constitution
+she despised physic. The remainder of the mixture was still in the
+bottle.
+
+She considered again with herself--then went back to the chimneypiece,
+and took down the second bottle.
+
+It contained a colourless liquid also; but it was only half the size of
+the first bottle, and not a drop had been taken. She waited, observing
+the difference between the two bottles with extraordinary attention. In
+this case also, the prescription was in her possession--but it was not
+the original. A line at the top stated that it was a copy made by the
+chemist, at the request of a customer. It bore the date of more than
+three years since. A morsel of paper was pinned to the prescription,
+containing some lines in a woman’s handwriting:--“With your enviable
+health and strength, my dear, I should have thought you were the last
+person in the world to want a tonic. However, here is my prescription,
+if you must have it. Be very careful to take the right dose, because
+there’s poison in it.” The prescription contained three ingredients,
+strychnine, quinine, and nitro-hydrochloric acid; and the dose was
+fifteen drops in water. Mrs. Farnaby lit a match, and burnt the lines of
+her friend’s writing. “As long ago as that,” she reflected, “I thought
+of killing myself. Why didn’t I do it?”
+
+The paper having been destroyed, she put back the prescription for
+indigestion in her dressing-case; hesitated for a moment; and opened the
+bedroom window. It looked into a lonely little courtyard. She threw
+the dangerous contents of the second and smaller bottle out into the
+yard--and then put it back empty on the chimneypiece. After another
+moment of hesitation, she returned to the sitting-room, with the bottle
+of mixture, and the copied prescription for the tonic strychnine drops,
+in her hand.
+
+She put the bottle on the table, and advanced to the fireplace to ring
+the bell. Warm as the room was, she began to shiver. Did the eager life
+in her feel the fatal purpose that she was meditating, and shrink from
+it? Instead of ringing the bell, she bent over the fire, trying to warm
+herself.
+
+“Other women would get relief in crying,” she thought. “I wish I was
+like other women!”
+
+The whole sad truth about herself was in that melancholy aspiration. No
+relief in tears, no merciful oblivion in a fainting-fit, for _her._
+The terrible strength of the vital organization in this woman knew no
+yielding to the unutterable misery that wrung her to the soul. It roused
+its glorious forces to resist: it held her in a stony quiet, with a grip
+of iron.
+
+She turned away from the fire wondering at herself. “What baseness is
+there in me that fears death? What have I got to live for _now?”_
+The open letter on the table caught her eye. “This will do it!” she
+said--and snatched it up, and read it at last.
+
+“The least I can do for you is to act like a gentleman, and spare you
+unnecessary suspense. You will not see me this morning at ten, for the
+simple reason that I really don’t know, and never did know, where to
+find your daughter. I wish I was rich enough to return the money. Not
+being able to do that, I will give you a word of advice instead. The
+next time you confide any secrets of yours to Mr. Goldenheart, take
+better care that no third person hears you.”
+
+She read those atrocious lines, without any visible disturbance of
+the dreadful composure that possessed her. Her mind made no effort to
+discover the person who had listened and betrayed her. To all ordinary
+curiosities, to all ordinary emotions, she was morally dead already.
+
+The one thought in her was a thought that might have occurred to a man.
+“If I only had my hands on his throat, how I could wring the life out
+of him! As it is--” Instead of pursuing the reflection, she threw the
+letter into the fire, and rang the bell.
+
+“Take this at once to the nearest chemist’s,” she said, giving the
+strychnine prescription to the servant; “and wait, please, and bring it
+back with you.”
+
+She opened her desk, when she was alone, and tore up the letters and
+papers in it. This done, she took her pen, and wrote a letter. It was
+addressed to Amelius.
+
+When the servant entered the room again, bringing with her the
+prescription made up, the clock downstairs struck eleven.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 6
+
+Toff returned to the cottage, with the slippers and the stockings.
+
+“What a time you have been gone!” said Amelius.
+
+“It is not my fault, sir,” Toff explained. “The stockings I obtained
+without difficulty. But the nearest shoe shop in this neighbourhood sold
+only coarse manufactures, and all too large. I had to go to my wife, and
+get her to take me to the right place. See!” he exclaimed, producing
+a pair of quilted silk slippers with blue rosettes, “here is a design,
+that is really worthy of pretty feet. Try them on, Miss.”
+
+Sally’s eyes sparkled at the sight of the slippers. She rose at once,
+and limped away to her room. Amelius, observing that she still walked in
+pain, called her back. “I had forgotten the blister,” he said. “Before
+you put on the new stockings, Sally, let me see your foot.” He turned
+to Toff. “You’re always ready with everything,” he went on; “I wonder
+whether you have got a needle and a bit of worsted thread?”
+
+The old Frenchman answered, with an air of respectful reproach. “Knowing
+me, sir, as you do,” he said, “could you doubt for a moment that I mend
+my own clothes and darn my own stockings?” He withdrew to his bedroom
+below, and returned with a leather roll. “When you are ready, sir?” he
+said, opening the roll at the table, and threading the needle, while
+Sally removed the sock from her left foot.
+
+She took a chair near the window, at the suggestion of Amelius. He knelt
+down so as to raise her foot to his knee. “Turn a little more towards
+the light,” he said. He took the foot in his hand, lifted it, looked at
+it--and suddenly let it drop back on the floor.
+
+A cry of alarm from Sally instantly brought Toff to the window. “Oh,
+look!” she cried; “he’s ill!” Toff lifted Amelius to a chair. “For God’s
+sake, sir,” cried the terrified old man, “what’s the matter?” Amelius
+had turned to the strange ashy paleness which is only seen in men of his
+florid complexion, overwhelmed by sudden emotion. He stammered when
+he tried to speak. “Fetch the brandy!” said Toff, pointing to the
+liqueur-case on the sideboard. Sally brought it at once; the strong
+stimulant steadied Amelius.
+
+“I’m sorry to have frightened you,” he said faintly. “Sally!--Dear, dear
+little Sally, go in, and get your things on directly. You must come out
+with me; I’ll tell you why afterwards. My God! why didn’t I find this
+out before?” He noticed Toff, wondering and trembling. “Good old fellow!
+don’t alarm yourself--you shall know about it, too. Go! run! get the
+first cab you can find!”
+
+Left alone for a few minutes, he had time to compose himself. He did his
+best to take advantage of the time; he tried to prepare his mind for the
+coming interview with Mrs. Farnaby. “I must be careful of what I do,”
+ he thought, conscious of the overwhelming effect of the discovery on
+himself; “She doesn’t expect _me_ to bring her daughter to her.”
+
+Sally returned to him, ready to go out. She seemed to be afraid of him,
+when he approached her, and took her hand. “Have I done anything wrong?”
+ she asked, in her childish way. “Are you going to take me to some other
+Home?” The tone and look with which she put the question burst through
+the restraints which Amelius had imposed on himself for her sake. “My
+dear child!” he said, “can you bear a great surprise? I’m dying to tell
+you the truth--and I hardly dare do it.” He took her in his arms.
+She trembled piteously. Instead of answering him, she reiterated her
+question, “Are you going to take me to some other Home?” He could endure
+it no longer. “This is the happiest day of your life, Sally!” he cried;
+“I am going to take you to your mother.”
+
+He held her close to him, and looked at her in dread of having spoken
+too plainly.
+
+She slowly lifted her eyes to him in vacant fear and surprise; she burst
+into no expression of delight; no overwhelming emotion made her sink
+fainting in his arms. The sacred associations which gather round the
+mere name of Mother were associations unknown to her; the man who held
+her to him so tenderly, the hero who had pitied and saved her, was
+father and mother both to her simple mind. She dropped her head on
+his breast; her faltering voice told him that she was crying. “Will my
+mother take me away from you?” she asked. “Oh, do promise to bring me
+back with you to the cottage!”
+
+For the moment, and the moment only, Amelius was disappointed in her.
+The generous sympathies in his nature guided him unerringly to the truer
+view. He remembered what her life had been. Inexpressible pity for her
+filled his heart. “Oh, my poor Sally, the time is coming when you will
+not think as you think now! I will do nothing to distress you. You
+mustn’t cry--you must be happy, and loving and true to your mother.” She
+dried her eyes, “I’ll do anything you tell me,” she said, “as long as
+you bring me back with you.”
+
+Amelius sighed, and said no more. He took her out with him gravely and
+silently, when the cab was announced to be ready. “Double your fare,” he
+said, when he gave the driver his instructions, “if you get there in a
+quarter of an hour.” It wanted twenty-five minutes to twelve when the
+cab left the cottage.
+
+At that moment, the contrast of feeling between the two could hardly
+have been more strongly marked. In proportion as Amelius became more and
+more agitated, so Sally recovered the composure and confidence that she
+had lost. The first question she put to him related, not to her mother,
+but to his strange behaviour when he had knelt down to look at her foot.
+He answered, explaining to her briefly and plainly what his conduct
+meant. The description of what had passed between her mother and Amelius
+interested and yet perplexed her. “How can she be so fond of me, without
+knowing anything about me for all those years?” she asked. “Is my mother
+a lady? Don’t tell her where you found me; she might be ashamed of
+me.” She paused, and looked at Amelius anxiously. “Are you vexed about
+something? May I take hold of your hand?” Amelius gave her his hand; and
+Sally was satisfied.
+
+As the cab drew up at the house, the door was opened from within. A
+gentleman, dressed in black, hurriedly came out; looked at Amelius; and
+spoke to him as he stepped from the cab to the pavement.
+
+“I beg your pardon, sir. May I ask if you are any relative of the lady
+who lives in this house?”
+
+“No relative,” Amelius answered. “Only a friend, who brings good news to
+her.”
+
+The stranger’s grave face suddenly became compassionate as well as
+grave. “I must speak with you before you go upstairs,” he said, lowering
+his voice as he looked at Sally, still seated in the cab. “You will
+perhaps excuse the liberty I am taking, when I tell you that I am a
+medical man. Come into the hall for a moment--and don’t bring the young
+lady with you.”
+
+Amelius told Sally to wait in the cab. She saw his altered looks, and
+entreated him not to leave her. He promised to keep the house door open
+so that she could see him while he was away from her, and hastened into
+the hall.
+
+“I am sorry to say I have bad, very bad, news for you,” the doctor
+began. “Time is of serious importance--I must speak plainly. You have
+heard of mistakes made by taking the wrong bottle of medicine? The poor
+lady upstairs is, I fear, in a dying state, from an accident of that
+sort. Try to compose yourself. You may really be of use to me, if you
+are firm enough to take my place while I am away.”
+
+Amelius steadied himself instantly. “What I can do, I will do,” he
+answered.
+
+The doctor looked at him. “I believe you,” he said. “Now listen. In this
+case, a dose limited to fifteen drops has been confounded with a dose
+of two table-spoonsful; and the drug taken by mistake is strychnine. One
+grain of the poison has been known to prove fatal--she has taken three.
+The convulsion fits have begun. Antidotes are out of the question--the
+poor creature can swallow nothing. I have heard of opium as a possible
+means of relief; and I am going to get the instrument for injecting it
+under the skin. Not that I have much belief in the remedy; but I must
+try something. Have you courage enough to hold her, if another of the
+convulsions comes on in my absence?”
+
+“Will it relieve her, if I hold her?” Amelius, asked.
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“Then I promise to do it.”
+
+“Mind! you must do it thoroughly. There are only two women upstairs;
+both perfectly useless in this emergency. If she shrieks to you to be
+held, exert your strength--take her with a firm grasp. If you only touch
+her (I can’t explain it, but it is so), you will make matters worse.”
+
+The servant ran downstairs, while he was speaking. “Don’t leave us,
+sir--I’m afraid it’s coming on again.”
+
+“This gentleman will help you, while I am away,” said the doctor. “One
+word more,” he went on, addressing Amelius. “In the intervals between
+the fits, she is perfectly conscious; able to listen, and even to speak.
+If she has any last wishes to communicate, make good use of the time.
+She may die of exhaustion, at any moment. I will be back directly.”
+
+He hurried to the door.
+
+“Take my cab,” said Amelius, “and save time.”
+
+“But the young lady--”
+
+“Leave her to me.” He opened the cab door, and gave his hand to Sally.
+It was done in a moment. The doctor drove off.
+
+Amelius saw the servant waiting for them in the hall. He spoke to Sally,
+telling her, considerately and gently, what he had heard, before he took
+her into the house. “I had such good hopes for you,” he said; “and it
+has come to this dreadful end! Have you courage to go through with it,
+if I take you to her bedside? You will be glad one day, my dear, to
+remember that you cheered your mother’s last moments on earth.”
+
+Sally put her hand in his. “I will go anywhere,” she said softly, “with
+You.”
+
+Amelius led her into the house. The servant, in pity for her youth,
+ventured on a word of remonstrance. “Oh, sir, you’re not going to let
+the poor young lady see that dreadful sight upstairs!”
+
+“You mean well,” Amelius answered; “and I thank you. If you knew what I
+know, you would take her upstairs, too. Show the way.”
+
+Sally looked at him in silent awe as they followed the servant together.
+He was not like the same man. His brows were knit; his lips were
+fast set; he held the girl’s hand in a grip that hurt her. The latent
+strength of will in him--that reserved resolution, so finely and firmly
+entwined in the natures of sensitively organized men--was rousing itself
+to meet the coming trial. The doctor would have doubly believed in him,
+if the doctor had seen him at that moment.
+
+They reached the first-floor landing.
+
+Before the servant could open the drawing-room door, a shriek rang
+frightfully through the silence of the house. The servant drew back, and
+crouched trembling on the upper stairs. At the same moment, the door was
+flung open, and another woman ran out, wild with terror. “I can’t bear
+it!” she cried, and rushed up the stairs, blind to the presence
+of strangers in the panic that possessed her. Amelius entered the
+drawing-room, with his arm round Sally, holding her up. As he placed her
+in a chair, the dreadful cry was renewed. He only waited to rouse and
+encourage her by a word and a look--and ran into the bedroom.
+
+For an instant, and an instant only, he stood horror-struck in the
+presence of the poisoned woman.
+
+The fell action of the strychnine wrung every muscle in her with the
+torture of convulsion. Her hands were fast clenched; her head was bent
+back: her body, rigid as a bar of iron, was arched upwards from the bed,
+resting on the two extremities of the head and the heels: the staring
+eyes, the dusky face, the twisted lips, the clenched teeth, were
+frightful to see. He faced it. After the one instant of hesitation, he
+faced it.
+
+Before she could cry out again, his hands were on her. The whole
+exertion of his strength was barely enough to keep the frenzied throbs
+of the convulsion, as it reached its climax, from throwing her off the
+bed. Through the worst of it, he was still equal to the trust that
+had been placed in him, still faithful to the work of mercy. Little
+by little, he felt the lessening resistance of the rigid body, as the
+paroxysm began to subside. He saw the ghastly stare die out of her eyes,
+and the twisted lips relax from their dreadful grin. The tortured body
+sank, and rested; the perspiration broke out on her face; her languid
+hands fell gently over on the bed. For a while, the heavy eyelids
+closed--then opened again feebly. She looked at him. “Do you know
+me?” he asked, bending over her. And she answered in a faint whisper,
+“Amelius!”
+
+He knelt down by her, and kissed her hand. “Can you listen, if I tell
+you something?”
+
+She breathed heavily; her bosom heaved under the suffocating oppression
+that weighed upon it. As he took her in his arms to raise her in the
+bed, Sally’s voice reached him, in low imploring tones, from the next
+room. “Oh, let me come to you! I’m so frightened here by myself.”
+
+He waited, before he told her to come in, looking for a moment at the
+face that was resting on his breast. A gray shadow was stealing over it;
+a cold and clammy moisture struck a chill through him as he put his hand
+on her forehead. He turned towards the next room. The girl had ventured
+as far as the door; he beckoned to her. She came in timidly, and stood
+by him, and looked at her mother. Amelius signed to her to take his
+place. “Put your arms round her,” he whispered. “Oh, Sally, tell her who
+you are in a kiss!” The girl’s tears fell fast as she pressed her lips
+on her mother’s cheek. The dying woman looked at her, with a glance of
+helpless inquiry--then looked at Amelius. The doubt in her eyes was too
+dreadful to be endured. Arranging the pillows so that she could keep
+her raised position in the bed, he signed to Sally to approach him, and
+removed the slipper from her left foot. As he took it off, he looked
+again at the bed--looked and shuddered. In a moment more, it might be
+too late. With his knife he ripped up the stocking, and, lifting her
+on the bed, put her bare foot on her mother’s lap. “Your child! your
+child!” he cried; “I’ve found your own darling! For God’s sake, rouse
+yourself! Look!”
+
+She heard him. She lifted her feebly declining head. She looked. She
+knew.
+
+For one awful moment, the sinking vital forces rallied, and hurled
+back the hold of Death. Her eyes shone radiant with the divine light of
+maternal love; an exulting cry of rapture burst from her. Slowly, very
+slowly, she bent forward, until her face rested on her daughter’s foot.
+With a faint sigh of ecstasy she kissed it. The moments passed--and the
+bent head was raised no more. The last beat of the heart was a beat of
+joy.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK THE EIGHTH. DAME NATURE DECIDES
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 1
+
+The day which had united the mother and daughter, only to part them
+again in this world for ever, had advanced to evening.
+
+Amelius and Sally were together again in the cottage, sitting by the
+library fire. The silence in the room was uninterrupted. On the open
+desk, near Amelius, lay the letter which Mrs. Farnaby had written to him
+on the morning of her death.
+
+He had found the letter--with the envelope unfastened--on the floor of
+the bedchamber, and had fortunately secured it before the landlady and
+the servant had ventured back to the room. The doctor, returning a few
+minutes afterwards, had warned the two women that a coroner’s inquest
+would be held in the house, and had vainly cautioned them to be careful
+of what they said or did in the interval. Not only the subject of the
+death, but a discovery which had followed, revealing the name of the
+ill-fated woman marked on her linen, and showing that she had used an
+assumed name in taking the lodgings as Mrs. Ronald, became the gossip
+of the neighbourhood in a few hours. Under these circumstances, the
+catastrophe was made the subject of a paragraph in the evening journals;
+the name being added for the information of any surviving relatives
+who might be ignorant of the sad event. If the landlady had found the
+letter, that circumstance also would in all probability, have formed
+part of the statement in the newspapers, and the secret of Mrs.
+Farnaby’s life and death would have been revealed to the public view.
+
+“I can trust you, and you only,” she wrote to Amelius, “to fulfil the
+last wishes of a dying woman. You know me, and you know how I looked
+forward to the prospect of a happy life in retirement with my child. The
+one hope that I lived for has proved to be a cruel delusion. I have only
+this morning discovered, beyond the possibility of doubt, that I have
+been made the victim of wretches who have deliberately lied to me from
+first to last. If I had been a happier woman, I might have had other
+interests to sustain me under this frightful disaster. Such as I am,
+Death is my one refuge left.
+
+“My suicide will be known to no creature but yourself. Some years since,
+the idea of self destruction--concealed under the disguise of a common
+mistake--presented itself to my mind. I kept the means, very simple
+means, by me, thinking I might end in that way after all. When you read
+this I shall be at rest for ever. You will do what I have yet to ask of
+you, in merciful remembrance of me--I am sure of that.
+
+“You have a long life before you, Amelius. My foolish fancy about you
+and my lost girl still lingers in my mind; I still think it may be just
+possible that you may meet with her, in the course of years.
+
+“If this does happen, I implore you, by the tenderness and pity that
+you once felt for me, to tell no human creature that she is my daughter;
+and, if John Farnaby is living at the time, I forbid you, with the
+authority of a dying friend, to let her see him, or to let her know even
+that such a person exists. Are you at a loss to account for my motives?
+I may make the shameful confession which will enlighten you, now I know
+that we shall never meet again. My child was born before my marriage;
+and the man who afterwards became my husband--a man of low origin, I
+should tell you--was the father. He had calculated on this disgraceful
+circumstance to force my parents to make his fortune, by making me
+his wife. I now know, what I only vaguely suspected before, that he
+deliberately abandoned his child, as a likely cause of hindrance and
+scandal in the way of his prosperous career in life. Do you now think
+I am asking too much, when I entreat you never even to speak to my lost
+darling of this unnatural wretch? As for my own fair fame, I am not
+thinking of myself. With Death close at my side, I think of my poor
+mother, and of all that she suffered and sacrificed to save me from the
+disgrace that I had deserved. For her sake, not for mine, keep silence
+to friends and enemies alike if they ask you who my girl is--with the
+one exception of my lawyer. Years since, I left in his care the means of
+making a small provision for my child, on the chance that she might live
+to claim it. You can show him this letter as your authority, in case of
+need.
+
+“Try not to forget me, Amelius--but don’t grieve about me. I go to
+my death as you go to your sleep when you are tired. I leave you my
+grateful love--you have always been good to me. There is no more to
+write; I hear the servant returning from the chemist’s, bringing with
+her only release from the hard burden of life without hope. May you be
+happier than I have been! Goodbye!”
+
+So she parted from him for ever. But the fatal association of the
+unhappy woman’s sorrows with the life and fortune of Amelius was not at
+an end yet.
+
+He had neither hesitation nor misgiving in resolving to show a natural
+respect to the wishes of the dead. Now that the miserable story of the
+past had been unreservedly disclosed to him, he would have felt himself
+bound in honour, even without instructions to guide him, to keep the
+discovery of the daughter a secret, for the mother’s sake. With that
+conviction, he had read the distressing letter. With that conviction, he
+now rose to provide for the safe keeping of it under lock and key.
+
+
+Just as he had secured the letter in a private drawer of his desk, Toff
+came in with a card, and announced that a gentleman wished to see him.
+Amelius, looking at the card, was surprised to find on it the name of
+“Mr. Melton.” Some lines were written on it in pencil: “I have called
+to speak with you on a matter of serious importance.” Wondering what his
+middle-aged rival could want with him, Amelius instructed Toff to admit
+the visitor.
+
+Sally started to her feet, with her customary distrust of strangers.
+“May I run away before he comes in?” she asked. “If you like,” Amelius
+answered quietly. She ran to the door of her room, at the moment when
+Toff appeared again, announcing the visitor. Mr. Melton entered just
+before she disappeared: he saw the flutter of her dress as the door
+closed behind her.
+
+“I fear I am disturbing you?” he said, looking hard at the door.
+
+He was perfectly dressed: his hat and gloves were models of what such
+things ought to be; he was melancholy and courteous; blandly distrustful
+of the flying skirts which he had seen at the door. When Amelius offered
+him a chair, he took it with a mysterious sigh; mournfully resigned
+to the sad necessity of sitting down. “I won’t prolong my intrusion on
+you,” he resumed. “You have no doubt seen the melancholy news in the
+evening papers?”
+
+“I haven’t seen the evening papers,” Amelius answered; “what news do you
+mean?”
+
+Mr. Melton leaned back in his chair, and expressed emotions of sorrow
+and surprise, in a perfect state of training, by gently raising his
+smooth white hands.
+
+“Oh dear, dear! this is very sad. I had hoped to find you in full
+possession of the particulars--reconciled, as we must all be, to the
+inscrutable ways of Providence. Permit me to break it to you as gently
+as possible. I came here to inquire if you had heard yet from Miss
+Regina. Understand my motive! there must be no misapprehension between
+us on that subject. There is a very serious necessity--pray follow
+me carefully--I say, a very serious necessity for my communicating
+immediately with Miss Regina’s uncle; and I know of nobody who is so
+likely to hear from the travellers, so soon after their departure, as
+yourself. You are, in a certain sense, a member of the family--”
+
+“Stop a minute,” said Amelius.
+
+“I beg your pardon?” said Mr. Melton politely, at a loss to understand
+the interruption.
+
+“I didn’t at first know what you meant,” Amelius explained. “You put it,
+if you will forgive me for saying so, in rather a roundabout way. If you
+are alluding, all this time, to Mrs. Farnaby’s death, I must honestly
+tell you that I know of it already.”
+
+The bland self-possession of Mr. Melton’s face began to show signs
+of being ruffled. He had been in a manner deluded into exhibiting his
+conventionally fluent eloquence, in the choicest modulations of his
+sonorous voice--and it wounded his self esteem to be placed in his
+present position. “I understood you to say,” he remarked stiffly, “that
+you had not seen the evening newspapers.”
+
+“You are quite right,” Amelius rejoined; “I have not seen them.”
+
+“Then may I inquire,” Mr. Melton proceeded, “how you became informed of
+Mrs. Farnaby’s death?”
+
+Amelius replied with his customary frankness. “I went to call on the
+poor lady this morning,” he said, “knowing nothing of what had happened.
+I met the doctor at the door; and I was present at her death.”
+
+Even Mr. Melton’s carefully-trained composure was not proof against the
+revelation that now opened before him. He burst out with an exclamation
+of astonishment, like an ordinary man.
+
+“Good heavens, what does this mean!”
+
+Amelius took it as a question addressed to himself. “I’m sure I don’t
+know,” he said quietly.
+
+Mr. Melton, misunderstanding Amelius on his side, interpreted those
+innocent words as an outbreak of vulgar interruption. “Pardon me,”
+ he said coldly. “I was about to explain myself. You will presently
+understand my surprise. After seeing the evening paper, I went at once
+to make inquiries at the address mentioned. In Mr. Farnaby’s absence, I
+felt bound to do this as his old friend. I saw the landlady, and, with
+her assistance, the doctor also. Both these persons spoke of a gentleman
+who had called that morning, accompanied by a young lady; and who had
+insisted on taking the young lady upstairs with him. Until you mentioned
+just now that you were present at the death, I had no suspicion that you
+were ‘the gentleman’. Surprise on my part was, I think, only natural.
+I could hardly be expected to know that you were in Mrs. Farnaby’s
+confidence about the place of her retreat. And with regard to the young
+lady, I am still quite at a loss to understand--”
+
+“If you understand that the people at the house told you the truth, so
+far as I am concerned,” Amelius interposed, “I hope that will be enough.
+With regard to the young lady, I must beg you to excuse me for speaking
+plainly. I have nothing to say about her, to you or to anybody.”
+
+Mr. Melton rose with the utmost dignity and the fullest possession of
+his vocal resources.
+
+“Permit me to assure you,” he said, with frigidly fluent politeness,
+“that I have no wish to force myself into your confidence. One remark
+I will venture to make. It is easy enough, no doubt, to keep your own
+secrets, when you are speaking to _me._ You will find some difficulty,
+I fear, in pursuing the same course, when you are called upon to
+give evidence before the coroner. I presume you know that you will be
+summoned as a witness at the inquest?”
+
+“I left my name and address with the doctor for that purpose,” Amelius
+rejoined as composedly as ever; “and I am ready to bear witness to what
+I saw at poor Mrs. Farnaby’s bedside. But if all the coroners in England
+questioned me about anything else, I should say to them just what I have
+said to you.”
+
+Mr. Melton smiled with well bred irony. “We shall see,” he said. “In the
+mean time, I presume I may ask you, in the interests of the family, to
+send me the address on the letter, as soon as you hear from Miss Regina.
+I have no other means of communicating with Mr. Farnaby. In respect to
+the melancholy event, I may add that I have undertaken to provide for
+the funeral, and to pay any little outstanding debts, and so forth. As
+Mr. Farnaby’s old friend and representative--”
+
+The conclusion of the sentence was interrupted by the entrance of Toff
+with a note, and an apology for his intrusion. “I beg your pardon, sir;
+the person is waiting. She says it’s only a receipt to sign. The box is
+in the hall.”
+
+Amelius examined the enclosure. It was a formal document, acknowledging
+the receipt of Sally’s clothes, returned to her by the authorities at
+the Home. As he took a pen to sign the receipt he looked towards the
+door of Sally’s room. Mr. Melton, observing the look, prepared to
+retire. “I am only interrupting you,” he said. “You have my address on
+my card. Good evening.”
+
+On his way out, he passed an elderly woman, waiting in the hall. Toff,
+hastening before him to open the garden gate, was saluted by the gruff
+voice of a cabman, outside. “The lady whom he had driven to the cottage
+had not paid him his right fare; he meant to have the money, or the
+lady’s name and address, and summon her.” Quietly crossing the road, Mr.
+Melton heard the woman’s voice next: she had got her receipt, and had
+followed him out. In the dispute about fares and distances that ensued,
+the contending parties more than once mentioned the name of the Home and
+of the locality in which it was situated. Possessing this information,
+Mr. Melton looked in at his club; consulted a directory, under the
+heading of “Charitable Institutions;” and solved the mystery of the
+vanishing petticoats at the door. He had discovered an inmate of an
+asylum for lost women, in the house of the man to whom Regina was
+engaged to be married!
+
+
+The next morning’s post brought to Amelius a letter from Regina. It was
+dated from an hotel in Paris. Her “dear uncle” had over estimated his
+strength. He had refused to stay and rest for the night at Boulogne; and
+had suffered so severely from the fatigue of the long journey that he
+had been confined to his bed since his arrival. The English physician
+consulted had declined to say when he would be strong enough to travel
+again; the constitution of the patient must have received some serious
+shock; he was brought very low. Having carefully reported the new
+medical opinion, Regina was at liberty to indulge herself, next, in
+expressions of affection, and to assure Amelius of her anxiety to
+hear from him as soon as possible. But, in this case again, the “dear
+uncle’s” convenience was still the first consideration. She reverted to
+Mr. Farnaby, in making her excuses for a hurriedly written letter. The
+poor invalid suffered from depression of spirits; his great consolation
+in his illness was to hear his niece read to him: he was calling for
+her, indeed, at that moment. The inevitable postscript warmed into a
+mild effusion of fondness, “How I wish you could be with us. But, alas,
+it cannot be!”
+
+Amelius copied the address on the letter, and sent it to Mr. Melton
+immediately.
+
+It was then the twenty-fourth day of the month. The tidal train did not
+leave London early that morning; and the inquest was deferred, to suit
+other pressing engagements of the coroner, until the twenty-sixth. Mr.
+Melton decided, after his interview with Amelius, that the emergency was
+sufficiently serious to justify him in following his telegram to Paris.
+It was clearly his duty, as an old friend, to mention to Mr. Farnaby
+what he had discovered at the cottage, as well as what he had heard from
+the landlady and the doctor; leaving it to the uncle’s discretion to act
+as he thought right in the interests of the niece. Whether that course
+of action might not also serve the interests of Mr. Melton himself, in
+the character of an unsuccessful suitor for Regina’s hand, he did not
+stop to inquire. Beyond his duty it was, for the present at least, not
+his business to look.
+
+That night, the two gentlemen held a private consultation in Paris; the
+doctor having previously certified that his patient was incapable of
+supporting the journey back to London, under any circumstances.
+
+The question of the formal proceedings rendered necessary by Mrs.
+Farnaby’s death having been discussed and disposed of, Mr. Melton
+next entered on the narrative which the obligations of friendship
+imperatively demanded from him. To his astonishment and alarm, Mr.
+Farnaby started up in the bed like a man panic-stricken. “Did you say,”
+ he stammered, as soon as he could speak, “you mean to make inquiries
+about that--that girl?”
+
+“I certainly thought it desirable, bearing in mind Mr. Goldenheart’s
+position in your family.”
+
+“Do nothing of the sort! Say nothing to Regina or to any living
+creature. Wait till I get well again--and leave me to deal with it. I am
+the proper person to take it in hand. Don’t you see that for yourself?
+And, look here! there may be questions asked at the inquest. Some
+impudent scoundrel on the jury may want to pry into what doesn’t concern
+him. The moment you’re back in London, get a lawyer to represent us--the
+sharpest fellow that can be had for money. Tell him to stop all prying
+questions. Who the girl is, and what made that cursed young Socialist
+Goldenheart take her upstairs with him--all that sort of thing has
+nothing to do with the manner in which my wife met her death. You
+understand? I look to you, Melton, to see yourself that this is done.
+The less said at the infernal inquest, the better. In my position, it’s
+an exposure that my enemies will make the most of, as it is. I’m too ill
+to go into the thing any further. No: I don’t want Regina. Go to her in
+the sitting room, and tell the courier to get you something to eat and
+drink. And, I say! For God’s sake don’t be late for the Boulogne train
+tomorrow morning.”
+
+Left by himself, he gave full vent to his fury; he cursed Amelius with
+oaths that are not to be written.
+
+He had burnt the letter which Mrs. Farnaby had written to him, on
+leaving him forever; but he had not burnt out of his memory the words
+which that letter contained. With his wife’s language vividly present to
+his mind, he could arrive at but one conclusion, after what Mr. Melton
+had told him. Amelius was concerned in the discovery of his deserted
+daughter; Amelius had taken the girl to her dying mother’s bedside. With
+his idiotic Socialist notions, he would be perfectly capable of owning
+the truth, if inquiries were made. The unblemished reputation which John
+Farnaby had built up by the self-seeking hypocrisy of a lifetime was
+at the mercy of a visionary young fool, who believed that rich men were
+created for the benefit of the poor, and who proposed to regenerate
+society by reviving the obsolete morality of the Primitive Christians.
+Was it possible for him to come to terms with such a person as this?
+There was not an inch of common ground on which they could meet. He
+dropped back on his pillow in despair, and lay for a while frowning and
+biting his nails. Suddenly he sat up again in the bed, and wiped his
+moist forehead, and heaved a heavy breath of relief. Had his illness
+obscured his intelligence? How was it he had not seen at once the
+perfectly easy way out of the difficulty which was presented by the
+facts themselves? Here is a man, engaged to marry my niece, who has been
+discovered keeping a girl at his cottage--who even had the audacity to
+take her upstairs with him when he made a call on my wife. Charge him
+with it in plain words; break off the engagement publicly in the face
+of society; and, if the profligate scoundrel tries to defend himself by
+telling the truth, who will believe him--when the girl was seen running
+out of his room? and when he refused, on the question being put to him,
+to say who she was?
+
+So, in ignorance of his wife’s last instructions to Amelius--in equal
+ignorance of the compassionate silence which an honourable man preserves
+when a woman’s reputation is at his mercy--the wretch needlessly plotted
+and planned to save his usurped reputation; seeing all things, as such
+men invariably do, through the foul light of his own inbred baseness and
+cruelty. He was troubled by no retributive emotions of shame or remorse,
+in contemplating this second sacrifice to his own interests of the
+daughter whom he had deserted in her infancy. If he felt any misgivings,
+they related wholly to himself. His head was throbbing, his tongue was
+dry; a dread of increasing his illness shook him suddenly. He drank
+some of the lemonade at his bedside, and lay down to compose himself to
+sleep.
+
+It was not to be done; there was a burning in his eyeballs, there was
+a wild irregular beating at his heart, which kept him awake. In some
+degree, at least, retribution seemed to be on the way to him already.
+
+Mr. Melton, delicately administering sympathy and consolation to
+Regina--whose affectionate nature felt keenly the calamity of her aunt’s
+death--Mr. Melton, making himself modestly useful, by reading aloud
+certain devotional poems much prized by Regina, was called out of the
+room by the courier.
+
+“I have just looked in at Mr. Farnaby, sir,” said the man; “and I am
+afraid he is worse.”
+
+The physician was sent for. He thought so seriously of the change in the
+patient, that he obliged Regina to accept the services of a professed
+nurse. When Mr. Melton started on his return journey the next morning,
+he left his friend in a high fever.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 2
+
+The inquiry into the circumstances under which Mrs. Farnaby had died was
+held in the forenoon of the next day.
+
+Mr. Melton surprised Amelius by calling for him, and taking him to the
+inquest. The carriage stopped on the way, and a gentleman joined them,
+who was introduced as Mr. Melton’s legal adviser. He spoke to Amelius
+about the inquest; stating, as his excuse for asking certain discreet
+questions, that his object was to suppress any painful disclosures. On
+reaching the house, Mr. Melton and his lawyer said a few words to the
+coroner downstairs, while the jury were assembling on the floor above.
+
+The first witness examined was the landlady.
+
+After deposing to the date at which the late Mrs. Farnaby had hired
+her lodgings, and verifying the statements which had appeared in
+the newspapers, she was questioned about the life and habits of the
+deceased. She described her late lodger as a respectable lady, punctual
+in her payments, and quiet and orderly in her way of life: she received
+letters, but saw no friends. On several occasions, an old woman was
+admitted to speak with her; and these visits seemed to be anything but
+agreeable to the deceased. Asked if she knew anything of the old woman,
+or of what had passed at the interviews described, the witness answered
+both questions in the negative. When the woman called, she always told
+the servant to announce her as “the nurse.”
+
+Mr. Melton was next examined, to prove the identity of the deceased.
+
+He declared that he was quite unable to explain why she had left her
+husband’s house under an assumed name. Asked if Mr. and Mrs. Farnaby had
+lived together on affectionate terms, he acknowledged that he had
+heard, at various times, of a want of harmony between them, but was not
+acquainted with the cause. Mr. Farnaby’s high character and position in
+the commercial world spoke for themselves: the restraints of a gentleman
+guided him in his relations with his wife. The medical certificate of
+his illness in Paris was then put in; and Mr. Melton’s examination came
+to an end.
+
+The chemist who had made up the prescription was the third witness. He
+knew the woman who brought it to his shop to be in the service of the
+first witness examined; an old customer of his, and a highly respected
+resident in the neighbourhood. He made up all prescriptions himself in
+which poisons were conspicuous ingredients; and he had affixed to the
+bottle a slip of paper, bearing the word “Poison,” printed in large
+letters. The bottle was produced and identified; and the directions in
+the prescription were shown to have been accurately copied on the label.
+
+A general sensation of interest was excited by the appearance of the
+next witness--the woman servant. It was anticipated that her evidence
+would explain how the fatal mistake about the medicine had occurred.
+After replying to the formal inquiries, she proceeded as follows:
+
+“When I answered the bell, at the time I have mentioned, I found the
+deceased standing at the fireplace. There was a bottle of medicine on
+the table, by her writing desk. It was a much larger bottle than that
+which the last witness identified, and it was more than three parts full
+of some colourless medicine. The deceased gave me a prescription to take
+to the chemist’s, with instructions to wait, and bring back the physic.
+She said, ‘I don’t feel at all well this morning; I thought of trying
+some of this medicine,’ pointing to the bottle by her desk; ‘but I
+am not sure it is the right thing for me. I think I want a tonic. The
+prescription I have given you is a tonic.’ I went out at once to our
+chemist and got it. I found her writing a letter when I came back, but
+she finished it immediately, and pushed it away from her. When I put the
+bottle I had brought from the chemist on the table, she looked at the
+other larger bottle which she had by her; and she said, ‘You will
+think me very undecided; I have been doubting, since I sent you to the
+chemist, whether I had not better begin with this medicine here, before
+I try the tonic. It’s a medicine for the stomach; and I fancy it’s only
+indigestion that’s the matter with me, after all.’ I said, ‘You eat but
+a poor breakfast, ma’am, this morning. It isn’t for me to advise; but,
+as you seem to be in doubt about yourself, wouldn’t it be better to send
+for a doctor?’ She shook her head, and said she didn’t want to have
+a doctor if she could possibly help it. ‘I’ll try the medicine for
+indigestion first,’ she says; ‘and if it doesn’t relieve me, we will see
+what is to be done, later in the day.’ While we were talking, the tonic
+was left in its sealed paper cover, just as I had brought it from the
+shop. She took up the bottle containing the stomach medicine, and read
+the directions on it: ‘Two tablespoonsful by measure-glass twice a day.’
+I asked if she had a measure-glass; and she said, Yes, and sent me to
+her bedroom to look for it. I couldn’t find it. While I was looking, I
+heard her cry out, and ran back to the drawing-room to see what was the
+matter. ‘Oh!’ she says, ‘how clumsy I am! I’ve broken the bottle.’ She
+held up the bottle of the stomach medicine and showed it to me, broken
+just below the neck. ‘Go back to the bedroom,’ she says, ‘and see if you
+can find an empty bottle; I don’t want to waste the medicine if I can
+help it.’ There was only one empty bottle in the bedroom, a bottle on
+the chimney-piece. I took it to her immediately. She gave me the broken
+bottle; and while I poured the medicine into the bottle which I had
+found in the bedroom, she opened the paper which covered the tonic I
+had brought from the chemist. When I had done, and the two bottles were
+together on the table--the bottle that I had filled, and the bottle that
+I had brought front the chemist--I noticed that they were both of the
+same size, and that both had a label pasted on them, marked ‘Poison.’ I
+said to her, ‘You must take care, ma’am, you don’t make any mistake,
+the two bottles are so exactly alike.’ ‘I can easily prevent that,’ she
+says, and dipped her pen in the ink, and copied the directions on the
+broken bottle, on to the label of the bottle that I had just filled.
+‘There!’ she said. ‘Now I hope your mind’s at ease?’ She spoke
+cheerfully, as if she was joking with me. And then she said, ‘But
+where’s the measure-glass?’ I went back to the bedroom to look for it,
+and couldn’t find it again. She changed all at once, upon that--she
+became quite angry; and walked up and down in a fume, abusing me for my
+stupidity. It was very unlike her. On all other occasions she was a
+most considerate lady. I made allowances for her. She had been very much
+upset earlier in the morning, when she had received a letter, which she
+told me herself contained bad news. Yes; another person was present at
+the time--the same woman that my mistress told you of. The woman looked
+at the address on the letter, and seemed to know who it was from. I told
+her a squint-eyed man had brought it to the house--and then she left
+directly. I don’t know where she went, or the address at which she
+lives, or who the messenger was who brought the letter. As I have said,
+I made allowances for the deceased lady. I went downstairs, without
+answering, and got a tumbler and a tablespoon to serve instead of the
+measure-glass. When I came back with the things, she was still walking
+about in a temper. She took no notice of me. I left the room again
+quietly, seeing she was not in a state to be spoken to. I saw nothing
+more of her, until we were alarmed by hearing her scream. We found
+the poor lady on the floor in a kind of fit. I ran out and fetched the
+nearest doctor. This is the whole truth, on my oath; and this is all I
+know about it.”
+
+The landlady was recalled at the request of the jury, and questioned
+again about the old woman. She could give no information. Being asked
+next if any letters or papers belonging to, or written by, the deceased
+lady had been found, she declared that, after the strictest search,
+nothing had been discovered but two medical prescriptions. The writing
+desk was empty.
+
+The doctor was the next witness.
+
+He described the state in which he found the patient, on being called
+to the house. The symptoms were those of poisoning by strychnine.
+Examination of the prescriptions and the bottles, aided by the servant’s
+information, convinced him that a fatal mistake had been made by the
+deceased; the nature of which he explained to the jury as he had already
+explained it to Amelius. Having mentioned the meeting with Amelius
+at the house-door, and the events which had followed, he closed his
+evidence by stating the result of the postmortem examination, proving
+that the death was caused by the poison called strychnine.
+
+The landlady and the servant were examined again. They were instructed
+to inform the jury exactly of the time that had elapsed, from the moment
+when the servant had left the deceased alone in the drawing-room, to
+the time when the screams were first heard. Having both given the
+same evidence, on this point, they were next asked whether any person,
+besides the old woman, had visited the deceased lady--or had on any
+pretence obtained access to her in the interval. Both swore positively
+that there had not even been a knock at the house-door in the interval,
+and that the area-gate was locked, and the key in the possession of the
+landlady. This evidence placed it beyond the possibility of doubt that
+the deceased had herself taken the poison. The question whether she had
+taken it by accident was the only question left to decide, when Amelius
+was called as the next witness.
+
+The lawyer retained by Mr. Melton, to watch the case on behalf of Mr.
+Farnaby, had hitherto not interfered. It was observed that he paid the
+closest attention to the inquiry, at the stage which it had now reached.
+
+Amelius was nervous at the outset. The early training in America, which
+had hardened him to face an audience and speak with self-possession
+on social and political subjects had not prepared him for the very
+difficult ordeal of a first appearance as a witness. Having answered
+the customary inquiries, he was so painfully agitated in describing Mrs.
+Farnaby’s sufferings, that the coroner suspended the examination for a
+few minutes, to give him time to control himself. He failed, however, to
+recover his composure, until the narrative part of his evidence had come
+to an end. When the critical questions, bearing on his relations with
+Mrs. Farnaby, began, the audience noticed that he lifted his head,
+and looked and spoke, for the first time, like a man with a settled
+resolution in him, sure of himself.
+
+The questions proceeded:
+
+Was he in Mrs. Farnaby’s confidence, on the subject of her domestic
+differences with her husband? Did those differences lead to her
+withdrawing herself from her husband’s roof? Did Mrs. Farnaby inform
+him of the place of her retreat? To these three questions the witness,
+speaking quite readily in each case, answered Yes. Asked next, what the
+nature of the ‘domestic differences’ had been; whether they were likely
+to affect Mrs. Farnaby’s mind seriously; why she had passed under an
+assumed name, and why she had confided the troubles of her married life
+to a young man like himself, only introduced to her a few months since,
+the witness simply declined to reply to the inquiries addressed to him.
+“The confidence Mrs. Farnaby placed in me,” he said to the coroner, “was
+a confidence which I gave her my word of honour to respect. When I have
+said that, I hope the jury will understand that I owe it to the memory
+of the dead to say no more.”
+
+There was a murmur of approval among the audience, instantly checked by
+the coroner. The foreman of the jury rose, and remarked that scruples
+of honour were out of place at a serious inquiry of that sort. Hearing
+this, the lawyer saw his opportunity, and got on his legs. “I represent
+the husband of the deceased lady,” he said. “Mr. Goldenheart has
+appealed to the law of honour to justify him in keeping silence. I am
+astonished that there is a man to be found in this assembly who fails to
+sympathize with him. But as there appears to be such a person present,
+I ask permission, sir, to put a question to the witness. It may, or may
+not, satisfy the foreman of the jury; but it will certainly assist the
+object of the present inquiry.”
+
+The coroner, after a glance at Mr. Melton, permitted the lawyer to put
+his question in these terms:--
+
+“Did your knowledge of Mrs. Farnaby’s domestic troubles give you any
+reason to apprehend that they might urge her to commit suicide?
+
+“Certainly not,” Amelius answered. “When I called on her, on the morning
+of her death, I had no apprehension whatever of her committing suicide.
+I went to the house as the bearer of good news; and I said so to the
+doctor, when he first spoke to me.”
+
+The doctor confirmed this. The foreman was silenced, if not convinced.
+One of his brother-jurymen, however, feeling the force of example,
+interrupted the proceedings, by assailing Amelius with another
+question:--“We have heard that you were accompanied by a young lady at
+the time you have mentioned, and that you took her upstairs with you. We
+want to know what business the young lady had in the house?”
+
+The lawyer interfered again. “I object to that question,” he said. “The
+purpose of the inquest is to ascertain how Mrs. Farnaby met with her
+death. What has the young lady to do with it? The doctor’s evidence has
+already told us that she was not at the house, until after he had been
+called in, and the deadly action of the poison had begun. I appeal,
+sir, to the law of evidence, and to you, as the presiding authority, to
+enforce it. Mr. Goldenheart, who is acquainted with the circumstances
+of the deceased lady’s life, has declared on his oath that there was
+nothing in those circumstances to inspire him with any apprehension
+of her committing suicide. The evidence of the servant at the lodgings
+points plainly to the conclusion already arrived at by the medical
+witness, that the death was the result of a lamentable mistake, and of
+that alone. Is our time to be wasted in irrelevant questions, and are
+the feelings of the surviving relatives to be cruelly lacerated to no
+purpose, to satisfy the curiosity of strangers?”
+
+A strong expression of approval from the audience followed this. The
+lawyer whispered to Mr. Melton, “It’s all right!”
+
+Order being restored, the coroner ruled that the juryman’s question
+was not admissible, and that the servant’s evidence, taken with the
+statements of the doctor and the chemist, was the only evidence for
+the consideration of the jury. Summing up to this effect, he recalled
+Amelius, at the request of the foreman, to inquire if the witness knew
+anything of the old woman who had been frequently alluded to in the
+course of the proceedings. Amelius could answer this question as
+honestly as he had answered the questions preceding it. He neither knew
+the woman’s name, nor where she was to be found. The coroner inquired,
+with a touch of irony, if the jury wished the inquest to be adjourned,
+under existing circumstances.
+
+For the sake of appearances, the jury consulted together. But the
+luncheon-hour was approaching; the servant’s evidence was undeniably
+clear and conclusive; the coroner, in summing up, had requested them not
+to forget that the deceased had lost her temper with the servant, and
+that an angry woman might well make a mistake which would be unlikely
+in her cooler moments. All these influences led the jury irrepressibly,
+over the obstacles of obstinacy, on the way to submission. After a
+needless delay, they returned a verdict of “death by misadventure.” The
+secret of Mrs. Farnaby’s suicide remained inviolate; the reputation of
+her vile husband stood as high as ever; and the future life of Amelius
+was, from that fatal moment, turned irrevocably into a new course.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 3
+
+On the conclusion of the proceedings, Mr. Melton, having no further
+need of Amelius or the lawyer, drove away by himself. But he was too
+inveterately polite to omit making his excuses for leaving them in a
+hurry; he expected, he said, to find a telegram from Paris waiting at
+his house. Amelius only delayed his departure to ask the landlady if
+the day of the funeral was settled. Hearing that it was arranged for the
+next morning, he thanked her, and returned at once to the cottage.
+
+Sally was waiting his arrival to complete some purchases of mourning for
+her unhappy mother; Toff’s wife being in attendance to take care of
+her. She was curious to know how the inquest had ended. In answering
+her question, Amelius was careful to warn her, if her companion made
+any inquiries, only to say that she had lost her mother under very sad
+circumstances. The two having left the cottage, he instructed Toff to
+let in a stranger, who was to call by previous appointment, and to close
+the door to every one else. In a few minutes, the expected person,
+a young man, who gave the name of Morcross, made his appearance, and
+sorely puzzled the old Frenchman. He was well dressed; his manner was
+quiet and self-possessed--and yet he did not look like a gentleman. In
+fact, he was a policeman of the higher order, in plain clothes.
+
+Being introduced to the library, he spread out on the table some sheets
+of manuscript, in the handwriting of Amelius, with notes in red ink on
+the margin, made by himself.
+
+“I understand, sir,” he began, “that you have reasons for not bringing
+this case to trial in a court of law?”
+
+“I am sorry to say,” Amelius answered, “that I dare not consent to the
+exposure of a public trial, for the sake of persons living and dead.
+For the same reason, I have written the account of the conspiracy with
+certain reserves. I hope I have not thrown any needless difficulties in
+your way?”
+
+“Certainly not, sir. But I should wish to ask, what you propose to do,
+in case I discover the people concerned in the conspiracy?”
+
+Amelius owned, very reluctantly, that he could do nothing with the old
+woman who had been the accomplice. “Unless,” he added, “I can induce
+her to assist me in bringing the man to justice for other crimes which I
+believe him to have committed.”
+
+“Meaning the man named Jervy, sir, in this statement?”
+
+“Yes. I have reason to believe that he has been obliged to leave the
+United States, after committing some serious offence--”
+
+“I beg your pardon for interrupting you, sir. Is it serious enough to
+charge him with, under the treaty between the two countries?”
+
+“I don’t doubt it’s serious enough. I have telegraphed to the persons
+who formerly employed him, for the particulars. Mind this! I will stick
+at no sacrifice to make that scoundrel suffer for what he has done.”
+
+In those plain words Amelius revealed, as frankly as usual, the
+purpose that was in him. The terrible remembrances associated with Mrs.
+Farnaby’s last moments had kindled, in his just and generous nature, a
+burning sense of the wrong inflicted on the poor heart-broken creature
+who had trusted and loved him. The unendurable thought that the wretch
+who had tortured her, robbed her, and driven her to her death had
+escaped with impunity, literally haunted him night and day. Eager to
+provide for Sally’s future, he had followed Mrs. Farnaby’s instructions,
+and had seen the lawyer privately, during the period that had elapsed
+between the death and the inquest. Hearing that there were formalities
+to be complied with, which would probably cause some delay, he had at
+once announced his determination to employ the interval in attempting
+the pursuit of Jervy. The lawyer--after vainly pointing out the serious
+objections to the course proposed--so far yielded to the irresistible
+earnestness and good faith of Amelius as to recommend him to a competent
+man, who could be trusted not to deceive him. The same day the man had
+received a written statement of the case; and he had now arrived to
+report the result of his first proceedings to his employer.
+
+“One thing I want to know, before you tell me anything else,” Amelius
+resumed. “Is my written description of Jervy plain enough to help you to
+find him?”
+
+“It’s so plain, sir, that some of the older men in our office have
+recognized him by it--under another name than the name you give him.”
+
+“Does that add to the difficulty of tracing him?”
+
+“He has been a long time away from England, sir; and it’s by no means
+easy to trace him, on that account. I have been to the young woman,
+named Phoebe in your statement, to find out what she can tell me about
+him. She’s ready enough, in the intervals of crying, to help us to
+lay our hands on the man who has deserted her. It’s the old story of a
+fellow getting at a girl’s secrets and a girl’s money, under pretence of
+marrying her. At one time, she’s furious with him, and at another she’s
+ready to cry her eyes out. I got some information from her; it’s not
+much, but it may help us. The name of the old woman, who has been the
+go-between in the business, is Mrs. Sowler--known to the police as
+an inveterate drunkard, and worse. I don’t think there will be much
+difficulty in tracing Mrs. Sowler. As to Jervy, if the young woman is
+to be believed, and I think she is, there’s little doubt that he has got
+the money from the lady mentioned in my instructions here, and that he
+has bolted with the sum about him. Wait a bit, sir, I haven’t done with
+my discoveries yet. I asked the young woman, of course, if she had his
+photograph. He’s a sharp fellow; she had it, but he got it away from
+her, on pretence of giving her a better one, before he took himself off.
+Having missed this chance, I asked next if she knew where he lived last.
+She directed me to the place; and I have had a talk with the landlord.
+He tells me of a squint-eyed man, who was a good deal about the house,
+doing Jervy’s dirty work for him. If I am not misled by the description,
+I think I know the man. I have my own notion of what he’s capable of
+doing, if he gets the chance--and I propose to begin by finding our way
+to him, and using him as a means of tracing Jervy. It’s only right to
+tell you that it may take some time to do this--for which reason I have
+to propose, in the mean while, trying a shorter way to the end in view.
+Do you object, sir, to the expense of sending a copy of your description
+of Jervy to every police-station in London?”
+
+“I object to nothing which may help to find him. Do you think the police
+have got him anywhere?”
+
+“You forget, sir, that the police have no orders to take him. What I’m
+speculating on is the chance that he has got the money about him--say in
+small banknotes, for convenience of changing them, you know.”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“Well, sir, the people he lives among--the squint-eyed man, for
+instance!--don’t stick at trifles. If any of them have found out that
+Jervy’s purse is worth having--”
+
+“You mean they would rob him?”
+
+“And murder him too, sir, if he tried to resist.”
+
+Amelius started to his feet. “Send round to the police-stations without
+losing another minute,” he said. “And let me hear what the answer is,
+the instant you receive it.”
+
+“Suppose I get the answer late at night, sir?”
+
+“I don’t care when you get it, night or day. Dead or living, I will
+undertake to identify him. Here’s a duplicate key of the garden gate.
+Come this way, and I’ll show you where my bedroom is. If we are all
+in bed, tap at the window--and I will be ready for you at a moment’s
+notice.”
+
+On that understanding Morcross left the cottage.
+
+The day when the mortal remains of Mrs. Farnaby were laid at rest was a
+day of heavy rain. Mr. Melton, and two or three other old friends, were
+the attendants at the funeral. When the coffin was borne into the
+damp and reeking burial ground, a young man and a woman were the only
+persons, beside the sexton and his assistants, who stood by the open
+grave. Mr. Melton, recognizing Amelius, was at a loss to understand
+who his companion could be. It was impossible to suppose that he would
+profane that solemn ceremony by bringing to it the lost woman at the
+cottage. The thick black veil of the person with him hid her face from
+view. No visible expressions of grief escaped her. When the last sublime
+words of the burial service had been read, those two mourners were left,
+after the others had all departed, still standing together by the grave.
+Mr. Melton decided on mentioning the circumstance confidentially when
+he wrote to his friend in Paris. Telegrams from Regina, in reply to his
+telegrams from London, had informed him that Mr. Farnaby had felt the
+benefit of the remedies employed, and was slowly on the way to recovery.
+It seemed likely that he would, in no long time, take the right course
+for the protection of his niece. For the enlightenment which might, or
+might not, come with that time, Mr. Melton was resigned to wait, with
+the disciplined patience to which he had been mainly indebted for his
+success in life.
+
+
+“Always remember your mother tenderly, my child,” said Amelius, as they
+left the burial ground. “She was sorely tried, poor thing, in her life
+time, and she loved you very dearly.”
+
+“Do you know anything of my father?” Sally asked timidly. “Is he still
+living?”
+
+“My dear, you will never see your father. I must be all that the kindest
+father and mother could have been to you, now. Oh, my poor little girl!”
+
+She pressed his arm to her as she held it. “Why should you pity me?” she
+said. “Haven’t I got You?”
+
+They passed the day together quietly at the cottage. Amelius took down
+some of his books, and pleased Sally by giving her his first lessons.
+Soon after ten o’clock she withdrew, at the usual early hour, to her
+room. In her absence, he sent for Toff, intending to warn him not to be
+alarmed if he heard footsteps in the garden, after they had all gone to
+bed. The old servant had barely entered the library, when he was called
+away by the bell at the outer gate. Amelius, looking into the hall,
+discovered Morcross, and signed to him eagerly to come in. The
+police-officer closed the door cautiously behind him. He had arrived
+with news that Jervy was found.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 4
+
+“Where has he been found?” Amelius asked, snatching up his hat.
+
+“There’s no hurry, sir,” Morcross answered quietly. “When I had the
+honour of seeing you yesterday, you said you meant to make Jervy suffer
+for what he had done. Somebody else has saved you the trouble. He was
+found this evening in the river.”
+
+“Drowned?”
+
+“Stabbed in three places, sir; and put out of the way in the
+river--that’s the surgeon’s report. Robbed of everything he
+possessed--that’s the police report, after searching his pockets.”
+
+Amelius was silent. It had not entered into his calculations that crime
+breeds crime, and that the criminal might escape him under that law.
+For the moment, he was conscious of a sense of disappointment, revealing
+plainly that the desire for vengeance had mingled with the higher
+motives which animated him. He felt uneasy and ashamed, and longed as
+usual to take refuge in action from his own unwelcome thoughts. “Are
+you sure it is the man?” he asked. “My description may have misled the
+police--I should like to see him myself.”
+
+“Certainly, sir. While we are about it, if you feel any curiosity to
+trace Jervy’s ill-gotten money, there’s a chance (from what I have
+heard) of finding the man with the squint. The people at our place think
+it’s likely he may have been concerned in the robbery, if he hasn’t
+committed the murder.”
+
+In an hour after, under the guidance of Morcross, Amelius passed through
+the dreary doors of a deadhouse, situated on the southern bank of the
+Thames, and saw the body of Jervy stretched out on a stone slab. The
+guardian who held the lantern, inured to such horrible sights, declared
+that the corpse could not have been in the water more than two days. To
+any one who had seen the murdered man, the face, undisfigured by injury
+of any kind, was perfectly recognizable. Amelius knew him again, dead,
+as certainly as he had known him again, living, when he was waiting for
+Phoebe in the street.
+
+“If you’re satisfied, sir,” said Morcross, “the inspector at the
+police-station is sending a sergeant to look after ‘Wall-Eyes’--the name
+they give hereabouts to the man suspected of the robbery. We can take
+the sergeant with us in the cab, if you like.”
+
+Still keeping on the southern bank of the river, they drove for
+a quarter of an hour in a westerly direction, and stopped at a
+public-house. The sergeant of police went in by himself to make the
+first inquiries.
+
+“We are a day too late, sir,” he said to Amelius, on returning to the
+cab. “Wall-Eyes was here last night, and Mother Sowler with him, judging
+by the description. Both of them drunk--and the woman the worse of the
+two. The landlord knew nothing more about it; but there’s a man at
+the bar tells me he heard of them this morning (still drinking) at the
+Dairy.”
+
+“The Dairy?” Amelius repeated.
+
+Morcross interposed with the necessary explanation. “An old house, sir,
+which once stood by itself in the fields. It was a dairy a hundred years
+ago; and it has kept the name ever since, though it’s nothing but a low
+lodging house now.”
+
+“One of the worst places on this side of the river,” the sergeant added,
+“The landlord’s a returned convict. Sly as he is we shall have him again
+yet, for receiving stolen goods. There’s every sort of thief among his
+lodgers, from a pickpocket to a housebreaker. It’s my duty to continue
+the inquiry, sir; but a gentleman like you will be better, I should say,
+out of such a place as that.”
+
+Still disquieted by the sight that he had seen in the deadhouse, and by
+the associations which that sight had recalled, Amelius was ready for
+any adventure which might relieve his mind. Even the prospect of a visit
+to a thieves’ lodging house was more welcome to him than the prospect of
+going home alone. “If there’s no serious objection to it,” he said, “I
+own I should like to see the place.”
+
+“You’ll be safe enough with us,” the sergeant replied. “If you don’t
+mind filthy people and bad language--all right, sir! Cabman, drive to
+the Dairy.”
+
+Their direction was now towards the south, through a perfect labyrinth
+of mean and dirty streets. Twice the driver was obliged to ask his way.
+On the second occasion the sergeant, putting his head out of the window
+to stop the cab, cried, “Hullo! there’s something up.”
+
+They got out in front of a long low rambling house, a complete contrast
+to the modern buildings about it. Late as the hour was, a mob had
+assembled in front of the door. The police were on the spot keeping the
+people in order.
+
+Morcross and the sergeant pushed their way through the crowd, leading
+Amelius between them. “Something wrong, sir, in the back kitchen,” said
+one of the policemen answering the sergeant while he opened the street
+door. A few yards down the passage there was a second door, with a
+man on the watch by it. “There’s a nice to-do downstairs,” the man
+announced, recognizing the sergeant, and unlocking the door with a key
+which he took from his pocket. “The landlord at the Dairy knows his
+lodgers, sir,” Morcross whispered to Amelius; “the place is kept like
+a prison.” As they passed through the second door, a frantic voice
+startled them, shouting in fury from below. An old man came hobbling
+up the kitchen stairs, his eyes wild with fear, his long grey hair all
+tumbled over his face. “Oh, Lord, have you got the tools for breaking
+open the door?” he asked, wringing his dirty hands in an agony of
+supplication. “She’ll set the house on fire! she’ll kill my wife and
+daughter!” The sergeant pushed him contemptuously out of the way,
+and looked round for Amelius. “It’s only the landlord, sir; keep near
+Morcross, and follow me.”
+
+They descended the kitchen stairs, the frantic cries below growing
+louder and louder at every step they took; and made their way through
+the thieves and vagabonds crowding together in the passage. Passing on
+their right hand a solid old oaken door fast closed, they reached an
+open wicket-gate of iron which led into a stone-paved yard. A heavily
+barred window was now visible in the back wall of the house, raised
+three or four feet from the pavement of the yard. The room within was
+illuminated by a blaze of gaslight. More policemen were here, keeping
+back more inquisitive lodgers. Among the spectators was a man with a
+hideous outward squint, holding by the window-bars in a state of
+drunken terror. The sergeant looked at him, and beckoned to one of the
+policemen. “Take him to the station; I shall have something to say to
+Wall-Eyes when he’s sober. Now then! stand back all of you, and let’s
+see what’s going on in the kitchen.”
+
+He took Amelius by the arm, and led him to the window. Even the sergeant
+started when the scene inside met his view. “By God!” he cried, “it’s
+Mother Sowler herself.”
+
+It _was_ Mother Sowler. The horrible woman was tramping round and round
+in the middle of the kitchen, like a beast in a cage; raving in the
+dreadful drink-madness called delirium tremens. In the farthest corner
+of the room, barricaded behind the table, the landlord’s wife and
+daughter crouched in terror of their lives. The gas, turned full on,
+blazed high enough to blacken the ceiling, and showed the heavy bolts
+shot at the top and bottom of the solid door. Nothing less than a
+battering-ram could have burst that door in from the outer side; an
+hour’s work with the file would have failed to break a passage through
+the bars over the window. “How did she get there?” the sergeant asked.
+“Run downstairs, and bolted herself in, while the missus and the young
+‘un were cooking”--was the answering cry from the people in the yard. As
+they spoke, another vain attempt was made to break in the door from
+the passage. The noise of the heavy blows redoubled the frenzy of the
+terrible creature in the kitchen, still tramping round and round under
+the blazing gaslight. Suddenly, she made a dart at the window, and
+confronted the men looking in from the yard. Her staring eyes were
+bloodshot; a purple-red flush was over her face; her hair waved wildly
+about her, torn away in places by her own hands. “Cats!” she screamed,
+glaring out of the window, “millions of cats! all their months wide
+open spitting at me! Fire! fire to scare away the cats!” She searched
+furiously in her pocket, and tore out a handful of loose papers. One of
+them escaped, and fluttered downward to a wooden press under the window.
+Amelius was nearest, and saw it plainly as it fell, “Good heavens!” he
+exclaimed, “it’s a bank-note!” “Wall-Eyes’ money!” shouted the thieves
+in the yard; “She’s going to burn Wall-Eyes’ money!” The madwoman turned
+back to the middle of the kitchen, leapt up at the gas-burner, and set
+fire to the bank-notes. She scattered them flaming all round her on the
+kitchen floor. “Away with you!” she shouted, shaking her fists at the
+visionary multitude of cats. “Away with you, up the chimney! Away with
+you, out of the window!” She sprang back to the window, with her crooked
+fingers twisted in her hair! “The snakes!” she shrieked; “the snakes are
+hissing again in my hair! the beetles are crawling over my face!”
+ She tore at her hair; she scraped her face with long black nails that
+lacerated the flesh. Amelius turned away, unable to endure the sight of
+her. Morcross took his place, eyed her steadily for a moment, and saw
+the way to end it. “A quarter of gin!” he shouted. “Quick! before she
+leaves the window!” In a minute he had the pewter measure in his hand,
+and tapped at the window. “Gin, Mother Sowler! Break the window,
+and have a drop of gin!” For a moment, the drunkard mastered her own
+dreadful visions at the sight of the liquor. She broke a pane of
+glass with her clenched fist. “The door!” cried Morcross, to the
+panic-stricken women, barricaded behind the table. “The door!” he
+reiterated, as he handed the gin in through the bars. The elder woman
+was too terrified to understand him; her bolder daughter crawled
+under the table, rushed across the kitchen, and drew the bolts. As the
+madwoman turned to attack her, the room was filled with men, headed by
+the sergeant. Three of them were barely enough to control the frantic
+wretch, and bind her hand and foot. When Amelius entered the kitchen,
+after she had been conveyed to the hospital, a five-pound note on
+the press (secured by one of the police), and a few frail black ashes
+scattered thinly on the kitchen floor, were the only relics left of the
+ill-gotten money.
+
+
+After-inquiry, patiently pursued in more than one direction, failed to
+throw any light on the mystery of Jervy’s death. Morcross’s report to
+Amelius, towards the close of the investigation, was little more than
+ingenious guess-work.
+
+“It seems pretty clear, sir, in the first place, that Mother Sowler must
+have overtaken Wall-Eyes, after he had left the letter at Mrs. Farnaby’s
+lodgings. In the second place, we are justified (as I shall show
+you directly) in assuming that she told him of the money in Jervy’s
+possession, and that the two succeeded in discovering Jervy--no doubt
+through Wall-Eyes’ superior knowledge of his master’s movements.
+The evidence concerning the bank-notes proves this. We know, by the
+examination of the people at the Dairy, that Wall-Eyes took from his
+pocket a handful of notes, when they refused to send for liquor without
+having the money first. We are also informed, that the breaking-out of
+the drink-madness in Mother Sowler showed itself in her snatching the
+notes out of his hand, and trying to strangle him--before she ran down
+into the kitchen and bolted herself in. Lastly, Mrs. Farnaby’s bankers
+have identified the note saved from the burning, as one of forty
+five-pound notes paid to her cheque. So much for the tracing of the
+money.
+
+“I wish I could give an equally satisfactory account of the tracing of
+the crime. We can make nothing of Wall-Eyes. He declares that he didn’t
+even know Jervy was dead, till we told him; and he swears he found
+the money dropped in the street. It is needless to say that this last
+assertion is a lie. Opinions are divided among us as to whether he is
+answerable for the murder as well as the robbery, or whether there was a
+third person concerned in it. My own belief is that Jervy was drugged by
+the old woman (with a young woman very likely used as a decoy), in some
+house by the riverside, and then murdered by Wall-Eyes in cold blood.
+We have done our best to clear the matter up, and we have not succeeded.
+The doctors give us no hope of any assistance from Mother Sowler. If
+she gets over the attack (which is doubtful), they say she will die to
+a certainty of liver disease. In short, my own fear is that this will
+prove to be one more of those murders which are mysteries to the police
+as well as the public.”
+
+The report of the case excited some interest, published in the
+newspapers in conspicuous type. Meddlesome readers wrote letters,
+offering complacently stupid suggestions to the police. After a while,
+another crime attracted general attention; and the murder of Jervy
+disappeared from the public memory, among other forgotten murders of
+modern times.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 5
+
+The last dreary days of November came to their end.
+
+No longer darkened by the shadows of crime and torment and death, the
+life of Amelius glided insensibly into the peaceful byways of seclusion,
+brightened by the companionship of Sally. The winter days followed one
+another in a happy uniformity of occupations and amusements. There were
+lessons to fill up the morning, and walks to occupy the afternoon--and,
+in the evenings, sometimes reading, sometimes singing, sometimes nothing
+but the lazy luxury of talk. In the vast world of London, with its
+monstrous extremes of wealth and poverty, and its all-permeating malady
+of life at fever-heat, there was one supremely innocent and supremely
+happy creature. Sally had heard of Heaven, attainable on the hard
+condition of first paying the debt of death. “I have found a kinder
+Heaven,” she said, one day. “It is here in the cottage; and Amelius has
+shown me the way to it.”
+
+Their social isolation was at this time complete: they were two
+friendless people, perfectly insensible to all that was perilous and
+pitiable in their own position. They parted with a kiss at night, and
+they met again with a kiss in the morning--and they were as happily free
+from all mistrust of the future as a pair of birds. No visitors came to
+the house; the few friends and acquaintances of Amelius, forgotten
+by him, forgot him in return. Now and then, Toff’s wife came to the
+cottage, and exhibited the “cherubim-baby.” Now and then, Toff himself
+(a musician among his other accomplishments) brought his fiddle
+upstairs; and, saying modestly, “A little music helps to pass the time,”
+ played to the young master and mistress the cheerful tinkling tunes
+of the old vaudevilles of France. They were pleased with these small
+interruptions when they came; and they were not disappointed when the
+days passed, and the baby and the vaudevilles were hushed in absence and
+silence. So the happy winter time went by; and the howling winds brought
+no rheumatism with them, and even the tax-gatherer himself, looking
+in at this earthly paradise, departed without a curse when he left his
+little paper behind him.
+
+Now and then, at long intervals, the outer world intruded itself in the
+form of a letter.
+
+Regina wrote, always with the same placid affection; always entering
+into the same minute narrative of the slow progress of “dear uncle’s”
+ return to health. He was forbidden to exert himself in any way. His
+nerves were in a state of lamentable irritability. “I dare not even
+mention your name to him, dear Amelius; it seems, I cannot think why, to
+make him--oh, so unreasonably angry. I can only submit, and pray that
+he may soon be himself again.” Amelius wrote back, always in the same
+considerate and gentle tone; always laying the blame of his dull letters
+on the studious uniformity of his life. He preserved, with a perfectly
+easy conscience, the most absolute silence on the subject of Sally.
+While he was faithful to Regina, what reason had he to reproach himself
+with the protection that he offered to a poor motherless girl? When he
+was married, he might mention the circumstances under which he had met
+with Sally, and leave the rest to his wife’s sympathy.
+
+One morning, the letters with the Paris post-mark were varied by a few
+lines from Rufus.
+
+“Every morning, my bright boy, I get up and say to myself, ‘Well! I
+reckon it’s about time to take the route for London;’ and every morning,
+if you’ll believe me, I put it off till next day. Whether it’s in the
+good feeding (expensive, I admit; but when your cook helps you to digest
+instead of hindering you, a man of my dyspeptic nation is too grateful
+to complain)--or whether it’s in the air, which reminds me, I do assure
+you, of our native atmosphere at Coolspring, Mass., is more than I can
+tell, with a hard steel pen on a leaf of flimsy paper. You have heard
+the saying, ‘When a good American dies, he goes to Paris’. Maybe,
+sometimes, he’s smart enough to discount his own death, and rationally
+enjoy the future time in the present. This you see is a poetic light.
+But, mercy be praised, the moral of my residence in Paris is plain:--If
+I can’t go to Amelius, Amelius must come to me. Note the address Grand
+Hotel; and pack up, like a good boy, on receipt of this. Memorandum: The
+brown Miss is here. I saw her taking the air in a carriage, and raised
+my hat. She looked the other way.
+
+“British--eminently British! But, there, I bear no malice; I am her most
+obedient servant, and yours affectionately, RUFUS.--Postscript: I
+want you to see some of our girls at this hotel. The genuine American
+material, sir, perfected by Worth.”
+
+Another morning brought with it a few sad lines from Phoebe. “After what
+had happened, she was quite unable to face her friends; she had no heart
+to seek employment in her own country--her present life was too dreary
+and too hopeless to be endured. A benevolent lady had made her an offer
+to accompany a party of emigrants to New Zealand; and she had accepted
+the proposal. Perhaps, among the new people, she might recover her
+self-respect and her spirits, and live to be a better woman. Meanwhile,
+she bade Mr. Goldenheart farewell; and asked his pardon for taking the
+liberty of wishing him happy with Miss Regina.”
+
+Amelius wrote a few kind lines to Phoebe, and a cordial reply to Rufus,
+making the pursuit of his studies his excuse for remaining in London.
+After this, there was no further correspondence. The mornings succeeded
+each other, and the postman brought no more news from the world outside.
+
+But the lessons went on; and the teacher and pupil were as
+inconsiderately happy as ever in each other’s society. Observing with
+inexhaustible interest the progress of the mental development of
+Sally, Amelius was slow to perceive the physical development which was
+unobtrusively keeping pace with it. He was absolutely ignorant of the
+part which his own influence was taking in the gradual and delicate
+process of change. Ere long, the first forewarnings of the coming
+disturbance in their harmless relations towards each other, began to
+show themselves. Ere long, there were signs of a troubled mind in Sally,
+which were mysteries to Amelius, and subjects of wonderment, sometimes
+even trials of temper, to the girl herself.
+
+One day, she looked in from the door of her room, in her white
+dressing-gown, and asked to be forgiven if she kept the lessons of the
+morning waiting for a little while.
+
+“Come in,” said Amelius, “and tell me why.”
+
+She hesitated. “You won’t think me lazy, if you see me in my
+dressing-gown?”
+
+“Of course not! Your dressing-gown, my dear, is as good as any other
+gown. A young girl like you looks best in white.”
+
+She came in with her work-basket, and her indoor dress over her arm.
+
+Amelius laughed. “Why haven’t you put it on?” he asked.
+
+She sat down in a corner, and looked at her work-basket, instead of
+looking at Amelius. “It doesn’t fit me so well as it did,” she answered.
+“I am obliged to alter it.”
+
+Amelius looked at her--at the charming youthful figure that had filled
+out, at the softly-rounded outline of the face with no angles and
+hollows in it now. “Is it the dressmaker’s fault?” he asked slyly.
+
+Her eyes were still on the basket. “It’s my fault,” she said. “You
+remember what a poor little skinny creature I was, when you first saw
+me. I--you won’t like me the worse for it, will you?--I am getting fat.
+I don’t know why. They say happy people get fat. Perhaps that’s why.
+I’m never hungry, and never frightened, and never miserable now--” She
+stopped; her dress slipped from her lap to the floor. “Don’t look at
+me!” she said--and suddenly put her hands over her face.
+
+Amelius saw the tears finding their way through the pretty plump
+fingers, which he remembered so shapeless and so thin. He crossed the
+room, and touched her gently on the shoulder. “My dear child! have I
+said anything to distress you?”
+
+“Nothing.”
+
+“Then why are you crying?”
+
+“I don’t know.” She hesitated; looked at him; and made a desperate
+effort to tell him what was in her mind. “I’m afraid you’ll get tired
+of me. There’s nothing about me to make you pity me now. You seem to
+be--not quite the same--no! it isn’t that--I don’t know what’s come to
+me--I’m a greater fool than ever. Give me my lesson, Amelius! please
+give me my lesson!”
+
+Amelius produced the books, in some little surprise at Sally’s
+extraordinary anxiety to begin her lessons, while the unaltered dress
+lay neglected on the carpet at her feet. A discreet abstract of the
+history of England, published for the use of young persons, happened
+to be at the top of the books. The system of education under Amelius
+recognized the laws of chance: they began with the history, because it
+turned up first. Sally read aloud; and Sally’s master explained obscure
+passages, and corrected occasional errors of pronunciation, as she went
+on. On that particular morning, there was little to explain and nothing
+to correct. “Am I doing it well today?” Sally inquired, on reaching the
+end of her task.
+
+“Very well, indeed.”
+
+She shut the book, and looked at her teacher. “I wonder how it is,” she
+resumed, “that I get on so much better with my lessons here than I did
+at the Home? And yet it’s foolish of me to wonder. I get on better,
+because you are teaching me, of course. But I don’t feel satisfied with
+myself. I’m the same helpless creature--I feel your kindness, and can’t
+make any return to you--for all my learning. I should like--” She left
+the thought in her unexpressed, and opened her copy-book. “I’ll do my
+writing now,” she said, in a quiet resigned way. “Perhaps I may improve
+enough, some day, to keep your accounts for you.” She chose her pen a
+little absently, and began to write. Amelius looked over her shoulder,
+and laughed; she was writing his name. He pointed to the copper-plate
+copy on the top line, presenting an undeniable moral maxim, in
+characters beyond the reach of criticism:--Change Is A Law Of Nature.
+“There, my dear, you are to copy that till you’re tired of it,” said the
+easy master; “and then we’ll try overleaf, another copy beginning with
+letter D.”
+
+Sally laid down her pen. “I don’t like ‘Change is a law of Nature’,”
+ she said, knitting her pretty eyebrows into a frown. “I looked at those
+words yesterday, and they made me miserable at night. I was foolish
+enough to think that we should always go on together as we go on now,
+till I saw that copy. I hate the copy! It came to my mind when I was
+awake in the dark, and it seemed to tell me that _we_ were going to
+change some day. That’s the worst of learning--one knows too much, and
+then there’s an end of one’s happiness. Thoughts come to you, when you
+don’t want them. I thought of the young lady we saw last week in the
+park.”
+
+She spoke gravely and sadly. The bright contentment which had given a
+new charm to her eyes since she had been at the cottage, died out of
+them as Amelius looked at her. What had become of her childish manner
+and her artless smile? He drew his chair nearer to her. “What young lady
+do you mean?” he asked.
+
+Sally shook her head, and traced lines with her pen on the blotting
+paper. “Oh, you can’t have forgotten her! A young lady, riding on a
+grand white horse. All the people were admiring her. I wonder you cared
+to look at me, after that beautiful creature had gone by. Ah, she knows
+all sorts of things that I don’t--_she_ doesn’t sound a note at a time
+on the piano, and as often as not the wrong one; _she_ can say her
+multiplication table, and knows all the cities in the world. I dare say
+she’s almost as learned as you are. If you had her living here with you,
+wouldn’t you like it better than only having me!” She dropped her arms
+on the table, and laid her head on them wearily. “The dreadful streets!”
+ she murmured, in low tones of despair. “Why did I think of the dreadful
+streets, and the night I met with you--after I had seen the young lady?
+Oh, Amelius, are you tired of me? are you ashamed of me?” She lifted her
+head again, before he could answer, and controlled herself by a sudden
+effort of resolution. “I don’t know what’s the matter with me this
+morning,” she said, looking at him with a pleading fear in her eyes.
+“Never mind my nonsense--I’ll do the copy!” She began to write the
+unendurable assertion that change is a law of Nature, with trembling
+fingers and fast heaving breath. Amelius took the pen gently out of her
+hand. His voice faltered as he spoke to her.
+
+“We will give up the lessons for today, Sally. You have had a bad
+night’s rest, my dear, and you are feeling it--that’s all. Do you think
+you are well enough to come out with me, and try if the air will revive
+you a little?”
+
+She rose, and took his hand, and kissed it. “I believe, if I was dying,
+I should get well enough to go out with you! May I ask one little
+favour? Do you mind if we don’t go into the park today?”
+
+“What has made you take a dislike to the park, Sally?”
+
+“We might meet the beautiful young lady again,” she answered, with her
+head down. “I don’t want to do that.”
+
+“We will go wherever you like, my child. You shall decide--not I.”
+
+She gathered up her dress from the floor, and hurried away to her
+room--without looking back at him as usual when she opened the door.
+
+Left by himself, Amelius sat at the table, mechanically turning over the
+lesson-books. Sally had perplexed and even distressed him. His capacity
+to preserve the harmless relations between them, depended mainly on the
+mute appeal which the girl’s ignorant innocence unconsciously addressed
+to him. He felt this vaguely, without absolutely realizing it. By some
+mysterious process of association which he was unable to follow, a
+saying of the wise Elder Brother at Tadmor revived in his memory, while
+he was trying to see his way through the difficulties that beset him.
+“You will meet with many temptations, Amelius, when you leave our
+Community,” the old man had said at parting; “and most of them will come
+to you through women. Be especially on your guard, my son, if you meet
+with a woman who makes you feel truly sorry for her. She is on
+the high-road to your passions, through the open door of your
+sympathies--and all the more certainly if she is not aware of it
+herself.” Amelius felt the truth expressed in those words as he had
+never felt it yet. There had been signs of a changing nature in Sally
+for some little time past. But they had expressed themselves too
+delicately to attract the attention of a man unprepared to be on the
+watch. Only on that morning, they had been marked enough to force
+themselves on his notice. Only on that morning, she had looked at him,
+and spoken to him, as she had never looked or spoken before. He began
+dimly to see the danger for both of them, to which he had shut his eyes
+thus far. Where was the remedy? what ought he to do? Those questions
+came naturally into his mind--and yet, his mind shrank from pursuing
+them.
+
+He got up impatiently, and busied himself in putting away the
+lesson-books--a small duty hitherto always left to Toff.
+
+It was useless; his mind dwelt persistently on Sally.
+
+While he moved about the room, he still saw the look in her eyes, he
+still heard the tone of her voice, when she spoke of the young lady in
+the park. The words of the good physician whom he had consulted about
+her recurred to his memory now. “The natural growth of her senses
+has been stunted, like the natural growth of her body, by starvation,
+terror, exposure to cold, and other influences inherent in the life that
+she has led.” And then the doctor had spoken of nourishing food, pure
+air, and careful treatment--of the life, in short, which she had led
+at the cottage--and had predicted that she would develop into “an
+intelligent and healthy young woman.” Again he asked himself, “What
+ought I to do?”
+
+He turned aside to the window, and looked out. An idea occurred to him.
+How would it be, if he summoned courage enough to tell her that he was
+engaged to be married?
+
+No! Setting aside his natural dread of the shock that he might inflict
+on the poor grateful girl who had only known happiness under his care,
+the detestable obstacle of Mr. Farnaby stood immovably in his way. Sally
+would be sure to ask questions about his engagement, and would never
+rest until they were answered. It had been necessarily impossible to
+conceal her mother’s name from her. The discovery of her father, if she
+heard of Regina and Regina’s uncle, would be simply a question of time.
+What might such a man be not capable of doing, what new act of treachery
+might he not commit, if he found himself claimed by the daughter whom he
+had deserted? Even if the expression of Mrs. Farnaby’s last wishes had
+not been sacred to Amelius, this consideration alone would have kept him
+silent, for Sally’s sake.
+
+He now doubted for the first time if he had calculated wisely in
+planning to trust Sally’s sad story, after his marriage, to the
+sympathies of his wife. The jealousy that she might naturally feel of
+a young girl, who was an object of interest to her husband, did not
+present the worst difficulty to contend with. She believed in her
+uncle’s integrity as she believed in her religion. What would she say,
+what would she do, if the innocent witness to Farnaby’s infamy was
+presented to her; if Amelius asked the protection for Sally which her
+own father had refused to her in her infancy; and if he said, as he must
+say, “Your uncle is the man”?
+
+And yet, what prospect could he see but the prospect of making the
+disclosure when he looked to his own interests next, and thought of his
+wedding day? Again the sinister figure of Farnaby confronted him. How
+could he receive the wretch whom Regina would innocently welcome to the
+house? There would be no longer a choice left; it would be his duty
+to himself to tell his wife the terrible truth. And what would be the
+result? He recalled the whole course of his courtship, and saw Farnaby
+always on a level with himself in Regina’s estimation. In spite of his
+natural cheerfulness, in spite of his inbred courage, his heart failed
+him, when he thought of the time to come.
+
+As he turned away from the window, Sally’s door opened: she joined him,
+ready for the walk. Her spirits had rallied, assisted by the cheering
+influence of dressing to go out. Her charming smile brightened her face.
+In sheer desperation, reckless of what he did or said, Amelius held
+out both hands to welcome her. “That’s right, Sally!” he cried. “Look
+pleased and pretty, my dear; let’s be happy while we can--and let the
+future take care of itself!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 6
+
+The capricious influences which combine to make us happy are never so
+certain to be absent influences as when we are foolish enough to talk
+about them. Amelius had talked about them. When he and Sally left the
+cottage, the road which led them away from the park was also the road
+which led them past a church. The influences of happiness left them at
+the church door.
+
+Rows of carriages were in waiting; hundreds of idle people were
+assembled about the church steps; the thunderous music of the organ
+rolled out through the open doors--a grand wedding, with choral service,
+was in course of celebration. Sally begged Amelius to take her in to
+see it. They tried the front entrance, and found it impossible to get
+through the crowd. A side entrance, and a fee to a verger, succeeded
+better. They obtained space enough to stand on, with a view of the
+altar.
+
+The bride was a tall buxom girl, splendidly dressed: she performed her
+part in the ceremony with the most unruffled composure. The bridegroom
+exhibited an instructive spectacle of aged Nature, sustained by Art.
+His hair, his complexion, his teeth, his breast, his shoulders, and his
+legs, showed what the wig-maker, the valet, the dentist, the tailor, and
+the hosier can do for a rich old man, who wishes to present a juvenile
+appearance while he is buying a young wife. No less than three
+clergymen were present, conducting the sale. The demeanour of the rich
+congregation was worthy of the glorious bygone days of the Golden Calf.
+So far as could be judged by appearances, one old lady, in a pew close
+to the place at which Amelius and Sally were standing, seemed to be the
+only person present who was not favourably impressed by the ceremony.
+
+“I call it disgraceful,” the old lady remarked to a charming young
+person seated next to her.
+
+But the charming young person--being the legitimate product of the
+present time--had no more sympathy with questions of sentiment than
+a Hottentot. “How can you talk so, grandmamma!” she rejoined. “He has
+twenty thousand a year--and that lucky girl will be mistress of the most
+splendid house in London.”
+
+“I don’t care,” the old lady persisted; “it’s not the less a disgrace
+to everybody concerned in it. There is many a poor friendless creature,
+driven by hunger to the streets, who has a better claim to our sympathy
+than that shameless girl, selling herself in the house of God! I’ll wait
+for you in the carriage--I won’t see any more of it.”
+
+Sally touched Amelius. “Take me out!” she whispered faintly.
+
+He supposed that the heat in the church had been too much for her. “Are
+you better now?” he asked, when they got into the open air.
+
+She held fast by his arm. “Let’s get farther away,” she said. “That lady
+is coming after us--I don’t want her to see me again. I am one of the
+creatures she talked about. Is the mark of the streets on me, after all
+you have done to rub it out?”
+
+The wild misery in her words presented another development in her
+character which was entirely new to Amelius. “My dear child,” he
+remonstrated, “you distress me when you talk in that way. God knows the
+life you are leading now.”
+
+But Sally’s mind was still full of its own acutely painful sense of what
+the lady had said. “I saw her,” she burst out--“I saw her look at me
+while she spoke!”
+
+“And she thought you better worth looking at than the bride--and quite
+right, too!” Amelius rejoined. “Come, come, Sally, be like yourself. You
+don’t want to make me unhappy about you, I am sure?”
+
+He had taken the right way with her: she felt that simple appeal, and
+asked his pardon with all the old charm in her manner and her voice.
+For the moment, she was “Simple Sally” again. They walked on in silence.
+When they had lost sight of the church, Amelius felt her hand beginning
+to tremble on his arm. A mingled expression of tenderness and anxiety
+showed itself in her blue eyes as they looked up at him. “I am thinking
+of something else now,” she said; “I am thinking of You. May I ask you
+something?”
+
+Amelius smiled. The smile was not reflected as usual in Sally’s face.
+“It’s nothing particular,” she explained in an odd hurried way; “the
+church put it into my head. You--” She hesitated, and tried it under
+another form. “Will you be married yourself, Amelius, one of these
+days?”
+
+He did his best to evade the question. “I am not rich, Sally, like the
+old gentleman we have just seen.”
+
+Her eyes turned away from him; she sighed softly to herself. “You will
+be married some day,” she said. “Will you do one kind thing more for me,
+Amelius, when I die? You remember my reading in the newspaper of the new
+invention for burning the dead--and my asking you about it. You said
+you thought it was better than burying, and you had a good mind to leave
+directions to be burnt instead of buried, when your time came. When _my_
+time has come, will you leave other directions about yourself, if I ask
+you?”
+
+“My dear, you are talking in a very strange way! If you will have it
+that I am to be married some day, what has that to do with your death?”
+
+“It doesn’t matter, Amelius. When I have nothing left to live for, I
+suppose it’s as likely as not I may die. Will you tell them to bury me
+in some quiet place, away from London, where there are very few graves?
+And when you leave your directions, don’t say you are to be burnt.
+Say--when you have lived a long, long life, and enjoyed all the
+happiness you have deserved so well--say you are to be buried, and
+your grave is to be near mine. I should like to think of the same trees
+shading us, and the same flowers growing over us. No! don’t tell me I’m
+talking strangely again--I can’t bear it; I want you to humour me and
+be kind to me about this. Do you mind going home? I’m feeling a little
+tired--and I know I’m poor company for you today.”
+
+The talk flagged at dinner-time, though Toff did his best to keep it
+going.
+
+In the evening, the excellent Frenchman made an effort to cheer the two
+dull young people. He came in confidentially with his fiddle, and
+said he had a favour to ask. “I possess some knowledge, sir, of the
+delightful art of dancing. Might I teach young Miss to dance? You see,
+if I may venture to say so, the other lessons--oh, most useful, most
+important, the other lessons! but they are just a little serious.
+Something to relieve her mind, sir--if you will forgive me for
+mentioning it. I plead for innocent gaiety--let us dance!”
+
+He played a few notes on the fiddle, and placed his right foot in
+position, and waited amiably to begin. Sally thanked him, and made
+the excuse that she was tired. She wished Amelius good night, without
+waiting until they were alone together--and, for the first time, without
+giving him the customary kiss.
+
+Toff waited until she had gone, and approached his master on tiptoe,
+with a low bow.
+
+“May I take the liberty of expressing an opinion, sir. A young girl who
+rejects the remedy of the fiddle presents a case of extreme gravity.
+Don’t despair, sir! It is my pride and pleasure to be never at a loss,
+where your interests are concerned. This is, I think, a matter for the
+ministrations of a woman. If you have confidence in my wife, I venture
+to suggest a visit from Madame Toff.”
+
+He discreetly retired, and left his master to think about it.
+
+The time passed--and Amelius was still thinking, and still as far as
+ever from arriving at a conclusion, when he heard a door opened behind
+him. Sally crossed the room before he could rise from his chair: her
+cheeks were flushed, her eyes were bright, her hair fell loose over her
+shoulders--she dropped at his feet, and hid her face on his knees. “I’m
+an ungrateful wretch!” she burst out; “I never kissed you when I said
+good night.”
+
+With the best intentions, Amelius took the worst possible way of
+composing her--he treated her trouble lightly. “Perhaps you forgot it?”
+ he said.
+
+She lifted her head, and looked at him, with the tears in her eyes. “I’m
+bad enough,” she answered; “but not so bad as that. Oh, don’t laugh!
+there’s nothing to laugh at. Have you done with liking me? Are you angry
+with me for behaving so badly all day, and bidding you good night as if
+you were Toff? You shan’t be angry with me!” She jumped up, and sat on
+his knee, and put her arms round his neck. “I haven’t been to bed,” she
+whispered; “I was too miserable to go to sleep. I don’t know what’s been
+the matter with me today. I seem to be losing the little sense I ever
+had. Oh, if I could only make you understand how fond I am of you! And
+yet I’ve had bitter thoughts, as if I was a burden to you, and I had
+done a wrong thing in coming here--and you would have told me so, only
+you pitied the poor wretch who had nowhere else to go.” She tightened
+her hold round his neck, and laid her burning cheek against his face.
+“Oh, Amelius, my heart is sore! Kiss me, and say, ‘Good night, Sally!’”
+
+He was young--he was a man--for a moment he lost his self control; he
+kissed her as he had never kissed her yet.
+
+Then, he remembered; he recovered himself; he put her gently away
+from him, and led her to the door of her room, and closed it on her in
+silence. For a little while, he waited alone. The interval over, he rang
+for Toff.
+
+“Do you think your wife would take Miss Sally as an apprentice?” he
+asked.
+
+Toff looked astonished. “Whatever you wish, sir, my wife will do. Her
+knowledge of the art of dressmaking is--” Words failed him to express
+his wife’s immense capacity as a dressmaker. He kissed his hand in
+mute enthusiasm, and blew the kiss in the direction of Madame Toff’s
+establishment. “However,” he proceeded, “I ought to tell you one thing,
+sir; the business is small, small, very small. But we are all in the
+hands of Providence--the business will improve, one day.” He lifted his
+shoulders and lifted his eyebrows, and looked perfectly satisfied with
+his wife’s prospects.
+
+“I will go and speak to Madame Toff myself, tomorrow morning,” Amelius
+resumed. “It’s quite possible that I may be obliged to leave London for
+a little while--and I must provide in some way for Miss Sally. Don’t
+say a word about it to her yet, Toff, and don’t look miserable. If I go
+away, I shall take you with me. Good night.”
+
+Toff, with his handkerchief halfway to his eyes, recovered his native
+cheerfulness. “I am invariably sick at sea, sir,” he said; “but, no
+matter, I will attend you to the uttermost ends of the earth.”
+
+So honest Amelius planned his way of escape from the critical position
+in which he found himself. He went to his bed, troubled by anxieties
+which kept him waking for many weary hours. Where was he to go to, when
+he left Sally? If he could have known what had happened, on that very
+day, on the other side of the Channel, he might have decided (in spite
+of the obstacle of Mr. Farnaby) on surprising Regina by a visit to
+Paris.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 7
+
+On the morning when Amelius and Sally (in London) entered the church to
+look at the wedding. Rufus (in Paris) went to the Champs Elysees to take
+a walk.
+
+He had advanced half-way up the magnificent avenue, when he saw Regina
+for the second time, taking her daily drive, with an elderly woman in
+attendance on her. Rufus took off his hat again, perfectly impenetrable
+to the cold reception which he had already experienced. Greatly to his
+surprise, Regina not only returned his salute, but stopped the carriage
+and beckoned to him to speak to her. Looking at her more closely, he
+perceived signs of suffering in her face which completely altered her
+expression as he remembered it. Her magnificent eyes were dim and red;
+she had lost her rich colour; her voice trembled as she spoke to him.
+
+“Have you a few minutes to spare?” she asked.
+
+“The whole day, if you like, Miss,” Rufus answered.
+
+She turned to the woman who accompanied her. “Wait here for me,
+Elizabeth; I have something to say to this gentleman.”
+
+With those words, she got out of the carriage. Rufus offered her his
+arm. She put her hand in it as readily as if they had been old friends.
+“Let us take one of the side paths,” she said; “they are almost deserted
+at this time of day. I am afraid I surprise you very much. I can only
+trust to your kindness to forgive me for passing you without notice
+the last time we met. Perhaps it may be some excuse for me that I am in
+great trouble. It is just possible you may be able to relieve my mind. I
+believe you know I am engaged to be married?”
+
+Rufus looked at her with a sudden expression of interest. “Is this about
+Amelius?” he asked.
+
+She answered him almost inaudibly--“Yes.”
+
+Rufus still kept his eyes fixed on her. “I don’t wish to say anything,
+Miss,” he explained; “but, if you have any complaint to make of Amelius,
+I should take it as a favour if you would look me straight in the face,
+and mention it plainly.”
+
+In the embarrassment which troubled Regina at that moment, he had
+preferred the two requests of all others with which it was most
+impossible for her to comply. She still looked obstinately on the
+ground; and, instead of speaking of Amelius, she diverged to the subject
+of Mr. Farnaby’s illness.
+
+“I am staying in Paris with my uncle,” she said. “He has had a long
+illness; but he is strong enough now to speak to me of things that have
+been on his mind for some time past. He has so surprised me; he has made
+me so miserable about Amelius--” She paused, and put her handkerchief
+to her eyes. Rufus said nothing to console her--he waited doggedly until
+she was ready to go on. “You know Amelius well,” she resumed; “you are
+fond of him; you believe in him, don’t you? Do you think he is capable
+of behaving basely to any person who trusts him? Is it likely, is it
+possible, he could be false and cruel to Me?”
+
+The mere question roused the indignation of Rufus. “Whoever said that of
+him, Miss, told you a lie! I answer for my boy as I answer for myself.”
+
+She looked at him at last, with a sudden expression of relief. “I said
+so too,” she rejoined; “I said some enemy had slandered him. My uncle
+won’t tell me who it is. He positively forbids me to write to Amelius;
+he tells me I must never see Amelius again--he is going to write and
+break off the engagement. Oh, it’s too cruel! too cruel!”
+
+Thus far they had been walking on slowly. But now Rufus stopped,
+determined to make her speak plainly.
+
+“Take a word of advice from me, Miss,” he said. “Never trust anybody by
+halves. There’s nothing I’m not ready to do, to set this matter right;
+but I must know what I’m about first. What’s said against Amelius? Out
+with it, no matter what ‘tis! I’m old enough to be your father; and I
+feel for you accordingly--I do.”
+
+The thorough sincerity of tone and manner which accompanied those words
+had its effect. Regina blushed and trembled--but she spoke out.
+
+“My uncle says Amelius has disgraced himself, and insulted me; my uncle
+says there is a person--a girl living with him--” She stopped, with a
+faint cry of alarm. Her hand, still testing on the arm of Rufus, felt
+him start as the allusion to the girl passed her lips. “You have heard
+of it!” she cried. “Oh, God help me, it’s true!”
+
+“True?” Rufus repeated, with stern contempt. “What’s come to you?
+Haven’t I told you already, it’s a lie? I’ll answer to it, Amelius is
+true to you. Will that do? No? You’re an obstinate one, Miss--that you
+are. Well! it’s due to the boy that I should set him right with you, if
+words will do it. You know how he’s been brought up at Tadmor? Bear
+that in mind--and now you shall have the truth of it, on the word of an
+honest man.”
+
+Without further preface, he told her how Amelius had met with Sally,
+insisting strongly on the motives of pure humanity by which his friend
+had been actuated. Regina listened with an obstinate expression of
+distrust which would have discouraged most men. Rufus persisted,
+nevertheless; and, to some extent at least, succeeded in producing the
+right impression. When he reached the close of the narrative--when he
+asserted that he had himself seen Amelius confide the girl unreservedly
+to the care of a lady who was a dear and valued friend of his own; and
+when he declared that there had been no after-meeting between them and
+no written correspondence--then, at last, Regina owned that he had not
+encouraged her to trust in the honour of Amelius, without reason to
+justify him. But, even under these circumstances, there was a residue of
+suspicion still left in her mind. She asked for the name of the lady to
+whose benevolent assistance Amelius had been indebted. Rufus took out
+one of his cards, and wrote Mrs. Payson’s name and address on it.
+
+“Your nature, my dear, is not quite so confiding as I could have wished
+to see it,” he said, quietly handing her the card. “But we can’t change
+our natures--can we? And you’re not bound to believe a man like me,
+without witnesses to back him. Write to Mrs. Payson, and make your mind
+easy. And, while we are about it, tell me where I can telegraph to you
+tomorrow--I’m off to London by the night mail.”
+
+“Do you mean, you are going to see Amelius?
+
+“That is so. I’m too fond of Amelius to let this trouble rest where ‘tis
+now. I’ve been away from him, here in Paris, for some little time--and
+you may tell me (and quite right, too) I can’t answer for what may have
+been going on in my absence. No! now we are about it, we’ll have it out.
+I mean to see Amelius and see Mrs. Payson, tomorrow morning. Just tell
+your uncle to hold his hand, before he breaks off your marriage, and
+wait for a telegram from me. Well? and this is your address, is it?
+I know the hotel. A nice look-out on the Twillery Gardens--but a bad
+cellar of wine, as I hear. I’m at the Grand Hotel myself, if there’s
+anything else that troubles you before evening. Now I look at you again,
+I reckon there’s something more to be said, if you’ll only let it find
+its way to your tongue. No; it ain’t thanks. We’ll take the gratitude
+for granted, and get to what’s behind it. There’s your carriage--and the
+good lady looks tired of waiting. Well, now?”
+
+“It’s only one thing,” Regina acknowledged, with her eyes on the ground
+again. “Perhaps, when you go to London, you may see the--”
+
+“The girl?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“It’s not likely. Say I do see her--what then?”
+
+Regina’s colour began to show itself again. “If you do see her,” she
+said, “I beg and entreat you won’t speak of _me_ in her hearing. I
+should die of the shame of it, if she thought herself asked to give him
+up out of pity for me. Promise I am not to be brought forward; promise
+you won’t even mention my having spoken to you about it. On your word of
+honour!”
+
+Rufus gave her his promise, without showing any hesitation, or making
+any remark. But when she shook hands with him, on returning to the
+carriage, he held her hand for a moment. “Please to excuse me, Miss, if
+I ask one question,” he said, in tones too low to be heard by any other
+person. “Are you really fond of Amelius?”
+
+“I am surprised you should doubt it,” she answered; “I am more--much
+more than fond of him!”
+
+Rufus handed her silently into the carriage, “Fond of him, are you?” he
+thought, as he walked away by himself. “I reckon it’s a sort of fondness
+that don’t wear well, and won’t stand washing.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 8
+
+Early the next morning, Rufus rang at the cottage gate.
+
+“Well, Mr. Frenchman, and how do _you_ git along? And how’s Amelius?”
+
+Toff, standing before the gate, answered with the utmost respect, but
+showed no inclination to let the visitor in.
+
+“Amelius has his intervals of laziness,” Rufus proceeded; “I bet he’s in
+bed!”
+
+“My young master was up and dressed an hour ago, sir--he has just gone
+out.”
+
+“That is so, is it? Well, I’ll wait till he comes back.” He pushed by
+Toff, and walked into the cottage. “Your foreign ceremonies are clean
+thrown away on me,” he said, as Toff tried to stop him in the hall. “I’m
+the American savage; and I’m used up with travelling all night. Here’s
+a little order for you: whisky, bitters, lemon, and ice--I’ll take a
+cocktail in the library.”
+
+Toff made a last desperate effort to get between the visitor and
+the door. “I beg your pardon, sir, a thousand times; I must most
+respectfully entreat you to wait--”
+
+Before he could explain himself, Rufus, with the most perfect good
+humour, pulled the old man out of his way. “What’s troubling this
+venerable creature’s mind--” he inquired of himself, “does he think I
+don’t know my way in?”
+
+He opened the library door--and found himself face to face with Sally.
+She had risen from her chair, hearing voices outside, and hesitating
+whether to leave the room or not. They confronted each other, on either
+side of the table, in silent dismay. For once Rufus was so completely
+bewildered, that he took refuge in his customary form of greeting before
+he was aware of it himself.
+
+“How do you find yourself, Miss? I take pleasure in renewing our
+acquaintance,--Thunder! that’s not it; I reckon I’m off my head. Do me
+the favour, young woman, to forget every word I’ve said to you. If any
+mortal creature had told me I should find you here, I should have said
+‘twas a lie--and I should have been the liar. That makes a man feel
+bad, I can tell you. No! don’t slide off, if you please, into the next
+room--_that_ won’t set things right, nohow. Sit you down again. Now I’m
+here, I have something to say. I’ll speak first to Mr. Frenchman. Listen
+to this, old sir. If I happen to want a witness standing in the doorway,
+I’ll ring the bell; for the present I can do without you. Bong Shewer,
+as we say in your country.” He proceeded to shut the door on Toff and
+his remonstrances.
+
+“I protest, sir, against acts of violence, unworthy of a gentleman!”
+ cried Toff, struggling to get back again.
+
+“Be as angry as you please in the kitchen,” Rufus answered, persisting
+in closing the door; “I won’t have a noise up here. If you know where
+your master is, go and fetch him--and the sooner the better.” He turned
+back to Sally, and surveyed her for a while in terrible silence. She
+was afraid to look at him; her eyes were on the book which she had been
+reading when he came in. “You look to me,” Rufus remarked, “as if you
+had been settled here for a time. Never mind your book now; you can go
+back to your reading after we’ve had a word or two together first.” He
+reached out his long arm, and pulled the book to his own side of the
+table. Sally innocently silenced him for the second time. He opened the
+book, and discovered--the New Testament.
+
+“It’s my lesson, if you please, sir. I’m to learn it where the pencil
+mark is, before Amelius comes back.” She offered her poor little
+explanation, trembling with terror. In spite of himself, Rufus began to
+look at her less sternly.
+
+“So you call him ‘Amelius’, do you?” he said. “I note that, Miss, as an
+unfavourable sign to begin with. How long, if you please, has Amelius
+turned schoolmarm, for your young ladyship’s benefit? Don’t you
+understand? Well, you’re not the only inhabitant of Great Britain who
+don’t understand the English language. I’ll put it plainer. When I last
+saw Amelius, you were learning your lessons at the Home. What ill wind,
+Miss, blew you in here? Did Amelius fetch you, or did you come of your
+own accord, without waiting to be whistled for?” He spoke coarsely but
+not ill-humouredly. Sally’s pretty downcast face was pleading with him
+for mercy, and (as he felt, with supreme contempt for himself) was not
+altogether pleading in vain. “If I guessed that you ran away from the
+home,” he resumed, “should I guess right?”
+
+She answered with a sudden accession of confidence. “Don’t blame
+Amelius,” she said; “I did run away. I couldn’t live without him.”
+
+“You don’t know how you can live, young one, till you’ve tried the
+experiment. Well, and what did they do at the Home? Did they send after
+you, to fetch you back?”
+
+“They wouldn’t take me back--they sent my clothes here after me.”
+
+“Ah, those were the rules, I reckon. I begin to see my way to the end of
+it now. Amelius gave you house-room?”
+
+She looked at him proudly. “He gave me a room of my own,” she said.
+
+His next question was the exact repetition of the question which he
+had put to Regina in Paris. The only variety was in the answer that he
+received.
+
+“Are you fond of Amelius?”
+
+“I would die for him!”
+
+Rufus had hitherto spoken, standing. He now took a chair.
+
+“If Amelius had not been brought up at Tadmor,” he said, “I should take
+my hat, and wish you good morning. As things are, a word more may be a
+word in season. Your lessons here seem to have agreed with you, Miss.
+You’re a different sort of girl to what you were when I last saw you.”
+
+She surprised him by receiving that remark in silence. The colour left
+her face. She sighed bitterly. The sigh puzzled Rufus: he held his
+opinion of her in suspense, until he had heard more.
+
+“You said just now you would die for Amelius,” he went on, eyeing her
+attentively. “I take that to be a woman’s hysterical way of mentioning
+that she feels interest in Amelius. Are you fond enough of him to leave
+him, if you could only be persuaded that leaving him was for his good?”
+
+She abruptly left the table, and went to the window. When her back was
+turned to Rufus, she spoke. “Am I a disgrace to him?” she asked, in
+tones so faint that he could barely hear them. “I have had my fears of
+it, before now.”
+
+If he had been less fond of Amelius, his natural kindness of heart might
+have kept him silent. Even as it was, he made no direct reply. “You
+remember how you were living when Amelius first met with you?” was all
+he said.
+
+The sad blue eyes looked at him in patient sorrow; the low sweet voice
+answered--“Yes.” Only a look and a word--only the influence of an
+instant--and, in that instant, Rufus’s last doubts of her vanished!
+
+“Don’t think I say it reproachfully, my child! I know it was not your
+fault; I know you are to be pitied, and not blamed.”
+
+She turned her face towards him--pale, quiet, and resigned. “Pitied, and
+not blamed,” she repeated. “Am I to be forgiven?”
+
+He shrank from answering her. There was silence.
+
+“You said just now,” she went on, “that I looked like a different girl,
+since you last saw me. I _am_ a different girl. I think of things that
+I never thought of before--some change, I don’t know what, has come over
+me. Oh, my heart does hunger so to be good! I do so long to deserve what
+Amelius has done for me! You have got my book there--Amelius gave it
+to me; we read in it every day. If Christ had been on earth now, is it
+wrong to think that Christ would have forgiven me?”
+
+“No, my dear; it’s right to think so.”
+
+“And, while I live, if I do my best to lead a good life, and if my last
+prayer to God is to take me to heaven, shall I be heard?”
+
+“You will be heard, my child, I don’t doubt it. But, you see, you have
+got the world about you to reckon with--and the world has invented
+a religion of its own. There’s no use looking for it in this book of
+yours. It’s a religion with the pride of property at the bottom of it,
+and a veneer of benevolent sentiment at the top. It will be very
+sorry for you, and very charitable towards you: in short, it will do
+everything for you except taking you back again.”
+
+She had her answer to that. “Amelius has taken me back again,” she said.
+
+“Amelius has taken you back again,” Rufus agreed. “But there’s one thing
+he’s forgotten to do; he has forgotten to count the cost. It seems to
+be left to me to do that. Look here, my girl! I own I doubted you when I
+first came into this room; and I’m sorry for it, and I beg your pardon.
+I do believe you’re a good girl--I couldn’t say why if I was asked, but
+I do believe it for all that. I wish there was no more to be said--but
+there is more; and neither you nor I must shirk it. Public opinion won’t
+deal as tenderly with you as I do; public opinion will make the worst
+of you, and the worst of Amelius. While you’re living here with
+him--there’s no disguising it--you’re innocently in the way of the boy’s
+prospects in life. I don’t know whether you understand me?”
+
+She had turned away from him; she was looking out of the window once
+more.
+
+“I understand you,” she answered. “On the night when Amelius met with
+me, he did wrong to take me away with him. He ought to have left me
+where I was.”
+
+“Wait a bit! that’s as far from my meaning as far can be. There’s a
+look-out for everybody; and, if you’ll trust me, I’ll find a look-out
+for _you.”_
+
+She paid no heed to what he said: her next words showed that she was
+pursuing her own train of thought.
+
+“I am in the way of his prospects in life,” she resumed. “You mean that
+he might be married some day, but for me?”
+
+Rufus admitted it cautiously. “The thing might happen,” was all he said.
+
+“And his friends might come and see him,” she went on; her face still
+turned away, and her voice sinking into dull subdued tones. “Nobody
+comes here now. You see I understand you. When shall I go away? I had
+better not say good-bye, I suppose?--it would only distress him. I could
+slip out of the house, couldn’t I?”
+
+Rufus began to feel uneasy. He was prepared for tears--but not for such
+resignation as this. After a little hesitation, he joined her at the
+window. She never turned towards him; she still looked out straight
+before her; her bright young face had turned pitiably rigid and pale. He
+spoke to her very gently; advising her to think of what he had said, and
+to do nothing in a hurry. She knew the hotel at which he stayed when he
+was in London; and she could write to him there. If she decided to begin
+a new life in another country, he was wholly and truly at her service.
+He would provide a passage for her in the same ship that took him back
+to America. At his age, and known as he was in his own neighbourhood,
+there would be no scandal to fear. He could get her reputably and
+profitably employed, in work which a young girl might undertake. “I’ll
+be as good as a father to you, my poor child,” he said, “don’t think
+you’re going to be friendless, if you leave Amelius. I’ll see to that!
+You shall have honest people about you--and innocent pleasure in your
+new life.”
+
+She thanked him, still with the same dull tearless resignation. “What
+will the honest people say,” she asked, “when they know who I am?”
+
+“They have no business to know who you are--and they shan’t know it.”
+
+“Ah! it comes back to the same thing,” she said. “You must deceive the
+honest people, or you can do nothing for me. Amelius had better have
+left me where I was! I disgraced nobody, I was a burden to nobody,
+_there._ Cold and hunger and ill-treatment can sometimes be merciful
+friends, in their way. If I had been left to them, they would have laid
+me at rest by this time.” She turned to Rufus, before he could speak to
+her. “I’m not ungrateful, sir; I’ll think of it, as you say; and I’ll
+do all that a poor foolish creature can do, to be worthy of the interest
+you take in me.” She lifted her hand to her head, with a momentary
+expression of pain. “I’ve got a dull kind of aching here,” she said; “it
+reminds me of my old life, when I was sometimes beaten on the head. May
+I go and lie down a little, by myself?”
+
+Rufus took her hand, and pressed it in silence. She looked back at him
+as she opened the door of her room. “Don’t distress Amelius,” she said;
+“I can bear anything but that.”
+
+Left alone in the library, Rufus walked restlessly to and fro, driven by
+a troubled mind. “I was bound to do it,” he thought; “and I ought to
+be satisfied with myself. I’m not satisfied. The world is hard on
+women--and the rights of property is a darned bad reason for it!”
+
+The door from the hall was suddenly thrown open. Amelius entered the
+room. He looked flushed and angry--he refused to take the hand that
+Rufus offered to him.
+
+“What’s this I hear from Toff? It seems that you forced your way in when
+Sally was here. There are limits to the liberties that a man may take in
+his friend’s house.”
+
+“That’s true,” said Rufus quietly. “But when a man hasn’t taken
+liberties, there don’t seem much to be said. Sally was at the Home, when
+I last saw you--and nobody told me I should find her in this room.”
+
+“You might have left the room, when you found her here. You have been
+talking to her. If you have said anything about Regina--”
+
+“I have said nothing about Miss Regina. You have a hot temper of your
+own, Amelius. Wait a bit, and let it cool.”
+
+“Never mind my temper. I want to know what you have been saying to
+Sally. Stop! I’ll ask Sally herself.” He crossed the room to the inner
+door, and knocked. “Come in here, my dear; I want to speak to you.”
+
+The answer reached him faintly through the door. “I have got a bad
+headache, Amelius. Please let me rest a little.” He turned back to
+Rufus, and lowered his voice. But his eyes flashed; he was more angry
+than ever.
+
+“You had better go,” he said. “I can guess how you have been talking to
+her--I know what her headache means. Any man who distresses that dear
+little affectionate creature is a man whom I hold as my enemy. I spit
+upon all the worldly considerations which pass muster with people like
+you! No sweeter girl than poor Sally ever breathed the breath of life.
+Her happiness is more precious to me than words can say. She is sacred
+to me! And I have just proved it--I have just come from a good woman,
+who will teach her an honest way of earning her bread. Not a breath of
+scandal shall blow on her. If you, or any people like you, think I will
+consent to cast her adrift on the world, or consign her to a prison
+under the name of a Home, you little know my nature and my principles.
+Here”--he snatched up the New Testament from the table, and shook it at
+Rufus--“here are my principles, and I’m not ashamed of them!”
+
+Rufus took up his hat.
+
+“There’s one thing you’ll be ashamed of, my son, when you’re cool enough
+to think about it,” he said; “you’ll be ashamed of the words you have
+spoken to a friend who loves you. I’m not a bit angry myself. You remind
+me of that time on board the steamer, when the quarter-master was going
+to shoot the bird. You made it up with him--and you’ll come to my hotel
+and make it up with me. And then we’ll shake hands, and talk about
+Sally. If it’s not taking another liberty, I’ll trouble you for a
+light.” He helped himself to a match from the box on the chimney-piece,
+lit his cigar, and left the room.
+
+He had not been gone half an hour, before the better nature of Amelius
+urged him to follow Rufus and make his apologies. But he was too anxious
+about Sally to leave the cottage, until he had seen her first. The tone
+in which she had answered him, when he knocked at her door, suggested,
+to his sensitive apprehension, that there was something more serious
+the matter with her than a mere headache. For another hour, he waited
+patiently, on the chance that he might hear her moving in her room.
+Nothing happened. No sound reached his ears, except the occasional
+rolling of carriage-wheels on the road outside.
+
+His patience began to fail him, as the second hour moved on. He went to
+the door, and listened, and still heard nothing. A sudden dread struck
+him that she might have fainted. He opened the door a few inches, and
+spoke to her. There was no answer. He looked in. The room was empty.
+
+He ran into the hall, and called to Toff. Was she, by any chance,
+downstairs? No. Or out in the garden? No. Master and man looked at each
+other in silence. Sally was gone.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 9
+
+Toff was the first who recovered himself.
+
+“Courage, sir!” he said. “With a little thinking, we shall see the way
+to find her. That rude American man, who talked with her this morning,
+may be the person who has brought this misfortune on us.”
+
+Amelius waited to hear no more. There was the chance, at least, that
+something might have been said which had induced her to take refuge with
+Rufus. He ran back to the library to get his hat.
+
+Toff followed his master, with another suggestion. “One word more, sir,
+before you go. If the American man cannot help us, we must be ready to
+try another way. Permit me to accompany you as far as my wife’s shop. I
+propose that she shall come back here with me, and examine poor little
+Miss’s bedroom. We will wait, of course, for your return, before
+anything is done. In the mean time, I entreat you not to despair. It
+is at least possible that the means of discovery may be found in the
+bedroom.”
+
+They went out together, taking the first cab that passed them. Amelius
+proceeded alone to the hotel.
+
+Rufus was in his room. “What’s gone wrong?” he asked, the moment Amelius
+opened the door. “Shake hands, my son, and smother up that little
+trouble between us in silence. Your face alarms me--it does! What of
+Sally?”
+
+Amelius started at the question. “Isn’t she here?” he asked.
+
+Rufus drew back. The mere action said, No, before he answered in words.
+
+“Have you seen nothing of her? heard nothing of her?”
+
+“Nothing. Steady, now! Meet it like a man; and tell me what has
+happened.”
+
+Amelius told him in two words. “Don’t suppose I’m going to break out
+again as I did this morning,” he went on; “I’m too wretched and too
+anxious to be angry. Only tell me, Rufus, have you said anything to
+her--?”
+
+Rufus held up his hand. “I see what you’re driving at. It will be more
+to the purpose to tell you what she said to me. From first to last,
+Amelius, I spoke kindly to her, and I did her justice. Give me a minute
+to rummage my memory.” After brief consideration, he carefully repeated
+the substance of what had passed between Sally and himself, during the
+latter part of the interview between them. “Have you looked about in
+her room?” he inquired, when he had done. “There might be a trifling
+something to help you, left behind her there.”
+
+Amelius told him of Toff’s suggestion. They returned together at once to
+the cottage. Madame Toff was waiting to begin the search.
+
+The first discovery was easily made. Sally had taken off one or two
+little trinkets--presents from Amelius, which she was in the habit of
+wearing--and had left them, wrapped up in paper, on the dressing-table.
+No such thing as a farewell letter was found near them. The examination
+of the wardrobe came next--and here a startling circumstance revealed
+itself. Every one of the dresses which Amelius had presented to her was
+hanging in its place. They were not many; and they had all, on previous
+occasions, been passed in review by Toff’s wife. She was absolutely
+certain that the complete number of the dresses was there in the
+bedroom. Sally must have worn something, in place of her new clothes.
+What had she put on?
+
+Looking round the room, Amelius noticed in a corner the box in which he
+had placed the first new dress that he had purchased for Sally, on the
+morning after they had met. He tried to open the box: it was locked--and
+the key was not to be found. The ever-ready Toff fetched a skewer from
+the kitchen, and picked the lock in two minutes. On lifting the cover,
+the box proved to be empty.
+
+The one person present who understood what this meant was Amelius.
+
+He remembered that Sally had taken her old threadbare clothes away with
+her in the box, when the angry landlady had insisted on his leaving the
+house. “I want to look at them sometimes,” the poor girl had said, “and
+think how much better off I am now.” In those miserable rags she had
+fled from the cottage, after hearing the cruel truth. “He had
+better have left me where I was,” she had said. “Cold and hunger and
+ill-treatment would have laid me at rest by this time.” Amelius fell on
+his knees before the empty box, in helpless despair. The conclusion
+that now forced itself on his mind completely unmanned him. She had
+gone back, in the old dress, to die under the cold, the hunger, and the
+horror of the old life.
+
+Rufus took his hand, and spoke to him kindly. He rallied, and dashed
+the tears from his eyes, and rose to his feet. “I know where to look
+for her,” was all he said; “and I must do it alone.” He refused to enter
+into any explanation, or to be assisted by any companion. “This is my
+secret and hers,” he answered, “Go back to your hotel, Rufus--and pray
+that I may not bring news which will make a wretched man of you for the
+rest of your life.” With that he left them.
+
+In another hour he stood once more on the spot at which he and Sally had
+met.
+
+The wild bustle and uproar of the costermongers’ night market no longer
+rioted round him: the street by daylight was in a state of dreary
+repose. Slowly pacing up and down, from one end to another, he waited
+with but one hope to sustain him--the hope that she might have taken
+refuge with the two women who had been her only friends in the dark days
+of her life. Ignorant of the place in which they lived, he had no choice
+but to wait for the appearance of one or other of them in the street.
+He was quiet and resolved. For the rest of the day, and for the whole
+of the night if need be, his mind was made up to keep steadfastly on the
+watch.
+
+When he could walk no longer, he obtained rest and refreshment in
+the cookshop which he remembered so well; sitting on a stool near the
+window, from which he could still command a view of the street. The
+gas-lamps were alight, and the long winter’s night was beginning to set
+in, when he resumed his weary march from end to end of the pavement. As
+the darkness became complete, his patience was rewarded at last. Passing
+the door of a pawnbroker’s shop, he met one of the women face to face,
+walking rapidly, with a little parcel under her arm.
+
+She recognized him with a cry of joyful surprise.
+
+“Oh, sir, how glad I am to see you, to be sure! You’ve come to look
+after Sally, haven’t you? Yes, yes; she’s safe in our poor place--but
+in such a dreadful state. Off her head! clean off her head! Talks of
+nothing but you. ‘I’m in the way of his prospects in life.’ Over and
+over and over again, she keeps on saying that. Don’t be afraid; Jenny’s
+at home, taking care of her. She wants to go out. Hot and wild, with a
+kind of fever on her, she wants to go out. She asked if it rained. ‘The
+rain may kill me in these ragged clothes,’ she says; ‘and then I shan’t
+be in the way of his prospects in life.’ We tried to quiet her by
+telling her it didn’t rain--but it was no use; she was as eager as ever
+to go out. ‘I may get another blow on the bosom,’ she says; ‘and, maybe,
+it will fall on the right place this time.’ No! there’s no fear of the
+brute who used to beat her--he’s in prison. Don’t ask to see her just
+yet, sir; please don’t! I’m afraid you would only make her worse, if I
+took you to her now; I wouldn’t dare to risk it. You see, we can’t get
+her to sleep; and we thought of buying something to quiet her at the
+chemist’s. Yes, sir, it would be better to get a doctor to her. But I
+wasn’t going to the doctor. If I must tell you, I was obliged to take
+the sheets off the bed, to raise a little money--I was going to the
+pawnbroker’s.” She looked at the parcel under her arm, and smiled. “I
+may take the sheets back again, now I’ve met with you; and there’s a
+good doctor lives close by--I can show you the way to him. Oh how pale
+you do look! Are you very much tired? It’s only a little way to the
+doctor. I’ve got an arm at your service--but you mightn’t like to be
+seen waiting with such a person as me.”
+
+Mentally and physically, Amelius was completely prostrated. The woman’s
+melancholy narrative had overwhelmed him: he could neither speak nor
+act. He mechanically put his purse in her hand, and went with her to the
+house of the nearest medical man.
+
+The doctor was at home, mixing drugs in his little surgery. After one
+sharp look at Amelius, he ran into a back parlour, and returned with a
+glass of spirits. “Drink this, sir,” he said--“unless you want to find
+yourself on the floor in a fainting fit. And don’t presume again on your
+youth and strength to treat your heart as if it was made of cast-iron.”
+ He signed to Amelius to sit down and rest himself, and turned to the
+woman to hear what was wanted of him. After a few questions, he said she
+might go; promising to follow her in a few minutes, when the gentleman
+would be sufficiently recovered to accompany him.
+
+“Well, sir, are you beginning to feel like yourself again?” He was
+mixing a composing draught, while he addressed Amelius in those terms.
+“You may trust that poor wretch, who has just left us, to take care of
+the sick girl,” he went on, in the quaintly familiar manner which seemed
+to be habitual with him. “I don’t ask how you got into her company--it’s
+no business of mine. But I am pretty well acquainted with the people in
+my neighbourhood; and I can tell you one thing, in case you’re anxious.
+The woman who brought you here, barring the one misfortune of her life,
+is as good a creature as ever breathed; and the other one who lives with
+her is the same. When I think of what they’re exposed to--well! I take
+to my pipe, and compose my mind in that way. My early days were all
+passed as a ship’s surgeon. I could get them both respectable employment
+in Australia, if I only had the money to fit them out. They’ll die in
+the hospital, like the rest, if something isn’t done for them. In my
+hopeful moments, I sometimes think of a subscription. What do you say?
+Will you put down a few shillings to set the example?”
+
+“I will do more than that,” Amelius answered. “I have reasons for
+wishing to befriend both those two poor women; and I will gladly engage
+to find the outfit.”
+
+The familiar old doctor held out his hand over the counter. “You’re
+a good fellow, if ever there was one yet!” he burst out. “I can show
+references which will satisfy you that I am not a rogue. In the mean
+time, let’s see what is the matter with this little girl; you can tell
+me about her as we go along.” He put his bottle of medicine in his
+pocket, and his arm in the arm of Amelius--and so led the way out.
+
+When they reached the wretched lodging-house in which the women lived,
+he suggested that his companion would do well to wait at the door. “I’m
+used to sad sights: it would only distress you to see the place. I won’t
+keep you long waiting.”
+
+He was as good as his word. In little more than ten minutes, he joined
+Amelius again in the street.
+
+“Don’t alarm yourself,” he said. “The case is not so serious as it
+looks. The poor child is suffering under a severe shock to the brain and
+nervous system, caused by that sudden and violent distress you hinted
+at. My medicine will give her the one thing she wants to begin with--a
+good night’s sleep.”
+
+Amelius asked when she would be well enough to see him.
+
+“Ah, my young friend, it’s not so easy to say, just yet! I could answer
+you to better purpose tomorrow. Won’t that do? Must I venture on a rash
+opinion? She ought to be composed enough to see you in three or four
+days. And, when that time comes, it’s my belief you will do more than I
+can do to set her right again.”
+
+Amelius was relieved, but not quite satisfied yet. He inquired if it was
+not possible to remove her from that miserable place.
+
+“Quite impossible--without doing her serious injury. They have got money
+to go on with; and I have told you already, she will be well taken care
+of. I will look after her myself tomorrow morning. Go home, and get to
+bed, and eat a bit of supper first, and make your mind easy. Come to
+my house at twelve o’clock, noon, and you will find me ready with my
+references, and my report of the patient. Surgeon Pinfold, Blackacre
+Buildings; there’s the address. Good night.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 10
+
+After Amelius had left him, Rufus remembered his promise to communicate
+with Regina by telegraph.
+
+With his strict regard for truth, it was no easy matter to decide on
+what message he should send. To inspire Regina, if possible, with
+his own unshaken belief in the good faith of Amelius, appeared,
+on reflection, to be all that he could honestly do, under present
+circumstances. With an anxious and foreboding mind, he despatched his
+telegram to Paris in these terms:--“Be patient for a while, and do
+justice to A. He deserves it.”
+
+Having completed his business at the telegraph-office, Rufus went next
+to pay his visit to Mrs. Payson.
+
+The good lady received him with a grave face and a distant manner, in
+startling contrast to the customary warmth of her welcome. “I used to
+think you were a man in a thousand,” she began abruptly; “and I find
+you are no better than the rest of them. If you have come to speak to me
+about that blackguard young Socialist, understand, if you please, that
+I am not so easily imposed upon as Miss Regina. I have done my duty;
+I have opened her eyes to the truth, poor thing. Ah, you ought to be
+ashamed of yourself.”
+
+Rufus kept his temper, with his habitual self-command. “It’s possible
+you may be right,” he said quietly; “but the biggest rascal living has
+a claim to an explanation, when a lady puzzles him. Have you any
+particular objection, old friend, to tell me what you mean?”
+
+The explanation was not of a nature to set his mind at ease.
+
+Regina had written, by the mail which took Rufus to England, repeating
+to Mrs. Payson what had passed at the interview in the Champs Elysees,
+and appealing to her sympathy for information and advice. Receiving
+the letter that morning, Mrs. Payson, acting on her own generous and
+compassionate impulses, had already answered it, and sent it to the
+post. Her experience of the unfortunate persons received at the Home was
+far from inclining her to believe in the innocence of a runaway girl,
+placed under circumstances of temptation. As an act of justice towards
+Regina, she enclosed to her the letter in which Amelius had acknowledged
+that Sally had passed the night under his roof.
+
+“I believe I am only telling you the shameful truth,” Mrs. Payson
+had written, “when I add that the girl has been an inmate of Mr.
+Goldenheart’s cottage ever since. If you can reconcile this disgraceful
+state of things, with Mr. Rufus Dingwell’s assertion of his friend’s
+fidelity to his marriage-engagement, I have no right, and no wish,
+to make any attempt to alter your opinion. But you have asked for my
+advice, and I must not shrink from giving it. I am bound as an honest
+woman, to tell you that your uncle’s resolution to break off the
+engagement represents the course that I should have taken myself, if
+a daughter of my own had been placed in your painful and humiliating
+position.”
+
+There was still ample time to modify this strong expression of opinion
+by the day’s post. Rufus appealed vainly to Mrs. Payson to reconsider
+the conclusion at which she had arrived. A more charitable and
+considerate woman, within the limits of her own daily routine, it would
+not be possible to find. But the largeness of mind which, having long
+and trustworthy experience of a rule, can nevertheless understand that
+other minds may have equal experience of the exception to the rule,
+was one of the qualities which had not been included in the moral
+composition of Mrs. Payson. She held firmly to her own narrowly
+conscientious sense of her duty; stimulated by a natural indignation
+against Amelius, who had bitterly disappointed her--against Rufus, who
+had not scrupled to take up his defence. The two old friends parted in
+coldness, for the first time in their lives.
+
+Rufus returned to his hotel, to wait there for news from Amelius.
+
+The day passed--and the one visitor who enlivened his solitude was
+an American friend and correspondent, connected with the agency which
+managed his affairs in England. The errand of this gentleman was to give
+his client the soundest and speediest advice, relating to the investment
+of money. Having indicated the safe and solid speculation, the
+visitor added a warning word, relating to the plausible and dangerous
+investments of the day. “For instance,” he said, “there’s that bank
+started by Farnaby--”
+
+“No need to warn me against Farnaby,” Rufus interposed; “I wouldn’t take
+shares in his bank if he made me a present of them.”
+
+The American friend looked surprised. “Surely,” he exclaimed, “you can’t
+have heard the news already! They don’t even know it yet on the Stock
+Exchange.”
+
+Rufus explained that he had only spoken under the influence of personal
+prejudice against Mr. Farnaby.
+
+“What’s in the wind now?” he asked.
+
+He was confidentially informed that a coming storm was in the wind: in
+other words, that a serious discovery had been made at the bank. Some
+time since, the directors had advanced a large sum of money to a man
+in trade, under Mr. Farnaby’s own guarantee. The man had just died;
+and examination of his affairs showed that he had only received a few
+hundred pounds, on condition of holding his tongue. The bulk of the
+money had been traced to Mr. Farnaby himself, and had all been
+swallowed up by his newspaper, his patent medicine, and his other rotten
+speculations, apart from his own proper business. “You may not know it,”
+ the American friend concluded, “but the fact is, Farnaby rose from the
+dregs. His bankruptcy is only a question of time--he will drop back to
+the dregs; and, quite possibly, make his appearance to answer a criminal
+charge in a court of law. I hear that Melton, whose credit has held up
+the bank lately, is off to see his friend in Paris. They say Farnaby’s
+niece is a handsome girl, and Melton is sweet on her. Awkward for
+Melton.”
+
+Rufus listened attentively. In signing the order for his investments, he
+privately decided to stir no further, for the present, in the matter of
+his young friend’s marriage-engagement.
+
+For the rest of the day and evening, he still waited for Amelius, and
+waited in vain. It was drawing near to midnight, when Toff made his
+appearance with a message from his master. Amelius had discovered Sally,
+and had returned in such a state of fatigue that he was only fit to
+take some refreshment, and to go to his bed. He would be away from home
+again, on the next morning; but he hoped to call at the hotel in the
+course of the day. Observing Toff’s face with grave and steady scrutiny,
+Rufus tried to extract some further information from him. But the old
+Frenchman stood on his dignity, in a state of immovable reserve.
+
+“You took me by the shoulder this morning, sir, and spun me round,” he
+said; “I do not desire to be treated a second time like a teetotum.
+For the rest, it is not my habit to intrude myself into my master’s
+secrets.”
+
+“It’s not _my_ habit,” Rufus coolly rejoined, “to bear malice. I beg to
+apologise sincerely, sir, for treating you like a teetotum; and I offer
+you my hand.”
+
+Toff had got as far as the door. He instantly returned, with the dignity
+which a Frenchman can always command in the serious emergencies of his
+life. “You appeal to my heart and my honour, sir,” he said. “I bury the
+events of the morning in oblivion; and I do myself the honour of taking
+your hand.”
+
+As the door closed on him, Rufus smiled grimly. “You’re not in the habit
+of intruding yourself into your master’s secrets,” he repeated. “If
+Amelius reads your face as I read it, he’ll look over his shoulder when
+he goes out tomorrow--and, ten to one, he’ll see you behind him in the
+distance!”
+
+Late on the next day, Amelius presented himself at the hotel. In
+speaking of Sally, he was unusually reserved, merely saying that she was
+ill, and under medical care, and then changing the subject. Struck by
+the depressed and anxious expression of his face, Rufus asked if he had
+heard from Regina. No: a longer time than usual had passed since Regina
+had written to him. “I don’t understand it,” he said sadly. “I suppose
+you didn’t see anything of her in Paris?”
+
+Rufus had kept his promise not to mention Regina’s name in Sally’s
+presence. But it was impossible for him to look at Amelius, without
+plainly answering the question put to him, for the sake of the friend
+whom he loved. “I’m afraid there’s trouble coming to you, my son, from
+that quarter.” With those warning words, he described all that had
+passed between Regina and himself. “Some unknown enemy of yours has
+spoken against you to her uncle,” he concluded. “I suppose you have made
+enemies, my poor old boy, since you have been in London?”
+
+“I know the man,” Amelius answered. “He wanted to marry Regina before I
+met with her. His name is Melton.”
+
+Rufus started. “I heard only yesterday, he was in Paris with Farnaby.
+And that’s not the worst of it, Amelius. There’s another of them making
+mischief--a good friend of mine who has shown a twist in her temper,
+that has taken me by surprise after twenty years’ experience of her.
+I reckon there’s a drop of malice in the composition of the best woman
+that ever lived--and the men only discover it when another woman steps
+in, and stirs it up. Wait a bit!” he went on, when he had related the
+result of his visit to Mrs. Payson. “I have telegraphed to Miss Regina
+to be patient, and to trust you. Don’t you write to defend yourself,
+till you hear how you stand in her estimation, after my message.
+Tomorrow’s post may tell.”
+
+Tomorrow’s post did tell.
+
+Two letters reached Amelius from Paris. One from Mr. Farnaby, curt and
+insolent, breaking off the marriage-engagement. The other, from Regina,
+expressed with great severity of language. Her weak nature, like all
+weak natures, ran easily into extremes, and, once roused into asserting
+itself, took refuge in violence as a shy person takes refuge in
+audacity. Only a woman of larger and firmer mind would have written of
+her wrongs in a more just and more moderate tone.
+
+Regina began without any preliminary form of address. She had no heart
+to upbraid Amelius, and no wish to speak of what she was suffering, to
+a man who had but too plainly shown that he had no respect for himself,
+and neither love, nor pity even, for her. In justice to herself,
+she released him from his promise, and returned his letters and his
+presents. Her own letters might be sent in a sealed packet, addressed to
+her at her uncle’s place of business in London. She would pray that he
+might be brought to a sense of the sin that he had committed, and that
+he might yet live to be a worthy and a happy man. For the rest, her
+decision was irrevocable. His own letter to Mrs. Payson condemned
+him--and the testimony of an old and honoured friend of her uncle proved
+that his wickedness was no mere act of impulse, but a deliberate course
+of infamy and falsehood, continued over many weeks. From the moment when
+she made that discovery, he was a stranger to her--and she now bade him
+farewell.
+
+“Have you written to her?” Rufus asked, when he had seen the letters.
+
+Amelius reddened with indignation. He was not aware of it himself--but
+his look and manner plainly revealed that Regina had lost her last hold
+on him. Her letter had inflicted an insult--not a wound: he was outraged
+and revolted; the deeper and gentler feelings, the emotions of a grieved
+and humiliated lover, had been killed in him by her stern words of
+dismissal and farewell.
+
+“Do you think I would allow myself to be treated in that way, without
+a word of protest?” he said to Rufus. “I have written, refusing to take
+back my promise. ‘I declare, on my word of honour, that I have been
+faithful to you and to my engagement’--that was how I put it--‘and I
+scorn the vile construction which your uncle and his friend have placed
+upon an act of Christian mercy on my part.’ I wrote more tenderly,
+before I finished my letter; feeling for her distress, and being anxious
+above all things not to add to it. We shall see if she has love enough
+left for me to trust my faith and honour, instead of trusting false
+appearances. I will give her time.”
+
+Rufus considerately abstained from expressing any opinion. He waited
+until the morning when a reply might be expected from Paris; and then he
+called at the cottage.
+
+Without a word of comment, Amelius put a letter into his friend’s hand.
+It was his own letter to Regina returned to him. On the back of it,
+there was a line in Mr. Farnaby’s handwriting:--“If you send any more
+letters they will be burnt unopened.” In those insolent terms the wretch
+wrote with bankruptcy and exposure hanging over his head.
+
+Rufus spoke plainly upon this. “There’s an end of it now,” he said.
+“That girl would never have made the right wife for you, Amelius: you’re
+well out of it. Forget that you ever knew these people; and let us talk
+of something else. How is Sally?”
+
+At that ill-timed inquiry, Amelius showed his temper again. He was in a
+state of nervous irritability which made him apt to take offence, where
+no offence was intended. “Oh, you needn’t be alarmed!” he answered
+petulantly; “there’s no fear of the poor child coming back to live with
+me. She is still under the doctor’s care.”
+
+Rufus passed over the angry reply without notice, and patted him on the
+shoulder. “I spoke of the girl,” he said, “because I wanted to help her;
+and I can help her, if you will let me. Before long, my son, I shall be
+going back to the United States. I wish you would go with me!”
+
+“And desert Sally!” cried Amelius.
+
+“Nothing of the sort! Before we go, I’ll see that Sally is provided for
+to your satisfaction. Will you think of it, to please me?”
+
+Amelius relented. “Anything, to please you,” he said.
+
+Rufus noticed his hat and gloves on the table, and left him without
+saying more. “The trouble with Amelius,” he thought, as he closed the
+cottage gate, “is not over yet.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 11
+
+The day on which worthy old Surgeon Pinfold had predicted that Sally
+would be in a fair way of recovery had come and gone; and still the
+medical report to Amelius was the same:--“You must be patient, sir; she
+is not well enough to see you yet.”
+
+Toff, watching his young master anxiously, was alarmed by the steadily
+progressive change in him for the worse, which showed itself at this
+time. Now sad and silent, and now again bitter and irritable, he had
+deteriorated physically as well as morally, until he really looked
+like the shadow of his former self. He never exchanged a word with his
+faithful old servant, except when he said mechanically, “good morning”
+ or “good night.” Toff could endure it no longer. At the risk of being
+roughly misinterpreted, he followed his own kindly impulse, and spoke.
+“May I own to you, sir,” he said, with perfect gentleness and respect,
+“that I am indeed heartily sorry to see you so ill?”
+
+Amelius looked up at him sharply. “You servants always make a fuss about
+trifles. I am a little out of sorts; and I want a change--that’s all.
+Perhaps I may go to America. You won’t like that; I shan’t complain if
+you look out for another situation.”
+
+The tears came into the old man’s eyes. “Never!” he answered fervently.
+“My last service, sir, if you send me away, shall be my dearly loved
+service here.”
+
+All that was most tender in the nature of Amelius was touched to the
+quick. “Forgive me, Toff,” he said; “I am lonely and wretched, and more
+anxious about Sally than words can tell. There can be no change in my
+life, until my mind is easy about that poor little girl. But if it does
+end in my going to America, you shall go with me--I wouldn’t lose you,
+my good friend, for the world.”
+
+Toff still remained in the room, as if he had something left to say.
+Entirely ignorant of the marriage engagement between Amelius and
+Regina, and of the rupture in which it had ended, he vaguely suspected
+nevertheless that his master might have fallen into an entanglement
+with some lady unknown. The opportunity of putting the question was now
+before him. He risked it in a studiously modest form.
+
+“Are you going to America to be married, sir?”
+
+Amelius eyed him with a momentary suspicion. “What has put that in your
+head?” he asked.
+
+“I don’t know, sir,” Toff answered humbly--“unless it was my own vivid
+imagination. Would there be anything very wonderful in a gentleman of
+your age and appearance conducting some charming person to the altar?”
+
+Amelius was conquered once more; he smiled faintly. “Enough of your
+nonsense, Toff! I shall never be married--understand that.”
+
+Toff’s withered old face brightened slyly. He turned away to withdraw;
+hesitated; and suddenly went back to his master.
+
+“Have you any occasion for my services, sir, for an hour or two?” he
+asked.
+
+“No. Be back before I go out, myself--be back at three o’clock.”
+
+“Thank you, sir. My little boy is below, if you want anything in my
+absence.”
+
+The little boy dutifully attending Toff to the gate, observed with grave
+surprise that his father snapped his fingers gaily at starting, and
+hummed the first bars of the Marseillaise. “Something is going to
+happen,” said Toff’s boy, on his way back to the house.
+
+
+From the Regent’s Park to Blackacre Buildings is almost a journey from
+one end of London to the other. Assisted for part of the way by an
+omnibus, Toff made the journey, and arrived at the residence of Surgeon
+Pinfold, with the easy confidence of a man who knew thoroughly well
+where he was going, and what he was about. The sagacity of Rufus had
+correctly penetrated his intentions; he had privately followed his
+master, and had introduced himself to the notice of the surgeon--with a
+mixture of motives, in which pure devotion to the interests of Amelius
+played the chief part. His experience of the world told him that Sally’s
+departure was only the beginning of more trouble to come. “What is the
+use of me to my master,” he had argued, “except to spare him trouble, in
+spite of himself?”
+
+Surgeon Pinfold was prescribing for a row of sick people, seated before
+him on a bench. “You’re not ill, are you?” he said sharply to Toff.
+“Very well, then, go into the parlour and wait.”
+
+The patients being dismissed, Toff attempted to explain the object of
+his visit. But the old naval surgeon insisted on clearing the ground by
+means of a plain question first. “Has your master sent you here--or is
+this another private interview, like the last?”
+
+“It is all that is most private,” Toff answered; “my poor master is
+wasting away in unrelieved wretchedness and suspense. Something must
+be done for him. Oh, dear and good sir, help me in this most miserable
+state of things! Tell me the truth about Miss Sally!”
+
+Old Pinfold put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the parlour
+wall, looking at the Frenchman with a complicated expression, in which
+genuine sympathy mingled oddly with a quaint sense of amusement. “You’re
+a worthy chap,” he said; “and you shall have the truth. I have been
+obliged to deceive your master about this troublesome young Sally;
+I have stuck to it that she is too ill to see him, or to answer his
+letters. Both lies. There’s nothing the matter with her now, but a
+disease that I can’t cure, the disease of a troubled mind. She’s got
+it into her head that she has everlastingly degraded herself in
+his estimation by leaving him and coming here. It’s no use telling
+her--what, mind you, is perfectly true--that she was all but out of her
+senses, and not in the least responsible for what she did at the time
+when she did it. She holds to her own opinion, nevertheless. ‘What can
+he think of me, but that I have gone back willingly to the disgrace of
+my old life? I should throw myself out of the window, if he came into
+the room!’ That’s how she answers me--and, what makes matters worse
+still, she’s breaking her heart about him all the time. The poor wretch
+is so eager for any little word of news about his health and his doings,
+that it’s downright pitiable to see her. I don’t think her fevered
+little brain will bear it much longer--and hang me if I can tell what to
+do next to set things right! The two women, her friends, have no sort
+of influence over her. When I saw her this morning, she was ungrateful
+enough to say, ‘Why didn’t you let me die?’ How your master got among
+these unfortunate people is more than I know, and is no business of
+mine; I only wish he had been a different sort of man. Before I knew him
+as well as I know him now, I predicted, like a fool, that he would
+be just the person to help us in managing the girl. I have altered
+my opinion. He’s such a glorious fellow--so impulsive and so
+tender-hearted--that he would be certain, in her present excited
+state, to do her more harm than good. Do you know if he is going to be
+married?”
+
+Toff, listening thus far in silent distress, suddenly looked up.
+
+“Why do you ask me, sir?”
+
+“It’s an idle question, I dare say,” old Pinfold remarked. “Sally
+persists in telling us she’s in the way of his prospects in life--and
+it’s got somehow into her perverse little head that his prospects in
+life mean his marriage, and she’s in the way of _that._--Hullo! are you
+going already?”
+
+“I want to go to Miss Sally, sir. I believe I can say something to
+comfort her. Do you think she will see me?”
+
+“Are you the man who has got the nickname of Toff? She sometimes talks
+about Toff.”
+
+“Yes, sir, yes! I am Theophile Leblond, otherwise Toff. Where can I find
+her?”
+
+Surgeon Pinfold rang a bell. “My errand-boy is going past the house, to
+deliver some medicine,” he answered. “It’s a poor place; but you’ll find
+it neat and nice enough--thanks to your good master. He’s helping the
+two women to begin life again out of this country; and, while they’re
+waiting their turn to get a passage, they’ve taken an extra room and
+hired some decent furniture, by your master’s own wish. Oh, here’s the
+boy; he’ll show you the way. One word before you go. What do you think
+of saying to Sally?”
+
+“I shall tell her, for one thing, sir, that my master is miserable for
+want of her.”
+
+Surgeon Pinfold shook his head. “That won’t take you very far on the way
+to persuading her. You will make _her_ miserable too--and there’s about
+all you will get by it.”
+
+Toff lifted his indicative forefinger to the side of his nose. “Suppose
+I tell her something else, sir? Suppose I tell her my master is not
+going to be married to anybody?”
+
+“She won’t believe you know anything about it.”
+
+“She will believe, for this reason,” said Toff, gravely; “I put the
+question to my master before I came here; and I have it from his
+own lips that there is no young lady in the way, and that he is
+not--positively not--going to be married. If I tell Miss Sally this,
+sir, how do you say it will end? Will you bet me a shilling it has no
+effect on her?”
+
+“I won’t bet a farthing! Follow the boy--and tell young Sally I have
+sent her a better doctor than I am.”
+
+
+While Toff was on his way to Sally, Toff’s boy was disturbing Amelius by
+the announcement of a visitor. The card sent in bore this inscription:
+“Brother Bawkwell, from Tadmor.”
+
+Amelius looked at the card; and ran into the hall to receive the
+visitor, with both hands held out in hearty welcome. “Oh, I am so glad
+to see you!” he cried. “Come in, and tell me all about Tadmor!”
+
+Brother Bawkwell acknowledged the enthusiastic reception offered to him
+by a stare of grim surprise. He was a dry, hard old man, with a scrubby
+white beard, a narrow wrinkled forehead, and an obstinate lipless mouth;
+fitted neither by age nor temperament to be the intimate friend of any
+of his younger brethren among the Community. But, at that saddest time
+of his life, the heart of Amelius warmed to any one who reminded him of
+his tranquil and happy days at Tadmor. Even this frozen old Socialist
+now appeared to him, for the first time, under the borrowed aspect of a
+welcome friend.
+
+Brother Bawkwell took the chair offered to him, and opened the
+proceedings, in solemn silence, by looking at his watch. “Twenty-five
+minutes past two,” he said to himself--and put the watch back again.
+
+“Are you pressed for time?” Amelius asked.
+
+“Much may be done in ten minutes,” Brother Bawkwell answered, in a
+Scotch accent which had survived the test of half a lifetime in America.
+“I would have you know I am in England on a mission from the Community,
+with a list of twenty-seven persons in all, whom I am appointed to
+confer with on matters of varying importance. Yours, friend Amelius, is
+a matter of minor importance. I can give you ten minutes.”
+
+He opened a big black pocket-book, stuffed with a mass of letters; and,
+placing two of them on the table before him, addressed Amelius as if he
+was making a speech at a public meeting.
+
+“I have to request your attention to certain proceedings of the Council
+at Tadmor, bearing date the third of December last; and referring to a
+person under sentence of temporary separation from the Community, along
+with yourself--”
+
+“Mellicent!” Amelius exclaimed.
+
+“We have no time for interruptions,” Brother Bawkwell remarked. “The
+person _is_ Sister Mellicent; and the business before the Council was to
+consider a letter, under her signature, received December second. Said
+letter,” he proceeded, taking up one of his papers, “is abridged as
+follows by the Secretary to the Council. In substance, the writer states
+(first): ‘That the married sister under whose protection she has been
+living at New York is about to settle in England with her husband,
+appointed to manage the branch of his business established in London.
+(Second): That she, meaning Sister Mellicent, has serious reasons for
+not accompanying her relatives to England, and has no other friends to
+take charge of her welfare, if she remains in New York. (Third): That
+she appeals to the mercy of the Council, under these circumstances,
+to accept the expression of her sincere repentance for the offence of
+violating a Rule, and to permit a friendless and penitent creature to
+return to the only home left to her, her home at Tadmor.’ No, friend
+Amelius--we have no time for expressions of sympathy; the first half of
+the ten minutes has nearly expired. I have further to notify you that
+the question was put to the vote, in this form: ‘Is it consistent with
+the serious responsibility which rests on the Council, to consider the
+remission of any sentence justly pronounced under the Book of Rules?’
+The result was very remarkable; the votes for and against being equally
+divided. In this event, as you know, our laws provide that the
+decision rests with the Elder Brother--who gave his vote thereupon for
+considering the remission of the sentence; and moved the next resolution
+that the sentence be remitted accordingly. Carried by a small majority.
+Whereupon, Sister Mellicent was received again at Tadmor.”
+
+“Ah, the dear old Elder Brother,” cried Amelius--“always on the side of
+mercy!”
+
+Brother Bawkwell held up his hand in protest. “You seem to have no
+idea,” he said, “of the value of time. Do be quiet! As travelling
+representative of the Council, I am further instructed to say, that
+the sentence pronounced against yourself stands duly remitted, in
+consequence of the remission of the sentence against Sister Mellicent.
+You likewise are free to return to Tadmor, at your own will and
+pleasure. But--attend to what is coming, friend Amelius!--the Council
+holds to its resolution that your choice between us and the world shall
+be absolutely unbiased. In the fear of exercising even an indirect
+influence, we have purposely abstained from corresponding with you. With
+the same motive we now say, that if you do return to us, it must be with
+no interference on our part. We inform you of an event that has happened
+in your absence--and we do no more.”
+
+He paused, and looked again at his watch. Time proverbially works
+wonders. Time closed his lips.
+
+Amelius replied with a heavy heart. The message from the Council had
+recalled him from the remembrance of Mellicent to the sense of his own
+position. “My experience of the world has been a very hard one,” he
+said. “I would gladly go back to Tadmor this very day, but for one
+consideration--” He hesitated; the image of Sally was before him. The
+tears rose in his eyes; he said no more.
+
+Brother Bawkwell, driven hard by time, got on his legs, and handed
+to Amelius the second of the two papers which he had taken out of his
+pocket-book.
+
+“Here is a purely informal document,” he said; “being a few lines from
+Sister Mellicent, which I was charged to deliver to you. Be pleased to
+read it as quickly as you can, and tell me if there is any reply.”
+
+There was not much to read:--“The good people here, Amelius, have
+forgiven me and let me return to them. I am living happily now, dear, in
+my remembrances of you. I take the walks that we once took together--and
+sometimes I go out in the boat on the lake, and think of the time when I
+told you my sad story. Your poor little pet creatures are under my care;
+the dog, and the fawn, and the birds--all well, and waiting for you,
+with me. My belief that you will come back to me remains the same
+unshaken belief that it has been from the first. Once more I say it--you
+will find me the first to welcome you, when your spirits are sinking
+under the burden of life, and your heart turns again to the friends
+of your early days. Until that time comes, think of me now and then.
+Good-bye.”
+
+“I am waiting,” said Brother Bawkwell, taking his hat in his hand.
+
+Amelius answered with an effort. “Thank her kindly in my name,” he said:
+“that is all.” His head drooped while he spoke; he fell into thought as
+if he had been alone in the room.
+
+But the emissary from Tadmor, warned by the minute-hand on the watch,
+recalled his attention to passing events. “You would do me a kindness,”
+ said Brother Bawkwell, producing a list of names and addresses, “if you
+could put me in the way of finding the person named, eighth from the
+top. It’s getting on towards twenty minutes to three.”
+
+The address thus pointed out was at no great distance, on the northern
+side of the Regent’s Park. Amelius, still silent and thoughtful, acted
+willingly as a guide. “Please thank the Council for their kindness to
+me,” he said, when they reached their destination. Brother Bawkwell
+looked at friend Amelius with a calm inquiring eye. “I think you’ll end
+in coming back to us,” he said. “I’ll take the opportunity, when I see
+you at Tadmor, of making a few needful remarks on the value of time.”
+
+Amelius went back to the cottage, to see if Toff had returned, in his
+absence, before he paid his daily visit to Surgeon Pinfold. He called
+down the kitchen stairs, “Are you there, Toff?” And Toff answered
+briskly, “At your service, sir.”
+
+The sky had become cloudy, and threatened rain. Not finding his umbrella
+in the hall, Amelius went into the library to look for it. As he closed
+the door behind him, Toff and his boy appeared on the kitchen stairs;
+both walking on tiptoe, and both evidently on the watch for something.
+
+Amelius found his umbrella. But it was characteristic of the melancholy
+change in him that he dropped languidly into the nearest chair, instead
+of going out at once with the easy activity of happier days. Sally was
+in his mind again; he was rousing his resolution to set the doctor’s
+commands at defiance, and to insist on seeing her, come what might of
+it.
+
+He suddenly looked up. A slight sound had startled him.
+
+It was a faint rustling sound; and it came from the sadly silent room
+which had once been Sally’s.
+
+He listened, and heard it again. He sprang to his feet--his heart beat
+wildly--he opened the door of the room.
+
+She was there.
+
+Her hands were clasped over her fast-heaving breast. She was powerless
+to look at him, powerless to speak to him--powerless to move towards
+him, until he opened his arms to her. Then, all the love and all
+the sorrow in the tender little heart flowed outward to him in a low
+murmuring cry. She hid her blushing face on his bosom. The rosy colour
+softly tinged her neck--the unspoken confession of all she feared, and
+all she hoped.
+
+It was a time beyond words. They were silent in each other’s arms.
+
+But under them, on the floor below, the stillness in the cottage
+was merrily broken by an outburst of dance-music--with a rhythmical
+thump-thump of feet, keeping time to the cheerful tune. Toff was playing
+his fiddle; and Toff’s boy was dancing to his father’s music.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 12
+
+After waiting a day or two for news from Amelius, and hearing nothing,
+Rufus went to make inquiries at the cottage.
+
+“My master has gone out of town, sir,” said Toff, opening the door.
+
+“Where?”
+
+“I don’t know, sir.”
+
+“Anybody with him?”
+
+“I don’t know, sir.”
+
+“Any news of Sally?”
+
+“I don’t know, sir.”
+
+Rufus stepped into the hall. “Look here, Mr. Frenchman, three times is
+enough. I have already apologized for treating you like a teetotum, on a
+former occasion. I’m afraid I shall do it again, sir, if I don’t get an
+answer to my next question--my hands are itching to be at you, they are!
+When is Amelius expected back?”
+
+“Your question is positive, sir,” said Toff, with dignity. “I am happy
+to be able to meet it with a positive reply. My master is expected back
+in three weeks’ time.”
+
+Having obtained some information at last, Rufus debated with himself
+what he should do next. He decided that “the boy was worth waiting for,”
+ and that his wisest course (as a good American) would be to go back, and
+wait in Paris.
+
+Passing through the Garden of the Tuileries, two or three days later,
+and crossing to the Rue de Rivoli, the name of one of the hotels in
+that quarter reminded him of Regina. He yielded to the prompting of
+curiosity, and inquired if Mr. Farnaby and his niece were still in
+Paris.
+
+The manager of the hotel was in the porter’s lodge at the time. So far
+as he knew, he said, Mr. Farnaby and his niece, and an English gentleman
+with them, were now on their travels. They had left the hotel with an
+appearance of mystery. The courier had been discharged; and the coachman
+of the hired carriage which took them away had been told to drive
+straight forward until further orders. In short, as the manager put it,
+the departure resembled a flight. Remembering what his American agent
+had told him, Rufus received this information without surprise. Even the
+apparently incomprehensible devotion of Mr. Melton to the interests of
+such a man as Farnaby, failed to present itself to him as a perplexing
+circumstance. To his mind, Mr. Melton’s conduct was plainly attributable
+to a reward in prospect; and the name of that reward was--Miss Regina.
+
+At the end of the three weeks, Rufus returned to London.
+
+Once again, he and Toff confronted each other on the threshold of the
+door. This time, the genial old man presented an appearance that was
+little less than dazzling. From head to foot he was arrayed in new
+clothes; and he exhibited an immense rosette of white ribbon in his
+button-hole.
+
+“Thunder!” cried Rufus. “Here’s Mr. Frenchman going to be married!”
+
+Toff declined to humour the joke. He stood on his dignity as stiffly as
+ever. “Pardon me, sir, I possess a wife and family already.”
+
+“Do you, now? Well--none of your know-nothing answers this time. Has
+Amelius come back?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“And what’s the news of Sally?”
+
+“Good news, sir. Miss Sally has come back too.”
+
+“You call that good news, do you? I’ll say a word to Amelius. What are
+you standing there for? Let me by.”
+
+“Pardon me once more, sir. My master and Miss Sally do not receive
+visitors today.”
+
+“Your master and Miss Sally?” Rufus repeated. “Has this old creature
+been liquoring up a little too freely? What do you mean,” he burst out,
+with a sudden change of tone to stern surprise--“what do you mean by
+putting your master and Sally together?”
+
+Toff shot his bolt at last. “They will be together, sir, for the rest of
+their lives. They were married this morning.”
+
+
+Rufus received the blow in dead silence. He turned about, and went back
+to his hotel.
+
+Reaching his room, he opened the despatch box in which he kept
+his correspondence, and picked out the long letter containing the
+description by Amelius of his introduction to the ladies of the Farnaby
+family. He took up the pen, and wrote the indorsement which has been
+quoted as an integral part of the letter itself, in the Second Book of
+this narrative:--
+
+“Ah, poor Amelius! He had better have gone back to Miss Mellicent, and
+put up with the little drawback of her age. What a bright lovable fellow
+he was! Goodbye to Goldenheart!”
+
+
+Were the forebodings of Rufus destined to be fulfilled? This question
+will be answered, it is hoped, in a Second Series of The Fallen Leaves.
+The narrative of the married life of Amelius presents a subject too
+important to be treated within the limits of the present story--and the
+First Series necessarily finds its end in the culminating event of his
+life, thus far.
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Fallen Leaves, by Wilkie Collins
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FALLEN LEAVES ***
+
+***** This file should be named 7894-0.txt or 7894-0.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/7/8/9/7894/
+
+Produced by James Rusk
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project
+Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+http://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation”
+ or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project
+Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+“Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, “Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.”
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+“Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right
+of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’ WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm’s
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+http://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws.
+
+The Foundation’s principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation’s web site and official
+page at http://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit http://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     http://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/7894-0.zip b/7894-0.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..60c2978
--- /dev/null
+++ b/7894-0.zip
diff --git a/7894-h.zip b/7894-h.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..755ce61
--- /dev/null
+++ b/7894-h.zip
diff --git a/7894-h/7894-h.htm b/7894-h/7894-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0c18c4b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/7894-h/7894-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,16788 @@
+<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?>
+
+<!DOCTYPE html
+   PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+   "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" >
+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <title>
+      The Fallen Leaves, by Wilkie Collins
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve">
+
+    body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify}
+    P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; }
+    H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; }
+    hr  { width: 50%; text-align: center;}
+    .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; }
+    blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;}
+    .mynote    {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;}
+    .toc       { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;}
+    .toc2      { margin-left: 20%;}
+    div.fig    { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; }
+    div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; }
+    .figleft   {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;}
+    .figright  {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;}
+    .pagenum   {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal;
+               margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%;
+               text-align: right;}
+    pre        { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;}
+
+</style>
+  </head>
+  <body>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Fallen Leaves, by Wilkie Collins
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Fallen Leaves
+
+Author: Wilkie Collins
+
+Release Date: July 26, 2009 [EBook #7894]
+Last Updated: September 11, 2016
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FALLEN LEAVES ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by James Rusk, and David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <h1>
+      THE FALLEN LEAVES
+    </h1>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      By Wilkie Collins
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To CAROLINE
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br />
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Experience of the reception of <i>The Fallen Leaves</i> by intelligent
+      readers, who have followed the course of the periodical publication at
+      home and abroad, has satisfied me that the design of the work speaks for
+      itself, and that the scrupulous delicacy of treatment, in certain portions
+      of the story, has been as justly appreciated as I could wish. Having
+      nothing to explain, and (so far as my choice of subject is concerned)
+      nothing to excuse, I leave my book, without any prefatory pleading for it,
+      to make its appeal to the reading public on such merits as it may possess.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      W. C. GLOUCESTER PLACE, LONDON July 1st, 1879
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <blockquote>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big>
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        <br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> THE PROLOGUE </a><br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2H_4_0002"> <big><b>THE STORY</b></big> </a><br /><br /><br />
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> <b>BOOK THE FIRST. AMELIUS AMONG THE
+        SOCIALISTS</b> </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER 1 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER 2 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER 3 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER 4 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER 5 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        <br />
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> <b>BOOK THE SECOND. AMELIUS IN LONDON</b> </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER 1 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER 2 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        <br />
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> <b>BOOK THE THIRD. MRS. FARNABY&rsquo;S FOOT</b>
+        </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER 1 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER 2 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER 3 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER 4 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        <br />
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> <b>BOOK THE FOURTH. LOVE AND MONEY</b> </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER 1 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER 2 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER 3 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER 4 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        <br />
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> <b>BOOK THE FIFTH. THE FATAL LECTURE</b> </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER 1 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER 2 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER 3 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER 4 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER 5 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER 6 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        <br />
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2H_4_0029"> <b>BOOK THE SIXTH. FILIA DOLOROSA</b> </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER 1 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER 2 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER 3 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER 4 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER 5 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER 6 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        <br />
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2H_4_0036"> <b>BOOK THE SEVENTH. THE VANISHING HOPES</b>
+        </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER 1 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER 2 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER 3 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER 4 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER 5 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0033"> CHAPTER 6 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        <br />
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2H_4_0043"> <b>BOOK THE EIGHTH. DAME NATURE DECIDES</b>
+        </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0034"> CHAPTER 1 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0035"> CHAPTER 2 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0036"> CHAPTER 3 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0037"> CHAPTER 4 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0038"> CHAPTER 5 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0039"> CHAPTER 6 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0040"> CHAPTER 7 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0041"> CHAPTER 8 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0042"> CHAPTER 9 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0043"> CHAPTER 10 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0044"> CHAPTER 11 </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0045"> CHAPTER 12 </a>
+      </p>
+    </blockquote>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      THE PROLOGUE
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      I
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      The resistless influences which are one day to reign supreme over our poor
+      hearts, and to shape the sad short course of our lives, are sometimes of
+      mysteriously remote origin, and find their devious ways to us through the
+      hearts and the lives of strangers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While the young man whose troubled career it is here proposed to follow
+      was wearing his first jacket, and bowling his first hoop, a domestic
+      misfortune, falling on a household of strangers, was destined nevertheless
+      to have its ultimate influence over his happiness, and to shape the whole
+      aftercourse of his life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For this reason, some First Words must precede the Story, and must present
+      the brief narrative of what happened in the household of strangers. By
+      what devious ways the event here related affected the chief personage of
+      these pages, when he grew to manhood, it will be the business of the story
+      to trace, over land and sea, among men and women, in bright days and dull
+      days alike, until the end is reached, and the pen (God willing) is put
+      back in the desk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      II
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Benjamin Ronald (of the Stationers&rsquo; Company) took a young wife at the
+      ripe age of fifty, and carried with him into the holy estate of matrimony
+      some of the habits of his bachelor life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As a bachelor, he had never willingly left his shop (situated in that
+      exclusively commercial region of London which is called &ldquo;the City&rdquo;) from
+      one year&rsquo;s end to another. As a married man, he persisted in following the
+      same monotonous course; with this one difference, that he now had a woman
+      to follow it with him. &ldquo;Travelling by railway,&rdquo; he explained to his wife,
+      &ldquo;will make your head ache&mdash;it makes <i>my</i> head ache. Travelling
+      by sea will make you sick&mdash;it makes <i>me</i> sick. If you want
+      change of air, every sort of air is to be found in the City. If you admire
+      the beauties of Nature, there is Finsbury Square with the beauties of
+      Nature carefully selected and arranged. When we are in London, you (and I)
+      are all right; and when we are out of London, you (and I) are all wrong.&rdquo;
+       As surely as the autumn holiday season set in, so surely Old Ronald
+      resisted his wife&rsquo;s petition for a change of scene in that form of words.
+      A man habitually fortified behind his own inbred obstinacy and selfishness
+      is for the most part an irresistible power within the limits of his
+      domestic circle. As a rule, patient Mrs. Ronald yielded; and her husband
+      stood revealed to his neighbours in the glorious character of a married
+      man who had his own way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But in the autumn of 1856, the retribution which sooner or later descends
+      on all despotisms, great and small, overtook the iron rule of Old Ronald,
+      and defeated the domestic tyrant on the battle-field of his own fireside.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The children born of the marriage, two in number, were both daughters. The
+      elder had mortally offended her father by marrying imprudently&mdash;in a
+      pecuniary sense. He had declared that she should never enter his house
+      again; and he had mercilessly kept his word. The younger daughter (now
+      eighteen years of age) proved to be also a source of parental inquietude,
+      in another way. She was the passive cause of the revolt which set her
+      father&rsquo;s authority at defiance. For some little time past she had been out
+      of health. After many ineffectual trials of the mild influence of
+      persuasion, her mother&rsquo;s patience at last gave way. Mrs. Ronald insisted&mdash;yes,
+      actually insisted&mdash;on taking Miss Emma to the seaside.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What&rsquo;s the matter with you?&rdquo; Old Ronald asked; detecting something that
+      perplexed him in his wife&rsquo;s look and manner, on the memorable occasion
+      when she asserted a will of her own for the first time in her life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A man of finer observation would have discovered the signs of no ordinary
+      anxiety and alarm, struggling to show themselves openly in the poor
+      woman&rsquo;s face. Her husband only saw a change that puzzled him. &ldquo;Send for
+      Emma,&rdquo; he said, his natural cunning inspiring him with the idea of
+      confronting the mother and daughter, and of seeing what came of <i>that.</i>
+      Emma appeared, plump and short, with large blue eyes, and full pouting
+      lips, and splendid yellow hair: otherwise, miserably pale, languid in her
+      movements, careless in her dress, sullen in her manner. Out of health as
+      her mother said, and as her father saw.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can see for yourself,&rdquo; said Mrs. Ronald, &ldquo;that the girl is pining for
+      fresh air. I have heard Ramsgate recommended.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Ronald looked at his daughter. She represented the one tender place in
+      his nature. It was not a large place; but it did exist. And the proof of
+      it is, that he began to yield&mdash;with the worst possible grace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, we will see about it,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is no time to be lost,&rdquo; Mrs. Ronald persisted. &ldquo;I mean to take her
+      to Ramsgate tomorrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Ronald looked at his wife as a dog looks at the maddened sheep that
+      turns on him. &ldquo;You mean?&rdquo; repeated the stationer. &ldquo;Upon my soul&mdash;what
+      next? You mean? Where is the money to come from? Answer me that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Ronald declined to be drawn into a conjugal dispute, in the presence
+      of her daughter. She took Emma&rsquo;s arm, and led her to the door. There she
+      stopped, and spoke. &ldquo;I have already told you that the girl is ill,&rdquo; she
+      said to her husband. &ldquo;And I now tell you again that she must have the sea
+      air. For God&rsquo;s sake, don&rsquo;t let us quarrel! I have enough to try me without
+      that.&rdquo; She closed the door on herself and her daughter, and left her lord
+      and master standing face to face with the wreck of his own outraged
+      authority.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What further progress was made by the domestic revolt, when the bedroom
+      candles were lit, and the hour of retirement had arrived with the night,
+      is naturally involved in mystery. This alone is certain: On the next
+      morning, the luggage was packed, and the cab was called to the door. Mrs.
+      Ronald spoke her parting words to her husband in private.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope I have not expressed myself too strongly about taking Emma to the
+      seaside,&rdquo; she said, in gentle pleading tones. &ldquo;I am anxious about our
+      girl&rsquo;s health. If I have offended you&mdash;without meaning it, God knows!&mdash;say
+      you forgive me before I go. I have tried honestly, dear, to be a good wife
+      to you. And you have always trusted me, haven&rsquo;t you? And you trust me
+      still?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She took his lean cold hand, and pressed it fervently: her eyes rested on
+      him with a strange mixture of timidity and anxiety. Still in the prime of
+      her life, she preserved the personal attractions&mdash;the fair calm
+      refined face, the natural grace of look and movement&mdash;which had made
+      her marriage to a man old enough to be her father a cause of angry
+      astonishment among all her friends. In the agitation that now possessed
+      her, her colour rose, her eyes brightened; she looked for the moment
+      almost young enough to be Emma&rsquo;s sister. Her husband opened his hard old
+      eyes in surly bewilderment. &ldquo;Why need you make this fuss?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;I
+      don&rsquo;t understand you.&rdquo; Mrs. Ronald shrank at those words as if he had
+      struck her. She kissed him in silence, and joined her daughter in the cab.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For the rest of that day, the persons in the stationer&rsquo;s employment had a
+      hard time of it with their master in the shop. Something had upset Old
+      Ronald. He ordered the shutters to be put up earlier that evening than
+      usual. Instead of going to his club (at the tavern round the corner), he
+      took a long walk in the lonely and lifeless streets of the City by night.
+      There was no disguising it from himself; his wife&rsquo;s behaviour at parting
+      had made him uneasy. He naturally swore at her for taking that liberty,
+      while he lay awake alone in his bed. &ldquo;Damn the woman! What does she mean?&rdquo;
+       The cry of the soul utters itself in various forms of expression. That was
+      the cry of Old Ronald&rsquo;s soul, literally translated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      III
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next morning brought him a letter from Ramsgate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I write immediately to tell you of our safe arrival. We have found
+      comfortable lodgings (as the address at the head of this letter will
+      inform you) in Albion Place. I thank you, and Emma desires to thank you
+      also, for your kindness in providing us with ample means for taking our
+      little trip. It is beautiful weather today; the sea is calm, and the
+      pleasure-boats are out. We do not of course expect to see you here. But if
+      you do, by any chance, overcome your objection to moving out of London, I
+      have a little request to make. Please let me hear of your visit beforehand&mdash;so
+      that I may not omit all needful preparations. I know you dislike being
+      troubled with letters (except on business), so I will not write too
+      frequently. Be so good as to take no news for good news, in the intervals.
+      When you have a few minutes to spare, you will write, I hope, and tell me
+      how you and the shop are going on. Emma sends you her love, in which I beg
+      to join.&rdquo; So the letter was expressed, and so it ended.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They needn&rsquo;t be afraid of my troubling them. Calm seas and
+      pleasure-boats! Stuff and nonsense!&rdquo; Such was the first impression which
+      his wife&rsquo;s report of herself produced on Old Ronald&rsquo;s mind. After a while,
+      he looked at the letter again&mdash;and frowned, and reflected. &ldquo;Please
+      let me hear of your visit beforehand,&rdquo; he repeated to himself, as if the
+      request had been, in some incomprehensible way, offensive to him. He
+      opened the drawer of his desk, and threw the letter into it. When business
+      was over for the day, he went to his club at the tavern, and made himself
+      unusually disagreeable to everybody.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A week passed. In the interval he wrote briefly to his wife. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m all
+      right, and the shop goes on as usual.&rdquo; He also forwarded one or two
+      letters which came for Mrs. Ronald. No more news reached him from
+      Ramsgate. &ldquo;I suppose they&rsquo;re enjoying themselves,&rdquo; he reflected. &ldquo;The
+      house looks queer without them; I&rsquo;ll go to the club.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He stayed later than usual, and drank more than usual, that night. It was
+      nearly one in the morning when he let himself in with his latch-key, and
+      went upstairs to bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Approaching the toilette-table, he found a letter lying on it, addressed
+      to &ldquo;Mr. Ronald&mdash;private.&rdquo; It was not in his wife&rsquo;s handwriting; not
+      in any handwriting known to him. The characters sloped the wrong way, and
+      the envelope bore no postmark. He eyed it over and over suspiciously. At
+      last he opened it, and read these lines:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are advised by a true friend to lose no time in looking after your
+      wife. There are strange doings at the seaside. If you don&rsquo;t believe me,
+      ask Mrs. Turner, Number 1, Slains Row, Ramsgate.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      No address, no date, no signature&mdash;an anonymous letter, the first he
+      had ever received in the long course of his life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His hard brain was in no way affected by the liquor that he had drunk. He
+      sat down on his bed, mechanically folding and refolding the letter. The
+      reference to &ldquo;Mrs. Turner&rdquo; produced no impression on him of any sort: no
+      person of that name, common as it was, happened to be numbered on the list
+      of his friends or his customers. But for one circumstance, he would have
+      thrown the letter aside, in contempt. His memory reverted to his wife&rsquo;s
+      incomprehensible behaviour at parting. Addressing him through that
+      remembrance, the anonymous warning assumed a certain importance to his
+      mind. He went down to his desk, in the back office, and took his wife&rsquo;s
+      letter out of the drawer, and read it through slowly. &ldquo;Ha!&rdquo; he said,
+      pausing as he came across the sentence which requested him to write
+      beforehand, in the unlikely event of his deciding to go to Ramsgate. He
+      thought again of the strangely persistent way in which his wife had dwelt
+      on his trusting her; he recalled her nervous anxious looks, her deepening
+      colour, her agitation at one moment, and then her sudden silence and
+      sudden retreat to the cab. Fed by these irritating influences, the inbred
+      suspicion in his nature began to take fire slowly. She might be innocent
+      enough in asking him to give her notice before he joined her at the
+      seaside&mdash;she might naturally be anxious to omit no needful
+      preparation for his comfort. Still, he didn&rsquo;t like it; no, he didn&rsquo;t like
+      it. An appearance as of a slow collapse passed little by little over his
+      rugged wrinkled face. He looked many years older than his age, as he sat
+      at the desk, with the flaring candlelight close in front of him, thinking.
+      The anonymous letter lay before him, side by side with his wife&rsquo;s letter.
+      On a sudden, he lifted his gray head, and clenched his fist, and struck
+      the venomous written warning as if it had been a living thing that could
+      feel. &ldquo;Whoever you are,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll take your advice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He never even made the attempt to go to bed that night. His pipe helped
+      him through the comfortless and dreary hours. Once or twice he thought of
+      his daughter. Why had her mother been so anxious about her? Why had her
+      mother taken her to Ramsgate? Perhaps, as a blind&mdash;ah, yes, perhaps
+      as a blind! More for the sake of something to do than for any other
+      reason, he packed a handbag with a few necessaries. As soon as the servant
+      was stirring, he ordered her to make him a cup of strong coffee. After
+      that, it was time to show himself as usual, on the opening of the shop. To
+      his astonishment, he found his clerk taking down the shutters, in place of
+      the porter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What does this mean?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;Where is Farnaby?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The clerk looked at his master, and paused aghast with a shutter in his
+      hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good Lord! what has come to you?&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;Are you ill?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Ronald angrily repeated his question: &ldquo;Where is Farnaby?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; was the answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t know? Have you been up to his bedroom?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, he isn&rsquo;t in his bedroom. And, what&rsquo;s more, his bed hasn&rsquo;t been
+      slept in last night. Farnaby&rsquo;s off, sir&mdash;nobody knows where.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Ronald dropped heavily into the nearest chair. This second mystery,
+      following on the mystery of the anonymous letter, staggered him. But his
+      business instincts were still in good working order. He held out his keys
+      to the clerk. &ldquo;Get the petty cash-book,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and see if the money is
+      all right.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The clerk received the keys under protest. <i>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s</i> not the right
+      reading of the riddle,&rdquo; he remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do as I tell you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The clerk opened the money-drawer under the counter; counted the pounds,
+      shillings and pence paid by chance customers up to the closing of the shop
+      on the previous evening; compared the result with the petty cash-book, and
+      answered, &ldquo;Right to a halfpenny.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Satisfied so far, old Ronald condescended to approach the speculative side
+      of the subject, with the assistance of his subordinate. &ldquo;If what you said
+      just now means anything,&rdquo; he resumed, &ldquo;it means that you suspect the
+      reason why Farnaby has left my service. Let&rsquo;s hear it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know that I never liked John Farnaby,&rdquo; the clerk began. &ldquo;An active
+      young fellow and a clever young fellow, I grant you. But a bad servant for
+      all that. False, Mr. Ronald&mdash;false to the marrow of his bones.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Ronald&rsquo;s patience began to give way. &ldquo;Come to the facts,&rdquo; he growled.
+      &ldquo;Why has Farnaby gone off without a word to anybody? Do you know that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know no more than you do,&rdquo; the clerk answered coolly. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t fly into a
+      passion. I have got some facts for you, if you will only give me time.
+      Turn them over in your own mind, and see what they come to. Three days ago
+      I was short of postage-stamps, and I went to the office. Farnaby was
+      there, waiting at the desk where they pay the post-office orders. There
+      must have been ten or a dozen people with letters, orders, and what not,
+      between him and me. I got behind him quietly, and looked over his
+      shoulder. I saw the clerk give him the money for his post-office order.
+      Five pounds in gold, which I reckoned as they lay on the counter, and a
+      bank-note besides, which he crumpled up in his hand. I can&rsquo;t tell you how
+      much it was for; I only know it <i>was</i> a bank-note. Just ask yourself
+      how a porter on twenty shillings a week (with a mother who takes in
+      washing, and a father who takes in drink) comes to have a correspondent
+      who sends him an order for five sovereigns&mdash;and a bank-note, value
+      unknown. Say he&rsquo;s turned betting-man in secret. Very good. There&rsquo;s the
+      post-office order, in that case, to show that he&rsquo;s got a run of luck. If
+      he has got a run of luck, tell me this&mdash;why does he leave his place
+      like a thief in the night? He&rsquo;s not a slave; he&rsquo;s not even an apprentice.
+      When he thinks he can better himself, he has no earthly need to keep it a
+      secret that he means to leave your service. He may have met with an
+      accident, to be sure. But that&rsquo;s not <i>my</i> belief. I say he&rsquo;s up to
+      some mischief And now comes the question: What are we to do?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Ronald, listening with his head down, and without interposing a word
+      on his own part, made an extraordinary answer. &ldquo;Leave it,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Leave
+      it till tomorrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why?&rdquo; the clerk answered, without ceremony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Ronald made another extraordinary answer. &ldquo;Because I am obliged to go
+      out of town for the day. Look after the business. The ironmonger&rsquo;s man
+      over the way will help you to put up the shutters at night. If anybody
+      inquires for me, say I shall be back tomorrow.&rdquo; With those parting
+      directions, heedless of the effect that he had produced on the clerk, he
+      looked at his watch, and left the shop.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      IV
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The bell which gave five minutes&rsquo; notice of the starting of the Ramsgate
+      train had just rung.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While the other travellers were hastening to the platform, two persons
+      stood passively apart as if they had not even yet decided on taking their
+      places in the train. One of the two was a smart young man in a cheap
+      travelling suit; mainly noticeable by his florid complexion, his restless
+      dark eyes, and his profusely curling black hair. The other was a
+      middle-aged woman in frowsy garments; tall and stout, sly and sullen. The
+      smart young man stood behind the uncongenial-looking person with whom he
+      had associated himself, using her as a screen to hide him while he watched
+      the travellers on their way to the train. As the bell rang, the woman
+      suddenly faced her companion, and pointed to the railway clock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you waiting to make up your mind till the train has gone?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The young man frowned impatiently. &ldquo;I am waiting for a person whom I
+      expect to see,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;If the person travels by this train, we
+      shall travel by it. If not, we shall come back here, and look out for the
+      next train, and so on till night-time, if it&rsquo;s necessary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman fixed her small scowling gray eyes on the man as he replied in
+      those terms. &ldquo;Look here!&rdquo; she broke out. &ldquo;I like to see my way before me.
+      You&rsquo;re a stranger, young Mister; and it&rsquo;s as likely as not you&rsquo;ve given me
+      a false name and address. That don&rsquo;t matter. False names are commoner than
+      true ones, in my line of life. But mind this! I don&rsquo;t stir a step farther
+      till I&rsquo;ve got half the money in my hand, and my return-ticket there and
+      back.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hold your tongue!&rdquo; the man suddenly interposed in a whisper. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s all
+      right. I&rsquo;ll get the tickets.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked while he spoke at an elderly traveller, hastening by with his
+      head down, deep in thought, noticing nobody. The traveller was Mr. Ronald.
+      The young man, who had that moment recognized him, was his runaway porter,
+      John Farnaby.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Returning with the tickets, the porter took his repellent travelling
+      companion by the arm, and hurried her along the platform to the train.
+      &ldquo;The money!&rdquo; she whispered, as they took their places. Farnaby handed it
+      to her, ready wrapped up in a morsel of paper. She opened the paper,
+      satisfied herself that no trick had been played her, and leaned back in
+      her corner to go to sleep. The train started. Old Ronald travelled by the
+      second class; his porter and his porter&rsquo;s companion accompanied him
+      secretly by the third.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      V
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was still early in the afternoon when Mr. Ronald descended the narrow
+      street which leads from the high land of the South-Eastern railway station
+      to the port of Ramsgate. Asking his way of the first policeman whom he
+      met, he turned to the left, and reached the cliff on which the houses in
+      Albion Place are situated. Farnaby followed him at a discreet distance;
+      and the woman followed Farnaby.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Arrived in sight of the lodging-house, Mr. Ronald paused&mdash;partly to
+      recover his breath, partly to compose himself. He was conscious of a
+      change of feeling as he looked up at the windows: his errand suddenly
+      assumed a contemptible aspect in his own eyes. He almost felt ashamed of
+      himself. After twenty years of undisturbed married life, was it possible
+      that he had doubted his wife&mdash;and that at the instigation of a
+      stranger whose name even was unknown to him? &ldquo;If she was to step out in
+      the balcony, and see me down here,&rdquo; he thought, &ldquo;what a fool I should
+      look!&rdquo; He felt half-inclined, at the moment when he lifted the knocker of
+      the door, to put it back again quietly, and return to London. No! it was
+      too late. The maid-servant was hanging up her birdcage in the area of the
+      house; the maid-servant had seen him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does Mrs. Ronald lodge here?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The girl lifted her eyebrows and opened her mouth&mdash;stared at him in
+      speechless confusion&mdash;and disappeared in the kitchen regions. This
+      strange reception of his inquiry irritated him unreasonably. He knocked
+      with the absurd violence of a man who vents his anger on the first
+      convenient thing that he can find. The landlady opened the door, and
+      looked at him in stern and silent surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does Mrs. Ronald lodge here?&rdquo; he repeated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The landlady answered with some appearance of effort&mdash;the effort of a
+      person who was carefully considering her words before she permitted them
+      to pass her lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mrs. Ronald has taken rooms here. But she has not occupied them yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not occupied them yet?&rdquo; The words bewildered him as if they had been
+      spoken in an unknown tongue. He stood stupidly silent on the doorstep. His
+      anger was gone; an all-mastering fear throbbed heavily at his heart. The
+      landlady looked at him, and said to her secret self: &ldquo;Just what I
+      suspected; there <i>is</i> something wrong!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps I have not sufficiently explained myself, sir,&rdquo; she resumed with
+      grave politeness. &ldquo;Mrs. Ronald told me that she was staying at Ramsgate
+      with friends. She would move into my house, she said, when her friends
+      left&mdash;but they had not quite settled the day yet. She calls here for
+      letters. Indeed, she was here early this morning, to pay the second week&rsquo;s
+      rent. I asked when she thought of moving in. She didn&rsquo;t seem to know; her
+      friends (as I understood) had not made up their minds. I must say I
+      thought it a little odd. Would you like to leave any message?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He recovered himself sufficiently to speak. &ldquo;Can you tell me where her
+      friends live?&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The landlady shook her head. &ldquo;No, indeed. I offered to save Mrs. Ronald
+      the trouble of calling here, by sending letters or cards to her present
+      residence. She declined the offer&mdash;and she has never mentioned the
+      address. Would you like to come in and rest, sir? I will see that your
+      card is taken care of, if you wish to leave it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, ma&rsquo;am&mdash;it doesn&rsquo;t matter&mdash;good morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The landlady looked after him as he descended the house-steps. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s the
+      husband, Peggy,&rdquo; she said to the servant, waiting inquisitively behind
+      her. &ldquo;Poor old gentleman! And such a respectable-looking woman, too!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Ronald walked mechanically to the end of the row of houses, and met
+      the wide grand view of sea and sky. There were some seats behind the
+      railing which fenced the edge of the cliff. He sat down, perfectly
+      stupefied and helpless, on the nearest bench.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the close of life, the loss of a man&rsquo;s customary nourishment extends
+      its debilitating influence rapidly from his body to his mind. Mr. Ronald
+      had tasted nothing but his cup of coffee since the previous night. His
+      mind began to wander strangely; he was not angry or frightened or
+      distressed. Instead of thinking of what had just happened, he was thinking
+      of his young days when he had been a cricket-player. One special game
+      revived in his memory, at which he had been struck on the head by the
+      ball. &ldquo;Just the same feeling,&rdquo; he reflected vacantly, with his hat off,
+      and his hand on his forehead. &ldquo;Dazed and giddy&mdash;just the same
+      feeling!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He leaned back on the bench, and fixed his eyes on the sea, and wondered
+      languidly what had come to him. Farnaby and the woman, still following,
+      waited round the corner where they could just keep him in view.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The blue lustre of the sky was without a cloud; the sunny sea leapt under
+      the fresh westerly breeze. From the beach, the cries of children at play,
+      the shouts of donkey-boys driving their poor beasts, the distant notes of
+      brass instruments playing a waltz, and the mellow music of the small waves
+      breaking on the sand, rose joyously together on the fragrant air. On the
+      next bench, a dirty old boatman was prosing to a stupid old visitor. Mr.
+      Ronald listened, with a sense of vacant content in the mere act of
+      listening. The boatman&rsquo;s words found their way to his ears like the other
+      sounds that were abroad in the air. &ldquo;Yes; them&rsquo;s the Goodwin Sands, where
+      you see the lightship. And that steamer there, towing a vessel into the
+      harbour, that&rsquo;s the Ramsgate Tug. Do you know what I should like to see? I
+      should like to see the Ramsgate Tug blow up. Why? I&rsquo;ll tell you why. I
+      belong to Broadstairs; I don&rsquo;t belong to Ramsgate. Very well. I&rsquo;m idling
+      here, as you may see, without one copper piece in my pocket to rub against
+      another. What trade do I belong to? I don&rsquo;t belong to no trade; I belong
+      to a boat. The boat&rsquo;s rotting at Broadstairs, for want of work. And all
+      along of what? All along of the Tug. The Tug has took the bread out of our
+      mouths: me and my mates. Wait a bit; I&rsquo;ll show you how. What did a ship
+      do, in the good old times, when she got on them sands&mdash;Goodwin Sands?
+      Went to pieces, if it come on to blow; or got sucked down little by little
+      when it was fair weather. Now I&rsquo;m coming to it. What did We do (in the
+      good old times, mind you) when we happened to see that ship in distress?
+      Out with our boat; blow high or blow low, out with our boat. And saved the
+      lives of the crew, did you say? Well, yes; saving the crew was part of the
+      day&rsquo;s work, to be sure; the part we didn&rsquo;t get paid for. We saved <i>the
+      cargo,</i> Master! and got salvage!! Hundreds of pounds, I tell you,
+      divided amongst us by law!!! Ah, those times are gone. A parcel of sneaks
+      get together, and subscribe to build a Steam-Tug. When a ship gets on the
+      sands now, out goes the Tug, night and day alike, and brings her safe into
+      harbour, and takes the bread out of our mouths. Shameful&mdash;that&rsquo;s what
+      I call it&mdash;shameful.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The last words of the boatman&rsquo;s lament fell lower, lower, lower on Mr.
+      Ronald&rsquo;s ears&mdash;he lost them altogether&mdash;he lost the view of the
+      sea&mdash;he lost the sense of the wind blowing over him. Suddenly, he was
+      roused as if from a deep sleep. On one side, the man from Broadstairs was
+      shaking him by the collar. &ldquo;I say, Master, cheer up; what&rsquo;s come to you?&rdquo;
+       On the other side, a compassionate lady was offering her smelling-bottle.
+      &ldquo;I am afraid, sir, you have fainted.&rdquo; He struggled to his feet, and
+      vacantly thanked the lady. The man from Broadstairs&mdash;with an eye to
+      salvage&mdash;took charge of the human wreck, and towed him to the nearest
+      public-house. &ldquo;A chop and a glass of brandy-and-water,&rdquo; said this good
+      Samaritan of the nineteenth century. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s what you want. I&rsquo;m peckish
+      myself, and I&rsquo;ll keep you company.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He was perfectly passive in the hands of any one who would take charge of
+      him; he submitted as if he had been the boatman&rsquo;s dog, and had heard the
+      whistle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It could only be truly said that he had come to himself, when there had
+      been time enough for him to feel the reanimating influence of the food and
+      drink. Then he got to his feet, and looked with incredulous wonder at the
+      companion of his meal. The man from Broadstairs opened his greasy lips,
+      and was silenced by the sudden appearance of a gold coin between Mr.
+      Ronald&rsquo;s finger and thumb. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t speak to me; pay the bill, and bring me
+      the change outside.&rdquo; When the boatman joined him, he was reading a letter;
+      walking to and fro, and speaking at intervals to himself. &ldquo;God help me,
+      have I lost my senses? I don&rsquo;t know what to do next.&rdquo; He referred to the
+      letter again: &ldquo;if you don&rsquo;t believe me, ask Mrs. Turner, Number 1, Slains
+      Row, Ramsgate.&rdquo; He put the letter back in his pocket, and rallied
+      suddenly. &ldquo;Slains Row,&rdquo; he said, turning to the boatman. &ldquo;Take me there
+      directly, and keep the change for yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The boatman&rsquo;s gratitude was (apparently) beyond expression in words. He
+      slapped his pocket cheerfully, and that was all. Leading the way inland,
+      he went downhill, and uphill again&mdash;then turned aside towards the
+      eastern extremity of the town.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Farnaby, still following, with the woman behind him, stopped when the
+      boatman diverged towards the east, and looked up at the name of the
+      street. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve got my instructions,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;I know where he&rsquo;s going.
+      Step out! We&rsquo;ll get there before him, by another way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Ronald and his guide reached a row of poor little houses, with poor
+      little gardens in front of them and behind them. The back windows looked
+      out on downs and fields lying on either side of the road to Broadstairs.
+      It was a lost and lonely spot. The guide stopped, and put a question with
+      inquisitive respect. &ldquo;What number, sir?&rdquo; Mr. Ronald had sufficiently
+      recovered himself to keep his own counsel. &ldquo;That will do,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You
+      can leave me.&rdquo; The boatman waited a moment. Mr. Ronald looked at him. The
+      boatman was slow to understand that his leadership had gone from him.
+      &ldquo;You&rsquo;re sure you don&rsquo;t want me any more?&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Quite sure,&rdquo; Mr.
+      Ronald answered. The man from Broadstairs retired&mdash;with his salvage
+      to comfort him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Number 1 was at the farther extremity of the row of houses. When Mr.
+      Ronald rang the bell, the spies were already posted. The woman loitered on
+      the road, within view of the door. Farnaby was out of sight, round the
+      corner, watching the house over the low wooden palings of the back garden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A lazy-looking man, in his shirt sleeves, opened the door. &ldquo;Mrs. Turner at
+      home?&rdquo; he repeated. &ldquo;Well, she&rsquo;s at home; but she&rsquo;s too busy to see
+      anybody. What&rsquo;s your pleasure?&rdquo; Mr. Ronald declined to accept excuses or
+      to answer questions. &ldquo;I must see Mrs. Turner directly,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;on
+      important business.&rdquo; His tone and manner had their effect on the lazy man.
+      &ldquo;What name?&rdquo; he asked. Mr. Ronald declined to mention his name. &ldquo;Give my
+      message,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I won&rsquo;t detain Mrs. Turner more than a minute.&rdquo; The
+      man hesitated&mdash;and opened the door of the front parlour. An old woman
+      was fast asleep on a ragged little sofa. The man gave up the front
+      parlour, and tried the back parlour next. It was empty. &ldquo;Please to wait
+      here,&rdquo; he said&mdash;and went away to deliver his message.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The parlour was a miserably furnished room. Through the open window, the
+      patch of back garden was barely visible under fluttering rows of linen
+      hanging out on lines to dry. A pack of dirty cards, and some plain
+      needlework, littered the bare little table. A cheap American clock ticked
+      with stern and steady activity on the mantelpiece. The smell of onions was
+      in the air. A torn newspaper, with stains of beer on it, lay on the floor.
+      There was some sinister influence in the place which affected Mr. Ronald
+      painfully. He felt himself trembling, and sat down on one of the rickety
+      chairs. The minutes followed one another wearily. He heard a trampling of
+      feet in the room above&mdash;then a door opened and closed&mdash;then the
+      rustle of a woman&rsquo;s dress on the stairs. In a moment more, the handle of
+      the parlour door was turned. He rose, in anticipation of Mrs. Turner&rsquo;s
+      appearance. The door opened. He found himself face to face with his wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      VI
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      John Farnaby, posted at the garden paling, suddenly lifted his head and
+      looked towards the open window of the back parlour. He reflected for a
+      moment&mdash;and then joined his female companion on the road in front of
+      the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I want you at the back garden,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Come along!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How much longer am I to be kept kicking my heels in this wretched hole?&rdquo;
+       the woman asked sulkily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As much longer as I please&mdash;if you want to go back to London with
+      the other half of the money.&rdquo; He showed it to her as he spoke. She
+      followed him without another word.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Arrived at the paling, Farnaby pointed to the window, and to the back
+      garden door, which was left ajar. &ldquo;Speak softly,&rdquo; he whispered. &ldquo;Do you
+      hear voices in the house?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t hear what they&rsquo;re talking about, if that&rsquo;s what you mean.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t hear, either. Now mind what I tell you&mdash;I have reasons of my
+      own for getting a little nearer to that window. Sit down under the paling,
+      so that you can&rsquo;t be seen from the house. If you hear a row, you may take
+      it for granted that I am found out. In that case, go back to London by the
+      next train, and meet me at the terminus at two o&rsquo;clock tomorrow afternoon.
+      If nothing happens, wait where you are till you hear from me or see me
+      again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He laid his hand on the low paling, and vaulted over it. The linen hanging
+      up in the garden to dry offered him a means of concealment (if any one
+      happened to look out of the window) of which he skilfully availed himself.
+      The dust-bin was at the side of the house, situated at a right angle to
+      the parlour window. He was safe behind the bin, provided no one appeared
+      on the path which connected the patch of garden at the back with the patch
+      in front. Here, running the risk, he waited and listened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The first voice that reached his ears was the voice of Mrs. Ronald. She
+      was speaking with a firmness of tone that astonished him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hear me to the end, Benjamin,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I have a right to ask as much
+      as that of my husband, and I do ask it. If I had been bent on nothing but
+      saving the reputation of our miserable girl, you would have a right to
+      blame me for keeping you ignorant of the calamity that has fallen on us&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There the voice of her husband interposed sternly. &ldquo;Calamity! Say
+      disgrace, everlasting disgrace.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Ronald did not notice the interruption. Sadly and patiently she went
+      on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I had a harder trial still to face,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I had to save her, in
+      spite of herself, from the wretch who has brought this infamy on us. He
+      has acted throughout in cold blood; it is his interest to marry her, and
+      from first to last he has plotted to force the marriage on us. For God&rsquo;s
+      sake, don&rsquo;t speak loud! She is in the room above us; if she hears you it
+      will be the death of her. Don&rsquo;t suppose I am talking at random; I have
+      looked at his letters to her; I have got the confession of the
+      servant-girl. Such a confession! Emma is his victim, body and soul. I know
+      it! I know that she sent him money (<i>my</i> money) from this place. I
+      know that the servant (at <i>her</i> instigation) informed him by
+      telegraph of the birth of the child. Oh, Benjamin, don&rsquo;t curse the poor
+      helpless infant&mdash;such a sweet little girl! don&rsquo;t think of it! I don&rsquo;t
+      think of it! Show me the letter that brought you here; I want to see the
+      letter. Ah, I can tell you who wrote it! <i>He</i> wrote it. In his own
+      interests; always with his own interests in view. Don&rsquo;t you see it for
+      yourself? If I succeed in keeping this shame and misery a secret from
+      everybody&mdash;if I take Emma away, to some place abroad, on pretence of
+      her health&mdash;there is an end of his hope of becoming your son-in-law;
+      there is an end of his being taken into the business. Yes! he, the
+      low-lived vagabond who puts up the shop-shutters, <i>he</i> looks forward
+      to being taken into partnership, and succeeding you when you die! Isn&rsquo;t
+      his object in writing that letter as plain to you now as the heaven above
+      us? His one chance is to set your temper in a flame, to provoke the
+      scandal of a discovery&mdash;and to force the marriage on us as the only
+      remedy left. Am I wrong in making any sacrifice, rather than bind our girl
+      for life, our own flesh and blood, to such a man as that? Surely you can
+      feel for me, and forgive me, now. How could I own the truth to you, before
+      I left London, knowing you as I do? How could I expect you to be patient,
+      to go into hiding, to pass under a false name&mdash;to do all the
+      degrading things that must be done, if we are to keep Emma out of this
+      man&rsquo;s way? No! I know no more than you do where Farnaby is to be found.
+      Hush! there is the door-bell. It&rsquo;s the doctor&rsquo;s time for his visit. I tell
+      you again I don&rsquo;t know&mdash;on my sacred word of honour, I don&rsquo;t know
+      where Farnaby is. Oh, be quiet! be quiet! there&rsquo;s the doctor going
+      upstairs! don&rsquo;t let the doctor hear you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      So far, she had succeeded in composing her husband. But the fury which she
+      had innocently roused in him, in her eagerness to justify herself, now
+      broke beyond all control. &ldquo;You lie!&rdquo; he cried furiously. &ldquo;If you know
+      everything else about it, you know where Farnaby is. I&rsquo;ll be the death of
+      him, if I swing for it on the gallows! Where is he? Where is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A shriek from the upper room silenced him before Mrs. Ronald could speak
+      again. His daughter had heard him; his daughter had recognized his voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A cry of terror from her mother echoed the cry from above; the sound of
+      the opening and closing of the door followed instantly. Then there was a
+      momentary silence. Then Mrs. Ronald&rsquo;s voice was heard from the upper room
+      calling to the nurse, asleep in the front parlour. The nurse&rsquo;s gruff tones
+      were just audible, answering from the parlour door. There was another
+      interval of silence; broken by another voice&mdash;a stranger&rsquo;s voice&mdash;speaking
+      at the open window, close by.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Follow me upstairs, sir, directly,&rdquo; the voice said in peremptory tones.
+      &ldquo;As your daughter&rsquo;s medical attendant, I tell you in the plainest terms
+      that you have seriously frightened her. In her critical condition, I
+      decline to answer for her life, unless you make the attempt at least to
+      undo the mischief you have done. Whether you mean it or not, soothe her
+      with kind words; say you have forgiven her. No! I have nothing to do with
+      your domestic troubles; I have only my patient to think of. I don&rsquo;t care
+      what she asks of you, you must give way to her now. If she falls into
+      convulsions, she will die&mdash;and her death will be at your door.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      So, with feebler and feebler interruptions from Mr. Ronald, the doctor
+      spoke. It ended plainly in his being obeyed. The departing footsteps of
+      the men were the next sounds to be heard. After that, there was a pause of
+      silence&mdash;a long pause, broken by Mrs. Ronald, calling again from the
+      upper regions. &ldquo;Take the child into the back parlour, nurse, and wait till
+      I come to you. It&rsquo;s cooler there, at this time of the day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The wailing of an infant, and the gruff complaining of the nurse, were the
+      next sounds that reached Farnaby in his hiding place. The nurse was
+      grumbling to herself over the grievance of having been awakened from her
+      sleep. &ldquo;After being up all night, a person wants rest. There&rsquo;s no rest for
+      anybody in this house. My head&rsquo;s as heavy as lead, and every bone in me
+      has got an ache in it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Before long, the renewed silence indicated that she had succeeded in
+      hushing the child to sleep. Farnaby forgot the restraints of caution for
+      the first time. His face flushed with excitement; he ventured nearer to
+      the window, in his eagerness to find out what might happen next. After no
+      long interval, the next sound came&mdash;a sound of heavy breathing, which
+      told him that the drowsy nurse was falling asleep again. The window-sill
+      was within reach of his hands. He waited until the heavy breathing
+      deepened to snoring. Then he drew himself up by the window-sill, and
+      looked into the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The nurse was fast asleep in an armchair; and the child was fast asleep on
+      her lap.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He dropped softly to the ground again. Taking off his shoes, and putting
+      them in his pockets, he ascended the two or three steps which led to the
+      half-open back garden door. Arrived in the passage, he could just hear
+      them talking upstairs. They were no doubt still absorbed in their
+      troubles; he had only the servant to dread. The splashing of water in the
+      kitchen informed him that she was safely occupied in washing. Slowly and
+      softly he opened the back parlour door, and stole across the room to the
+      nurse&rsquo;s chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One of her hands still rested on the child. The serious risk was the risk
+      of waking her, if he lost his presence of mind and hurried it!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He glanced at the American clock on the mantelpiece. The result relieved
+      him; it was not so late as he had feared. He knelt down, to steady
+      himself, as nearly as possible on a level with the nurse&rsquo;s knees. By a
+      hair&rsquo;s breadth at a time, he got both hands under the child. By a hair&rsquo;s
+      breadth at a time, he drew the child away from her; leaving her hand
+      resting on her lap by degrees so gradual that the lightest sleeper could
+      not have felt the change. That done (barring accidents), all was done.
+      Keeping the child resting easily on his left arm, he had his right hand
+      free to shut the door again. Arrived at the garden steps, a slight change
+      passed over the sleeping infant&rsquo;s face&mdash;the delicate little creature
+      shivered as it felt the full flow of the open air. He softly laid over its
+      face a corner of the woollen shawl in which it was wrapped. The child
+      reposed as quietly on his arm as if it had still been on the nurse&rsquo;s lap.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In a minute more he was at the paling. The woman rose to receive him, with
+      the first smile that had crossed her face since they had left London.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So you&rsquo;ve got the baby,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;Well, you <i>are</i> a deep one!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take it,&rdquo; he answered irritably. &ldquo;We haven&rsquo;t a moment to lose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Only stopping to put on his shoes, he led the way towards the more central
+      part of the town. The first person he met directed him to the railway
+      station. It was close by. In five minutes more the woman and the baby were
+      safe in the train to London.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There&rsquo;s the other half of the money,&rdquo; he said, handing it to her through
+      the carriage window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman eyed the child in her arms with a frowning expression of doubt.
+      &ldquo;All very well as long as it lasts,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;And what after that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course, I shall call and see you,&rdquo; he answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked hard at him, and expressed the whole value she set on that
+      assurance in four words. &ldquo;Of course you will!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The train started for London. Farnaby watched it, as it left the platform,
+      with a look of unfeigned relief. &ldquo;There!&rdquo; he thought to himself. &ldquo;Emma&rsquo;s
+      reputation is safe enough now! When we are married, we mustn&rsquo;t have a
+      love-child in the way of our prospects in life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Leaving the station, he stopped at the refreshment room, and drank a glass
+      of brandy-and-water. &ldquo;Something to screw me up,&rdquo; he thought, &ldquo;for what is
+      to come.&rdquo; What was to come (after he had got rid of the child) had been
+      carefully considered by him, on the journey to Ramsgate. &ldquo;Emma&rsquo;s
+      husband-that-is-to-be&rdquo;&mdash;he had reasoned it out&mdash;&ldquo;will naturally
+      be the first person Emma wants to see, when the loss of the baby has upset
+      the house. If Old Ronald has a grain of affection left in him, he must let
+      her marry me after <i>that!&rdquo;</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Acting on this view of his position, he took the way that led back to
+      Slains Row, and rang the door-bell as became a visitor who had no reasons
+      for concealment now.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The household was doubtless already disorganized by the discovery of the
+      child&rsquo;s disappearance. Neither master nor servant was active in answering
+      the bell. Farnaby submitted to be kept waiting with perfect composure.
+      There are occasions on which a handsome man is bound to put his personal
+      advantages to their best use. He took out his pocket-comb, and touched up
+      the arrangement of his whiskers with a skilled and gentle hand.
+      Approaching footsteps made themselves heard along the passage at last.
+      Farnaby put back his comb, and buttoned his coat briskly. &ldquo;Now for it!&rdquo; he
+      said, as the door was opened at last.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      THE STORY
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      BOOK THE FIRST. AMELIUS AMONG THE SOCIALISTS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 1
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Sixteen years after the date of Mr. Ronald&rsquo;s disastrous discovery at
+      Ramsgate&mdash;that is to say, in the year 1872&mdash;the steamship <i>Aquila</i>
+      left the port of New York, bound for Liverpool.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was the month of September. The passenger-list of the <i>Aquila</i> had
+      comparatively few names inscribed on it. In the autumn season, the voyage
+      from America to England, but for the remunerative value of the cargo,
+      would prove to be for the most part a profitless voyage to shipowners. The
+      flow of passengers, at that time of year, sets steadily the other way.
+      Americans are returning from Europe to their own country. Tourists have
+      delayed the voyage until the fierce August heat of the United States has
+      subsided, and the delicious Indian summer is ready to welcome them. At bed
+      and board the passengers by the <i>Aquila</i> on her homeward voyage had
+      plenty of room, and the choicest morsels for everybody alike on the well
+      spread dinner-table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The wind was favourable, the weather was lovely. Cheerfulness and
+      good-humour pervaded the ship from stem to stern. The courteous captain
+      did the honours of the cabin-table with the air of a gentleman who was
+      receiving friends in his own house. The handsome doctor promenaded the
+      deck arm-in-arm with ladies in course of rapid recovery from the first
+      gastric consequences of travelling by sea. The excellent chief engineer,
+      musical in his leisure moments to his fingers&rsquo; ends, played the fiddle in
+      his cabin, accompanied on the flute by that young Apollo of the Atlantic
+      trade, the steward&rsquo;s mate. Only on the third morning of the voyage was the
+      harmony on board the <i>Aquila</i> disturbed by a passing moment of
+      discord&mdash;due to an unexpected addition to the ranks of the
+      passengers, in the shape of a lost bird!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was merely a weary little land-bird (blown out of its course, as the
+      learned in such matters supposed); and it perched on one of the yards to
+      rest and recover itself after its long flight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The instant the creature was discovered, the insatiable Anglo-Saxon
+      delight in killing birds, from the majestic eagle to the contemptible
+      sparrow, displayed itself in its full frenzy. The crew ran about the
+      decks, the passengers rushed into their cabins, eager to seize the first
+      gun and to have the first shot. An old quarter-master of the <i>Aquila</i>
+      was the enviable man, who first found the means of destruction ready to
+      his hand. He lifted the gun to his shoulder, he had his finger on the
+      trigger, when he was suddenly pounced upon by one of the passengers&mdash;a
+      young, slim, sunburnt, active man&mdash;who snatched away the gun,
+      discharged it over the side of the vessel, and turned furiously on the
+      quarter-master. &ldquo;You wretch! would you kill the poor weary bird that
+      trusts our hospitality, and only asks us to give it a rest? That little
+      harmless thing is as much one of God&rsquo;s creatures as you are. I&rsquo;m ashamed
+      of you&mdash;I&rsquo;m horrified at you&mdash;you&rsquo;ve got bird-murder in your
+      face; I hate the sight of you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The quarter-master&mdash;a large grave fat man, slow alike in his bodily
+      and his mental movements&mdash;listened to this extraordinary remonstrance
+      with a fixed stare of amazement, and an open mouth from which the unspat
+      tobacco-juice tricked in little brown streams. When the impetuous young
+      gentleman paused (not for want of words, merely for want of breath), the
+      quarter-master turned about, and addressed himself to the audience
+      gathered round. &ldquo;Gentlemen,&rdquo; he said, with a Roman brevity, &ldquo;this young
+      fellow is mad.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain&rsquo;s voice checked the general outbreak of laughter. &ldquo;That will
+      do, quarter-master. Let it be understood that nobody is to shoot the bird&mdash;and
+      let me suggest to <i>you,</i> sir, that you might have expressed your
+      sentiments quite as effectually in less violent language.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Addressed in those terms, the impetuous young man burst into another fit
+      of excitement. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re quite right, sir! I deserve every word you have
+      said to me; I feel I have disgraced myself.&rdquo; He ran after the
+      quartermaster, and seized him by both hands. &ldquo;I beg your pardon; I beg
+      your pardon with all my heart. You would have served me right if you had
+      thrown me overboard after the language I used to you. Pray excuse my quick
+      temper; pray forgive me. What do you say? &lsquo;Let bygones <i>be</i> bygones&rsquo;?
+      That&rsquo;s a capital way of putting it. You&rsquo;re a thorough good fellow. If I
+      can ever be of the smallest use to you (there&rsquo;s my card and address in
+      London), let me know it; I entreat you let me know it.&rdquo; He returned in a
+      violent hurry to the captain. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve made it up with the quarter-master,
+      sir. He forgives me; he bears no malice. Allow me to congratulate you on
+      having such a good Christian in your ship. I wish I was like him! Excuse
+      me, ladies and gentlemen, for the disturbance I have made. It shan&rsquo;t
+      happen again&mdash;I promise you that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The male travellers in general looked at each other, and seemed to agree
+      with the quarter-master&rsquo;s opinion of their fellow-passenger. The women,
+      touched by his evident sincerity, and charmed with his handsome blushing
+      eager face, agreed that he was quite right to save the poor bird, and that
+      it would be all the better for the weaker part of creation generally if
+      other men were more like him. While the various opinions were still in
+      course of expression, the sound of the luncheon bell cleared the deck of
+      the passengers, with two exceptions. One was the impetuous young man. The
+      other was a middle-aged traveller, with a grizzled beard and a penetrating
+      eye, who had silently observed the proceedings, and who now took the
+      opportunity of introducing himself to the hero of the moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you not going to take any luncheon?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir. Among the people I have lived with we don&rsquo;t eat at intervals of
+      three or four hours, all day long.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you excuse me,&rdquo; pursued the other, &ldquo;if I own I should like to know
+      <i>what</i> people you have been living with? My name is Hethcote; I was
+      associated, at one time of my life, with a college devoted to the training
+      of young men. From what I have seen and heard this morning, I fancy you
+      have not been educated on any of the recognized systems that are popular
+      at the present day. Am I right?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The excitable young man suddenly became the picture of resignation, and
+      answered in a formula of words as if he was repeating a lesson.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am Claude-Amelius-Goldenheart. Aged twenty-one. Son, and only child, of
+      the late Claude Goldenheart, of Shedfield Heath, Buckinghamshire, England.
+      I have been brought up by the Primitive Christian Socialists, at Tadmor
+      Community, State of Illinois. I have inherited an income of five hundred a
+      year. And I am now, with the approval of the Community, going to London to
+      see life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Hethcote received this copious flow of information, in some doubt
+      whether he had been made the victim of coarse raillery, or whether he had
+      merely heard a quaint statement of facts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Claude-Amelius-Goldenheart saw that he had produced an unfavourable
+      impression, and hastened to set himself right.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Excuse me, sir,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I am not making game of you, as you seem to
+      suppose. We are taught to be courteous to everybody, in our Community. The
+      truth is, there seems to be something odd about me (I&rsquo;m sure I don&rsquo;t know
+      what), which makes people whom I meet on my travels curious to know who I
+      am. If you&rsquo;ll please to remember, it&rsquo;s a long way from Illinois to New
+      York, and curious strangers are not scarce on the journey. When one is
+      obliged to keep on saying the same thing over and over again, a form saves
+      a deal of trouble. I have made a form for myself&mdash;which is
+      respectfully at the disposal of any person who does me the honour to wish
+      for my acquaintance. Will that do, sir? Very well, then; shake hands, to
+      show you&rsquo;re satisfied.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Hethcote shook hands, more than satisfied. He found it impossible to
+      resist the bright honest brown eyes, the simple winning cordial manner of
+      the young fellow with the quaint formula and the strange name. &ldquo;Come, Mr.
+      Goldenheart,&rdquo; he said, leading the way to a seat on deck, &ldquo;let us sit down
+      comfortably, and have a talk.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Anything you like, sir&mdash;but don&rsquo;t call me Mr. Goldenheart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, it sounds formal. And, besides, you&rsquo;re old enough to be my father;
+      it&rsquo;s <i>my</i> duty to call <i>you</i> Mister&mdash;or Sir, as we say to
+      our elders at Tadmor. I have left all my friends behind me at the
+      Community&mdash;and I feel lonely out here on this big ocean, among
+      strangers. Do me a kindness, sir. Call me by my Christian name; and give
+      me a friendly slap on the back if you find we get along smoothly in the
+      course of the day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Which of your names shall it be?&rdquo; Mr. Hethcote asked, humouring this odd
+      lad. &ldquo;Claude?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. Not Claude. The Primitive Christians said Claude was a finicking
+      French name. Call me Amelius, and I shall begin to feel at home again. If
+      you&rsquo;re in a hurry, cut it down to three letters (as they did at Tadmor),
+      and call me Mel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very good,&rdquo; said Mr. Hethcote. &ldquo;Now, my friend Amelius (or Mel), I am
+      going to speak out plainly, as you do. The Primitive Christian Socialists
+      must have great confidence in their system of education, to turn you
+      adrift in the world without a companion to look after you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&rsquo;ve hit it, sir,&rdquo; Amelius answered coolly. &ldquo;They have unlimited
+      confidence in their system of education. And I&rsquo;m a proof of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have relations in London, I suppose?&rdquo; Mr. Hethcote proceeded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For the first time the face of Amelius showed a shadow of sadness on it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have relations,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;But I have promised never to claim their
+      hospitality. &lsquo;They are hard and worldly; and they will make you hard and
+      worldly, too.&rsquo; That&rsquo;s what my father said to me on his deathbed.&rdquo; He took
+      off his hat when he mentioned his father&rsquo;s death, and came to a sudden
+      pause&mdash;with his head bent down, like a man absorbed in thought. In
+      less than a minute he put on his hat again, and looked up with his bright
+      winning smile. &ldquo;We say a little prayer for the loved ones who are gone,
+      when we speak of them,&rdquo; he explained. &ldquo;But we don&rsquo;t say it out loud, for
+      fear of seeming to parade our religious convictions. We hate cant in our
+      Community.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I cordially agree with the Community, Amelius. But, my good fellow, have
+      you really no friend to welcome you when you get to London?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius answered the question mysteriously. &ldquo;Wait a little!&rdquo; he said&mdash;and
+      took a letter from the breast-pocket of his coat. Mr. Hethcote, watching
+      him, observed that he looked at the address with unfeigned pride and
+      pleasure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One of our brethren at the Community has given me this,&rdquo; he announced.
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a letter of introduction, sir, to a remarkable man&mdash;a man who
+      is an example to all the rest of us. He has risen, by dint of integrity
+      and perseverance, from the position of a poor porter in a shop to be one
+      of the most respected mercantile characters in the City of London.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With this explanation, Amelius handed his letter to Mr. Hethcote. It was
+      addressed as follows:&mdash;
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+         To John Farnaby, Esquire,
+         Messrs. Ronald &amp; Farnaby,
+         Stationers,
+         Aldersgate Street, London.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 2
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Hethcote looked at the address on the letter with an expression of
+      surprise, which did not escape the notice of Amelius. &ldquo;Do you know Mr.
+      Farnaby?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have some acquaintance with him,&rdquo; was the answer, given with a certain
+      appearance of constraint.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius went on eagerly with his questions. &ldquo;What sort of man is he? Do
+      you think he will be prejudiced against me, because I have been brought up
+      in Tadmor?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must be a little better acquainted, Amelius, with you and Tadmor before
+      I can answer your question. Suppose you tell me how you became one of the
+      Socialists, to begin with?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was only a little boy, Mr. Hethcote, at that time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very good. Even little boys have memories. Is there any objection to your
+      telling me what you can remember?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius answered rather sadly, with his eyes bent on the deck. &ldquo;I remember
+      something happening which threw a gloom over us at home in England. I
+      heard that my mother was concerned in it. When I grew older, I never
+      presumed to ask my father what it was; and he never offered to tell me. I
+      only know this: that he forgave her some wrong she had done him, and let
+      her go on living at home&mdash;and that relations and friends all blamed
+      him, and fell away from him, from that time. Not long afterwards, while I
+      was at school, my mother died. I was sent for, to follow her funeral with
+      my father. When we got back, and were alone together, he took me on his
+      knee and kissed me. &lsquo;Which will you do, Amelius,&rsquo; he said; &lsquo;stay in
+      England with your uncle and aunt? or come with me all the way to America,
+      and never go back to England again? Take time to think of it.&rsquo; I wanted no
+      time to think of it; I said, &lsquo;Go with you, papa.&rsquo; He frightened me by
+      bursting out crying; it was the first time I had ever seen him in tears. I
+      can understand it now. He had been cut to the heart, and had borne it like
+      a martyr; and his boy was his one friend left. Well, by the end of the
+      week we were on board the ship; and there we met a benevolent gentleman,
+      with a long gray beard, who bade my father welcome, and presented me with
+      a cake. In my ignorance, I thought he was the captain. Nothing of the
+      sort. He was the first Socialist I had ever seen; and it was he who had
+      persuaded my father to leave England.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Hethcote&rsquo;s opinions of Socialists began to show themselves (a little
+      sourly) in Mr. Hethcote&rsquo;s smile. &ldquo;And how did you get on with this
+      benevolent gentleman?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;After converting your father, did he
+      convert you&mdash;with the cake?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius smiled. &ldquo;Do him justice, sir; he didn&rsquo;t trust to the cake. He
+      waited till we were in sight of the American land&mdash;and then he
+      preached me a little sermon, on our arrival, entirely for my own use.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A sermon?&rdquo; Mr. Hethcote repeated. &ldquo;Very little religion in it, I
+      suspect.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very little indeed, sir,&rdquo; Amelius answered. &ldquo;Only as much religion as
+      there is in the New Testament. I was not quite old enough to understand
+      him easily&mdash;so he wrote down his discourse on the fly-leaf of a
+      story-book I had with me, and gave it to me to read when I was tired of
+      the stories. Stories were scarce with me in those days; and, when I had
+      exhausted my little stock, rather than read nothing I read my sermon&mdash;read
+      it so often that I think I can remember every word of it now. &lsquo;My dear
+      little boy, the Christian religion, as Christ taught it, has long ceased
+      to be the religion of the Christian world. A selfish and cruel Pretence is
+      set up in its place. Your own father is one example of the truth of this
+      saying of mine. He has fulfilled the first and foremost duty of a true
+      Christian&mdash;the duty of forgiving an injury. For this, he stands
+      disgraced in the estimation of all his friends: they have renounced and
+      abandoned him. He forgives them, and seeks peace and good company in the
+      New World, among Christians like himself. You will not repent leaving home
+      with him; you will be one of a loving family, and, when you are old
+      enough, you will be free to decide for yourself what your future life
+      shall be.&rsquo; That was all I knew about the Socialists, when we reached
+      Tadmor after our long journey.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Hethcote&rsquo;s prejudices made their appearance again. &ldquo;A barren sort of
+      place,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;judging by the name.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Barren? What can you be thinking of? A prettier place I never saw, and
+      never expect to see again. A clear winding river, running into a little
+      blue lake. A broad hill-side, all laid out in flower-gardens, and shaded
+      by splendid trees. On the top of the hill, the buildings of the Community,
+      some of brick and some of wood, so covered with creepers and so encircled
+      with verandahs that I can&rsquo;t tell you to this day what style of
+      architecture they were built in. More trees behind the houses&mdash;and,
+      on the other side of the hill, cornfields, nothing but cornfields rolling
+      away and away in great yellow plains, till they reached the golden sky and
+      the setting sun, and were seen no more. That was our first view of Tadmor,
+      when the stage-coach dropped us at the town.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Hethcote still held out. &ldquo;And what about the people who live in this
+      earthly Paradise?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;Male and female saints&mdash;eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh dear no, sir! The very opposite of saints. They eat and drink like
+      their neighbours. They never think of wearing dirty horsehair when they
+      can get clean linen. And when they are tempted to misconduct themselves,
+      they find a better way out of it than knotting a cord and thrashing their
+      own backs. Saints! They all ran out together to bid us welcome like a lot
+      of school-children; the first thing they did was to kiss us, and the next
+      thing was to give us a mug of wine of their own making. Saints! Oh, Mr.
+      Hethcote, what will you accuse us of being next? I declare your suspicions
+      of the poor Socialists keep cropping up again as fast as I cut them down.
+      May I make a guess, sir, without offending you? From one or two things I
+      have noticed, I strongly suspect you&rsquo;re a British clergyman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Hethcote was conquered at last: he burst out laughing. &ldquo;You have
+      discovered me,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;travelling in a coloured cravat and a shooting
+      jacket! I confess I should like to know how.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s easily explained, sir. Visitors of all sorts are welcome at Tadmor.
+      We have a large experience of them in the travelling season. They all come
+      with their own private suspicion of us lurking about the corners of their
+      eyes. They see everything we have to show them, and eat and drink at our
+      table, and join in our amusements, and get as pleasant and friendly with
+      us as can be. The time comes to say goodbye&mdash;and then we find them
+      out. If a guest who has been laughing and enjoying himself all day,
+      suddenly becomes serious when he takes his leave, and shows that little
+      lurking devil of suspicion again about the corners of his eyes&mdash;it&rsquo;s
+      ten chances to one that he&rsquo;s a clergyman. No offence, Mr. Hethcote! I
+      acknowledge with pleasure that the corners of <i>your</i> eyes are clear
+      again. You&rsquo;re not a very clerical clergyman, sir, after all&mdash;I don&rsquo;t
+      despair of converting you, yet!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go on with your story, Amelius. You&rsquo;re the queerest fellow I have met
+      with, for many a long day past.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;m a little doubtful about going on with my story, sir. I have told you
+      how I got to Tadmor, and what it looks like, and what sort of people live
+      in the place. If I am to get on beyond that, I must jump to the time when
+      I was old enough to learn the Rules of the Community.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well&mdash;and what then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Mr. Hethcote, some of the Rules might offend you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Try!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right, sir! don&rsquo;t blame me; <i>I&rsquo;m</i> not ashamed of the Rules. And
+      now, if I am to speak, I must speak seriously on a serious subject; I must
+      begin with our religious principles. We find our Christianity in the
+      spirit of the New Testament&mdash;not in the letter. We have three good
+      reasons for objecting to pin our faith on the words alone, in that book.
+      First, because we are not sure that the English translation is always to
+      be depended on as accurate and honest. Secondly, because we know that
+      (since the invention of printing) there is not a copy of the book in
+      existence which is free from errors of the press, and that (before the
+      invention of printing) those errors, in manuscript copies, must as a
+      matter of course have been far more serious and far more numerous.
+      Thirdly, because there is plain internal evidence (to say nothing of
+      discoveries actually made in the present day) of interpolations and
+      corruptions, introduced into the manuscript copies as they succeeded each
+      other in ancient times. These drawbacks are of no importance, however, in
+      our estimation. We find, in the spirit of the book, the most simple and
+      most perfect system of religion and morality that humanity has ever
+      received&mdash;and with that we are content. To reverence God; and to love
+      our neighbour as ourselves: if we had only those two commandments to guide
+      us, we should have enough. The whole collection of Doctrines (as they are
+      called) we reject at once, without even stopping to discuss them. We apply
+      to them the test suggested by Christ himself: by their fruits ye shall
+      know them. The fruits of Doctrines, in the past (to quote three instances
+      only), have been the Spanish Inquisition, the Massacre of St. Bartholomew,
+      and the Thirty Years&rsquo; War&mdash;and the fruits, in the present, are
+      dissension, bigotry, and opposition to useful reforms. Away with
+      Doctrines! In the interests of Christianity, away with them! We are to
+      love our enemies; we are to forgive injuries; we are to help the needy; we
+      are to be pitiful and courteous, slow to judge others, and ashamed to
+      exalt ourselves. That teaching doesn&rsquo;t lead to tortures, massacres, and
+      wars; to envy, hatred, and malice&mdash;and for that reason it stands
+      revealed to us as the teaching that we can trust. There is our religion,
+      sir, as we find it in the Rules of the Community.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, Amelius. I notice, in passing, that the Community is in one
+      respect like the Pope&mdash;the Community is infallible. We won&rsquo;t dwell on
+      that. You have stated your principles. As to the application of them next?
+      Nobody has a right to be rich among you, of course?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Put it the other way, Mr. Hethcote. All men have a right to be rich&mdash;provided
+      they don&rsquo;t make other people poor, as a part of the process. We don&rsquo;t
+      trouble ourselves much about money; that&rsquo;s the truth. We are farmers,
+      carpenters, weavers, and printers; and what we earn (ask our neighbours if
+      we don&rsquo;t earn it honestly) goes into the common fund. A man who comes to
+      us with money puts it into the fund, and so makes things easy for the next
+      man who comes with empty pockets. While they are with us, they all live in
+      the same comfort, and have their equal share in the same profits&mdash;deducting
+      the sum in reverse for sudden calls and bad times. If they leave us, the
+      man who has brought money with him has his undisputed right to take it
+      away again; and the man who has brought none bids us good-bye, all the
+      richer for his equal share in the profits which he has personally earned.
+      The only fuss at our place about money that I can remember was the fuss
+      about my five hundred a year. I wanted to hand it over to the fund. It was
+      my own, mind&mdash;inherited from my mother&rsquo;s property, on my coming of
+      age. The Elders wouldn&rsquo;t hear of it: the Council wouldn&rsquo;t hear of it: the
+      general vote of the Community wouldn&rsquo;t hear of it. &lsquo;We agreed with his
+      father that he should decide for himself, when he grew to manhood&rsquo;&mdash;that
+      was how they put it. &lsquo;Let him go back to the Old World; and let him be
+      free to choose, by the test of his own experience, what his future life
+      shall be.&rsquo; How do you think it will end, Mr. Hethcote? Shall I return to
+      the Community? Or shall I stop in London?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Hethcote answered, without a moment&rsquo;s hesitation. &ldquo;You will stop in
+      London.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll bet you two to one, Sir, he goes back to the Community.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In those words, a third voice (speaking in a strong New England accent)
+      insinuated itself into the conversation from behind. Amelius and Mr.
+      Hethcote, looking round, discovered a long, lean, grave stranger&mdash;with
+      his face overshadowed by a huge felt hat. &ldquo;Have you been listening to our
+      conversation?&rdquo; Mr. Hethcote asked haughtily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have been listening,&rdquo; answered the grave stranger, &ldquo;with considerable
+      interest. This young man, I find, opens a new chapter to me in the book of
+      humanity. Do you accept my bet, Sir? My name is Rufus Dingwell; and my
+      home is at Coolspring, Mass. You do <i>not</i> bet? I express my regret,
+      and have the pleasure of taking a seat alongside of you. What is your
+      name, Sir? Hethcote? We have one of that name at Coolspring. He is much
+      respected. Mr. Claude A. Goldenheart, you are no stranger to me&mdash;no,
+      Sir. I procured your name from the steward, when the little difficulty
+      occurred just now about the bird. Your name considerably surprised me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why?&rdquo; Amelius asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, sir&mdash;not to say that your surname (being Goldenheart) reminds
+      one unexpectedly of <i>The Pilgrim&rsquo;s Progress</i>&mdash;I happen to be
+      already acquainted with you. By reputation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius looked puzzled. &ldquo;By reputation?&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;What does that mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It means, sir, that you occupy a prominent position in a recent number of
+      our popular journal, entitled <i>The Coolspring Democrat.</i> The late
+      romantic incident which caused the withdrawal of Miss Mellicent from your
+      Community has produced a species of social commotion at Coolspring. Among
+      our ladies, the tone of sentiment, Sir, is universally favourable to you.
+      When I left, I do assure you, you were a popular character among us. The
+      name of Claude A. Goldenheart was, so to speak, in everybody&rsquo;s mouth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius listened to this, with the colour suddenly deepening on his face,
+      and with every appearance of heartfelt annoyance and regret. &ldquo;There is no
+      such thing as keeping a secret in America,&rdquo; he said, irritably. &ldquo;Some spy
+      must have got among us; none of <i>our</i> people would have exposed the
+      poor lady to public comment. How would you like it, Mr. Dingwell, if the
+      newspaper published the private sorrows of your wife or your daughter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus Dingwell answered with the straightforward sincerity of feeling
+      which is one of the indisputable virtues of his nation. &ldquo;I had not thought
+      of it in that light, sir,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You have been good enough to credit
+      me with a wife or a daughter. I do not possess either of those ladies; but
+      your argument hits me, notwithstanding&mdash;hits me hard, I tell you.&rdquo; He
+      looked at Mr. Hethcote, who sat silently and stiffly disapproving of all
+      this familiarity, and applied himself in perfect innocence and good faith
+      to making things pleasant in that quarter. &ldquo;You are a stranger, Sir,&rdquo; said
+      Rufus; &ldquo;and you will doubtless wish to peruse the article which is the
+      subject of conversation?&rdquo; He took a newspaper slip from his pocket-book,
+      and offered it to the astonished Englishman. &ldquo;I shall be glad to hear your
+      sentiments, sir, on the view propounded by our mutual friend, Claude A.
+      Goldenheart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Before Mr. Hethcote could reply, Amelius interposed in his own headlong
+      way. &ldquo;Give it to me! I want to read it first!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He snatched at the newspaper slip. Rufus checked him with grave composure.
+      &ldquo;I am of a cool temperament myself, sir; but that don&rsquo;t prevent me from
+      admiring heat in others. Short of boiling point&mdash;mind that!&rdquo; With
+      this hint, the wise New Englander permitted Amelius to take possession of
+      the printed slip.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Hethcote, finding an opportunity of saying a word at last, asserted
+      himself a little haughtily. &ldquo;I beg you will both of you understand that I
+      decline to read anything which relates to another person&rsquo;s private
+      affairs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Neither the one nor the other of his companions paid the slightest heed to
+      this announcement. Amelius was reading the newspaper extract, and placid
+      Rufus was watching him. In another moment, he crumpled up the slip, and
+      threw it indignantly on the deck. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s as full of lies as it can hold!&rdquo;
+       he burst out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s all over the United States, by this time,&rdquo; Rufus remarked. &ldquo;And I
+      don&rsquo;t doubt we shall find the English papers have copied it, when we get
+      to Liverpool. If you will take my advice, sir, you will cultivate a
+      sagacious insensibility to the comments of the press.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you think I care for myself?&rdquo; Amelius asked indignantly. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s the
+      poor woman I am thinking of. What can I do to clear her character?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, sir,&rdquo; suggested Rufus, &ldquo;in your place, I should have a notification
+      circulated through the ship, announcing a lecture on the subject (weather
+      permitting) in the course of the afternoon. That&rsquo;s the way we should do it
+      at Coolspring.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius listened without conviction. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s certainly useless to make a
+      secret of the matter now,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;but I don&rsquo;t see my way to making it
+      more public still.&rdquo; He paused, and looked at Mr. Hethcote. &ldquo;It so happens,
+      sir,&rdquo; he resumed, &ldquo;that this unfortunate affair is an example of some of
+      the Rules of our Community, which I had not had time to speak of, when Mr.
+      Dingwell here joined us. It will be a relief to me to contradict these
+      abominable falsehoods to somebody; and I should like (if you don&rsquo;t mind)
+      to hear what you think of my conduct, from your own point of view. It
+      might prepare me,&rdquo; he added, smiling rather uneasily, &ldquo;for what I may find
+      in the English newspapers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With these words of introduction he told his sad story&mdash;jocosely
+      described in the newspaper heading as &ldquo;Miss Mellicent and Goldenheart
+      among the Socialists at Tadmor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 3
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nearly six months since,&rdquo; said Amelius, &ldquo;we had notice by letter of the
+      arrival of an unmarried English lady, who wished to become a member of our
+      Community. You will understand my motive in keeping her family name a
+      secret: even the newspaper has grace enough only to mention her by her
+      Christian name. I don&rsquo;t want to cheat you out of your interest; so I will
+      own at once that Miss Mellicent was not beautiful, and not young. When she
+      came to us, she was thirty-eight years old, and time and trial had set
+      their marks on her face plainly enough for anybody to see. Notwithstanding
+      this, we all thought her an interesting woman. It might have been the
+      sweetness of her voice; or perhaps it was something in her expression that
+      took our fancy. There! I can&rsquo;t explain it; I can only say there were young
+      women and pretty women at Tadmor who failed to win us as Miss Mellicent
+      did. Contradictory enough, isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Hethcote said he understood the contradiction. Rufus put an
+      appropriate question: &ldquo;Do you possess a photograph of this lady, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Amelius; &ldquo;I wish I did. Well, we received her, on her arrival,
+      in the Common Room&mdash;called so because we all assemble there every
+      evening, when the work of the day is done. Sometimes we have the reading
+      of a poem or a novel; sometimes debates on the social and political
+      questions of the time in England and America; sometimes music, or dancing,
+      or cards, or billiards, to amuse us. When a new member arrives, we have
+      the ceremonies of introduction. I was close by the Elder Brother (that&rsquo;s
+      the name we give to the chief of the Community) when two of the women led
+      Miss Mellicent in. He&rsquo;s a hearty old fellow, who lived the first part of
+      his life on his own clearing in one of the Western forests. To this day,
+      he can&rsquo;t talk long, without showing, in one way or another, that his old
+      familiarity with the trees still keeps its place in his memory. He looked
+      hard at Miss Mellicent, under his shaggy old white eyebrows; and I heard
+      him whisper to himself, &lsquo;Ah, dear me! Another of The Fallen Leaves!&rsquo; I
+      knew what he meant. The people who have drawn blanks in the lottery of
+      life&mdash;the people who have toiled hard after happiness, and have
+      gathered nothing but disappointment and sorrow; the friendless and the
+      lonely, the wounded and the lost&mdash;these are the people whom our good
+      Elder Brother calls The Fallen Leaves. I like the saying myself; it&rsquo;s a
+      tender way of speaking of our poor fellow-creatures who are down in the
+      world.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He paused for a moment, looking out thoughtfully over the vast void of sea
+      and sky. A passing shadow of sadness clouded his bright young face. The
+      two elder men looked at him in silence, feeling (in widely different ways)
+      the same compassionate interest. What was the life that lay before him?
+      And&mdash;God help him!&mdash;what would he do with it?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where did I leave off?&rdquo; he asked, rousing himself suddenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You left Miss Mellicent, sir, in the Common Room&mdash;the venerable
+      citizen with the white eyebrows being suitably engaged in moralizing on
+      her.&rdquo; In those terms the ever-ready Rufus set the story going again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quite right,&rdquo; Amelius resumed. &ldquo;There she was, poor thing, a little thin
+      timid creature, in a white dress, with a black scarf over her shoulders,
+      trembling and wondering in a room full of strangers. The Elder Brother
+      took her by the hand, and kissed her on the forehead, and bade her
+      heartily welcome in the name of the Community. Then the women followed his
+      example, and the men all shook hands with her. And then our chief put the
+      three questions, which he is bound to address to all new arrivals when
+      they join us: &lsquo;Do you come here of your own free will? Do you bring with
+      you a written recommendation from one of our brethren, which satisfies us
+      that we do no wrong to ourselves or to others in receiving you? Do you
+      understand that you are not bound to us by vows, and that you are free to
+      leave us again if the life here is not agreeable to you?&rsquo; Matters being
+      settled so far, the reading of the Rules, and the Penalties imposed for
+      breaking them, came next. Some of the Rules you know already; others of
+      smaller importance I needn&rsquo;t trouble you with. As for the Penalties, if
+      you incur the lighter ones, you are subject to public rebuke, or to
+      isolation for a time from the social life of the Community. If you incur
+      the heavier ones, you are either sent out into the world again for a given
+      period, to return or not as you please; or you are struck off the list of
+      members, and expelled for good and all. Suppose these preliminaries agreed
+      to by Miss Mellicent with silent submission, and let us go on to the close
+      of the ceremony&mdash;the reading of the Rules which settle the questions
+      of Love and Marriage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aha!&rdquo; said Mr. Hethcote, &ldquo;we are coming to the difficulties of the
+      Community at last!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are we also coming to Miss Mellicent, sir?&rdquo; Rufus inquired. &ldquo;As a citizen
+      of a free country in which I can love in one State, marry in another, and
+      be divorced in a third, I am not interested in your Rules&mdash;I am
+      interested in your Lady.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The two are inseparable in this case,&rdquo; Amelius answered gravely. &ldquo;If I am
+      to speak of Miss Mellicent, I must speak of the Rules; you will soon see
+      why. Our Community becomes a despotism, gentlemen, in dealing with love
+      and marriage. For example, it positively prohibits any member afflicted
+      with hereditary disease from marrying at all; and it reserves to itself,
+      in the case of every proposed marriage among us, the right of permitting
+      or forbidding it, in council. We can&rsquo;t even fall in love with each other,
+      without being bound, under penalties, to report it to the Elder Brother;
+      who, in his turn, communicates it to the monthly council; who, in their
+      turn, decide whether the courtship may go on or not. That&rsquo;s not the worst
+      of it, even yet! In some cases&mdash;where we haven&rsquo;t the slightest
+      intention of falling in love with each other&mdash;the governing body
+      takes the initiative. &lsquo;You two will do well to marry; we see it, if you
+      don&rsquo;t. Just think of it, will you?&rsquo; You may laugh; some of our happiest
+      marriages have been made in that way. Our governors in council act on an
+      established principle: here it is in a nutshell. The results of experience
+      in the matter of marriage, all over the world, show that a really wise
+      choice of a husband or a wife is an exception to the rule; and that
+      husbands and wives in general would be happier together if their marriages
+      were managed for them by competent advisers on either side. Laws laid down
+      on such lines as these, and others equally strict, which I have not
+      mentioned yet, were not put in force, Mr. Hethcote, as you suppose,
+      without serious difficulties&mdash;difficulties which threatened the very
+      existence of the Community. But that was before my time. When I grew up, I
+      found the husbands and wives about me content to acknowledge that the
+      Rules fulfilled the purpose with which they had been made&mdash;the
+      greatest happiness of the greatest number. It all looks very absurd, I
+      dare say, from your point of view. But these queer regulations of ours
+      answer the Christian test&mdash;by their fruits ye shall know them. Our
+      married people don&rsquo;t live on separate sides of the house; our children are
+      all healthy; wife-beating is unknown among us; and the practice in our
+      divorce court wouldn&rsquo;t keep the most moderate lawyer on bread and cheese.
+      Can you say as much for the success of the marriage laws in Europe? I
+      leave you, gentlemen, to form your own opinions.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Hethcote declined to express an opinion. Rufus declined to resign his
+      interest in the lady. &ldquo;And what did Miss Mellicent say to it?&rdquo; he
+      inquired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She said something that startled us all,&rdquo; Amelius replied. &ldquo;When the
+      Elder Brother began to read the first words relating to love and marriage
+      in the Book of Rules, she turned deadly pale; and rose up in her place
+      with a sudden burst of courage or desperation&mdash;I don&rsquo;t know which.
+      &lsquo;Must you read that to me?&rsquo; she asked. &lsquo;I have nothing to do with love or
+      marriage.&rsquo; The Elder Brother laid aside his Book of Rules. &lsquo;If you are
+      afflicted with an hereditary malady,&rsquo; he said, &lsquo;the doctor from the town
+      will examine you, and report to us.&rsquo; She answered, &lsquo;I have no hereditary
+      malady.&rsquo; The Elder Brother took up his book again. &lsquo;In due course of time,
+      my dear, the Council will decide for you whether you are to love and marry
+      or not.&rsquo; And he read the Rules. She sat down again, and hid her face in
+      her hands, and never moved or spoke until he had done. The regular
+      questions followed. Had she anything to say, in the way of objection?
+      Nothing! In that case, would she sign the Rules? Yes! When the time came
+      for supper, she excused herself, just like a child. &lsquo;I feel very tired;
+      may I go to bed?&rsquo; The unmarried women in the same dormitory with her
+      anticipated some romantic confession when she grew used to her new
+      friends. They proved to be wrong. &lsquo;My life has been one long
+      disappointment,&rsquo; was all she said. &lsquo;You will do me a kindness if you will
+      take me as I am, and not ask me to talk about myself.&rsquo; There was nothing
+      sulky or ungracious in the expression of her wish to keep her own secret.
+      A kinder and sweeter woman&mdash;never thinking of herself, always
+      considerate of others&mdash;never lived. An accidental discovery made me
+      her chief friend, among the men: it turned out that her childhood had been
+      passed, where my childhood had been passed, at Shedfield Heath, in
+      Buckinghamshire. She was never weary of consulting my boyish
+      recollections, and comparing them with her own. &lsquo;I love the place,&rsquo; she
+      used to say; &lsquo;the only happy time of my life was the time passed there.&rsquo; 
+      On my sacred word of honour, this was the sort of talk that passed between
+      us, for week after week. What other talk could pass between a man whose
+      one and twentieth birthday was then near at hand, and a woman who was
+      close on forty? What could I do, when the poor, broken, disappointed
+      creature met me on the hill or by the river, and said, &lsquo;You are going out
+      for a walk; may I come with you?&rsquo; I never attempted to intrude myself into
+      her confidence; I never even asked her why she had joined the Community.
+      You see what is coming, don&rsquo;t you? <i>I</i> never saw it. I didn&rsquo;t know
+      what it meant, when some of the younger women, meeting us together, looked
+      at me (not at her), and smiled maliciously. My stupid eyes were opened at
+      last by the woman who slept in the next bed to her in the dormitory&mdash;a
+      woman old enough to be my mother, who took care of me when I was a child
+      at Tadmor. She stopped me one morning, on my way to fish in the river.
+      &lsquo;Amelius,&rsquo; she said, &lsquo;don&rsquo;t go to the fishing-house; Mellicent is waiting
+      for you.&rsquo; I stared at her in astonishment. She held up her finger at me:
+      &lsquo;Take care, you foolish boy! You are drifting into a false position as
+      fast as you can. Have you no suspicion of what is going on?&rsquo; I looked all
+      round me, in search of what was going on. Nothing out of the common was to
+      be seen anywhere. &lsquo;What can you possibly mean?&rsquo; I asked. &lsquo;You will only
+      laugh at me, if I tell you,&rsquo; she said. I promised not to laugh. She too
+      looked all round her, as if she was afraid of somebody being near enough
+      to hear us; and then she let out the secret. &lsquo;Amelius, ask for a holiday&mdash;and
+      leave us for a while. Mellicent is in love with you.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 4
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Amelius looked at his companions, in some doubt whether they would
+      preserve their gravity at this critical point in his story. They both
+      showed him that his apprehensions were well founded. He was a little hurt,
+      and he instantly revealed it. &ldquo;I own to my shame that I burst out laughing
+      myself,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;But you two gentlemen are older and wiser than I am. I
+      didn&rsquo;t expect to find you just as ready to laugh at poor Miss Mellicent as
+      I was.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Hethcote declined to be reminded of his duties as a middle-aged
+      gentleman in this backhanded manner. &ldquo;Gently, Amelius! You can&rsquo;t expect to
+      persuade us that a laughable thing is not a thing to be laughed at. A
+      woman close on forty who falls in love with a young fellow of twenty-one&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is a laughable circumstance,&rdquo; Rufus interposed. &ldquo;Whereas a man of forty
+      who fancies a young woman of twenty-one is all in the order of Nature. The
+      men have settled it so. But why the women are to give up so much sooner
+      than the men is a question, sir, on which I have long wished to hear the
+      sentiments of the women themselves.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Hethcote dismissed the sentiments of the women with a wave of his
+      hand. &ldquo;Let us hear the rest of it, Amelius. Of course you went on to the
+      fishing-house? And of course you found Miss Mellicent there?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She came to the door to meet me, much as usual,&rdquo; Amelius resumed, &ldquo;and
+      suddenly checked herself in the act of shaking hands with me. I can only
+      suppose she saw something in my face that startled her. How it happened, I
+      can&rsquo;t say; but I felt my good spirits forsake me the moment I found myself
+      in her presence. I doubt if she had ever seen me so serious before. &lsquo;Have
+      I offended you?&rsquo; she asked. Of course, I denied it; but I failed to
+      satisfy her. She began to tremble. &lsquo;Has somebody said something against
+      me? Are you weary of my company?&rsquo; Those were the next questions. It was
+      useless to say No. Some perverse distrust of me, or some despair of
+      herself, overpowered her on a sudden. She sank down on the floor of the
+      fishing-house, and began to cry&mdash;not a good hearty burst of tears; a
+      silent, miserable, resigned sort of crying, as if she had lost all claim
+      to be pitied, and all right to feel wounded or hurt. I was so distressed,
+      that I thought of nothing but consoling her. I meant well, and I acted
+      like a fool. A sensible man would have lifted her up, I suppose, and left
+      her to herself. I lifted her up, and put my arm round her waist. She
+      looked at me as I did it. For just a moment, I declare she became twenty
+      years younger! She blushed as I have never seen a woman blush before or
+      since&mdash;the colour flowed all over her neck as well as her face.
+      Before I could say a word, she caught hold of my hand, and (of all the
+      confusing things in the world!) kissed it. &lsquo;No!&rsquo; she cried, &lsquo;don&rsquo;t despise
+      me! don&rsquo;t laugh at me! Wait, and hear what my life has been, and then you
+      will understand why a little kindness overpowers me.&rsquo; She looked round the
+      corner of the fishing-house suspiciously. &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t want anybody else to
+      hear us,&rsquo; she said, &lsquo;all the pride isn&rsquo;t beaten out of me yet. Come to the
+      lake, and row me about in the boat.&rsquo; I took her out in the boat. Nobody
+      could hear us certainly; but she forgot, and I forgot, that anybody might
+      see us, and that appearances on the lake might lead to false conclusions
+      on shore.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Hethcote and Rufus exchanged significant looks. They had not forgotten
+      the Rules of the Community, when two of its members showed a preference
+      for each other&rsquo;s society.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius proceeded. &ldquo;Well, there we were on the lake. I paddled with the
+      oars, and she opened her whole heart to me. Her troubles had begun, in a
+      very common way, with her mother&rsquo;s death and her father&rsquo;s second marriage.
+      She had a brother and a sister&mdash;the sister married a German merchant,
+      settled in New York; the brother comfortably established as a sheep-farmer
+      in Australia. So, you see, she was alone at home, at the mercy of the
+      step-mother. I don&rsquo;t understand these cases myself, but people who do,
+      tell me that there are generally faults on both sides. To make matters
+      worse, they were a poor family; the one rich relative being a sister of
+      the first wife, who disapproved of the widower marrying again, and never
+      entered the house afterwards. Well, the step-mother had a sharp tongue,
+      and Mellicent was the first person to feel the sting of it. She was
+      reproached with being an encumbrance on her father, when she ought to be
+      doing something for herself. There was no need to repeat those harsh
+      words. The next day she answered an advertisement. Before the week was
+      over, she was earning her bread as a daily governess.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Here Rufus stopped the narrative, having an interesting question to put.
+      &ldquo;Might I inquire, sir, what her salary was?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thirty pounds a year,&rdquo; Amelius replied. &ldquo;She was out teaching from nine
+      o&rsquo;clock to two&mdash;and then went home again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There seems to be nothing to complain of in that, as salaries go,&rdquo; Mr.
+      Hethcote remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She made no complaint,&rdquo; Amelius rejoined. &ldquo;She was satisfied with her
+      salary; but she wasn&rsquo;t satisfied with her life. The meek little woman grew
+      downright angry when she spoke of it. &lsquo;I had no reason to complain of my
+      employers,&rsquo; she said. &lsquo;I was civilly treated and punctually paid; but I
+      never made friends of them. I tried to make friends of the children; and
+      sometimes I thought I had succeeded&mdash;but, oh dear, when they were
+      idle, and I was obliged to keep them to their lessons, I soon found how
+      little hold I had on the love that I wanted them to give me. We see
+      children in books who are perfect little angels; never envious or greedy
+      or sulky or deceitful; always the same sweet, pious, tender, grateful,
+      innocent creatures&mdash;and it has been my misfortune never to meet with
+      them, go where I might! It is a hard world, Amelius, the world that I have
+      lived in. I don&rsquo;t think there are such miserable lives anywhere as the
+      lives led by the poor middle classes in England. From year&rsquo;s end to year&rsquo;s
+      end, the one dreadful struggle to keep up appearances, and the
+      heart-breaking monotony of an existence without change. We lived in the
+      back street of a cheap suburb. I declare to you we had but one amusement
+      in the whole long weary year&mdash;the annual concert the clergyman got
+      up, in aid of his schools. The rest of the year it was all teaching for
+      the first half of the day, and needlework for the young family for the
+      other half. My father had religious scruples; he prohibited theatres, he
+      prohibited dancing and light reading; he even prohibited looking in at the
+      shop-windows, because we had no money to spare and they tempted us to buy.
+      He went to business in the morning, and came back at night, and fell
+      asleep after dinner, and woke up and read prayers&mdash;and next day to
+      business and back, and sleeping and waking and reading prayers&mdash;and
+      no break in it, week after week, month after month, except on Sunday,
+      which was always the same Sunday; the same church, the same service, the
+      same dinner, the same book of sermons in the evening. Even when we had a
+      fortnight once a year at the seaside, we always went to the same place and
+      lodged in the same cheap house. The few friends we had led just the same
+      lives, and were beaten down flat by just the same monotony. All the women
+      seemed to submit to it contentedly except my miserable self. I wanted so
+      little! Only a change now and then; only a little sympathy when I was
+      weary and sick at heart; only somebody whom I could love and serve, and be
+      rewarded with a smile and a kind word in return. Mothers shook their
+      heads, and daughters laughed at me. Have we time to be sentimental?
+      Haven&rsquo;t we enough to do, darning and mending, and turning our dresses, and
+      making the joint last as long as possible, and keeping the children clean,
+      and doing the washing at home&mdash;and tea and sugar rising, and my
+      husband grumbling every week when I have to ask him for the house-money.
+      Oh, no more of it! no more of it! People meant for better things all
+      ground down to the same sordid and selfish level&mdash;is that a pleasant
+      sight to contemplate? I shudder when I think of the last twenty years of
+      my life!&rsquo; That&rsquo;s what she complained of, Mr. Hethcote, in the solitary
+      middle of the lake, with nobody but me to hear her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In my country, sir,&rdquo; Rufus remarked, &ldquo;the Lecture Bureau would have
+      provided for her amusement, on economical terms. And I reckon, if a
+      married life would fix her, she might have tried it among Us by way of a
+      change.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s the saddest part of the story,&rdquo; said Amelius. &ldquo;There came a time,
+      only two years ago, when her prospects changed for the better. Her rich
+      aunt (her mother&rsquo;s sister) died; and&mdash;what do you think?&mdash;left
+      her a legacy of six thousand pounds. There was a gleam of sunshine in her
+      life! The poor teacher was an heiress in a small way, with her fortune at
+      her own disposal. They had something like a festival at home, for the
+      first time; presents to everybody, and kissings and congratulations, and
+      new dresses at last. And, more than that, another wonderful event happened
+      before long. A gentleman made his appearance in the family circle, with an
+      interesting object in view&mdash;a gentleman, who had called at the house
+      in which she happened to be employed as teacher at the time, and had seen
+      her occupied with her pupils. He had kept it to himself to be sure, but he
+      had secretly admired her from that moment&mdash;and now it had come out!
+      She had never had a lover before; mind that. And he was a remarkably
+      handsome man: dressed beautifully, and sang and played, and was so humble
+      and devoted with it all. Do you think it wonderful that she said Yes, when
+      he proposed to marry her? I don&rsquo;t think it wonderful at all. For the first
+      few weeks of the courtship, the sunshine was brighter than ever. Then the
+      clouds began to rise. Anonymous letters came, describing the handsome
+      gentleman (seen under his fair surface) as nothing less than a scoundrel.
+      She tore up the letters indignantly&mdash;she was too delicate even to
+      show them to him. Signed letters came next, addressed to her father by an
+      uncle and an aunt, both containing one and the same warning: &lsquo;If your
+      daughter insists on having him, tell her to take care of her money.&rsquo; A few
+      days later, a visitor arrived&mdash;a brother, who spoke out more plainly
+      still. As an honourable man, he could not hear of what was going on,
+      without making the painful confession that his brother was forbidden to
+      enter his house. That said, he washed his hands of all further
+      responsibility. You two know the world, you will guess how it ended.
+      Quarrels in the household; the poor middle-aged woman, living in her
+      fool&rsquo;s paradise, blindly true to her lover; convinced that he was foully
+      wronged; frantic when he declared that he would not connect himself with a
+      family which suspected him. Ah, I have no patience when I think of it, and
+      I almost wish I had never begun to tell the story! Do you know what he
+      did? She was free of course, at her age, to decide for herself; there was
+      no controlling her. The wedding day was fixed. Her father had declared he
+      would not sanction it; and her step-mother kept him to his word. She went
+      alone to the church, to meet her promised husband. He never appeared; he
+      deserted her, mercilessly deserted her&mdash;after she had sacrificed her
+      own relations to him&mdash;on her wedding-day. She was taken home
+      insensible, and had a brain fever. The doctors declined to answer for her
+      life. Her father thought it time to look to her banker&rsquo;s pass-book. Out of
+      her six thousand pounds she had privately given no less than four thousand
+      to the scoundrel who had deceived and forsaken her! Not a month afterwards
+      he married a young girl&mdash;with a fortune of course. We read of such
+      things in newspapers and books. But to have them brought home to one,
+      after living one&rsquo;s own life among honest people&mdash;I tell you it
+      stupefied me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He said no more. Below them in the cabin, voices were laughing and
+      talking, to a cheerful accompaniment of clattering knives and forks.
+      Around them spread the exultant glory of sea and sky. All that they heard,
+      all that they saw, was cruelty out of harmony with the miserable story
+      which had just reached its end. With one accord the three men rose and
+      paced the deck, feeling physically the same need of some movement to
+      lighten their spirits. With one accord they waited a little, before the
+      narrative was resumed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 5
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      Mr. Hethcote was the first to speak again.
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can understand the poor creature&rsquo;s motive in joining your Community,&rdquo;
+       he said. &ldquo;To a person of any sensibility her position, among such
+      relatives as you describe, must have been simply unendurable after what
+      had happened. How did she hear of Tadmor and the Socialists?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She had read one of our books,&rdquo; Amelius answered; &ldquo;and she had her
+      married sister at New York to go to. There were moments, after her
+      recovery (she confessed it to me frankly), when the thought of suicide was
+      in her mind. Her religious scruples saved her. She was kindly received by
+      her sister and her sister&rsquo;s husband. They proposed to keep her with them
+      to teach their children. No! the new life offered to her was too like the
+      old life&mdash;she was broken in body and mind; she had no courage to face
+      it. We have a resident agent in New York; and he arranged for her journey
+      to Tadmor. There is a gleam of brightness, at any rate, in this part of
+      her story. She blessed the day, poor soul, when she joined us. Never
+      before had she found herself among such kind-hearted, unselfish, simple
+      people. Never before&mdash;&rdquo; he abruptly checked himself, and looked a
+      little confused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Obliging Rufus finished the sentence for him. &ldquo;Never before had she known
+      a young man with such natural gifts of fascination as C.A.G. Don&rsquo;t you be
+      too modest, sir; it doesn&rsquo;t pay, I assure you, in the nineteenth century.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius was not as ready with his laugh as usual. &ldquo;I wish I could drop it
+      at the point we have reached now,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;But she has left Tadmor; and,
+      in justice to her (after the scandals in the newspaper), I must tell you
+      how she left it, and why. The mischief began when I was helping her out of
+      the boat. Two of our young women met us on the bank of the lake, and asked
+      me how I got on with my fishing. They didn&rsquo;t mean any harm&mdash;they were
+      only in their customary good spirits. Still, there was no mistaking their
+      looks and tones when they put the question. Miss Mellicent, in her
+      confusion, made matters worse. She coloured up, and snatched her hand out
+      of mine, and ran back to the house by herself. The girls, enjoying their
+      own foolish joke, congratulated me on my prospects. I must have been out
+      of sorts in some way&mdash;upset, perhaps, by what I had heard in the
+      boat. Anyhow, I lost my temper, and <i>I</i> made matters worse, next. I
+      said some angry words, and left them. The same evening I found a letter in
+      my room. &lsquo;For your sake, I must not be seen alone with you again. It is
+      hard to lose the comfort of your sympathy, but I must submit. Think of me
+      as kindly as I think of you. It has done me good to open my heart to you.&rsquo; 
+      Only those lines, signed by Mellicent&rsquo;s initials. I was rash enough to
+      keep the letter, instead of destroying it. All might have ended well,
+      nevertheless, if she had only held to her resolution. But, unluckily, my
+      twenty-first birthday was close at hand; and there was talk of keeping it
+      as a festival in the Community. I was up with sunrise when the day came;
+      having some farming work to look after, and wanting to get it over in good
+      time. My shortest way back to breakfast was through a wood. In the wood I
+      met her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alone?&rdquo; Mr. Hethcote asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus expressed his opinion of the wisdom of putting this question with
+      his customary plainness of language. &ldquo;When there&rsquo;s a rash thing to be done
+      by a man and a woman together, sir, philosophers have remarked that it&rsquo;s
+      always the woman who leads the way. Of course she was alone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She had a little present for me on my birthday,&rdquo; Amelius explained&mdash;&ldquo;a
+      purse of her own making. And she was afraid of the ridicule of the young
+      women, if she gave it to me openly. &lsquo;You have my heart&rsquo;s dearest wishes
+      for your happiness; think of me sometimes, Amelius, when you open your
+      purse.&rsquo; If you had been in my place, could you have told her to go away,
+      when she said that, and put her gift into your hand? Not if she had been
+      looking at you at the moment&mdash;I&rsquo;ll swear you couldn&rsquo;t have done it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The lean yellow face of Rufus Dingwell relaxed for the first time into a
+      broad grin. &ldquo;There are further particulars, sir, stated in the newspaper,&rdquo;
+       he said slily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Damn the newspaper!&rdquo; Amelius answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus bowed, serenely courteous, with the air of a man who accepted a
+      British oath as an unwilling compliment paid by the old country to the
+      American press. &ldquo;The newspaper report states, sir, that she kissed you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a lie!&rdquo; Amelius shouted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps it&rsquo;s an error of the press,&rdquo; Rufus persisted. &ldquo;Perhaps, <i>you</i>
+      kissed <i>her?&rdquo;</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never mind what I did,&rdquo; said Amelius savagely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Hethcote felt it necessary to interfere. He addressed Rufus in his
+      most magnificent manner. &ldquo;In England, Mr. Dingwell, a gentleman is not in
+      the habit of disclosing these&mdash;er&mdash;these&mdash;er, er&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;These kissings in a wood?&rdquo; suggested Rufus. &ldquo;In my country, sir, we do
+      not regard kissing, in or out of a wood, in the light of a shameful
+      proceeding. Quite the contrary, I do assure you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius recovered his temper. The discussion was becoming too ridiculous
+      to be endured by the unfortunate person who was the object of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t let us make mountains out of molehills,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I did kiss her&mdash;there!
+      A woman pressing the prettiest little purse you ever saw into your hand,
+      and wishing you many happy returns of the day with the tears in her eyes;
+      I should like to know what else was to be done but to kiss her. Ah, yes,
+      smooth out your newspaper report, and have another look at it! She <i>did</i>
+      rest her head on my shoulder, poor soul, and she <i>did</i> say, &lsquo;Oh,
+      Amelius, I thought my heart was turned to stone; feel how you have made it
+      beat!&rsquo; When I remembered what she had told me in the boat, I declare to
+      God I almost burst out crying myself&mdash;it was so innocent and so
+      pitiful.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus held out his hand with true American cordiality. &ldquo;I do assure you,
+      sir, I meant no harm,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;The right grit is in you, and no mistake&mdash;and
+      there goes the newspaper!&rdquo; He rolled up the slip, and flung it overboard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Hethcote nodded his entire approval of this proceeding. Amelius went
+      on with his story.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;m near the end now,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;If I had known it would have taken so
+      long to tell&mdash;never mind! We got out of the wood at last, Mr. Rufus;
+      and left it without a suspicion that we had been watched. I was prudent
+      enough (when it was too late, you will say) to suggest to her that we had
+      better be careful for the future. Instead of taking it seriously, she
+      laughed. &lsquo;Have you altered your mind, since you wrote to me?&rsquo; I asked. &lsquo;To
+      be sure I have,&rsquo; she said. &lsquo;When I wrote to you I forgot the difference
+      between your age and mine. Nothing that <i>we</i> do will be taken
+      seriously. I am afraid of their laughing at me, Amelius; but I am afraid
+      of nothing else.&rsquo; I did my best to undeceive her. I told her plainly that
+      people unequally matched in years&mdash;women older than men, as well as
+      men older than women&mdash;were not uncommonly married among us. The
+      council only looked to their being well suited in other ways, and declined
+      to trouble itself about the question of age. I don&rsquo;t think I produced much
+      effect; she seemed, for once in her life, poor thing, to be too happy to
+      look beyond the passing moment. Besides, there was the birthday festival
+      to keep her mind from dwelling on doubts and fears that were not agreeable
+      to her. And the next day there was another event to occupy our attention&mdash;the
+      arrival of the lawyer&rsquo;s letter from London, with the announcement of my
+      inheritance on coming of age. It was settled, as you know, that I was to
+      go out into the world, and to judge for myself; but the date of my
+      departure was not fixed. Two days later, the storm that had been gathering
+      for weeks past burst on us&mdash;we were cited to appear before the
+      council to answer for an infraction of the Rules. Everything that I have
+      confessed to you, and some things besides that I have kept to myself, lay
+      formally inscribed on a sheet of paper placed on the council table&mdash;and
+      pinned to the sheet of paper was Mellicent&rsquo;s letter to me, found in my
+      room. I took the whole blame on myself, and insisted on being confronted
+      with the unknown person who had informed against us. The council met this
+      by a question:&mdash;&lsquo;Is the information, in any particular, false?&rsquo; 
+      Neither of us could deny that it was, in every particular, true. Hearing
+      this, the council decided that there was no need, on our own showing, to
+      confront us with the informer. From that day to this, I have never known
+      who the spy was. Neither Mellicent nor I had an enemy in the Community.
+      The girls who had seen us on the lake, and some other members who had met
+      us together, only gave their evidence on compulsion&mdash;and even then
+      they prevaricated, they were so fond of us and so sorry for us. After
+      waiting a day, the governing body pronounced their judgment. Their duty
+      was prescribed to them by the Rules. We were sentenced to six months&rsquo; 
+      absence from the Community; to return or not as we pleased. A hard
+      sentence, gentlemen&mdash;whatever <i>we</i> may think of it&mdash;to
+      homeless and friendless people, to the Fallen Leaves that had drifted to
+      Tadmor. In my case it had been already arranged that I was to leave. After
+      what had happened, my departure was made compulsory in four-and-twenty
+      hours; and I was forbidden to return, until the date of my sentence had
+      expired. In Mellicent&rsquo;s case they were still more strict. They would not
+      trust her to travel by herself. A female member of the Community was
+      appointed to accompany her to the house of her married sister at New York:
+      she was ordered to be ready for the journey by sunrise the next morning.
+      We both understood, of course, that the object of this was to prevent our
+      travelling together. They might have saved themselves the trouble of
+      putting obstacles in our way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So far as You were concerned, I suppose?&rdquo; said Mr. Hethcote.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So far as She was concerned also,&rdquo; Amelius answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How did she take it, sir?&rdquo; Rufus inquired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With a composure that astonished us all,&rdquo; said Amelius. &ldquo;We had
+      anticipated tears and entreaties for mercy. She stood up perfectly calm,
+      far calmer than I was, with her head turned towards me, and her eyes
+      resting quietly on my face. If you can imagine a woman whose whole being
+      was absorbed in looking into the future; seeing what no mortal creature
+      about her saw; sustained by hopes that no mortal creature about her could
+      share&mdash;you may see her as I did, when she heard her sentence
+      pronounced. The members of the Community, accustomed to take leave of an
+      erring brother or sister with loving and merciful words, were all more or
+      less distressed as they bade her farewell. Most of the women were in tears
+      as they kissed her. They said the same kind words to her over and over
+      again. &lsquo;We are heartily sorry for you, dear; we shall all be glad to
+      welcome you back.&rsquo; They sang our customary hymn at parting&mdash;and broke
+      down before they got to the end. It was <i>she</i> who consoled <i>them!</i>
+      Not once, through all that melancholy ceremony, did she lose her strange
+      composure, her rapt mysterious look. I was the last to say farewell; and I
+      own I couldn&rsquo;t trust myself to speak. She held my hand in hers. For a
+      moment, her face lighted up softly with a radiant smile&mdash;then the
+      strange preoccupied expression flowed over her again, like shadow over a
+      light. Her eyes, still looking into mine, seemed to look beyond me. She
+      spoke low, in sad steady tones. &lsquo;Be comforted, Amelius; the end is not
+      yet.&rsquo; She put her hands on my head, and drew it down to her. &lsquo;You will
+      come back to me,&rsquo; she whispered&mdash;and kissed me on the forehead,
+      before them all. When I looked up again, she was gone. I have neither seen
+      her nor heard from her since. It&rsquo;s all told, gentlemen&mdash;and some of
+      it has distressed me in the telling. Let me go away for a minute by
+      myself, and look at the sea.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      BOOK THE SECOND. AMELIUS IN LONDON
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 1
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Oh, Rufus Dingwell, it is such a rainy day! And the London street which I
+      look out on from my hotel window presents such a dirty and such a
+      miserable view! Do you know, I hardly feel like the same Amelius who
+      promised to write to you when you left the steamer at Queenstown. My
+      spirits are sinking; I begin to feel old. Am I in the right state of mind
+      to tell you what are my first impressions of London? Perhaps I may alter
+      my opinion. At present (this is between ourselves), I don&rsquo;t like London or
+      London people&mdash;excepting two ladies, who, in very different ways,
+      have interested and charmed me.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Who are the ladies? I must tell you what I heard about them from Mr.
+      Hethcote, before I present them to you on my own responsibility.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After you left us, I found the last day of the voyage to Liverpool dull
+      enough. Mr. Hethcote did not seem to feel it in the same way: on the
+      contrary, he grew more familiar and confidential in his talk with me. He
+      has some of the English stiffness, you see, and your American pace was a
+      little too fast for him. On our last night on board, we had some more
+      conversation about the Farnabys. You were not interested enough in the
+      subject to attend to what he said about them while you were with us; but
+      if you are to be introduced to the ladies, you must be interested now. Let
+      me first inform you that Mr. and Mrs. Farnaby have no children; and let me
+      add that they have adopted the daughter and orphan child of Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s
+      sister. This sister, it seems, died many years ago, surviving her husband
+      for a few months only. To complete the story of the past, death has also
+      taken old Mr. Ronald, the founder of the stationer&rsquo;s business, and his
+      wife, Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s mother. Dry facts these&mdash;I don&rsquo;t deny it; but
+      there is something more interesting to follow. I have next to tell you how
+      Mr. Hethcote first became acquainted with Mrs. Farnaby. Now, Rufus, we are
+      coming to something romantic at last!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It is some time since Mr. Hethcote ceased to perform his clerical duties,
+      owing to a malady in the throat, which made it painful for him to take his
+      place in the reading-desk or the pulpit. His last curacy attached him to a
+      church at the West-end of London; and here, one Sunday evening, after he
+      had preached the sermon, a lady in trouble came to him in the vestry for
+      spiritual advice and consolation. She was a regular attendant at the
+      church, and something which he had said in that evening&rsquo;s sermon had
+      deeply affected her. Mr. Hethcote spoke with her afterwards on many
+      occasions at home. He felt a sincere interest in her, but he disliked her
+      husband; and, when he gave up his curacy, he ceased to pay visits to the
+      house. As to what Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s troubles were, I can tell you nothing.
+      Mr. Hethcote spoke very gravely and sadly when he told me that the subject
+      of his conversations with her must be kept a secret. &ldquo;I doubt whether you
+      and Mr. Farnaby will get on well together,&rdquo; he said to me; &ldquo;but I shall be
+      astonished if you are not favourably impressed by his wife and her niece.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This was all I knew when I presented my letter of introduction to Mr.
+      Farnaby at his place of business.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a grand stone building, with great plate-glass windows&mdash;all
+      renewed and improved, they told me, since old Mr. Ronald&rsquo;s time. My letter
+      and my card went into an office at the back, and I followed them after a
+      while. A lean, hard, middle-aged man, buttoned up tight in a black
+      frock-coat, received me, holding my written introduction open in his hand.
+      He had a ruddy complexion not commonly seen in Londoners, so far as my
+      experience goes. His iron-gray hair and whiskers (especially the whiskers)
+      were in wonderfully fine order&mdash;as carefully oiled and combed as if
+      he had just come out of a barber&rsquo;s shop. I had been in the morning to the
+      Zoological Gardens; his eyes, when he lifted them from the letter to me,
+      reminded me of the eyes of the eagles&mdash;glassy and cruel. I have a
+      fault that I can&rsquo;t cure myself of. I like people, or dislike them, at
+      first sight, without knowing, in either case, whether they deserve it or
+      not. In the one moment when our eyes met, I felt the devil in me. In plain
+      English, I hated Mr. Farnaby!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good morning, sir,&rdquo; he began, in a loud, harsh, rasping voice. &ldquo;The
+      letter you bring me takes me by surprise.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought the writer was an old friend of yours,&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An old friend of mine,&rdquo; Mr. Farnaby answered, &ldquo;whose errors I deplore.
+      When he joined your Community, I looked upon him as a lost man. I am
+      surprised at his writing to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It is quite likely I was wrong, knowing nothing of the usages of society
+      in England. I thought this reception of me downright rude. I had laid my
+      hat on a chair; I took it up in my hand again, and delivered a parting
+      shot at the brute with the oily whiskers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I had known what you now tell me,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;I should not have troubled
+      you by presenting that letter. Good morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This didn&rsquo;t in the least offend him. A curious smile broke out on his
+      face; it widened his eyes, and it twitched up his mouth at one corner. He
+      held out his hand to stop me. I waited, in case he felt bound to make an
+      apology. He did nothing of the sort&mdash;he only made a remark.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are young and hasty,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I may lament my friend&rsquo;s
+      extravagances, without failing on that account in what is due to an old
+      friendship. You are probably not aware that we have no sympathy in England
+      with Socialists.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      I hit him back again. &ldquo;In that case, sir, a little Socialism in England
+      would do you no harm. We consider it a part of our duty as Christians to
+      feel sympathy with all men who are honest in their convictions&mdash;no
+      matter how mistaken (in our opinion) the convictions may be.&rdquo; I rather
+      thought I had him there; and I took up my hat again, to get off with the
+      honours of victory while I had the chance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I am sincerely ashamed of myself, Rufus, in telling you all this. I ought
+      to have given him back &ldquo;the soft answer that turneth away wrath&rdquo;&mdash;my
+      conduct was a disgrace to my Community. What evil influence was at work in
+      me? Was it the air of London? or was it a possession of the devil?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He stopped me for the second time&mdash;not in the least disconcerted by
+      what I had said to him. His inbred conviction of his own superiority to a
+      young adventurer like me was really something magnificent to witness. He
+      did me justice&mdash;the Philistine-Pharisee did me justice! Will you
+      believe it? He made his remarks next on my good points, as if I had been a
+      young bull at a prize cattle show.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Excuse me for noticing it,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Your manners are perfectly
+      gentlemanlike, and you speak English without any accent. And yet you have
+      been brought up in America. What does it mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      I grew worse and worse&mdash;I got downright sulky now.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose it means,&rdquo; I answered, &ldquo;that some of us, in America, cultivate
+      ourselves as well as our land. We have our books and music, though you
+      seem to think we only have our axes and spades. Englishmen don&rsquo;t claim a
+      monopoly of good manners at Tadmor. We see no difference between an
+      American gentleman and an English gentleman. And as for speaking English
+      with an accent, the Americans accuse <i>us</i> of doing that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He smiled again. &ldquo;How very absurd!&rdquo; he said, with a superb compassion for
+      the benighted Americans. By this time, I suspect he began to feel that he
+      had had enough of me. He got rid of me with an invitation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall be glad to receive you at my private residence, and introduce you
+      to my wife and her niece&mdash;our adopted daughter. There is the address.
+      We have a few friends to dinner on Saturday next, at seven. Will you give
+      us the pleasure of your company?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      We are all aware that there is a distinction between civility and
+      cordiality; but I myself never knew how wide that distinction might be,
+      until Mr. Farnaby invited me to dinner. If I had not been curious (after
+      what Mr. Hethcote had told me) to see Mrs. Farnaby and her niece, I should
+      certainly have slipped out of the engagement. As it was, I promised to
+      dine with Oily-Whiskers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He put his hand into mine at parting. It felt as moistly cold as a dead
+      fish. After getting out again into the street, I turned into the first
+      tavern I passed, and ordered a drink. Shall I tell you what else I did? I
+      went into the lavatory, and washed Mr. Farnaby off my hand. (N.B.&mdash;If
+      I had behaved in this way at Tadmor, I should have been punished with the
+      lighter penalty&mdash;taking my meals by myself, and being forbidden to
+      enter the Common Room for eight and forty hours.) I feel I am getting
+      wickeder and wickeder in London&mdash;I have half a mind to join you in
+      Ireland. What does Tom Moore say of his countrymen&mdash;he ought to know,
+      I suppose? &ldquo;For though they love women and golden store: Sir Knight, they
+      love honour and virtue more!&rdquo; They must have been all Socialists in Tom
+      Moore&rsquo;s time. Just the place for me.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I have been obliged to wait a little. A dense fog has descended on us by
+      way of variety. With a stinking coal fire, with the gas lit and the
+      curtains drawn at half-past eleven in the forenoon, I feel that I am in my
+      own country again at last. Patience, my friend&mdash;patience! I am coming
+      to the ladies.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Entering Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s private residence on the appointed day, I became
+      acquainted with one more of the innumerable insincerities of modern
+      English life. When a man asks you to dine with him at seven o&rsquo;clock, in
+      other countries, he means what he says. In England, he means half-past
+      seven, and sometimes a quarter to eight. At seven o&rsquo;clock I was the only
+      person in Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s drawing-room. At ten minutes past seven, Mr.
+      Farnaby made his appearance. I had a good mind to take his place in the
+      middle of the hearth-rug, and say, &ldquo;Farnaby, I am glad to see you.&rdquo; But I
+      looked at his whiskers; and <i>they</i> said to me, as plainly as words
+      could speak, &ldquo;Better not!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In five minutes more, Mrs. Farnaby joined us.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I wish I was a practised author&mdash;or, no, I would rather, for the
+      moment, be a competent portrait-painter, and send you Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s
+      likeness enclosed. How I am to describe her in words, I really don&rsquo;t know.
+      My dear fellow, she almost frightened me. I never before saw such a woman;
+      I never expect to see such a woman again. There was nothing in her figure,
+      or in her way of moving, that produced this impression on me&mdash;she is
+      little and fat, and walks with a firm, heavy step, like the step of a man.
+      Her face is what I want to make you see as plainly as I saw it myself: it
+      was her face that startled me.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So far as I can pretend to judge, she must have been pretty, in a healthy
+      way, when she was young. I declare I hardly know whether she is not pretty
+      now. She certainly has no marks or wrinkles; her hair either has no gray
+      in it, or is too light to show the gray. She has preserved her fair
+      complexion; perhaps with art to assist it&mdash;I can&rsquo;t say. As for her
+      lips&mdash;I am not speaking disrespectfully, I am only describing them
+      truly, when I say that they invite kisses in spite of her. In two words,
+      though she has been married (as I know from what one of the guests told me
+      after dinner) for sixteen years, she would be still an irresistible little
+      woman, but for the one startling drawback of her eyes. Don&rsquo;t mistake me.
+      In themselves, they are large, well-opened blue eyes, and may at one time
+      have been the chief attraction in her face. But now there is an expression
+      of suffering in them&mdash;long, unsolaced suffering, as I believe&mdash;so
+      despairing and so dreadful, that she really made my heart ache when I
+      looked at her. I will swear to it, that woman lives in some secret hell of
+      her own making, and longs for the release of death; and is so inveterately
+      full of bodily life and strength, that she may carry her burden with her
+      to the utmost verge of life. I am digging the pen into the paper, I feel
+      this so strongly, and I am so wretchedly incompetent to express my
+      feeling. Can you imagine a diseased mind, imprisoned in a healthy body? I
+      don&rsquo;t care what doctors or books may say&mdash;it is that, and nothing
+      else. Nothing else will solve the mystery of the smooth face, the fleshy
+      figure, the firm step, the muscular grip of her hand when she gives it to
+      you&mdash;and the soul in torment that looks at you all the while out of
+      her eyes. It is useless to tell me that such a contradiction as this
+      cannot exist. I have seen the woman; and she does exist.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Oh yes! I can fancy you grinning over my letter&mdash;I can hear you
+      saying to yourself, &ldquo;Where did he pick up his experience, I wonder?&rdquo; I
+      have no experience&mdash;I only have something that serves me instead of
+      it, and I don&rsquo;t know what. The Elder Brother, at Tadmor, used to say it
+      was sympathy. But <i>he</i> is a sentimentalist.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Well, Mr. Farnaby presented me to his wife&mdash;and then walked away as
+      if he was sick of us both, and looked out of the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For some reason or other, Mrs. Farnaby seemed to be surprised, for the
+      moment, by my personal appearance. Her husband had, very likely, not told
+      her how young I was. She got over her momentary astonishment, and, signing
+      to me to sit by her on the sofa, said the necessary words of welcome&mdash;evidently
+      thinking something else all the time. The strange miserable eyes looked
+      over my shoulder, instead of looking at me.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Farnaby tells me you have been living in America.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The tone in which she spoke was curiously quiet and monotonous. I have
+      heard such tones, in the Far West, from lonely settlers without a
+      neighbouring soul to speak to. Has Mrs. Farnaby no neighbouring soul to
+      speak to, except at dinner parties?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are an Englishman, are you not?&rdquo; she went on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I said Yes, and cast about in my mind for something to say to her. She
+      saved me the trouble by making me the victim of a complete series of
+      questions. This, as I afterwards discovered, was <i>her</i> way of finding
+      conversation for strangers. Have you ever met with absent-minded people to
+      whom it is a relief to ask questions mechanically, without feeling the
+      slightest interest in the answers?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She began. &ldquo;Where did you live in America?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At Tadmor, in the State of Illinois.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What sort of place is Tadmor?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      I described the place as well as I could, under the circumstances.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What made you go to Tadmor?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was impossible to reply to this, without speaking of the Community.
+      Feeling that the subject was not in the least likely to interest her, I
+      spoke as briefly as I could. To my astonishment, I evidently began to
+      interest her from that moment. The series of questions went on&mdash;but
+      now she not only listened, she was eager for the answers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are there any women among you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nearly as many women as men.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Another change! Over the weary misery of her eyes there flashed a bright
+      look of interest which completely transformed them. Her articulation even
+      quickened when she put her next question.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are any of the women friendless creatures, who came to you from England?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, some of them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      I thought of Mellicent as I spoke. Was this new interest that I had so
+      innocently aroused, an interest in Mellicent? Her next question only added
+      to my perplexity. Her next question proved that my guess had completely
+      failed to hit the mark.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are there any <i>young</i> women among them?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Farnaby, standing with his back to us thus far, suddenly turned and
+      looked at her, when she inquired if there were &ldquo;young&rdquo; women among us.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh yes,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;Mere girls.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She pressed so near to me that her knees touched mine. &ldquo;How old?&rdquo; she
+      asked eagerly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Farnaby left the window, walked close up to the sofa, and deliberately
+      interrupted us.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nasty muggy weather, isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I suppose the climate of
+      America&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Farnaby deliberately interrupted her husband. &ldquo;How old?&rdquo; she
+      repeated, in a louder tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I was bound, of course, to answer the lady of the house. &ldquo;Some girls from
+      eighteen to twenty. And some younger.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How much younger?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, from sixteen to seventeen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She grew more and more excited; she positively laid her hand on my arm in
+      her eagerness to secure my attention all to herself. &ldquo;American girls or
+      English?&rdquo; she resumed, her fat, firm fingers closing on me with a
+      tremulous grasp.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shall you be in town in November?&rdquo; said Mr. Farnaby, purposely
+      interrupting us again. &ldquo;If you would like to see the Lord Mayor&rsquo;s Show&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Farnaby impatiently shook me by the arm. &ldquo;American girls or English?&rdquo;
+       she reiterated, more obstinately than ever.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Farnaby gave her one look. If he could have put her on the blazing
+      fire and have burnt her up in an instant by an effort of will, I believe
+      he would have made the effort. He saw that I was observing him, and turned
+      quickly from his wife to me. His ruddy face was pale with suppressed rage.
+      My early arrival had given Mrs. Farnaby an opportunity of speaking to me,
+      which he had not anticipated in inviting me to dinner. &ldquo;Come and see my
+      pictures,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His wife still held me fast. Whether he liked it or not, I had again no
+      choice but to answer her. &ldquo;Some American girls, and some English,&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her eyes opened wider and wider in unutterable expectation. She suddenly
+      advanced her face so close to mine, that I felt her hot breath on my
+      cheeks as the next words burst their way through her lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Born in England?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. Born at Tadmor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She dropped my arm. The light died out of her eyes in an instant. In some
+      inconceivable way, I had utterly destroyed some secret expectation that
+      she had fixed on me. She actually left me on the sofa, and took a chair on
+      the opposite side of the fireplace. Mr. Farnaby, turning paler and paler,
+      stepped up to her as she changed her place. I rose to look at the pictures
+      on the wall nearest to me. You remarked the extraordinary keenness of my
+      sense of hearing, while we were fellow passengers on the steamship. When
+      he stooped over her, and whispered in her ear, I heard him&mdash;though
+      nearly the whole breadth of the room was between us. &ldquo;You hell-cat!&rdquo;&mdash;that
+      was what Mr. Farnaby said to his wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The clock on the mantelpiece struck the half-hour after seven. In quick
+      succession, the guests at the dinner now entered the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I was so staggered by the extraordinary scene of married life which I had
+      just witnessed, that the guests produced only a very faint impression upon
+      me. My mind was absorbed in trying to find the true meaning of what I had
+      seen and heard. Was Mrs. Farnaby a little mad? I dismissed that idea as
+      soon as it occurred to me; nothing that I had observed in her justified
+      it. The truer conclusion appeared to be, that she was deeply interested in
+      some absent (and possibly lost) young creature; whose age, judging by
+      actions and tones which had sufficiently revealed that part of the secret
+      to me, could not be more than sixteen or seventeen years. How long had she
+      cherished the hope of seeing the girl, or hearing of her? It must have
+      been, anyhow, a hope very deeply rooted, for she had been perfectly
+      incapable of controlling herself when I had accidentally roused it. As for
+      her husband, there could be no doubt that the subject was not merely
+      distasteful to him, but so absolutely infuriating that he could not even
+      keep his temper, in the presence of a third person invited to his house.
+      Had he injured the girl in any way? Was he responsible for her
+      disappearance? Did his wife know it, or only suspect it? Who <i>was</i>
+      the girl? What was the secret of Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s extraordinary interest in
+      her&mdash;Mrs. Farnaby, whose marriage was childless; whose interest one
+      would have thought should be naturally concentrated on her adopted
+      daughter, her sister&rsquo;s orphan child? In conjectures such as these, I
+      completely lost myself. Let me hear what your ingenuity can make of the
+      puzzle; and let me return to Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s dinner, waiting on Mr.
+      Farnaby&rsquo;s table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The servant threw open the drawing-room door, and the most honoured guest
+      present led Mrs. Farnaby to the dining-room. I roused myself to some
+      observation of what was going on about me. No ladies had been invited; and
+      the men were all of a certain age. I looked in vain for the charming
+      niece. Was she not well enough to appear at the dinner-party? I ventured
+      on putting the question to Mr. Farnaby.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will find her at the tea-table, when we return to the drawing-room.
+      Girls are out of place at dinner-parties.&rdquo; So he answered me&mdash;not
+      very graciously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As I stepped out on the landing, I looked up; I don&rsquo;t know why, unless I
+      was the unconscious object of magnetic attraction. Anyhow, I had my
+      reward. A bright young face peeped over the balusters of the upper
+      staircase, and modestly withdrew itself again in a violent hurry.
+      Everybody but Mr. Farnaby and myself had disappeared in the dining-room.
+      Was she having a peep at the young Socialist?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Another interruption to my letter, caused by another change in the
+      weather. The fog has vanished; the waiter is turning off the gas, and
+      letting in the drab-coloured daylight. I ask him if it is still raining.
+      He smiles, and rubs his hands, and says, &ldquo;It looks like clearing up soon,
+      sir.&rdquo; This man&rsquo;s head is gray; he has been all his life a waiter in London&mdash;and
+      he can still see the cheerful side of things. What native strength of mind
+      cast away on a vocation that is unworthy of it!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Well&mdash;and now about the Farnaby dinner. I feel a tightness in the
+      lower part of my waistcoat, Rufus, when I think of the dinner; there was
+      such a quantity of it, and Mr. Farnaby was so tyrannically resolute in
+      forcing his luxuries down the throats of his guests. His eye was on me, if
+      I let my plate go away before it was empty&mdash;his eye said &ldquo;I have paid
+      for this magnificent dinner, and I mean to see you eat it.&rdquo; Our printed
+      list of the dishes, as they succeeded each other, also informed us of the
+      varieties of wine which it was imperatively necessary to drink with each
+      dish. I got into difficulties early in the proceedings. The taste of
+      sherry, for instance, is absolutely nauseous to me; and Rhine wine turns
+      into vinegar ten minutes after it has passed my lips. I asked for the wine
+      that I could drink, out of its turn. You should have seen Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s
+      face, when I violated the rules of his dinner-table! It was the one
+      amusing incident of the feast&mdash;the one thing that alleviated the
+      dreary and mysterious spectacle of Mrs. Farnaby. There she sat, with her
+      mind hundreds of miles away from everything that was going on about her,
+      entangling the two guests, on her right hand and on her left, in a network
+      of vacant questions, just as she had entangled me. I discovered that one
+      of these gentlemen was a barrister and the other a ship-owner, by the
+      answers which Mrs. Farnaby absently extracted from them on the subject of
+      their respective vocations in life. And while she questioned incessantly,
+      she ate incessantly. Her vigorous body insisted on being fed. She would
+      have emptied her wineglass (I suspect) as readily as she plied her knife
+      and fork&mdash;but I discovered that a certain system of restraint was
+      established in the matter of wine. At intervals, Mr. Farnaby just looked
+      at the butler&mdash;and the butler and his bottle, on those occasions,
+      deliberately passed her by. Not the slightest visible change was produced
+      in her by the eating and drinking; she was equal to any demands that any
+      dinner could make on her. There was no flush in her face, no change in her
+      spirits, when she rose, in obedience to English custom, and retired to the
+      drawing-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Left together over their wine, the men began to talk politics.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I listened at the outset, expecting to get some information. Our readings
+      in modern history at Tadmor had informed us of the dominant political
+      position of the middle classes in England, since the time of the first
+      Reform Bill. Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s guests represented the respectable mediocrity
+      of social position, the professional and commercial average of the nation.
+      They all talked glibly enough&mdash;I and an old gentleman who sat next to
+      me being the only listeners. I had spent the morning lazily in the
+      smoking-room of the hotel, reading the day&rsquo;s newspapers. And what did I
+      hear now, when the politicians set in for their discussion? I heard the
+      leading articles of the day&rsquo;s newspapers translated into bald chat, and
+      coolly addressed by one man to another, as if they were his own individual
+      views on public affairs! This absurd imposture positively went the round
+      of the table, received and respected by everybody with a stolid solemnity
+      of make-believe which it was downright shameful to see. Not a man present
+      said, &ldquo;I saw that today in the <i>Times</i> or the <i>Telegraph.&rdquo;</i> Not
+      a man present had an opinion of his own; or, if he had an opinion,
+      ventured to express it; or, if he knew nothing of the subject, was honest
+      enough to say so. One enormous Sham, and everybody in a conspiracy to take
+      it for the real thing: that is an accurate description of the state of
+      political feeling among the representative men at Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s dinner. I
+      am not judging rashly by one example only; I have been taken to clubs and
+      public festivals, only to hear over and over again what I heard in Mr.
+      Farnaby&rsquo;s dining-room. Does it need any great foresight to see that such a
+      state of things as this cannot last much longer, in a country which has
+      not done with reforming itself yet? The time is coming, in England, when
+      the people who <i>have</i> opinions of their own will be heard, and when
+      Parliament will be forced to open the door to them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This is a nice outbreak of republican freedom! What does my long-suffering
+      friend think of it&mdash;waiting all the time to be presented to Mr.
+      Farnaby&rsquo;s niece? Everything in its place, Rufus. The niece followed the
+      politics, at the time; and she shall follow them now.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      You shall hear first what my next neighbour said of her&mdash;a quaint old
+      fellow, a retired doctor, if I remember correctly. He seemed to be as
+      weary of the second-hand newspaper talk as I was; he quite sparkled and
+      cheered up when I introduced the subject of Miss Regina. Have I mentioned
+      her name yet? If not, here it is for you in full:&mdash;Miss Regina
+      Mildmay.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I call her the brown girl,&rdquo; said the old gentleman. &ldquo;Brown hair, brown
+      eyes, and a brown skin. No, not a brunette; not dark enough for that&mdash;a
+      warm, delicate brown; wait till you see it! Takes after her father, I
+      should tell you. He was a fine-looking man in his time; foreign blood in
+      his veins, by his mother&rsquo;s side. Miss Regina gets her queer name by being
+      christened after his mother. Never mind her name; she&rsquo;s a charming person.
+      Let&rsquo;s drink her health.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      We drank her health. Remembering that he had called her &ldquo;the brown girl,&rdquo;
+       I said I supposed she was still quite young.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Better than young,&rdquo; the doctor answered; &ldquo;in the prime of life. I call
+      her a girl, by habit. Wait till you see her!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has she a good figure, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ha! you&rsquo;re like the Turks, are you? A nice-looking woman doesn&rsquo;t content
+      you&mdash;you must have her well-made too. We can accommodate you, sir; we
+      are slim and tall, with a swing of our hips, and we walk like a goddess.
+      Wait and see how her head is put on her shoulders&mdash;I say no more.
+      Proud? Not she! A simple, unaffected, kind-hearted creature. Always the
+      same; I never saw her out of temper in my life; I never heard her speak
+      ill of anybody. The man who gets her will be a man to be envied, I can
+      tell you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is she engaged to be married?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. She has had plenty of offers; but she doesn&rsquo;t seem to care for
+      anything of that sort&mdash;so far. Devotes herself to Mrs. Farnaby, and
+      keeps up her school-friendships. A splendid creature, with the vital
+      thermometer at temperate heart&mdash;a calm, meditative, equable person.
+      Pass me the olives. Only think! the man who discovered olives is unknown;
+      no statue of him erected in any part of the civilized earth. I know few
+      more remarkable instances of human ingratitude.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      I risked a bold question&mdash;but not on the subject of olives. &ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t
+      Miss Regina&rsquo;s life rather a dull one in this house?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor cautiously lowered his voice. &ldquo;It would be dull enough to some
+      women. Regina&rsquo;s early life has been a hard one. Her mother was Mr.
+      Ronald&rsquo;s eldest daughter. The old brute never forgave her for marrying
+      against his wishes. Mrs. Ronald did all she could, secretly, to help the
+      young wife in disgrace. But old Ronald had sole command of the money, and
+      kept it to himself. From Regina&rsquo;s earliest childhood there was always
+      distress at home. Her father harassed by creditors, trying one scheme
+      after another, and failing in all; her mother and herself, half starved&mdash;with
+      their very bedclothes sometimes at the pawnbrokers. I attended them in
+      their illnesses, and though they hid their wretchedness from everybody
+      else (proud as Lucifer, both of them!), they couldn&rsquo;t hide it from me.
+      Fancy the change to this house! I don&rsquo;t say that living here in clover is
+      enough for such a person as Regina; I only say it has its influence. She
+      is one of those young women, sir, who delight in sacrificing themselves to
+      others&mdash;she is devoted, for instance, to Mrs. Farnaby. I only hope
+      Mrs. Farnaby is worthy of it! Not that it matters to Regina. What she
+      does, she does out of her own sweetness of disposition. She brightens this
+      household, I can tell you! Farnaby did a wise thing, in his own domestic
+      interests, when he adopted her as his daughter. She thinks she can never
+      be grateful enough to him&mdash;the good creature!&mdash;though she has
+      repaid him a hundredfold. He&rsquo;ll find that out, one of these days, when a
+      husband takes her away. Don&rsquo;t suppose that I want to disparage our host&mdash;he&rsquo;s
+      an old friend of mine; but he&rsquo;s a little too apt to take the good things
+      that fall to his lot as if they were nothing but a just recognition of his
+      own merits. I have told him that to his face, often enough to have a right
+      to say it of him when he doesn&rsquo;t hear me. Do you smoke? I wish they would
+      drop their politics, and take to tobacco. I say Farnaby! I want a cigar.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This broad hint produced an adjournment to the smoking-room, the doctor
+      leading the way. I began to wonder how much longer my introduction to Miss
+      Regina was to be delayed. It was not to come until I had seen a new side
+      of my host&rsquo;s character, and had found myself promoted to a place of my own
+      in Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s estimation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As we rose from table one of the guests spoke to me of a visit that he had
+      recently paid to the part of Buckinghamshire which I come from. &ldquo;I was
+      shown a remarkably picturesque old house on the heath,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;They
+      told me it had been inhabited for centuries by the family of the
+      Goldenhearts. Are you in any way related to them?&rdquo; I answered that I was
+      very nearly related, having been born in the house&mdash;and there, as I
+      suppose, the matter ended. Being the youngest man of the party, I waited,
+      of course, until the rest of the gentlemen had passed out to the
+      smoking-room. Mr. Farnaby and I were left together. To my astonishment, he
+      put his arm cordially into mine, and led me out of the dining-room with
+      the genial familiarity of an old friend!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll give you such a cigar,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;as you can&rsquo;t buy for money in all
+      London. You have enjoyed yourself, I hope? Now we know what wine you like,
+      you won&rsquo;t have to ask the butler for it next time. Drop in any day, and
+      take pot-luck with us.&rdquo; He came to a standstill in the hall; his brassy
+      rasping voice assumed a new tone&mdash;a sort of parody of respect. &ldquo;Have
+      you been to your family place,&rdquo; he asked, &ldquo;since your return to England?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He had evidently heard the few words exchanged between his friend and
+      myself. It seemed odd that he should take any interest in a place
+      belonging to people who were strangers to him. However, his question was
+      easily answered. I had only to inform him that my father had sold the
+      house when he left England.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh dear, I&rsquo;m sorry to hear that!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Those old family places ought
+      to be kept up. The greatness of England, sir, strikes its roots in the old
+      families of England. They may be rich, or they may be poor&mdash;that
+      don&rsquo;t matter. An old family <i>is</i> an old family; it&rsquo;s sad to see their
+      hearths and homes sold to wealthy manufacturers who don&rsquo;t know who their
+      own grandfathers were. Would you allow me to ask what is the family motto
+      of the Goldenhearts?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Shall I own the truth? The bottles circulated freely at Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s
+      table&mdash;I began to wonder whether he was quite sober. I said I was
+      sorry to disappoint him, but I really did not know what my family motto
+      was.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was unaffectedly shocked. &ldquo;I think I saw a ring on your finger,&rdquo; he
+      said, as soon as he recovered himself. He lifted my left hand in his own
+      cold-fishy paw. The one ring I wear is of plain gold; it belonged to my
+      father and it has his initials inscribed on the signet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good gracious, you haven&rsquo;t got your coat-of-arms on your seal!&rdquo; cried Mr.
+      Farnaby. &ldquo;My dear sir, I am old enough to be your father, and I must take
+      the freedom of remonstrating with you. Your coat-of-arms and your motto
+      are no doubt at the Heralds&rsquo; Office&mdash;why don&rsquo;t you apply for them?
+      Shall I go there for you? I will do it with pleasure. You shouldn&rsquo;t be
+      careless about these things&mdash;you shouldn&rsquo;t indeed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      I listened in speechless astonishment. Was he ironically expressing his
+      contempt for old families? We got into the smoking-room at last; and my
+      friend the doctor enlightened me privately in a corner. Every word Mr.
+      Farnaby had said had been spoken in earnest. This man, who owes his rise
+      from the lowest social position entirely to himself&mdash;who, judging by
+      his own experience, has every reason to despise the poor pride of ancestry&mdash;actually
+      feels a sincerely servile admiration for the accident of birth! &ldquo;Oh, poor
+      human nature!&rdquo; as Somebody says. How cordially I agree with Somebody!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We went up to the drawing-room; and I was introduced to &ldquo;the brown girl&rdquo;
+       at last. What impression did she produce on me?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Do you know, Rufus, there is some perverse reluctance in me to go on with
+      this inordinately long letter just when I have arrived at the most
+      interesting part of it. I can&rsquo;t account for my own state of mind; I only
+      know that it is so. The difficulty of describing the young lady doesn&rsquo;t
+      perplex me like the difficulty of describing Mrs. Farnaby. I can see her
+      now, as vividly as if she was present in the room. I even remember (and
+      this is astonishing in a man) the dress that she wore. And yet I shrink
+      from writing about her, as if there was something wrong in it. Do me a
+      kindness, good friend, and let me send off all these sheets of paper, the
+      idle work of an idle morning, just as they are. When I write next, I
+      promise to be ashamed of my own capricious state of mind, and to paint the
+      portrait of Miss Regina at full length.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the mean while, don&rsquo;t run away with the idea that she has made a
+      disagreeable impression upon me. Good heavens! it is far from that. You
+      have had the old doctor&rsquo;s opinion of her. Very well. Multiply this opinion
+      by ten&mdash;and you have mine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      [NOTE:&mdash;A strange indorsement appears on this letter, dated several
+      months after the period at which it was received:&mdash;<i>&ldquo;Ah, poor
+      Amelius! He had better have gone back to Miss Mellicent, and put up with
+      the little drawback of her age. What a bright, lovable fellow he was!
+      Goodbye to Goldenheart!&rdquo;</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These lines are not signed. They are known, however, to be in the
+      handwriting of Rufus Dingwell.]
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 2
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      I particularly want you to come and lunch with us, dearest Cecilia, the
+      day after tomorrow. Don&rsquo;t say to yourself, &ldquo;The Farnaby&rsquo;s house is dull,
+      and Regina is too slow for me,&rdquo; and don&rsquo;t think about the long drive for
+      the horses, from your place to London. This letter has an interest of its
+      own, my dear&mdash;I have got something new for you. What do you think of
+      a young man, who is clever and handsome and agreeable&mdash;and, wonder of
+      wonders, quite unlike any other young Englishman you ever saw in your
+      life? You are to meet him at luncheon; and you are to get used to his
+      strange name beforehand. For which purpose I enclose his card.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He made his first appearance at our house, at dinner yesterday evening.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When he was presented to me at the tea-table, he was not to be put off
+      with a bow&mdash;he insisted on shaking hands. &ldquo;Where I have been,&rdquo; he
+      explained, &ldquo;we help a first introduction with a little cordiality.&rdquo; He
+      looked into his tea-cup, after he said that, with the air of a man who
+      could say something more, if he had a little encouragement. Of course, I
+      encouraged him. &ldquo;I suppose shaking hands is much the same form in America
+      that bowing is in England?&rdquo; I said, as suggestively as I could.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked up directly, and shook his head. &ldquo;We have too many forms in this
+      country,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;The virtue of hospitality, for instance, seems to have
+      become a form in England. In America, when a new acquaintance says, &lsquo;Come
+      and see me,&rsquo; he means it. When he says it here, in nine cases out of ten
+      he looks unaffectedly astonished if you are fool enough to take him at his
+      word. I hate insincerity, Miss Regina&mdash;and now I have returned to my
+      own country, I find insincerity one of the established institutions of
+      English Society. &lsquo;Can we do anything for you?&rsquo; Ask them to do something
+      for you&mdash;and you will see what it means. &lsquo;Thank you for such a
+      pleasant evening!&rsquo; Get into the carriage with them when they go home&mdash;and
+      you will find that it means, &lsquo;What a bore!&rsquo; &lsquo;Ah, Mr. So-and-so, allow me
+      to congratulate you on your new appointment.&rsquo; Mr. So-and-so passes out of
+      hearing&mdash;and you discover what the congratulations mean. &lsquo;Corrupt old
+      brute! he has got the price of his vote at the last division.&rsquo; &lsquo;Oh, Mr.
+      Blank, what a charming book you have written!&rsquo; Mr. Blank passes out of
+      hearing&mdash;and you ask what his book is about. &lsquo;To tell you the truth,
+      I haven&rsquo;t read it. Hush! he&rsquo;s received at Court; one must say these
+      things.&rsquo; The other day a friend took me to a grand dinner at the Lord
+      Mayor&rsquo;s. I accompanied him first to his club; many distinguished guests
+      met there before going to the dinner. Heavens, how they spoke of the Lord
+      Mayor! One of them didn&rsquo;t know his name, and didn&rsquo;t want to know it;
+      another wasn&rsquo;t certain whether he was a tallow-chandler or a button-maker;
+      a third, who had met with him somewhere, described him as a damned ass; a
+      fourth said, &lsquo;Oh, don&rsquo;t be hard on him; he&rsquo;s only a vulgar old Cockney,
+      without an <i>h</i> in his whole composition.&rsquo; A chorus of general
+      agreement followed, as the dinner-hour approached: &lsquo;What a bore!&rsquo; I
+      whispered to my friend, &lsquo;Why do they go?&rsquo; He answered, &lsquo;You see, one must
+      do this sort of thing.&rsquo; And when we got to the Mansion House, they did
+      that sort of thing with a vengeance! When the speech-making set in, these
+      very men who had been all expressing their profound contempt for the Lord
+      Mayor behind his back, now flattered him to his face in such a shamelessly
+      servile way, with such a meanly complete insensibility to their own
+      baseness, that I did really and literally turn sick. I slipped out into
+      the fresh air, and fumigated myself, after the company I had kept, with a
+      cigar. No, no! it&rsquo;s useless to excuse these things (I could quote dozens
+      of other instances that have come under my own observation) by saying that
+      they are trifles. When trifles make themselves habits of yours or of mine,
+      they become a part of your character or mine. We have an inveterately
+      false and vicious system of society in England. If you want to trace one
+      of the causes, look back to the little organized insincerities of English
+      life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Of course you understand, Cecilia, that this was not all said at one
+      burst, as I have written it here. Some of it came out in the way of
+      answers to my inquiries, and some of it was spoken in the intervals of
+      laughing, talking, and tea-drinking. But I want to show you how very
+      different this young man is from the young men whom we are in the habit of
+      meeting, and so I huddle his talk together in one sample, as Papa Farnaby
+      would call it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      My dear, he is decidedly handsome (I mean our delightful Amelius); his
+      face has a bright, eager look, indescribably refreshing as a contrast to
+      the stolid composure of the ordinary young Englishman. His smile is
+      charming; he moves as gracefully&mdash;with as little self-consciousness&mdash;as
+      my Italian greyhound. He has been brought up among the strangest people in
+      America; and (would you believe it?) he is actually a Socialist. Don&rsquo;t be
+      alarmed. He shocked us all dreadfully by declaring that his Socialism was
+      entirely learnt out of the New Testament. I have looked at the New
+      Testament, since he mentioned some of his principles to me; and, do you
+      know, I declare it is true!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Oh, I forgot&mdash;the young Socialist plays and sings! When we asked him
+      to go to the piano, he got up and began directly. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t do it well
+      enough,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;to want a great deal of pressing.&rdquo; He sang old English
+      songs, with great taste and sweetness. One of the gentlemen of our party,
+      evidently disliking him, spoke rather rudely, I thought. &ldquo;A Socialist who
+      sings and plays,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;is a harmless Socialist indeed. I begin to
+      feel that my balance is safe at my banker&rsquo;s, and that London won&rsquo;t be set
+      on fire with petroleum this time.&rdquo; He got his answer, I can tell you. &ldquo;Why
+      should we set London on fire? London takes a regular percentage of your
+      income from you, sir, whether you like it or not, on sound Socialist
+      principles. You are the man who has got the money, and Socialism says:&mdash;You
+      must and shall help the man who has got none. That is exactly what your
+      own Poor Law says to you, every time the collector leaves the paper at
+      your house.&rdquo; Wasn&rsquo;t it clever?&mdash;and it was doubly severe, because it
+      was good-humouredly said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Between ourselves, Cecilia, I think he is struck with me. When I walked
+      about the room, his bright eyes followed me everywhere. And, when I took a
+      chair by somebody else, not feeling it quite right to keep him all to
+      myself, he invariably contrived to find a seat on the other side of me.
+      His voice, too, had a certain tone, addressed to me, and to no other
+      person in the room. Judge for yourself when you come here; but don&rsquo;t jump
+      to conclusions, if you please. Oh no&mdash;I am not going to fall in love
+      with him! It isn&rsquo;t in me to fall in love with anybody. Do you remember
+      what the last man whom I refused said of me? &ldquo;She has a machine on the
+      left side of her that pumps blood through her body, but she has no heart.&rdquo;
+       I pity the woman who marries <i>that</i> man!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One thing more, my dear. This curious Amelius seems to notice trifles
+      which escape men in general, just as <i>we</i> do. Towards the close of
+      the evening, poor Mamma Farnaby fell into one of her vacant states; half
+      asleep and half awake on the sofa in the back drawing-room. &ldquo;Your aunt
+      interests me,&rdquo; he whispered. &ldquo;She must have suffered some terrible sorrow,
+      at some past time in her life.&rdquo; Fancy a man seeing that! He dropped some
+      hints, which showed that he was puzzling his brains to discover how I got
+      on with her, and whether I was in her confidence or not: he even went the
+      length of asking what sort of life I led with the uncle and aunt who have
+      adopted me. My dear, it was done so delicately, with such irresistible
+      sympathy and such a charming air of respect, that I was quite startled
+      when I remembered, in the wakeful hours of the night, how freely I had
+      spoken to him. Not that I have betrayed any secrets; for, as you know, I
+      am as ignorant as everybody else of what the early troubles of my poor
+      dear aunt may have been. But I did tell him how I came into the house a
+      helpless little orphan girl; and how generously these two good relatives
+      adopted me; and how happy it made me to find that I could really do
+      something to cheer their sad childless lives. &ldquo;I wish I was half as good
+      as you are,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t understand how you became fond of Mrs.
+      Farnaby. Perhaps it began in sympathy and compassion?&rdquo; Just think of that,
+      from a young Englishman! He went on confessing his perplexities, as if we
+      had known one another from childhood. &ldquo;I am a little surprised to see Mrs.
+      Farnaby present at parties of this sort; I should have thought she would
+      have stayed in her own room.&rdquo; &ldquo;That&rsquo;s just what she objects to do,&rdquo; I
+      answered; &ldquo;She says people will report that her husband is ashamed of her,
+      or that she is not fit to be seen in society, if she doesn&rsquo;t appear at the
+      parties&mdash;and she is determined not to be misrepresented in that way.&rdquo;
+       Can you understand my talking to him with so little reserve? It is a
+      specimen, Cecilia, of the odd manner in which my impulses carry me away,
+      in this man&rsquo;s company. He is so nice and gentle&mdash;and yet so manly. I
+      shall be curious to see if you can resist him, with your superior firmness
+      and knowledge of the world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the strangest incident of all I have not told you yet&mdash;feeling
+      some hesitation about the best way of describing it, so as to interest you
+      in what has deeply interested me. I must tell it as plainly as I can, and
+      leave it to speak for itself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Who do you think has invited Amelius Goldenheart to luncheon? Not Papa
+      Farnaby, who only invites him to dinner. Not I, it is needless to say. Who
+      is it, then? Mamma Farnaby herself. He has actually so interested her that
+      she has been thinking of him, and dreaming of him, in his absence!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I heard her last night, poor thing, talking and grinding her teeth in her
+      sleep; and I went into her room to try if I could quiet her, in the usual
+      way, by putting my cool hand on her forehead, and pressing it gently. (The
+      old doctor says it&rsquo;s magnetism, which is ridiculous.) Well, it didn&rsquo;t
+      succeed this time; she went on muttering, and making that dreadful sound
+      with her teeth. Occasionally a word was spoken clearly enough to be
+      intelligible. I could make no connected sense of what I heard; but I could
+      positively discover this&mdash;that she was dreaming of our guest from
+      America!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I said nothing about it, of course, when I went upstairs with her cup of
+      tea this morning. What do you think was the first thing she asked for?
+      Pen, ink, and paper. Her next request was that I would write Mr.
+      Goldenheart&rsquo;s address on an envelope. &ldquo;Are you going to write to him?&rdquo; I
+      asked. &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I want to speak to him, while John is out of the
+      way at business,&rdquo; &ldquo;Secrets?&rdquo; I said, turning it off with a laugh. She
+      answered, speaking gravely and earnestly. &ldquo;Yes; secrets.&rdquo; The letter was
+      written, and sent to his hotel, inviting him to lunch with us on the first
+      day when he was disengaged. He has replied, appointing the day after
+      tomorrow. By way of trying to penetrate the mystery, I inquired if she
+      wished me to appear at the luncheon. She considered with herself, before
+      she answered that. &ldquo;I want him to be amused, and put in a good humour,&rdquo;
+       she said, &ldquo;before I speak to him. You must lunch with us&mdash;and ask
+      Cecilia.&rdquo; She stopped, and considered once more. &ldquo;Mind one thing,&rdquo; she
+      went on. &ldquo;Your uncle is to know nothing about it. If you tell him, I will
+      never speak to you again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Is this not extraordinary? Whatever her dream may have been, it has
+      evidently produced a strong impression on her. I firmly believe she means
+      to take him away with her to her own room, when the luncheon is over.
+      Dearest Cecilia, you must help me to stop this! I have never been trusted
+      with her secrets; they may, for all I know, be innocent secrets enough,
+      poor soul! But it is surely in the highest degree undesirable that she
+      should take into her confidence a young man who is only an acquaintance of
+      ours: she will either make herself ridiculous, or do something worse. If
+      Mr. Farnaby finds it out, I really tremble for what may happen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For the sake of old friendship, don&rsquo;t leave me to face this difficulty by
+      myself. A line, only one line, dearest, to say that you will not fail me.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      BOOK THE THIRD. MRS. FARNABY&rsquo;S FOOT
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 1
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      It is an afternoon concert; and modern German music was largely
+      represented on the programme. The patient English people sat in
+      closely-packed rows, listening to the pretentious instrumental noises
+      which were impudently offered to them as a substitute for melody. While
+      these docile victims of the worst of all quackeries (musical quackery)
+      were still toiling through their first hour of endurance, a passing ripple
+      of interest stirred the stagnant surface of the audience caused by the
+      sudden rising of a lady overcome by the heat. She was quickly led out of
+      the concert-room (after whispering a word of explanation to two young
+      ladies seated at her side) by a gentleman who made a fourth member of the
+      party. Left by themselves, the young ladies looked at each other,
+      whispered to each other, half rose from their places, became confusedly
+      conscious that the wandering attention of the audience was fixed on them,
+      and decided at last on following their companions out of the hall.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the lady who had preceded them had some reason of her own for not
+      waiting to recover herself in the vestibule. When the gentleman in charge
+      of her asked if he should get a glass of water, she answered sharply, &ldquo;Get
+      a cab&mdash;and be quick about it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The cab was found in a moment; the gentleman got in after her, by the
+      lady&rsquo;s invitation. &ldquo;Are you better now?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have never had anything the matter with me,&rdquo; she replied, quietly;
+      &ldquo;tell the man to drive faster.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Having obeyed his instructions, the gentleman (otherwise Amelius) began to
+      look a little puzzled. The lady (Mrs. Farnaby herself) perceived his
+      condition of mind, and favoured him with an explanation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I had my own motive for asking you to luncheon today,&rdquo; she began, in that
+      steady downright way of speaking that was peculiar to her. &ldquo;I wanted to
+      have a word with you privately. My niece Regina&mdash;don&rsquo;t be surprised
+      at my calling her my niece, when you have heard Mr. Farnaby call her his
+      daughter. She <i>is</i> my niece. Adopting her is a mere phrase. It
+      doesn&rsquo;t alter facts; it doesn&rsquo;t make her Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s child or mine, does
+      it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She had ended with a question, but she seemed to want no answer to it. Her
+      face was turned towards the cab-window, instead of towards Amelius. He was
+      one of those rare people who are capable of remaining silent when they
+      have nothing to say. Mrs. Farnaby went on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My niece Regina is a good creature in her way; but she suspects people.
+      She has some reason of her own for trying to prevent me from taking you
+      into my confidence; and her friend Cecilia is helping her. Yes, yes; the
+      concert was the obstacle which they had arranged to put in my way. You
+      were obliged to go, after telling them you wanted to hear the music; and I
+      couldn&rsquo;t complain, because they had got a fourth ticket for me. I made up
+      my mind what to do; and I have done it. Nothing wonderful in my being
+      taken ill with the heat; nothing wonderful in your doing your duty as a
+      gentleman and looking after me&mdash;and what is the consequence? Here we
+      are together, on our way to my room, in spite of them. Not so bad for a
+      poor helpless creature like me, is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Inwardly wondering what it all meant, and what she could possibly want
+      with him, Amelius suggested that the young ladies might leave the
+      concert-room, and, not finding them in the vestibule, might follow them
+      back to the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Farnaby turned her head from the window, and looked him in the face
+      for the first time. &ldquo;I have been a match for them so far,&rdquo; she said;
+      &ldquo;leave it to me, and you will find I can be a match for them still.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      After saying this, she watched the puzzled face of Amelius with a moment&rsquo;s
+      steady scrutiny. Her full lips relaxed into a faint smile; her head sank
+      slowly on her bosom. &ldquo;I wonder whether he thinks I am a little crazy?&rdquo; she
+      said quietly to herself. &ldquo;Some women in my place would have gone mad years
+      ago. Perhaps it might have been better for <i>me?&rdquo;</i> She looked up again
+      at Amelius. &ldquo;I believe you are a good-tempered fellow,&rdquo; she went on. &ldquo;Are
+      you in your usual temper now? Did you enjoy your lunch? Has the lively
+      company of the young ladies put you in a good humour with women generally?
+      I want you to be in a particularly good humour with me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She spoke quite gravely. Amelius, a little to his own astonishment, found
+      himself answering gravely on his side; assuring her, in the most
+      conventional terms, that he was entirely at her service. Something in her
+      manner affected him disagreeably. If he had followed his impulse, he would
+      have jumped out of the cab, and have recovered his liberty and his
+      light-heartedness at one and the same moment, by running away at the top
+      of his speed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The driver turned into the street in which Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s house was
+      situated. Mrs. Farnaby stopped him, and got out at some little distance
+      from the door. &ldquo;You think the young ones will follow us back,&rdquo; she said to
+      Amelius. &ldquo;It doesn&rsquo;t matter, the servants will have nothing to tell them
+      if they do.&rdquo; She checked him in the act of knocking, when they reached the
+      house door. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s tea-time downstairs,&rdquo; she whispered, looking at her
+      watch. &ldquo;You and I are going into the house, without letting the servants
+      know anything about it. <i>Now</i> do you understand?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She produced from her pocket a steel ring, with several keys attached to
+      it. &ldquo;A duplicate of Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s key,&rdquo; she explained, as she chose one,
+      and opened the street door. &ldquo;Sometimes, when I find myself waking in the
+      small hours of the morning, I can&rsquo;t endure my bed; I must go out and walk.
+      My key lets me in again, just as it lets us in now, without disturbing
+      anybody. You had better say nothing about it to Mr. Farnaby. Not that it
+      matters much; for I should refuse to give up my key if he asked me. But
+      you&rsquo;re a good-natured fellow&mdash;and you don&rsquo;t want to make bad blood
+      between man and wife, do you? Step softly, and follow me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius hesitated. There was something repellent to him in entering
+      another man&rsquo;s house under these clandestine conditions. &ldquo;All right!&rdquo;
+       whispered Mrs. Farnaby, perfectly understanding him. &ldquo;Consult your
+      dignity; go out again, and knock at the door, and ask if I am at home. I
+      only wanted to prevent a fuss and an interruption when Regina comes back.
+      If the servants don&rsquo;t know we are here, they will tell her we haven&rsquo;t
+      returned&mdash;don&rsquo;t you see?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It would have been absurd to contest the matter, after this. Amelius
+      followed her submissively to the farther end of the hall. There, she
+      opened the door of a long narrow room, built out at the back of the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is my den,&rdquo; she said, signing to Amelius to pass in. &ldquo;While we are
+      here, nobody will disturb us.&rdquo; She laid aside her bonnet and shawl, and
+      pointed to a box of cigars on the table. &ldquo;Take one,&rdquo; she resumed. &ldquo;I smoke
+      too, when nobody sees me. That&rsquo;s one of the reasons, I dare say, why
+      Regina wished to keep you out of my room. I find smoking composes me. What
+      do <i>you</i> say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She lit a cigar, and handed the matches to Amelius. Finding that he stood
+      fairly committed to the adventure, he resigned himself to circumstances
+      with his customary facility. He too lit a cigar, and took a chair by the
+      fire, and looked about him with an impenetrable composure worthy of Rufus
+      Dingwell himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The room bore no sort of resemblance to a boudoir. A faded old turkey
+      carpet was spread on the floor. The common mahogany table had no covering;
+      the chintz on the chairs was of a truly venerable age. Some of the
+      furniture made the place look like a room occupied by a man. Dumb-bells
+      and clubs of the sort used in athletic exercises hung over the bare
+      mantelpiece; a large ugly oaken structure with closed doors, something
+      between a cabinet and a wardrobe, rose on one side to the ceiling; a
+      turning lathe stood against the opposite wall. Above the lathe were hung
+      in a row four prints, in dingy old frames of black wood, which especially
+      attracted the attention of Amelius. Mostly foreign prints, they were all
+      discoloured by time, and they all strangely represented different aspects
+      of the same subject&mdash;infants parted from their parents by desertion
+      or robbery. The young Moses was there, in his ark of bulrushes, on the
+      river bank. Good St. Francis appeared next, roaming the streets, and
+      rescuing forsaken children in the wintry night. A third print showed the
+      foundling hospital of old Paris, with the turning cage in the wall, and
+      the bell to ring when the infant was placed in it. The next and last
+      subject was the stealing of a child from the lap of its slumbering nurse
+      by a gipsy woman. These sadly suggestive subjects were the only ornaments
+      on the walls. No traces of books or music were visible; no needlework of
+      any sort was to be seen; no elegant trifles; no china or flowers or
+      delicate lacework or sparkling jewelry&mdash;nothing, absolutely nothing,
+      suggestive of a woman&rsquo;s presence appeared in any part of Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s
+      room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have got several things to say to you,&rdquo; she began; &ldquo;but one thing must
+      be settled first. Give me your sacred word of honour that you will not
+      repeat to any mortal creature what I am going to tell you now.&rdquo; She
+      reclined in her chair, and drew in a mouthful of smoke and puffed it out
+      again, and waited for his reply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Young and unsuspicious as he was, this unscrupulous method of taking his
+      confidence by storm startled Amelius. His natural tact and good sense told
+      him plainly that Mrs. Farnaby was asking too much.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be angry with me, ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;I must remind you that you are
+      going to tell me your secrets, without any wish to intrude on them on my
+      part&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She interrupted him there. &ldquo;What does that matter?&rdquo; she asked coolly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius was obstinate; he went on with what he had to say. &ldquo;I should like
+      to know,&rdquo; he proceeded, &ldquo;that I am doing no wrong to anybody, before I
+      give you my promise?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will be doing a kindness to a miserable creature,&rdquo; she answered, as
+      quietly as ever; &ldquo;and you will be doing no wrong to yourself or to anybody
+      else, if you promise. That is all I can say. Your cigar is out. Take a
+      light.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius took a light, with the dog-like docility of a man in a state of
+      blank amazement. She waited, watching him composedly until his cigar was
+      in working order again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;Will you promise now?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius gave her his promise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On your sacred word of honour?&rdquo; she persisted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius repeated the formula. She reclined in her chair once more. &ldquo;I want
+      to speak to you as if I was speaking to an old friend,&rdquo; she explained. &ldquo;I
+      suppose I may call you Amelius?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Amelius, I must tell you first that I committed a sin, many long
+      years ago. I have suffered the punishment; I am suffering it still. Ever
+      since I was a young woman, I have had a heavy burden of misery on my
+      heart. I am not reconciled to it, I cannot submit to it, yet. I never
+      shall be reconciled to it, I never shall submit to it, if I live to be a
+      hundred. Do you wish me to enter into particulars? or will you have mercy
+      on me, and be satisfied with what I have told you so far?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was not said entreatingly, or tenderly, or humbly: she spoke with a
+      savage self-contained resignation in her manner and in her voice. Amelius
+      forgot his cigar again&mdash;and again she reminded him of it. He answered
+      her as his own generous impulsive temperament urged him; he said, &ldquo;Tell me
+      nothing that causes you a moment&rsquo;s pain; tell me only how I can help you.&rdquo;
+       She handed him the box of matches; she said, &ldquo;Your cigar is out again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He laid down his cigar. In his brief span of life he had seen no human
+      misery that expressed itself in this way. &ldquo;Excuse me,&rdquo; he answered; &ldquo;I
+      won&rsquo;t smoke just now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laid her cigar aside like Amelius, and crossed her arms over her
+      bosom, and looked at him, with the first softening gleam of tenderness
+      that he had seen in her face. &ldquo;My friend,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;yours will be a sad
+      life&mdash;I pity you. The world will wound that sensitive heart of yours;
+      the world will trample on that generous nature. One of these days,
+      perhaps, you will be a wretch like me. No more of that. Get up; I have
+      something to show you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rising herself, she led the way to the large oaken press, and took her
+      bunch of keys out of her pocket again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;About this old sorrow of mine,&rdquo; she resumed. &ldquo;Do me justice, Amelius, at
+      the outset. I haven&rsquo;t treated it as some women treat their sorrows&mdash;I
+      haven&rsquo;t nursed it and petted it and made the most of it to myself and to
+      others. No! I have tried every means of relief, every possible pursuit
+      that could occupy my mind. One example of what I say will do as well as a
+      hundred. See it for yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She put the key in the lock. It resisted her first efforts to open it.
+      With a contemptuous burst of impatience and a sudden exertion of her rare
+      strength, she tore open the two doors of the press. Behind the door on the
+      left appeared a row of open shelves. The opposite compartment, behind the
+      door on the right, was filled by drawers with brass handles. She shut the
+      left door; angrily banging it to, as if the opening of it had disclosed
+      something which she did not wish to be seen. By the merest chance, Amelius
+      had looked that way first. In the one instant in which it was possible to
+      see anything, he had noticed, carefully laid out on one of the shelves, a
+      baby&rsquo;s long linen frock and cap, turned yellow by the lapse of time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The half-told story of the past was more than half told now. The treasured
+      relics of the infant threw their little glimmer of light on the motive
+      which had chosen the subjects of the prints on the wall. A child deserted
+      and lost! A child who, by bare possibility, might be living still!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She turned towards Amelius suddenly, &ldquo;There is nothing to interest you on
+      <i>that</i> side,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Look at the drawers here; open them for
+      yourself.&rdquo; She drew back as she spoke, and pointed to the uppermost of the
+      row of drawers. A narrow slip of paper was pasted on it, bearing this
+      inscription:&mdash;<i>&ldquo;Dead Consolations.&rdquo;</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius opened the drawer; it was full of books. &ldquo;Look at them,&rdquo; she said.
+      Amelius, obeying her, discovered dictionaries, grammars, exercises, poems,
+      novels, and histories&mdash;all in the German language.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A foreign language tried as a relief,&rdquo; said Mrs. Farnaby, speaking
+      quietly behind him. &ldquo;Month after month of hard study&mdash;all forgotten
+      now. The old sorrow came back in spite of it. A dead consolation! Open the
+      next drawer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The next drawer revealed water-colours and drawing materials huddled
+      together in a corner, and a heap of poor little conventional landscapes
+      filling up the rest of the space. As works of art, they were wretched in
+      the last degree; monuments of industry and application miserably and
+      completely thrown away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I had no talent for that pursuit, as you see,&rdquo; said Mrs. Farnaby. &ldquo;But I
+      persevered with it, week after week, month after month. I thought to
+      myself, &lsquo;I hate it so, it costs me such dreadful trouble, it so worries
+      and persecutes and humiliates me, that <i>this</i> surely must keep my
+      mind occupied and my thoughts away from myself!&rsquo; No; the old sorrow stared
+      me in the face again on the paper that I was spoiling, through the colours
+      that I couldn&rsquo;t learn to use. Another dead consolation! Shut it up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She herself opened a third and a fourth drawer. In one there appeared a
+      copy of Euclid, and a slate with the problems still traced on it; the
+      other contained a microscope, and the treatises relating to its use.
+      &ldquo;Always the same effort,&rdquo; she said, shutting the door of the press as she
+      spoke; &ldquo;and always the same result. You have had enough of it, and so have
+      I.&rdquo; She turned, and pointed to the lathe in the corner, and to the clubs
+      and dumb-bells over the mantelpiece. &ldquo;I can look at <i>them</i>
+      patiently,&rdquo; she went on; &ldquo;they give me bodily relief. I work at the lathe
+      till my back aches; I swing the clubs till I&rsquo;m ready to drop with fatigue.
+      And then I lie down on the rug there, and sleep it off, and forget myself
+      for an hour or two. Come back to the fire again. You have seen my dead
+      consolations; you must hear about my living consolation next. In justice
+      to Mr. Farnaby&mdash;ah, how I hate him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She spoke those last vehement words to herself, but with such intense
+      bitterness of contempt that the tones were quite loud enough to be heard.
+      Amelius looked furtively towards the door. Was there no hope that Regina
+      and her friend might return and interrupt them? After what he had seen and
+      heard, could <i>he</i> hope to console Mrs. Farnaby? He could only wonder
+      what object she could possibly have in view in taking him into her
+      confidence. &ldquo;Am I always to be in a mess with women?&rdquo; he thought to
+      himself. &ldquo;First poor Mellicent, and now this one. What next?&rdquo; He lit his
+      cigar again. The brotherhood of smokers, and they alone, will understand
+      what a refuge it was to him at that moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give me a light,&rdquo; said Mrs. Farnaby, recalled to the remembrance of her
+      own cigar. &ldquo;I want to know one thing before I go on. Amelius, I watched
+      those bright eyes of yours at luncheon-time. Did they tell me the truth?
+      You&rsquo;re not in love with my niece, are you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius took his cigar out of his mouth, and looked at her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Out with it boldly!&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius let it out, to a certain extent. &ldquo;I admire her very much,&rdquo; he
+      answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; Mrs. Farnaby remarked, &ldquo;you don&rsquo;t know her as well as I do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The disdainful indifference of her tone irritated Amelius. He was still
+      young enough to believe in the existence of gratitude; and Mrs. Farnaby
+      had spoken ungratefully. Besides, he was fond enough of Regina already to
+      feel offended when she was referred to slightingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am surprised to hear what you say of her,&rdquo; he burst out. &ldquo;She is quite
+      devoted to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh yes,&rdquo; said Mrs. Farnaby, carelessly. &ldquo;She is devoted to me, of course&mdash;she
+      is the living consolation I told you of just now. That was Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s
+      notion in adopting her. Mr. Farnaby thought to himself, &lsquo;Here&rsquo;s a
+      ready-made daughter for my wife&mdash;that&rsquo;s all this tiresome woman wants
+      to comfort her: now we shall do.&rsquo; Do you know what I call that? I call it
+      reasoning like an idiot. A man may be very clever at his business&mdash;and
+      may be a contemptible fool in other respects. Another woman&rsquo;s child a
+      consolation to <i>me!</i> Pah! it makes me sick to think of it. I have one
+      merit, Amelius, I don&rsquo;t cant. It&rsquo;s my duty to take care of my sister&rsquo;s
+      child; and I do my duty willingly. Regina&rsquo;s a good sort of creature&mdash;I
+      don&rsquo;t dispute it. But she&rsquo;s like all those tall darkish women: there&rsquo;s no
+      backbone in her, no dash; a kind, feeble, goody-goody, sugarish
+      disposition; and a deal of quiet obstinacy at the bottom of it, I can tell
+      you. Oh yes, I do her justice; I don&rsquo;t deny that she&rsquo;s devoted to me, as
+      you say. But I am making a clean breast of it now. And you ought to know,
+      and you shall know, that Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s living consolation is no more a
+      consolation to me than the things you have seen in the drawers. There! now
+      we&rsquo;ve done with Regina. No: there&rsquo;s one thing more to be cleared up. When
+      you say you admire her, what do you mean? Do you mean to marry her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For once in his life Amelius stood on his dignity. &ldquo;I have too much
+      respect for the young lady to answer your question,&rdquo; he said loftily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because, if you do,&rdquo; Mrs. Farnaby proceeded, &ldquo;I mean to put every
+      possible obstacle in your way. In short, I mean to prevent it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This plain declaration staggered Amelius. He confessed the truth by
+      implication in one word.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why?&rdquo; he asked sharply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wait a little, and recover your temper,&rdquo; she answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a pause. They sat, on either side of the fireplace, and eyed
+      each other attentively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now are you ready?&rdquo; Mrs. Farnaby resumed. &ldquo;Here is my reason. If you
+      marry Regina, or marry anybody, you will settle down somewhere, and lead a
+      dull life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said Amelius; &ldquo;and why not, if I like it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because I want you to remain a roving bachelor; here today and gone
+      tomorrow&mdash;travelling all over the world, and seeing everything and
+      everybody.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What good will that do to <i>you,</i> Mrs. Farnaby?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She rose from her own side of the fireplace, crossed to the side on which
+      Amelius was sitting, and, standing before him, placed her hands heavily on
+      his shoulders. Her eyes grew radiant with a sudden interest and animation
+      as they looked down on him, riveted on his face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am still waiting, my friend, for the living consolation that may yet
+      come to me,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;And, hear this, Amelius! After all the years that
+      have passed, you may be the man who brings it to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In the momentary silence that followed, they heard a double knock at the
+      house-door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Regina!&rdquo; said Mrs. Farnaby.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As the name passed her lips, she sprang to the door of the room, and
+      turned the key in the lock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 2
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      Amelius rose impulsively from his chair.
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Farnaby turned at the same moment, and signed to him to resume his
+      seat. &ldquo;You have given me your promise,&rdquo; she whispered. &ldquo;All I ask of you
+      is to be silent.&rdquo; She softly drew the key out of the door, and showed it
+      to him. &ldquo;You can&rsquo;t get out,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;unless you take the key from me by
+      force!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Whatever Amelius might think of the situation in which he now found
+      himself, the one thing that he could honourably do was to say nothing, and
+      submit to it. He remained quietly by the fire. No imaginable consideration
+      (he mentally resolved) should induce him to consent to a second
+      confidential interview in Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The servant opened the house-door. Regina&rsquo;s voice was heard in the hall.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has my aunt come in?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, miss.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you heard nothing of her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing, miss.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has Mr. Goldenheart been here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, miss.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very extraordinary! What can have become of them, Cecilia?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The voice of the other lady was heard in answer. &ldquo;We have probably missed
+      them, on leaving the concert room. Don&rsquo;t alarm yourself, Regina. I must go
+      back, under any circumstances; the carriage will be waiting for me. If I
+      see anything of your aunt, I will say that you are expecting her at home.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One moment, Cecilia! (Thomas, you needn&rsquo;t wait.) Is it really true that
+      you don&rsquo;t like Mr. Goldenheart?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What! has it come to that, already? I&rsquo;ll try to like him, Regina. Goodbye
+      again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The closing of the street door told that the ladies had separated. The
+      sound was followed, in another moment, by the opening and closing of the
+      dining-room door. Mrs. Farnaby returned to her chair at the fireplace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Regina has gone into the dining-room to wait for us,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I see
+      you don&rsquo;t like your position here; and I won&rsquo;t keep you more than a few
+      minutes longer. You are of course at a loss to understand what I was
+      saying to you, when the knock at the door interrupted us. Sit down again
+      for five minutes; it fidgets me to see you standing there, looking at your
+      boots. I told you I had one consolation still possibly left. Judge for
+      yourself what the hope of it is to me, when I own to you that I should
+      long since have put an end to my life, without it. Don&rsquo;t think I am
+      talking nonsense; I mean what I say. It is one of my misfortunes that I
+      have no religious scruples to restrain me. There was a time when I
+      believed that religion might comfort me. I once opened my heart to a
+      clergyman&mdash;a worthy person, who did his best to help me. All useless!
+      My heart was too hard, I suppose. It doesn&rsquo;t matter&mdash;except to give
+      you one more proof that I am thoroughly in earnest. Patience! patience! I
+      am coming to the point. I asked you some odd questions, on the day when
+      you first dined here? You have forgotten all about them, of course?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I remember them perfectly well,&rdquo; Amelius answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You remember them? That looks as if you had thought about them
+      afterwards. Come! tell me plainly what you did think?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius told her plainly. She became more and more interested, more and
+      more excited, as he went on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quite right!&rdquo; she exclaimed, starting to her feet and walking swiftly
+      backwards and forwards in the room. &ldquo;There <i>is</i> a lost girl whom I
+      want to find; and she is between sixteen and seventeen years old, as you
+      thought. Mind! I have no reason&mdash;not the shadow of a reason&mdash;for
+      believing that she is still a living creature. I have only my own stupid
+      obstinate conviction; rooted here,&rdquo; she pressed both hands fiercely on her
+      heart, &ldquo;so that nothing can tear it out of me! I have lived in that belief&mdash;Oh,
+      don&rsquo;t ask me how long! it is so far, so miserably far, to look back!&rdquo; She
+      stopped in the middle of the room. Her breath came and went in quick heavy
+      gasps; the first tears that had softened the hard wretchedness in her eyes
+      rose in them now, and transfigured them with the divine beauty of maternal
+      love. &ldquo;I won&rsquo;t distress you,&rdquo; she said, stamping on the floor, as she
+      struggled with the hysterical passion that was raging in her. &ldquo;Give me a
+      minute, and I&rsquo;ll force it down again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She dropped into a chair, threw her arms heavily on the table, and laid
+      her head on them. Amelius thought of the child&rsquo;s frock and cap hidden in
+      the cabinet. All that was manly and noble in his nature felt for the
+      unhappy woman, whose secret was dimly revealed to him now. The little
+      selfish sense of annoyance at the awkward situation in which she had
+      placed him, vanished to return no more. He approached her, and put his
+      hand gently on her shoulder. &ldquo;I am truly sorry for you,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Tell me
+      how I can help you, and I will do it with all my heart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you really mean that?&rdquo; She roughly dashed the tears from her eyes, and
+      rose as she put the question. Holding him with one hand, she parted the
+      hair back from his forehead with the other. &ldquo;I must see your whole face,&rdquo;
+       she said&mdash;&ldquo;your face will tell me. Yes: you do mean it. The world
+      hasn&rsquo;t spoilt you, yet. Do you believe in dreams?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius looked at her, startled by the sudden transition. She deliberately
+      repeated her question.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ask you seriously,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;do you believe in dreams?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius answered seriously, on his side, &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t honestly say that I do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; she exclaimed, &ldquo;like me. I don&rsquo;t believe in dreams, either&mdash;I
+      wish I did! But it&rsquo;s not in me to believe in superstitions; I&rsquo;m too hard&mdash;and
+      I&rsquo;m sorry for it. I have seen people who were comforted by their
+      superstitions; happy people, possessed of faith. Don&rsquo;t you even believe
+      that dreams are sometimes fulfilled by chance?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nobody can deny that,&rdquo; Amelius replied; &ldquo;the instances of it are too
+      many. But for one dream fulfilled by a coincidence, there are&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A hundred at least that are <i>not</i> fulfilled,&rdquo; Mrs. Farnaby
+      interposed. &ldquo;Very well. I calculate on that. See how little hope can live
+      on! There is just the barest possibility that what I dreamed of you the
+      other night may come to pass. It&rsquo;s a poor chance; but it has encouraged me
+      to take you into my confidence, and ask you to help me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This strange confession&mdash;this sad revelation of despair still
+      unconsciously deceiving itself under the disguise of hope&mdash;only
+      strengthened the compassionate sympathy which Amelius already felt for
+      her. &ldquo;What did you dream about me?&rdquo; he asked gently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s nothing to tell,&rdquo; she replied. &ldquo;I was in a room that was quite
+      strange to me; and the door opened, and you came in leading a young girl
+      by the hand. You said, &lsquo;Be happy at last; here she is.&rsquo; My heart knew her
+      instantly, though my eyes had never seen her since the first days of her
+      life. And I woke myself, crying for joy. Wait! it&rsquo;s not all told yet. I
+      went to sleep again, and dreamed it again, and woke, and lay awake for
+      awhile, and slept once more, and dreamed it for the third time. Ah, if I
+      could only feel some people&rsquo;s confidence in three times! No; it produced
+      an impression on me&mdash;and that was all. I got as far as thinking to
+      myself, there is just a chance; I haven&rsquo;t a creature in the world to help
+      me; I may as well speak to him. O, you needn&rsquo;t remind me that there is a
+      rational explanation of my dream. I have read it all up, in the
+      Encyclopaedia in the library. One of the ideas of wise men is that we
+      think of something, consciously or unconsciously, in the daytime, and then
+      reproduce it in a dream. That&rsquo;s my case, I daresay. When you were first
+      introduced to me, and when I heard where you had been brought up, I
+      thought directly that <i>she</i> might have been one among the many
+      forlorn creatures who had drifted to your Community, and that I might find
+      her through you. Say that thought went to my bed with me&mdash;and we have
+      the explanation of my dream. Never mind! There is my one poor chance in a
+      hundred still left. You will remember me, Amelius, if you <i>should</i>
+      meet with her, won&rsquo;t you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The implied confession of her own intractable character, without religious
+      faith to ennoble it, without even imagination to refine it&mdash;the
+      unconscious disclosure of the one tender and loving instinct in her nature
+      still piteously struggling for existence, with no sympathy to sustain it,
+      with no light to guide it&mdash;would have touched the heart of any man
+      not incurably depraved. Amelius spoke with the fervour of his young
+      enthusiasm. &ldquo;I would go to the uttermost ends of the earth, if I thought I
+      could do you any good. But, oh, it sounds so hopeless!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shook her head, and smiled faintly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t say that! You are free, you have money, you will travel about in
+      the world and amuse yourself. In a week you will see more than
+      stay-at-home people see in a year. How do we know what the future has in
+      store for us? I have my own idea. She may be lost in the labyrinth of
+      London, or she may be hundreds of thousands of miles away. Amuse yourself,
+      Amelius&mdash;amuse yourself. Tomorrow or ten years hence, you might meet
+      with her!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In sheer mercy to the poor creature, Amelius refused to encourage her
+      delusion. &ldquo;Even supposing such a thing could happen,&rdquo; he objected, &ldquo;how am
+      I to know the lost girl? You can&rsquo;t describe her to me; you have not seen
+      her since she was a child. Do you know anything of what happened at the
+      time&mdash;I mean at the time when she was lost?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know nothing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Absolutely nothing?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Absolutely nothing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you never felt a suspicion of how it happened?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her face changed: she frowned as she looked at him. &ldquo;Not till weeks and
+      months had passed,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;not till it was too late. I was ill at the
+      time. When my mind got clear again, I began to suspect one particular
+      person&mdash;little by little, you know; noticing trifles, and thinking
+      about them afterwards.&rdquo; She stopped, evidently restraining herself on the
+      point of saying more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius tried to lead her on. &ldquo;Did you suspect the person&mdash;?&rdquo; he
+      began.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suspected him of casting the child helpless on the world!&rdquo; Mrs. Farnaby
+      interposed, with a sudden burst of fury. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t ask me any more about it,
+      or I shall break out and shock you!&rdquo; She clenched her fists as she said
+      the words. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s well for that man,&rdquo; she muttered between her teeth, &ldquo;that
+      I have never got beyond suspecting, and never found out the truth! Why did
+      you turn my mind that way? You shouldn&rsquo;t have done it. Help me back again
+      to what we were saying a minute ago. You made some objection; you said&mdash;?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I said,&rdquo; Amelius reminded her, &ldquo;that, even if I did meet with the missing
+      girl, I couldn&rsquo;t possibly know it. And I must say more than that&mdash;I
+      don&rsquo;t see how you yourself could be sure of recognizing her, if she stood
+      before you at this moment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He spoke very gently, fearing to irritate her. She showed no sign of
+      irritation&mdash;she looked at him, and listened to him, attentively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you setting a trap for me?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;No!&rdquo; she cried, before
+      Amelius could answer, &ldquo;I am not mean enough to distrust you&mdash;I forgot
+      myself. You have innocently said something that rankles in my mind. I
+      can&rsquo;t leave it where you have left it; I don&rsquo;t like to be told that I
+      shouldn&rsquo;t recognize her. Give me time to think. I must clear this up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She consulted her own thoughts, keeping her eyes fixed on Amelius.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am going to speak plainly,&rdquo; she announced, with a sudden appearance of
+      resolution. &ldquo;Listen to this. When I banged to the door of that big
+      cupboard of mine, it was because I didn&rsquo;t want you to see something on the
+      shelves. Did you see anything in spite of me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The question was not an easy one to answer. Amelius hesitated. Mrs.
+      Farnaby insisted on a reply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you see anything?&rdquo; she reiterated
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius owned that he had seen something.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She turned away from him, and looked into the fire. Her firm full tones
+      sank so low, when she spoke next, that he could barely hear them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was it something belonging to a child?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was it a baby&rsquo;s frock and cap? Answer me. We have gone too far to go
+      back. I don&rsquo;t want apologies or explanations&mdash;I want, Yes or No.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was an interval of silence. She never moved; she still looked into
+      fire&mdash;looked, as if all her past life was pictured there in the
+      burning coals.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you despise me?&rdquo; she asked at last, very quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As God hears me, I am only sorry for you!&rdquo; Amelius answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Another woman would have melted into tears. This woman still looked into
+      the fire&mdash;and that was all. &ldquo;What a good fellow!&rdquo; she said to
+      herself, &ldquo;what a good fellow he is!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was another pause. She turned towards him again as abruptly as she
+      had turned away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I had hoped to spare you, and to spare myself,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;If the
+      miserable truth has come out, it is through no curiosity of yours, and
+      (God knows!) against every wish of mine. I don&rsquo;t know if you really felt
+      like a friend towards me before&mdash;you must be my friend now. Don&rsquo;t
+      speak! I know I can trust you. One last word, Amelius, about my lost
+      child. You doubt whether I should recognize her, if she stood before me
+      now. That might be quite true, if I had only my own poor hopes and
+      anxieties to guide me. But I have something else to guide me&mdash;and,
+      after what has passed between us, you may as well know what it is: it
+      might even, by accident, guide you. Don&rsquo;t alarm yourself; it&rsquo;s nothing
+      distressing this time. How can I explain it?&rdquo; she went on; pausing, and
+      speaking in some perplexity to herself. &ldquo;It would be easier to show it&mdash;and
+      why not?&rdquo; She addressed herself to Amelius once more. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m a strange
+      creature,&rdquo; she resumed. &ldquo;First, I worry you about my own affairs&mdash;then
+      I puzzle you&mdash;then I make you sorry for me&mdash;and now (would you
+      think it?) I am going to amuse you! Amelius, are you an admirer of pretty
+      feet?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius had heard of men (in books) who had found reason to doubt whether
+      their own ears were not deceiving them. For the first time, he began to
+      understand those men, and to sympathize with them. He admitted, in a
+      certain bewildered way, that he was an admirer of pretty feet&mdash;and
+      waited for what was to come next.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When a woman has a pretty hand,&rdquo; Mrs. Farnaby proceeded; &ldquo;she is ready
+      enough to show it. When she goes out to a ball, she favours you with a
+      view of her bosom, and a part of her back. Now tell me! If there is no
+      impropriety in a naked bosom&mdash;where is the impropriety in a naked
+      foot?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius agreed, like a man in a dream.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where, indeed!&rdquo; he remarked&mdash;and waited again for what was to come
+      next.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look out of the window,&rdquo; said Mrs. Farnaby.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius obeyed. The window had been opened for a few inches at the top, no
+      doubt to ventilate the room. The dull view of the courtyard was varied by
+      the stables at the farther end, and by the kitchen skylight rising in the
+      middle of the open space. As Amelius looked out, he observed that some
+      person at that moment in the kitchen required apparently a large supply of
+      fresh air. The swinging window, on the side of the skylight which was
+      nearest to him, was invisibly and noiselessly pulled open from below; the
+      similar window, on the other side, being already wide open also. Judging
+      by appearance, the inhabitants of the kitchen possessed a merit which is
+      exceedingly rare among domestic servants&mdash;they understood the laws of
+      ventilation, and appreciated the blessing of fresh air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That will do,&rdquo; said Mrs. Farnaby. &ldquo;You can turn round now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius turned. Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s boots and stockings were on the hearthrug,
+      and one of Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s feet was placed, ready for inspection, on the
+      chair which he had just left. &ldquo;Look at my right foot first,&rdquo; she said,
+      speaking gravely and composedly in her ordinary tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was well worth looking at&mdash;a foot equally beautiful in form and in
+      colour: the instep arched and high, the ankle at once delicate and strong,
+      the toes tinged with rose-colour at the tips. In brief, it was a foot to
+      be photographed, to be cast in plaster, to be fondled and kissed. Amelius
+      attempted to express his admiration, but was not allowed to get beyond the
+      first two or three words. &ldquo;No,&rdquo; Mrs. Farnaby explained, &ldquo;this is not
+      vanity&mdash;simply information. You have seen my right foot; and you have
+      noticed that there is nothing the matter with it. Very well. Now look at
+      my left foot.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She put her left foot up on the chair. &ldquo;Look between the third toe and the
+      fourth,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Following his instructions, Amelius discovered that the beauty of the foot
+      was spoilt, in this case, by a singular defect. The two toes were bound
+      together by a flexible web, or membrane, which held them to each other as
+      high as the insertion of the nail on either side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you wonder,&rdquo; Mrs. Farnaby asked, &ldquo;why I show you the fault in my foot?
+      Amelius! my poor darling was born with my deformity&mdash;and I want you
+      to know exactly what it is, because neither you nor I can say what reason
+      for remembering it there may not be in the future.&rdquo; She stopped, as if to
+      give him an opportunity of speaking. A man shallow and flippant by nature
+      might have seen the disclosure in a grotesque aspect. Amelius was sad and
+      silent. &ldquo;I like you better and better,&rdquo; she went on. &ldquo;You are not like the
+      common run of men. Nine out of ten of them would have turned what I have
+      just told you into a joke&mdash;nine out of ten would have said, &lsquo;Am I to
+      ask every girl I meet to show me her left foot?&rsquo; You are above that; you
+      understand me. Have I no means of recognizing my own child, now?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She smiled, and took her foot off the chair&mdash;then, after a moment&rsquo;s
+      thought, she pointed to it again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Keep this as strictly secret as you keep everything else,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;In
+      the past days, when I used to employ people privately to help me to find
+      her, it was my only defence against being imposed upon. Rogues and
+      vagabonds thought of other marks and signs&mdash;but not one of them could
+      guess at such a mark as that. Have you got your pocket-book, Amelius? In
+      case we are separated at some later time, I want to write the name and
+      address in it of a person whom we can trust. I persist, you see, in
+      providing for the future. There&rsquo;s the one chance in a hundred that my
+      dream may come true&mdash;and you have so many years before you, and so
+      many girls to meet with in that time!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She handed back the pocket-book, which Amelius had given to her, after
+      having inscribed a man&rsquo;s name and address on one of the blank leaves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He was my father&rsquo;s lawyer,&rdquo; she explained; &ldquo;and he and his son are both
+      men to be trusted. Suppose I am ill, for instance&mdash;no, that&rsquo;s absurd;
+      I never had a day&rsquo;s illness in my life. Suppose I am dead (killed perhaps
+      by some accident, or perhaps by my own hand), the lawyers have my written
+      instructions, in the case of my child being found. Then again&mdash;I am
+      such an unaccountable woman&mdash;I may go away somewhere, all by myself.
+      Never mind! The lawyers shall have my address, and my positive orders
+      (though they keep it a secret from all the world besides) to tell it to
+      you. I don&rsquo;t ask your pardon, Amelius, for troubling you. The chances are
+      so terribly against me; it is all but impossible that I shall ever see you&mdash;as
+      I saw you in my dream&mdash;coming into the room, leading my girl by the
+      hand. Odd, isn&rsquo;t it? This is how I veer about between hope and despair.
+      Well, it may amuse you to remember it, one of these days. Years hence,
+      when I am at rest in mother earth, and when you are a middle aged married
+      man, you may tell your wife how strangely you once became the forlorn hope
+      of the most wretched woman that ever lived&mdash;and you may say to each
+      other, as you sit by your snug fireside, &lsquo;Perhaps that poor lost daughter
+      is still living somewhere, and wondering who her mother was.&rsquo; No! I won&rsquo;t
+      let you see the tears in my eyes again&mdash;I&rsquo;ll let you go at last.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She led the way to the door&mdash;a creature to be pitied, if ever there
+      was a pitiable creature yet: a woman whose whole nature was maternal, who
+      was nothing if not a mother; and who had lived through sixteen years of
+      barren life, in the hopeless anticipation of recovering her lost child!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Goodbye, and thank you,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I want to be left by myself, my dear,
+      with that little frock and cap which you found out in spite of me. Go, and
+      tell my niece it&rsquo;s all right&mdash;and don&rsquo;t be stupid enough to fall in
+      love with a girl who has no love to give you in return.&rdquo; She pushed
+      Amelius into the hall. &ldquo;Here he is, Regina!&rdquo; she called out; &ldquo;I have done
+      with him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Before Amelius could speak, she had shut herself into her room. He
+      advanced along the hall, and met Regina at the door of the dining-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 3
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      The young lady spoke first.
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Goldenheart,&rdquo; she said, with the coldest possible politeness,
+      &ldquo;perhaps you will be good enough to explain what this means?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She turned back into the dining-room. Amelius followed her in silence.
+      &ldquo;Here I am, in another scrape with a woman!&rdquo; he thought to himself. &ldquo;Are
+      men in general as unlucky as I am, I wonder?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You needn&rsquo;t close the door,&rdquo; said Regina maliciously. &ldquo;Everybody in the
+      house is welcome to hear what <i>I</i> have to say to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius made a mistake at the outset&mdash;he tried what a little humility
+      would do to help him. There is probably no instance on record in which
+      humility on the part of a man has ever really found its way to the
+      indulgence of an irritated woman. The best and the worst of them alike
+      have at least one virtue in common&mdash;they secretly despise a man who
+      is not bold enough to defend himself when they are angry with him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope I have not offended you?&rdquo; Amelius ventured to say.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She tossed her head contemptuously. &ldquo;Oh dear, no! I am not offended. Only
+      a little surprised at your being so very ready to oblige my aunt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In the short experience of her which had fallen to the lot of Amelius, she
+      had never looked so charmingly as she looked now. The nervous irritability
+      under which she was suffering brightened her face with the animation which
+      was wanting in it at ordinary times. Her soft brown eyes sparkled; her
+      smooth dusky cheeks glowed with a warm red flush; her tall supple figure
+      asserted its full dignity, robed in a superb dress of silken purple and
+      black lace, which set off her personal attractions to the utmost
+      advantage. She not only roused the admiration of Amelius&mdash;she
+      unconsciously gave him back the self-possession which he had, for the
+      moment, completely lost. He was man enough to feel the humiliation of
+      being despised by the one woman in the world whose love he longed to win;
+      and he answered with a sudden firmness of tone and look that startled her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You had better speak more plainly still, Miss Regina,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You may
+      as well blame me at once for the misfortune of being a man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She drew back a step. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t understand you,&rdquo; she answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do I owe no forbearance to a woman who asks a favour of me?&rdquo; Amelius went
+      on. &ldquo;If a man had asked me to steal into the house on tiptoe, I should
+      have said&mdash;well! I should have said something I had better not
+      repeat. If a man had stood between me and the door when you came back, I
+      should have taken him by the collar and pulled him out of my way. Could I
+      do that, if you please, with Mrs. Farnaby?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Regina saw the weak point of this defence with a woman&rsquo;s quickness of
+      perception. &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t offer any opinion,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;especially when you
+      lay all the blame on my aunt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius opened his lips to protest&mdash;and thought better of it. He
+      wisely went straight on with what he had still to say.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you will let me finish,&rdquo; he resumed, &ldquo;you will understand me a little
+      better than that. Whatever blame there may be, Miss Regina, I am quite
+      ready to take on myself. I merely wanted to remind you that I was put in
+      an awkward position, and that I couldn&rsquo;t civilly find a way out of it. As
+      for your aunt, I will only say this: I know of hardly any sacrifice that I
+      would not submit to, if I could be of the smallest service to her. After
+      what I heard, while I was in her room&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Regina interrupted him at that point. &ldquo;I suppose it&rsquo;s a secret between
+      you?&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; it&rsquo;s a secret,&rdquo; Amelius proceeded, &ldquo;as you say. But one thing I may
+      tell you, without breaking my promise. Mrs. Farnaby has&mdash;well! has
+      filled me with kindly feeling towards her. She has a claim, poor soul, to
+      my truest sympathy. And I shall remember her claim. And I shall be
+      faithful to what I feel towards her as long as I live!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was not very elegantly expressed; but the tone was the tone of true
+      feeling in his voice trembled, his colour rose. He stood before her,
+      speaking with perfect simplicity straight from his heart&mdash;and the
+      woman&rsquo;s heart felt it instantly. This was the man whose ridicule she had
+      dreaded, if her aunt&rsquo;s rash confidence struck him in an absurd light! She
+      sat down in silence, with a grave sad face, reproaching herself for the
+      wrong which her too ready distrust had inflicted on him; longing to ask
+      his pardon, and yet hesitating to say the simple words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He approached her chair, and, placing his hand on the back of it, said
+      gently, &ldquo;do you think a little better of me now?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She had taken off her gloves: she silently folded and refolded them in her
+      lap.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your good opinion is very precious to me,&rdquo; Amelius pleaded, bending a
+      little nearer to her. &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t tell you how sorry I should be&mdash;&rdquo; He
+      stopped, and put it more strongly. &ldquo;I shall never have courage enough to
+      enter the house again, if I have made you think meanly of me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A woman who cared nothing for him would have easily answered this. The
+      calm heart of Regina began to flutter: something warned her not to trust
+      herself to speak. Little as he suspected it, Amelius had troubled the
+      tranquil temperament of this woman. He had found his way to those secret
+      reserves of tenderness&mdash;placid and deep&mdash;of which she was hardly
+      conscious herself, until his influence had enlightened her. She was afraid
+      to look up at him; her eyes would have told him the truth. She lifted her
+      long, finely shaped, dusky hand, and offered it to him as the best answer
+      that she could make.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius took it, looked at it, and ventured on his first familiarity with
+      her&mdash;he kissed it. She only said, &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t!&rdquo; very faintly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Queen would let me kiss her hand if I went to Court,&rdquo; Amelius
+      reminded her, with a pleasant inner conviction of his wonderful readiness
+      at finding an excuse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She smiled in spite of herself. &ldquo;Would the Queen let you hold it?&rdquo; she
+      asked, gently releasing her hand, and looking at him as she drew it away.
+      The peace was made without another word of explanation. Amelius took a
+      chair at her side. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m quite happy now you have forgiven me,&rdquo; he said.
+      &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t know how I admire you&mdash;and how anxious I am to please you,
+      if I only knew how!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He drew his chair a little nearer; his eyes told her plainly that his
+      language would soon become warmer still, if she gave him the smallest
+      encouragement. This was one reason for changing the subject. But there was
+      another reason, more cogent still. Her first painful sense of having
+      treated him unjustly had ceased to make itself keenly felt; the lower
+      emotions had their opportunity of asserting themselves. Curiosity,
+      irresistible curiosity, took possession of her mind, and urged her to
+      penetrate the mystery of the interview between Amelius and her aunt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you think me very indiscreet,&rdquo; she began slyly, &ldquo;if I made a little
+      confession to you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius was only too eager to hear the confession: it would pave the way
+      for something of the same sort on his part.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I understand my aunt making the heat in the concert-room a pretence for
+      taking you away with her,&rdquo; Regina proceeded; &ldquo;but what astonishes me is
+      that she should have admitted you to her confidence after so short an
+      acquaintance. You are still&mdash;what shall I say?&mdash;you are still a
+      new friend of ours.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How long will it be before I become an old friend?&rdquo; Amelius asked. &ldquo;I
+      mean,&rdquo; he added, with artful emphasis, &ldquo;an old friend of <i>yours?&rdquo;</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Confused by the question, Regina passed it over without notice. &ldquo;I am Mrs.
+      Farnaby&rsquo;s adopted daughter,&rdquo; she resumed. &ldquo;I have been with her since I
+      was a little girl&mdash;and yet she has never told me any of her secrets.
+      Pray don&rsquo;t suppose that I am tempting you to break faith with my aunt! I
+      am quite incapable of such conduct as that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius saw his way to a thoroughly commonplace compliment which possessed
+      the charm of complete novelty so far as his experience was concerned. He
+      would actually have told her that she was incapable of doing anything
+      which was not perfectly becoming to a charming person, if she had only
+      given him time! She was too eager in the pursuit of her own object to give
+      him time. &ldquo;I <i>should</i> like to know,&rdquo; she went on, &ldquo;whether my aunt
+      has been influenced in any way by a dream that she had about you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius started. &ldquo;Has she told you of her dream?&rdquo; he asked, with some
+      appearance of alarm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Regina blushed and hesitated, &ldquo;My room is next to my aunt&rsquo;s,&rdquo; she
+      explained. &ldquo;We keep the door between us open. I am often in and out when
+      she is disturbed in her sleep. She was talking in her sleep, and I heard
+      your name&mdash;nothing more. Perhaps I ought not to have mentioned it?
+      Perhaps I ought not to expect you to answer me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is no harm in my answering you,&rdquo; said Amelius. &ldquo;The dream really
+      had something to do with her trusting me. You may not think quite so
+      unfavourably of her conduct now you know that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It doesn&rsquo;t matter what I think,&rdquo; Regina replied constrainedly. &ldquo;If my
+      aunt&rsquo;s secrets have interested you&mdash;what right have I to object? I am
+      sure I shall say nothing. Though I am not in my aunt&rsquo;s confidence, nor in
+      your confidence, you will find I can keep a secret.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She folded up her gloves for the twentieth time at least, and gave Amelius
+      his opportunity of retiring by rising from her chair. He made a last
+      effort to recover the ground that he had lost, without betraying Mrs.
+      Farnaby&rsquo;s trust in him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sure you can keep a secret,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I should like to give you one
+      of my secrets to keep&mdash;only I mustn&rsquo;t take the liberty, I suppose,
+      just yet?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She new perfectly well what he wanted to say. Her heart began to quicken
+      its beat; she was at a loss how to answer. After an awkward silence, she
+      made an attempt to dismiss him. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t let me detain you,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;if
+      you have any engagement.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius silently looked round him for his hat. On a table behind him a
+      monthly magazine lay open, exhibiting one of those melancholy modern
+      &ldquo;illustrations&rdquo; which present the English art of our day in its laziest
+      and lowest state of degradation. A vacuous young giant, in flowing
+      trousers, stood in a garden, and stared at a plump young giantess with
+      enormous eyes and rotund hips, vacantly boring holes in the grass with the
+      point of her parasol. Perfectly incapable of explaining itself, this
+      imbecile production put its trust in the printer, whose charitable types
+      helped it, at the bottom of the page, with the title of &ldquo;Love at First
+      Sight.&rdquo; On those remarkable words Amelius seized, with the desperation of
+      the drowning man, catching at the proverbial straw. They offered him a
+      chance of pleading his cause, this time, with a happy indirectness of
+      allusion at which not even a young lady&rsquo;s susceptibility could take
+      offence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you believe in that?&rdquo; he said, pointing to the illustration.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Regina declined to understand him. &ldquo;In what?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In love at first sight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It would be speaking with inexcusable rudeness to say plainly that she
+      told him a lie. Let the milder form of expression be, that she modestly
+      concealed the truth. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know anything about it,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <i>&ldquo;I</i> do,&rdquo; Amelius remarked smartly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She persisted in looking at the illustration. Was there an infection of
+      imbecility in that fatal work? She was too simple to understand him, even
+      yet! &ldquo;You do&mdash;what?&rdquo; she inquired innocently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know what love at first sight is,&rdquo; Amelius burst out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Regina turned over the leaves of the magazine. &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;you have
+      read the story.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I haven&rsquo;t read the story,&rdquo; Amelius answered. &ldquo;I know what I felt myself&mdash;on
+      being introduced to a young lady.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked up at him with a sly smile. &ldquo;A young lady in America?&rdquo; she
+      asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In England, Miss Regina.&rdquo; He tried to take her hand&mdash;but she kept it
+      out of his reach. &ldquo;In London,&rdquo; he went on, drifting back into his
+      customary plainness of speech. &ldquo;In this very street,&rdquo; he resumed, seizing
+      her hand before she was aware of him. Too much bewildered to know what
+      else to do, Regina took refuge desperately in shaking hands with him.
+      &ldquo;Goodbye, Mr. Goldenheart,&rdquo; she said&mdash;and gave him his dismissal for
+      the second time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius submitted to his fate; there was something in her eyes which
+      warned him that he had ventured far enough for that day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May I call again, soon?&rdquo; he asked piteously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No!&rdquo; answered a voice at the door which they both recognized&mdash;the
+      voice of Mrs. Farnaby.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes!&rdquo; Regina whispered to him, as her aunt entered the room. Mrs.
+      Farnaby&rsquo;s interference, following on the earlier events of the day, had
+      touched the young lady&rsquo;s usually placable temper in a tender place&mdash;and
+      Amelius reaped the benefit of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Farnaby walked straight up to him, put her hand in his arm, and led
+      him out into the hall.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I had my suspicions,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;and I find they have not misled me.
+      Twice already, I have warned you to let my niece alone. For the third, and
+      last time, I tell you that she is as cold as ice. She will trifle with you
+      as long as it flatters her vanity; and she will throw you over, as she has
+      thrown other men over. Have your fling, you foolish fellow, before you
+      marry anybody. Pay no more visits to this house, unless they are visits to
+      me. I shall expect to hear from you.&rdquo; She paused, and pointed to a statue
+      which was one of the ornaments in the hall. &ldquo;Look at that bronze woman
+      with the clock in her hand. That&rsquo;s Regina. Be off with you&mdash;goodbye!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius found himself in the street. Regina was looking out at the
+      dining-room window. He kissed his hand to her: she smiled and bowed. &ldquo;Damn
+      the other men!&rdquo; Amelius said to himself. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll call on her tomorrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 4
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Returning to his hotel, he found three letters waiting for him on the
+      sitting-room table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The first letter that he opened was from his landlord, and contained his
+      bill for the past week. As he looked at the sum total, Amelius presented
+      to perfection the aspect of a serious young man. He took pen, ink, and
+      paper, and made some elaborate calculations. Money that he had too
+      generously lent, or too freely given away, appeared in his statement of
+      expenses, as well as money that he had spent on himself. The result may be
+      plainly stated in his own words: &ldquo;Goodbye to the hotel; I must go into
+      lodgings.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Having arrived at this wise decision, he opened the second letter. It
+      proved to be written by the lawyers who had already communicated with him
+      at Tadmor, on the subject of his inheritance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;DEAR SIR,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The enclosed, insufficiently addressed as you will perceive, only reached
+      us this day. We beg to remain, etc.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius opened the letter enclosed, and turned to the signature for
+      information. The name instantly took him back to the Community: the writer
+      was Mellicent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her letter began abruptly, in these terms:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you remember what I said to you when we parted at Tadmor? I said, &lsquo;Be
+      comforted, Amelius, the end is not yet.&rsquo; And I said again, &lsquo;You will come
+      back to me.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I remind you of this, my friend&mdash;directing to your lawyers, whose
+      names I remember when their letter to you was publicly read in the Common
+      Room. Once or twice a year I shall continue to remind you of those parting
+      words of mine: there will be a time perhaps when you will thank me for
+      doing so.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In the mean while, light your pipe with my letters; my letters don&rsquo;t
+      matter. If I can comfort you, and reconcile you to your life&mdash;years
+      hence, when you, too, my Amelius, may be one of the Fallen Leaves like me&mdash;then
+      I shall not have lived and suffered in vain; my last days on earth will be
+      the happiest days that I have ever seen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be pleased not to answer these lines, or any other written words of mine
+      that may follow, so long as you are prosperous and happy. With <i>that</i>
+      part of your life I have nothing to do. You will find friends wherever you
+      go&mdash;among the women especially. Your generous nature shows itself
+      frankly in your face; your manly gentleness and sweetness speak in every
+      tone of your voice; we poor women feel drawn towards you by an attraction
+      which we are not able to resist. Have you fallen in love already with some
+      beautiful English girl? Oh, be careful and prudent! Be sure, before you
+      set your heart on her, that she is worthy of you! So many women are cruel
+      and deceitful. Some of them will make you believe you have won their love,
+      when you have only flattered their vanity; and some are poor weak
+      creatures whose minds are set on their own interests, and who may let bad
+      advisers guide them, when you are not by. For your own sake, take care!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am living with my sister, at New York. The days and weeks glide by me
+      quietly; you are in my thoughts and my prayers; I have nothing to complain
+      of; I wait and hope. When the time of my banishment from the Community has
+      expired, I shall go back to Tadmor; and there you will find me, Amelius,
+      the first to welcome you when your spirits are sinking under the burden of
+      life, and your heart turns again to the friends of your early days.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Goodbye, my dear&mdash;goodbye!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius laid the letter aside, touched and saddened by the artless
+      devotion to him which it expressed. He was conscious also of a feeling of
+      uneasy surprise, when he read the lines which referred to his possible
+      entanglement with some beautiful English girl. Here, with widely different
+      motives, was Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s warning repeated, by a stranger writing from
+      another quarter of the globe! It was an odd coincidence, to say the least
+      of it. After thinking for a while, he turned abruptly to the third letter
+      that was waiting for him. He was not at ease; his mind felt the need of
+      relief.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The third letter was from Rufus Dingwell; announcing the close of his tour
+      in Ireland, and his intention of shortly joining Amelius in London. The
+      excellent American expressed, with his customary absence of reserve, his
+      fervent admiration of Irish hospitality, Irish beauty, and Irish whisky.
+      &ldquo;Green Erin wants but one thing more,&rdquo; Rufus predicted, &ldquo;to be a Paradise
+      on earth&mdash;it wants the day to come when we shall send an American
+      minister to the Irish Republic.&rdquo; Laughing over this quaint outbreak,
+      Amelius turned from the first page to the second. As his eyes fell on the
+      next paragraph, a sudden change passed over him; he let the letter drop on
+      the floor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One last word,&rdquo; the American wrote, &ldquo;about that nice long bright letter
+      of yours. I have read it with strict attention, and thought over it
+      considerably afterwards. Don&rsquo;t be riled, friend Amelius, if I tell you in
+      plain words, that your account of the Farnabys doesn&rsquo;t make me happy&mdash;quite
+      the contrary, I do assure you. My back is set up, sir, against that
+      family. You will do well to drop them; and, above all things, mind what
+      you are about with the brown miss, who has found her way to your
+      favourable opinion in such an almighty hurry. Do me a favour, my good boy.
+      Just wait till I have seen her, will you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Farnaby, Mellicent, Rufus&mdash;all three strangers to each other;
+      and all three agreed nevertheless in trying to part him from the beautiful
+      young Englishwoman! &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t care,&rdquo; Amelius thought to himself &ldquo;They may
+      say what they please&mdash;I&rsquo;ll marry Regina, if she will have me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      BOOK THE FOURTH. LOVE AND MONEY
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 1
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      In an interval of no more than three weeks what events may not present
+      themselves? what changes may not take place? Behold Amelius, on the first
+      drizzling day of November, established in respectable lodgings, at a
+      moderate weekly rent. He stands before his small fireside, and warms his
+      back with an Englishman&rsquo;s severe sense of enjoyment. The cheap
+      looking-glass on the mantelpiece reflects the head and shoulders of a new
+      Amelius. His habits are changed; his social position is in course of
+      development. Already, he is a strict economist. Before long, he expects to
+      become a married man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It is good to be economical: it is, perhaps, better still to be the
+      accepted husband of a handsome young woman. But, for all that, a man in a
+      state of moral improvement, with prospects which his less favoured fellow
+      creatures may reasonably envy, is still a man subject to the mischievous
+      mercy of circumstances, and capable of feeling it keenly. The face of the
+      new Amelius wore an expression of anxiety, and, more remarkable yet, the
+      temper of the new Amelius was out of order.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For the first time in his life he found himself considering trivial
+      questions of sixpences, and small favours of discount for cash payments&mdash;an
+      irritating state of things in itself. There were more serious anxieties,
+      however, to trouble him than these. He had no reason to complain of the
+      beloved object herself. Not twelve hours since he had said to Regina, with
+      a voice that faltered, and a heart that beat wildly, &ldquo;Are you fond enough
+      of me to let me marry you?&rdquo; And she had answered placidly, with a heart
+      that would have satisfied the most exacting stethoscope in the medical
+      profession, &ldquo;Yes, if you like.&rdquo; There was a moment of rapture, when she
+      submitted for the first time to be kissed, and when she consented, on
+      being gently reminded that it was expected of her, to return the kiss&mdash;once,
+      and no more. But there was also an attendant train of serious
+      considerations which followed on the heels of Amelius when the kissing was
+      over, and when he had said goodbye for the day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had two women for enemies, both resolutely against him in the matter of
+      his marriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Regina&rsquo;s correspondent and bosom friend, Cecilia, who had begun by
+      disliking him, without knowing why, persisted in maintaining her
+      unfavourable opinion of the new friend of the Farnabys. She was a young
+      married woman; and she had an influence over Regina which promised, when
+      the fit opportunity came, to make itself felt. The second, and by far the
+      more powerful hostile influence, was the influence of Mrs. Farnaby.
+      Nothing could exceed the half sisterly, half motherly, goodwill with which
+      she received Amelius on those rare occasions when they happened to meet,
+      unembarrassed by the presence of a third person in the room. Without
+      actually reverting to what had passed between them during their memorable
+      interview, Mrs. Farnaby asked questions, plainly showing that the forlorn
+      hope which she associated with Amelius was a hope still firmly rooted in
+      her mind. &ldquo;Have you been much about London lately?&rdquo; &ldquo;Have you met with any
+      girls who have taken your fancy?&rdquo; &ldquo;Are you getting tired of staying in the
+      same place, and are you going to travel soon?&rdquo; Inquiries such as these she
+      was, sooner or later, sure to make when they were alone. But if Regina
+      happened to enter the room, or if Amelius contrived to find his way to her
+      in some other part of the house, Mrs. Farnaby deliberately shortened the
+      interview and silenced the lovers&mdash;still as resolute as ever to keep
+      Amelius exposed to the adventurous freedom of a bachelor&rsquo;s life. For the
+      last week, his only opportunities of speaking to Regina had been obtained
+      for him secretly by the well-rewarded devotion of her maid. And he had now
+      the prospect before him of asking Mr. Farnaby for the hand of his adopted
+      daughter, with the certainty of the influence of two women being used
+      against him&mdash;even if he succeeded in obtaining a favourable reception
+      for his proposal from the master of the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Under such circumstances as these&mdash;alone, on a rainy November day, in
+      a lodging on the dreary eastward side of the Tottenham Court Road&mdash;even
+      Amelius bore the aspect of a melancholy man. He was angry with his cigar
+      because it refused to light freely. He was angry with the poor deaf
+      servant-of-all-work, who entered the room, after one thumping knock at the
+      door, and made, in muffled tones, the barbarous announcement, &ldquo;Here&rsquo;s
+      somebody a-wantin&rsquo; to see yer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who the devil is Somebody?&rdquo; Amelius shouted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Somebody is a citizen of the United States,&rdquo; answered Rufus, quietly
+      entering the room. &ldquo;And he&rsquo;s sorry to find Claude A. Goldenheart&rsquo;s
+      temperature at boiling-point already!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He had not altered in the slightest degree since he had left the steamship
+      at Queenstown. Irish hospitality had not fattened him; the change from sea
+      to land had not suggested to him the slightest alteration in his dress. He
+      still wore the huge felt hat in which he had first presented himself to
+      notice on the deck of the vessel. The maid-of-all-work raised her eyes to
+      the face of the long lean stranger, overshadowed by the broadbrimmed hat,
+      in reverent amazement. &ldquo;My love to you, miss,&rdquo; said Rufus, with his
+      customary grave cordiality; <i>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll</i> shut the door.&rdquo; Having dismissed
+      the maid with that gentle hint, he shook hands heartily with Amelius.
+      &ldquo;Well, I call this a juicy morning,&rdquo; he said, just as if they had met at
+      the cabin breakfast-table as usual.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For the moment, at least, Amelius brightened at the sight of his
+      fellow-traveller. &ldquo;I am really glad to see you,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s lonely in
+      these new quarters, before one gets used to them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus relieved himself of his hat and great coat, and silently looked
+      about the room. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m big in the bones,&rdquo; he remarked, surveying the rickety
+      lodging-house furniture with some suspicion; &ldquo;and I&rsquo;m a trifle heavier
+      than I look. I shan&rsquo;t break one of these chairs if I sit down on it, shall
+      I?&rdquo; Passing round the table (littered with books and letters) in search of
+      the nearest chair, he accidentally brushed against a sheet of paper with
+      writing on it. &ldquo;Memorandum of friends in London, to be informed of my
+      change of address,&rdquo; he read, looking at the paper, as he picked it up,
+      with the friendly freedom that characterized him. &ldquo;You have made pretty
+      good use of your time, my son, since I took my leave of you in Queenstown
+      harbour. I call this a reasonable long list of acquaintances made by a
+      young stranger in London.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I met with an old friend of my family at the hotel,&rdquo; Amelius explained.
+      &ldquo;He was a great loss to my poor father, when he got an appointment in
+      India; and, now he has returned, he has been equally kind to me. I am
+      indebted to his introduction for most of the names on that list.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes?&rdquo; said Rufus, in the interrogative tone of a man who was waiting to
+      hear more. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m listening, though I may not look like it. Git along.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius looked at his visitor, wondering in what precise direction he was
+      to &ldquo;git along.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;m no friend to partial information,&rdquo; Rufus proceeded; &ldquo;I like to round
+      it off complete, as it were, in my own mind. There are names on this list
+      that you haven&rsquo;t accounted for yet. Who provided you, sir, with the
+      balance of your new friends?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius answered, not very willingly, &ldquo;I met them at Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus looked up from the list with the air of a man surprised by
+      disagreeable information, and unwilling to receive it too readily. &ldquo;How?&rdquo;
+       he exclaimed, using the old English equivalent (often heard in America)
+      for the modern &ldquo;What?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I met them at Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s,&rdquo; Amelius repeated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you happen to receive a letter of my writing, dated Dublin?&rdquo; Rufus
+      asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you set any particular value on my advice?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you cultivate social relations with Farnaby and family,
+      notwithstanding?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have motives for being friendly with them, which&mdash;which I haven&rsquo;t
+      had time to explain to you yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus stretched out his long legs on the floor, and fixed his shrewd grave
+      eyes steadily on Amelius.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My friend,&rdquo; he said, quietly, &ldquo;in respect of personal appearance and
+      pleasing elasticity of spirits, I find you altered for the worse, I do. It
+      may be Liver, or it may be Love. I reckon, now I think of it, you&rsquo;re too
+      young yet for Liver. It&rsquo;s the brown miss&mdash;that&rsquo;s what &lsquo;tis. I hate
+      that girl, sir, by instinct.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A nice way of talking of a young lady you never saw!&rdquo; Amelius broke out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus smiled grimly. &ldquo;Go ahead!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;If you can get vent in
+      quarrelling with me, go ahead, my son.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked round the room again, with his hands in his pockets, whistling.
+      Descending to the table in due course of time, his quick eye detected a
+      photograph placed on the open writing desk which Amelius had been using
+      earlier in the day. Before it was possible to stop him, the photograph was
+      in his hand. &ldquo;I believe I&rsquo;ve got her likeness,&rdquo; he announced. &ldquo;I do assure
+      you I take pleasure in making her acquaintance in this sort of way. Well,
+      now, I declare she&rsquo;s a columnar creature! Yes, sir; I do justice to your
+      native produce&mdash;your fine fleshy beef-fed English girl. But I tell
+      you this: after a child or two, that sort runs to fat, and you find you
+      have married more of her than you bargained for. To what lengths may you
+      have proceeded, Amelius, with this splendid and spanking person?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius was just on the verge of taking offence. &ldquo;Speak of her
+      respectfully,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;if you expect me to answer you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus stared in astonishment. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m paying her all manner of compliments,&rdquo;
+       he protested, &ldquo;and you&rsquo;re not satisfied yet. My friend, I still find
+      something about you, on this occasion, which reminds me of meat cut
+      against the grain. You&rsquo;re almost nasty&mdash;you are! The air of London, I
+      reckon, isn&rsquo;t at all the thing for you. Well, it don&rsquo;t matter to me; I
+      like you. Afloat or ashore, I like you. Do you want to know what I should
+      do, in your place, if I found myself steering a little too nigh to the
+      brown miss? I should&mdash;well, to put it in one word, I should scatter.
+      Where&rsquo;s the harm, I&rsquo;ll ask you, if you try another girl or two, before you
+      make your mind up. I shall be proud to introduce you to our slim and snaky
+      sort at Coolspring. Yes. I mean what I say; and I&rsquo;ll go back with you
+      across the pond.&rdquo; Referring in this disrespectful manner to the Atlantic
+      Ocean, Rufus offered his hand in token of unalterable devotion and
+      goodwill.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Who could resist such a man as this? Amelius, always in extremes, wrung
+      his hand, with an impetuous sense of shame. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve been sulky,&rdquo; he said,
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve been rude, I ought to be ashamed of myself&mdash;and I am. There&rsquo;s
+      only one excuse for me, Rufus. I love her with all my heart and soul; and
+      I&rsquo;m engaged to be married to her. And yet, if you understand my way of
+      putting it, I&rsquo;m&mdash;in short, I&rsquo;m in a mess.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With this characteristic preface, he described his position as exactly as
+      he could; having due regard to the necessary reserve on the subject of
+      Mrs. Farnaby. Rufus listened, with the closest attention, from beginning
+      to end; making no attempt to disguise the unfavourable impression which
+      the announcement of the marriage-engagement had made on him. When he spoke
+      next, instead of looking at Amelius as usual, he held his head down, and
+      looked gloomily at his boots.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you&rsquo;ve gone ahead this time, and that&rsquo;s a fact. She
+      didn&rsquo;t raise any difficulties that a man could ride off on&mdash;did she?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She was all that was sweet and kind!&rdquo; Amelius answered, with enthusiasm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She was all that was sweet and kind,&rdquo; Rufus absently repeated, still
+      intent on the solid spectacle of his own boots. &ldquo;And how about uncle
+      Farnaby? Perhaps he&rsquo;s sweet and kind likewise, or perhaps he cuts up
+      rough? Possible&mdash;is it not, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know; I haven&rsquo;t spoken to him yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus suddenly looked up. A faint gleam of hope irradiated his long lank
+      face. &ldquo;Mercy be praised! there&rsquo;s a last chance for you,&rdquo; he remarked.
+      &ldquo;Uncle Farnaby may say No.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It doesn&rsquo;t matter what he says,&rdquo; Amelius rejoined. &ldquo;She&rsquo;s old enough to
+      choose for herself, he can&rsquo;t stop the marriage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus lifted one wiry yellow forefinger, in a state of perpendicular
+      protest. &ldquo;He cannot stop the marriage,&rdquo; the sagacious New Englander
+      admitted; &ldquo;but he can stop the money, my son. Find out how you stand with
+      him before another day is over your head.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t go to him this evening.&rdquo; said Amelius; &ldquo;he dines out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where is he now?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At his place of business.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fix him at his place of business. Right away!&rdquo; cried Rufus, springing
+      with sudden energy to his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think he would like it,&rdquo; Amelius objected. &ldquo;He&rsquo;s not a very
+      pleasant fellow, anywhere; but he&rsquo;s particularly disagreeable at his place
+      of business.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus walked to the window, and looked out. The objections to Mr. Farnaby
+      appeared to fail, so far, in interesting him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To put it plainly,&rdquo; Amelius went on, &ldquo;there&rsquo;s something about him that I
+      can&rsquo;t endure. And&mdash;though he&rsquo;s very civil to me, in his way&mdash;I
+      don&rsquo;t think he has ever got over the discovery that I am a Christian
+      Socialist.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus abruptly turned round from the window, and became attentive again.
+      &ldquo;So you told him that&mdash;did you?&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course!&rdquo; Amelius rejoined, sharply. &ldquo;Do you suppose I am ashamed of
+      the principles in which I have been brought up?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t care, I reckon, if all the world knows your principles,
+      persisted Rufus, deliberately leading him on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Care?&rdquo; Amelius reiterated. &ldquo;I only wish I had all the world to listen to
+      me. They should hear of my principles, with no bated breath, I promise
+      you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a pause. Rufus turned back again to the window. &ldquo;When Farnaby&rsquo;s
+      at home, where does he live?&rdquo; he asked suddenly&mdash;still keeping his
+      face towards the street.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius mentioned the address. &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t mean that you are going to call
+      there?&rdquo; he inquired, with some anxiety.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I reckoned I might catch him before dinner-time. You seem to be
+      sort of feared to speak to him yourself. I&rsquo;m your friend, Amelius&mdash;and
+      I&rsquo;ll speak for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The bare idea of the interview struck Amelius with terror. &ldquo;No, no!&rdquo; he
+      said. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m much obliged to you, Rufus. But in a matter of this sort, I
+      shouldn&rsquo;t like to transfer the responsibility to my friend. I&rsquo;ll speak to
+      Mr. Farnaby in a day or two.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus was evidently not satisfied with this. &ldquo;I do suppose, now,&rdquo; he
+      suggested, &ldquo;you&rsquo;re not the only man moving in this metropolis who fancies
+      Miss Regina. Query, my son: if you put off Farnaby much longer&mdash;&rdquo; He
+      paused and looked at Amelius. &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I reckon I needn&rsquo;t enlarge
+      further: there <i>is</i> another man. Well, it&rsquo;s the same in my country; I
+      don&rsquo;t know what he does, with You: he always turns up, with Us, just at
+      the time when you least want to see him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There <i>was</i> another man&mdash;an older and a richer man than Amelius;
+      equally assiduous in his attentions to the aunt and to the niece;
+      submissively polite to his favoured young rival. He was the sort of
+      person, in age and in temperament, who would be perfectly capable of
+      advancing his own interests by means of the hostile influence of Mrs.
+      Farnaby. Who could say what the result might be if, by some unlucky
+      accident, he made the attempt before Amelius had secured for himself the
+      support of the master of the house? In his present condition of nervous
+      irritability, he was ready to believe in any coincidence of the disastrous
+      sort. The wealthy rival was a man of business, a near city neighbour of
+      Mr. Farnaby. They might be together at that moment; and Regina&rsquo;s fidelity
+      to her lover might be put to a harder test than she was prepared to
+      endure. Amelius remembered the gentle conciliatory smile (too gentle by
+      half) with which his placid mistress had received his first kisses&mdash;and,
+      without stopping to weigh conclusions, snatched up his hat. &ldquo;Wait here for
+      me, Rufus, like a good fellow. I&rsquo;m off to the stationer&rsquo;s shop.&rdquo; With
+      those parting words, he hurried out of the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Left by himself, Rufus began to rummage the pockets of his frockcoat&mdash;a
+      long, loose, and dingy garment which had become friendly and comfortable
+      to him by dint of ancient use. Producing a handful of correspondence, he
+      selected the largest envelope of all; shook out on the table several
+      smaller letters enclosed; picked one out of the number; and read the
+      concluding paragraph only, with the closest attention.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I enclose letters of introduction to the secretaries of literary
+      institutions in London, and in some of the principal cities of England. If
+      you feel disposed to lecture yourself, or if you can persuade friends and
+      citizens known to you to do so, I believe it may be in your power to
+      advance in this way the interests of our Bureau. Please take notice that
+      the more advanced institutions, which are ready to countenance and welcome
+      free thought in religion, politics, and morals, are marked on the
+      envelopes with a cross in red ink. The envelopes without a mark are
+      addressed to platforms on which the customary British prejudices remain
+      rampant, and in which the charge for places reaches a higher figure than
+      can be as yet obtained in the sanctuaries of free thought.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus laid down the letter, and, choosing one among the envelopes marked
+      in red ink, looked at the introduction enclosed. &ldquo;If the right sort of
+      invitation reached Amelius from this institution,&rdquo; he thought, &ldquo;the boy
+      would lecture on Christian Socialism with all his heart and soul. I wonder
+      what the brown miss and her uncle would say to that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He smiled to himself, and put the letter back in the envelope, and
+      considered the subject for a while. Below the odd rough surface, he was a
+      man in ten thousand; no more single-hearted and more affectionate creature
+      ever breathed the breath of life. He had not been understood in his own
+      little circle; there had been a want of sympathy with him, and even a want
+      of knowledge of him, at home. Amelius, popular with everybody, had touched
+      the great heart of this man. He perceived the peril that lay hidden under
+      the strange and lonely position of his fellow-voyager&mdash;so innocent in
+      the ways of the world, so young and so easily impressed His fondness for
+      Amelius, it is hardly too much to say, was the fondness of a father for a
+      son. With a sigh, he shook his head, and gathered up his letters, and put
+      them back in his pockets. &ldquo;No, not yet,&rdquo; he decided. &ldquo;The poor boy really
+      loves her; and the girl may be good enough to make the happiness of his
+      life.&rdquo; He got up and walked about the room. Suddenly he stopped, struck by
+      a new idea. &ldquo;Why shouldn&rsquo;t I judge for myself?&rdquo; he thought. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve got the
+      address&mdash;I reckon I&rsquo;ll look in on the Farnabys, in a friendly way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He sat down at the desk, and wrote a line, in the event of Amelius being
+      the first to return to the lodgings:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      DEAR BOY,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t find her photograph tells me quite so much as I want to know. I
+      have a mind to see the living original. Being your friend, you know, it&rsquo;s
+      only civil to pay my respects to the family. Expect my unbiased opinion
+      when I come back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yours,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;RUFUS.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Having enclosed and addressed these lines, he took up his greatcoat&mdash;and
+      checked himself in the act of putting it on. The brown miss was a British
+      miss. A strange New Englander had better be careful of his personal
+      appearance, before he ventured into her presence. Urged by this cautious
+      motive, he approached the looking-glass, and surveyed himself critically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I doubt I might be the better,&rdquo; it occurred to him, &ldquo;if I brushed my
+      hair, and smelt a little of perfume. Yes. I&rsquo;ll make a toilet. Where&rsquo;s the
+      boy&rsquo;s bedroom, I wonder?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He observed a second door in the sitting-room, and opened it at hazard.
+      Fortune had befriended him, so far: he found himself in his young friend&rsquo;s
+      bedchamber.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The toilet of Amelius, simple as it was, had its mysteries for Rufus. He
+      was at a loss among the perfumes. They were all contained in a modest
+      little dressing case, without labels of any sort to describe the contents
+      of the pots and bottles. He examined them one after another, and stopped
+      at some recently invented French shaving-cream. &ldquo;It smells lovely,&rdquo; he
+      said, assuming it to be some rare pomatum. &ldquo;Just what I want, it seems,
+      for my head.&rdquo; He rubbed the shaving cream into his bristly iron-gray hair,
+      until his arms ached. When he had next sprinkled his handkerchief and
+      himself profusely, first with rose water, and then (to make quite sure)
+      with eau-de-cologne used as a climax, he felt that he was in a position to
+      appeal agreeably to the senses of the softer sex. In five minutes more, he
+      was on his way to Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s private residence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 2
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The rain that had begun with the morning still poured on steadily in the
+      afternoon. After one look out of the window, Regina decided on passing the
+      rest of the day luxuriously, in the company of a novel, by her own
+      fireside. With her feet on the tender, and her head on the soft cushion of
+      her favourite easy-chair, she opened the book. Having read the first
+      chapter and part of the second, she was just lazily turning over the
+      leaves in search of a love scene, when her languid interest in the novel
+      was suddenly diverted to an incident in real life. The sitting-room door
+      was gently opened, and her maid appeared in a state of modest confusion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you please, miss, here&rsquo;s a strange gentleman who comes from Mr.
+      Goldenheart. He wishes particularly to say&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She paused, and looked behind her. A faint and curious smell of mingled
+      soap and scent entered the room, followed closely by a tall, calm,
+      shabbily-dressed man, who laid a wiry yellow hand on the maid&rsquo;s shoulder,
+      and stopped her effectually before she could say a word more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you think of troubling yourself to git through with it, my dear;
+      I&rsquo;m here, and I&rsquo;ll finish for you.&rdquo; Addressing the maid in these
+      encouraging terms, the stranger advanced to Regina, and actually attempted
+      to shake hands with her! Regina rose&mdash;and looked at him. It was a
+      look that ought to have daunted the boldest man living; it produced no
+      sort of effect on <i>this</i> man. He still held out his hand; his lean
+      face broadened with a pleasant smile. &ldquo;My name is Rufus Dingwell,&rdquo; he
+      said. &ldquo;I come from Coolspring, Mass.; and Amelius is my introduction to
+      yourself and family.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Regina silently acknowledged this information by a frigid bow, and
+      addressed herself to the maid, waiting at the door: &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t leave the room,
+      Phoebe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus, inwardly wondering what Phoebe was wanted for, proceeded to express
+      the cordial sentiments proper to the occasion. &ldquo;I have heard about you,
+      miss; and I take pleasure in making your acquaintance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The unwritten laws of politeness obliged Regina to say something. &ldquo;I have
+      not heard Mr. Goldenheart mention your name,&rdquo; she remarked. &ldquo;Are you an
+      old friend of his?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus explained with genial alacrity. &ldquo;We crossed the Pond together, miss.
+      I like the boy; he&rsquo;s bright and spry; he refreshes me&mdash;he does. We go
+      ahead with most things in my country; and friendship&rsquo;s one of them. How <i>do</i>
+      you find yourself? Won&rsquo;t you shake hands?&rdquo; He took her hand, without
+      waiting to be repelled this time, and shook it with the heartiest
+      good-will.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Regina shuddered faintly: she summoned assistance in case of further
+      familiarity. &ldquo;Phoebe, tell my aunt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus added a message on his own account. &ldquo;And say this, my dear. I
+      sincerely desire to make the acquaintance of Miss Regina&rsquo;s aunt, and any
+      other members of the family circle.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe left the room, smiling. Such an amusing visitor as this was a rare
+      person in Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s house. Rufus looked after her, with unconcealed
+      approval. The maid appeared to be more to his taste than the mistress.
+      &ldquo;Well, that&rsquo;s a pretty creature, I do declare,&rdquo; he said to Regina.
+      &ldquo;Reminds me of our American girls&mdash;slim in the waist, and carries her
+      head nicely. How old may she be, now?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Regina expressed her opinion of this familiar question by pointing, with
+      silent dignity, to a chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, miss; not that one,&rdquo; said Rufus. &ldquo;You see, I&rsquo;m long in the
+      legs, and if I once got down as low as that, I reckon I should have to
+      restore the balance by putting my feet up on the grate; and that&rsquo;s not
+      manners in Great Britain&mdash;and quite right too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He picked out the highest chair he could find, and admired the workmanship
+      as he drew it up to the fireplace. &ldquo;Most sumptuous and elegant,&rdquo; he said.
+      &ldquo;The style of the Re<i>nay</i>sance, as they call it.&rdquo; Regina observed
+      with dismay that he had not got his hat in his hand like other visitors.
+      He had left it no doubt in the hall; he looked as if he had dropped in to
+      spend the day, and stay to dinner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, miss, I&rsquo;ve seen your photograph,&rdquo; he resumed; &ldquo;and I don&rsquo;t much
+      approve of it, now I see You. My sentiments are not altogether favourable
+      to that art. I delivered a lecture on photographic portraiture at
+      Coolspring; and I described it briefly as justice without mercy. The
+      audience took the idea; they larfed, they did. Larfin&rsquo; reminds me of
+      Amelius. Do you object to his being a Christian Socialist, miss?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The young lady&rsquo;s look, when she answered the question, was not lost on
+      Rufus. He registered it, mentally, in case of need. &ldquo;Amelius will soon get
+      over all that nonsense,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;when he has been a little longer in
+      London.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Possible,&rdquo; Rufus admitted. &ldquo;The boy is fond of you. Yes: he loves you. I
+      have noticed him, and I can certify to that. I may also remark that he
+      wants a deal of love in return. No doubt, miss, you have observed that
+      circumstance yourself?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Regina resented this last inquiry as an outrage on propriety. &ldquo;What next
+      will he say?&rdquo; she thought to herself. &ldquo;I must put this presuming man in
+      his proper place.&rdquo; She darted another annihilating look at him, as she
+      spoke in her turn. &ldquo;May I ask, Mr.&mdash;Mr.&mdash;&mdash;?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dingwell,&rdquo; said Rufus, prompting her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May I ask, Mr. Dingwell, if you have favoured me by calling here at the
+      request of Mr. Goldenheart?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Genial and simple-minded as he was, eagerly as he desired to appreciate at
+      her full value the young lady who was one day to be the wife of Amelius,
+      Rufus felt the tone in which those words were spoken. It was not easy to
+      stimulate his modest sense of what was fairly due to him into asserting
+      itself, but the cold distrust, the deliberate distance of Regina&rsquo;s manner,
+      exhausted the long-suffering indulgence of this singularly patient man.
+      &ldquo;The Lord, in his mercy, preserve Amelius from marrying You,&rdquo; he thought,
+      as he rose from his chair, and advanced with a certain simple dignity to
+      take leave of her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It did not occur to me, miss, to pay my respects to you, till Amelius and
+      I had parted company,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Please to excuse me. I should have been
+      welcome, in my country, with no better introduction than being (as I may
+      say) his friend and well-wisher. If I have made a mistake&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He stopped. Regina had suddenly changed colour. Instead of looking at him,
+      she was looking over his shoulder, apparently at something behind him. He
+      turned to see what it was. A lady, short and stout, with strange wild
+      sorrowful eyes, had noiselessly entered the room while he was speaking:
+      she was waiting, as it seemed, until he had finished what he had to say.
+      When they confronted each other, she moved to meet him, with a firm heavy
+      step, and with her hand held out in token of welcome.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You may feel equally sure, sir, of a friendly reception here,&rdquo; she said,
+      in her steady self-possessed way. &ldquo;I am this young lady&rsquo;s aunt; and I am
+      glad to see the friend of Amelius in my house.&rdquo; Before Rufus could answer,
+      she turned to Regina. &ldquo;I waited,&rdquo; she went on, &ldquo;to give you an opportunity
+      of explaining yourself to this gentleman. I am afraid he has mistaken your
+      coldness of manner for intentional rudeness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The colour rushed back into Regina&rsquo;s face&mdash;she vibrated for a moment
+      between anger and tears. But the better nature in her broke its way
+      through the constitutional shyness and restraint which habitually kept it
+      down. &ldquo;I meant no harm, sir,&rdquo; she said, raising her large beautiful eyes
+      submissively to Rufus; &ldquo;I am not used to receiving strangers. And you did
+      ask me some very strange questions,&rdquo; she added, with a sudden burst of
+      self-assertion. &ldquo;Strangers are not in the habit of saying such things in
+      England.&rdquo; She looked at Mrs. Farnaby, listening with impenetrable
+      composure, and stopped in confusion. Her aunt would not scruple to speak
+      to the stranger about Amelius in her presence&mdash;there was no knowing
+      what she might not have to endure. She turned again to Rufus. &ldquo;Excuse me,&rdquo;
+       she said, &ldquo;if I leave you with my aunt&mdash;I have an engagement.&rdquo; With
+      that trivial apology, she made her escape from the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She has no engagement,&rdquo; Mrs. Farnaby briefly remarked as the door closed.
+      &ldquo;Sit down, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For once, even Rufus was not as his ease. &ldquo;I can hit it off, ma&rsquo;am, with
+      most people,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I wonder what I&rsquo;ve done to offend your niece?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My niece (with many good qualities) is a narrow-minded young woman,&rdquo; Mrs.
+      Farnaby explained. &ldquo;You are not like the men she is accustomed to see. She
+      doesn&rsquo;t understand you&mdash;you are not a commonplace gentleman. For
+      instance,&rdquo; Mrs. Farnaby continued, with the matter-of-fact gravity of a
+      woman innately inaccessible to a sense of humour, &ldquo;you have got something
+      strange on your hair. It seems to be melting, and it smells like soap. No:
+      it&rsquo;s no use taking out your handkerchief&mdash;your handkerchief won&rsquo;t mop
+      it up. I&rsquo;ll get a towel.&rdquo; She opened an inner door, which disclosed a
+      little passage, and a bath-room beyond it. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m the strongest person in
+      the house,&rdquo; she resumed, returning with a towel in her hand, as gravely as
+      ever. &ldquo;Sit still, and don&rsquo;t make apologies. If any of us can rub you dry,
+      I&rsquo;m the woman.&rdquo; She set to work with the towel, as if she had been Rufus&rsquo;s
+      mother, making him presentable in the days of his boyhood. Giddy under the
+      violence of the rubbing, staggered by the contrast between the cold
+      reception accorded to him by the niece, and the more than friendly welcome
+      offered by the aunt, Rufus submitted to circumstances in docile and silent
+      bewilderment. &ldquo;There; you&rsquo;ll do till you get home&mdash;nobody can laugh
+      at you now,&rdquo; Mrs. Farnaby announced. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re an absent-minded man, I
+      suppose? You wanted to wash your head, and you forgot the warm water and
+      the towel. Was that how it happened, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thank you with all my heart, ma&rsquo;am; I took it for pomatum,&rdquo; Rufus
+      answered. &ldquo;Would you object to shaking hands again? This cordial welcome
+      of yours reminds me, I do assure you, of home. Since I left New England,
+      I&rsquo;ve never met with the like of you. I do suppose now it was my hair that
+      set Miss Regina&rsquo;s back up? I&rsquo;m not quite easy in my mind, ma&rsquo;am, about
+      your niece. I&rsquo;m sort of feared of what she may say of me to Amelius. I
+      meant no harm, Lord knows.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The secret of Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s extraordinary alacrity in the use of the
+      towel began slowly to show itself now. The tone of her American guest had
+      already become the friendly and familiar tone which it had been her object
+      to establish. With a little management, he might be made an invaluable
+      ally in the great work of hindering the marriage of Amelius.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are very fond of your young friend?&rdquo; she began quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is so, ma&rsquo;am.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And he has told you that he has taken a liking to my niece?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And shown me her likeness,&rdquo; Rufus added.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And shown you her likeness. And you thought you would come here, and see
+      for yourself what sort of girl she was?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Naturally,&rdquo; Rufus admitted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Farnaby revealed, without further hesitation, the object that she had
+      in view. &ldquo;Amelius is little more than a lad, still,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;He has got
+      all his life before him. It would be a sad thing, if he married a girl who
+      didn&rsquo;t make him happy.&rdquo; She turned in her chair, and pointed to the door
+      by which Regina had left them. &ldquo;Between ourselves,&rdquo; she resumed, dropping
+      her voice to a whisper, &ldquo;do you believe my niece will make him happy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus hesitated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;m above family prejudices,&rdquo; Mrs. Farnaby proceeded. &ldquo;You needn&rsquo;t be
+      afraid of offending me. Speak out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus would have spoken out to any other woman in the universe. <i>This</i>
+      woman had preserved him from ridicule&mdash;<i>this</i> woman had rubbed
+      his head dry. He prevaricated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t suppose I understand the ladies in this country,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Mrs. Farnaby was not to be trifled with. &ldquo;If Amelius was your son, and
+      if he asked you to consent to his marriage with my niece,&rdquo; she rejoined,
+      &ldquo;would you say Yes?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This was too much for Rufus. &ldquo;Not if he went down on both his knees to ask
+      me,&rdquo; he answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Farnaby was satisfied at last, and owned it without reserve. &ldquo;My own
+      opinion,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;exactly expressed! don&rsquo;t be surprised. Didn&rsquo;t I tell
+      you I had no family prejudices? Do you know if he has spoken to my
+      husband, yet?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus looked at his watch. &ldquo;I reckon he&rsquo;s just about done it by this
+      time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Farnaby paused, and reflected for a moment. She had already attempted
+      to prejudice her husband against Amelius, and had received an answer which
+      Mr. Farnaby considered to be final. &ldquo;Mr. Goldenheart honours us if he
+      seeks our alliance; he is the representative of an old English family.&rdquo;
+       Under these circumstances, it was quite possible that the proposals of
+      Amelius had been accepted. Mrs. Farnaby was not the less determined that
+      the marriage should never take place, and not the less eager to secure the
+      assistance of her new ally. &ldquo;When will Amelius tell you about it?&rdquo; she
+      asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When I go back to his lodgings, ma&rsquo;am.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go back at once&mdash;and bear this in mind as you go. If you can find
+      out any likely way of parting these two young people (in their own best
+      interests), depend on one thing&mdash;if I can help you, I will. I&rsquo;m as
+      fond of Amelius as you are. Ask him if I haven&rsquo;t done my best to keep him
+      away from my niece. Ask him if I haven&rsquo;t expressed my opinion, that she&rsquo;s
+      not the right wife for him. Come and see me again as soon as you like. I&rsquo;m
+      fond of Americans. Good morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus attempted to express his sense of gratitude, in his own briefly
+      eloquent way. He was not allowed a hearing. With one and the same action,
+      Mrs. Farnaby patted him on the shoulder, and pushed him out of the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If that woman was an American citizen,&rdquo; Rufus reflected, on his way
+      through the streets, &ldquo;she&rsquo;d be the first female President of the United
+      States!&rdquo; His admiration of Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s energy and resolution, expressed
+      in these strong terms, acknowledged but one limit. Highly as he approved
+      of her, there was nevertheless an unfathomable something in the woman&rsquo;s
+      eyes that disturbed and daunted him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 3
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Rufus found his friend at the lodgings, prostrate on the sofa, smoking
+      furiously. Before a word had passed between them, it was plain to the New
+      Englander that something had gone wrong.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he asked; &ldquo;and what does Farnaby say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Damn Farnaby!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus was secretly conscious of an immense sense of relief. &ldquo;I call that a
+      stiff way of putting it,&rdquo; he quietly remarked; &ldquo;but the meaning&rsquo;s clear.
+      Farnaby has said No.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius jumped off the sofa, and planted himself defiantly on the
+      hearthrug.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&rsquo;re wrong for once,&rdquo; he said, with a bitter laugh. &ldquo;The exasperating
+      part of it is that Farnaby has said neither Yes nor No. The oily-whiskered
+      brute&mdash;you haven&rsquo;t seen him yet, have you?&mdash;began by saying Yes.
+      &lsquo;A man like me, the heir of a fine old English family, honoured him by
+      making proposals; he could wish no more brilliant prospect for his dear
+      adopted child. She would fill the high position that was offered to her,
+      and fill it worthily.&rsquo; That was the fawning way in which he talked to me
+      at first! He squeezed my hand in his horrid cold shiny paw till, I give
+      you my word of honour, I felt as if I was going to be sick. Wait a little;
+      you haven&rsquo;t heard the worst of it yet. He soon altered his tone&mdash;it
+      began with his asking me, if I had &lsquo;considered the question of
+      settlements&rsquo;. I didn&rsquo;t know what he meant. He had to put it in plain
+      English; he wanted to hear what my property was. &lsquo;Oh, that&rsquo;s soon
+      settled,&rsquo; I said. &lsquo;I&rsquo;ve got five hundred a year; and Regina is welcome to
+      every farthing of it.&rsquo; He fell back in his chair as if I had shot him; he
+      turned&mdash;it was worse than pale, he positively turned green. At first
+      he wouldn&rsquo;t believe me; he declared I must be joking. I set him right
+      about that immediately. His next change was a proud impudence. &lsquo;Have you
+      not observed, sir, in what style Regina is accustomed to live in my house?
+      Five hundred a year? Good heavens! With strict economy, five hundred a
+      year might pay her milliner&rsquo;s bill and the keep of her horse and carriage.
+      Who is to pay for everything else&mdash;the establishment, the
+      dinner-parties and balls, the tour abroad, the children, the nurses, the
+      doctor? I tell you this, Mr. Goldenheart, I&rsquo;m willing to make a sacrifice
+      to you, as a born gentleman, which I would certainly not consent to in the
+      case of any self-made man. Enlarge your income, sir, to no more than four
+      times five hundred pounds, and I guarantee a yearly allowance to Regina of
+      half as much again, besides the fortune which she will inherit at my
+      death. That will make your income three thousand a year to start with. I
+      know something of domestic expenses, and I tell you positively, you can&rsquo;t
+      do it on a farthing less.&rsquo; That was his language, Rufus. The insolence of
+      his tone I can&rsquo;t attempt to describe. If I hadn&rsquo;t thought of Regina, I
+      should have behaved in a manner unworthy of a Christian&mdash;I believe I
+      should have taken my walking-cane, and given him a sound thrashing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus neither expressed surprise nor offered advice. He was lost in
+      meditation on the wealth of Mr. Farnaby. &ldquo;A stationer&rsquo;s business seems to
+      eventuate in a lively profit, in this country,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A stationer&rsquo;s business?&rdquo; Amelius repeated disdainfully. &ldquo;Farnaby has half
+      a dozen irons in the fire besides that. He&rsquo;s got a newspaper, and a patent
+      medicine, and a new bank, and I don&rsquo;t know what else. One of his own
+      friends said to me, &lsquo;Nobody knows whether Farnaby is rich or poor; he is
+      going to do one of two things&mdash;he is going to die worth millions, or
+      to die bankrupt.&rsquo; Oh, if I can only live to see the day when Socialism
+      will put that sort of man in his right place!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Try a republic, on our model, first,&rdquo; said Rufus. &ldquo;When Farnaby talks of
+      the style his young woman is accustomed to live in, what does he mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He means,&rdquo; Amelius answered smartly, &ldquo;a carriage to drive out in,
+      champagne on the table, and a footman to answer the door.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Farnaby&rsquo;s ideas, sir, have crossed the water and landed in New York,&rdquo;
+       Rufus remarked. &ldquo;Well, and what did you say to him, on your side?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I gave it to him, I can tell you! &lsquo;That&rsquo;s all ostentation,&rsquo; I said. &lsquo;Why
+      can&rsquo;t Regina and I begin life modestly? What do we want with a carriage to
+      drive out in, and champagne on the table, and a footman to answer the
+      door? We want to love each other and be happy. There are thousands of as
+      good gentlemen as I am, in England, with wives and families, who would ask
+      for nothing better than an income of five hundred a year. The fact is, Mr.
+      Farnaby, you&rsquo;re positively saturated with the love of money. Get your New
+      Testament and read what Christ says of rich people.&rsquo; What do you think he
+      did, when I put it in that unanswerable way? He held up his hand, and
+      looked horrified. &lsquo;I can&rsquo;t allow profanity in my office,&rsquo; says he. &lsquo;I have
+      my New Testament read to me in church, sir, every Sunday.&rsquo; That&rsquo;s the sort
+      of Christian, Rufus, who is the average product of modern times! He was as
+      obstinate as a mule; he wouldn&rsquo;t give way a single inch. His adopted
+      daughter, he said, was accustomed to live in a certain style. In that same
+      style she should live when she was married, so long as he had a voice in
+      the matter. Of course, if she chose to set his wishes and feelings at
+      defiance, in return for all that he had done for her, she was old enough
+      to take her own way. In that case, he would tell me as plainly as he meant
+      to tell her, that she must not look to a single farthing of his money to
+      help her, and not expect to find her name down in his will. He felt the
+      honour of a family alliance with me as sincerely as ever. But he must
+      abide by the conditions that he had stated. On those terms, he would be
+      proud to give me the hand of Regina at the altar, and proud to feel that
+      he had done his duty by his adopted child. I let him go on till he had run
+      himself out&mdash;and then I asked quietly, if he could tell me the way to
+      increase my income to two thousand a year. How do you think he answered
+      me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps he offered to utilise your capital in his business,&rdquo; Rufus
+      guessed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not he! He considered business quite beneath me; my duty to myself, as a
+      gentleman, was to adopt a profession. On reflection, it turned out that
+      there was but one likely profession to try, in my case&mdash;the Law. I
+      might be called to the Bar, and (with luck) I might get remunerative work
+      to do, in eight or ten years&rsquo; time. That, I declare to you, was the
+      prospect he set before me, if I chose to take his advice. I asked if he
+      was joking. Certainly not! I was only one-and-twenty years old (he
+      reminded me); I had plenty of time to spare&mdash;I should still marry
+      young if I married at thirty. I took up my hat, and gave him a bit of my
+      mind at parting. &lsquo;If you really mean anything,&rsquo; I said, &lsquo;you mean that
+      Regina is to pine and fade and be a middle-aged woman, and that I am to
+      resist the temptations that beset a young man in London, and lead the life
+      of a monk for the next ten years&mdash;and all for what? For a carriage to
+      ride out in, champagne on the table, and a footman to answer the door!
+      Keep your money, Mr. Farnaby; Regina and I will do without it.&rsquo;&mdash;What
+      are you laughing at? I don&rsquo;t think you could have put it more strongly
+      yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus suddenly recovered his gravity. &ldquo;I tell you this, Amelius,&rdquo; he
+      replied; &ldquo;you afford (as we say in my country) meaty fruit for reflection&mdash;you
+      do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean by that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I reckon you remember when we were aboard the boat. You gave us a
+      narrative of what happened in that Community of yours, which I can truly
+      cha<i>rac</i>terise as a combination of native eloquence and chastening
+      good sense. I put the question to myself, sir, what has become of that
+      well-informed and discreet young Christian, now he has changed the sphere
+      to England and mixed with the Farnabys? It&rsquo;s not to be denied that I see
+      him before me in the flesh when I look across the table here; but it&rsquo;s
+      equally true that I miss him altogether, in the spirit.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius sat down again on the sofa. &ldquo;In plain words,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you think
+      I have behaved like a fool in this matter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus crossed his long legs, and nodded his head in silent approval.
+      Instead of taking offence, Amelius considered a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It didn&rsquo;t strike me before,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;But, now you mention it, I can
+      understand that I appear to be a simple sort of fellow in what is called
+      Society here; and the reason, I suspect, is that it&rsquo;s not the society in
+      which I have been accustomed to mix. The Farnabys are new to me, Rufus.
+      When it comes to a question of my life at Tadmor, of what I saw and learnt
+      and felt in the Community&mdash;then, I can think and speak like a
+      reasonable being, because I am thinking and speaking of what I know
+      thoroughly well. Hang it, make some allowance for the difference of
+      circumstances! Besides, I&rsquo;m in love, and that alters a man&mdash;and, I
+      have heard some people say, not always for the better. Anyhow, I&rsquo;ve done
+      it with Farnaby, and it can&rsquo;t be undone. There will be no peace for me
+      now, till I have spoken to Regina. I have read the note you left for me.
+      Did you see her, when you called at the house?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The quiet tone in which the question was put surprised Rufus. He had fully
+      expected, after Regina&rsquo;s reception of him, to be called to account for the
+      liberty that he had taken. Amelius was too completely absorbed by his
+      present anxieties to consider trivial questions of etiquette. Hearing that
+      Rufus had seen Regina, he never even asked for his friend&rsquo;s opinion of
+      her. His mind was full of the obstacles that might be interposed to his
+      seeing her again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Farnaby is sure, after what has passed between us, to keep her out of my
+      way if he can,&rdquo; Amelius said. &ldquo;And Mrs. Farnaby, to my certain knowledge,
+      will help him. They don&rsquo;t suspect <i>you.</i> Couldn&rsquo;t you call again&mdash;you&rsquo;re
+      old enough to be her father&mdash;and make some excuse to take her out
+      with you for a walk?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The answer of Rufus to this was Roman in its brevity. He pointed to the
+      window, and said, &ldquo;Look at the rain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I must try her maid once more,&rdquo; said Amelius, resignedly. He took
+      his hat and umbrella. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t leave me, old fellow,&rdquo; he resumed as he
+      opened the door. &ldquo;This is the turning-point of my life. I&rsquo;m sorely in need
+      of a friend.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you think she will marry you against the will of her uncle and aunt?&rdquo;
+       Rufus asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am certain of it,&rdquo; Amelius answered. With that he left the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus looked after him sadly. Sympathy and sorrow were expressed in every
+      line of his rugged face. &ldquo;My poor boy! how will he bear it, if she says
+      No? What will become of him, if she says Yes?&rdquo; He rubbed his hand
+      irritably across his forehead, like a man whose own thoughts were
+      repellent to him. In a moment more, he plunged into his pockets, and drew
+      out again the letters introducing him to the secretaries of public
+      institutions. &ldquo;If there&rsquo;s salvation for Amelius,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I reckon I
+      shall find it here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 4
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The medium of correspondence between Amelius and Regina&rsquo;s maid was an old
+      woman who kept a shop for the sale of newspapers and periodicals, in a
+      by-street not far from Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s house. From this place his letters
+      were delivered to the maid, under cover of the morning newspapers&mdash;and
+      here he found the answers waiting for him later in the day. &ldquo;If Rufus
+      could only have taken her out for a walk, I might have seen Regina this
+      afternoon,&rdquo; thought Amelius. &ldquo;As it is, I may have to wait till to-morrow,
+      or later still. And then, there&rsquo;s the sovereign to Phoebe.&rdquo; He sighed as
+      he thought of the fee. Sovereigns were becoming scarce in our young
+      Socialist&rsquo;s purse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Arriving in sight of the newsvendor&rsquo;s shop, Amelius noticed a man leaving
+      it, who walked away towards the farther end of the street. When he entered
+      the shop himself a minute afterwards, the woman took up a letter from the
+      counter. &ldquo;A young man has just left this for you,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius recognised the maid&rsquo;s handwriting on the address. The man whom he
+      had seen leaving the shop was Phoebe&rsquo;s messenger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He opened the letter. Her mistress, Phoebe explained, was too much
+      flurried to be able to write. The master had astonished the whole
+      household by appearing among them at least three hours before the time at
+      which he was accustomed to leave his place of business. He had found &ldquo;Mrs.
+      Ormond&rdquo; (otherwise Regina&rsquo;s friend and correspondent, Cecilia) paying a
+      visit to his niece, and had asked to speak with her in private, before she
+      took leave. The result was an invitation to Regina, from Mrs. Ormond, to
+      stay for a little while at her house in the neighbourhood of Harrow. The
+      ladies were to leave London together, in Mrs. Ormond&rsquo;s carriage, that
+      afternoon. Under stress of strong persuasion, on the part of her uncle and
+      aunt as well as her friend, Regina had ended in giving way. But she had
+      not forgotten the interests of Amelius. She was willing to see him
+      privately on the next day, provided he left London by the train which
+      reached Harrow soon after eleven in the forenoon. If it happened to rain,
+      then he must put off his journey until the first fine day, arriving in any
+      case at the same hour. The place at which he was to wait was described to
+      him; and with these instructions the letter ended.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The rapidity with which Mr. Farnaby had carried out his resolution to
+      separate the lovers placed the weakness of Regina&rsquo;s character before
+      Amelius in a new and startling light. Why had she not stood on her
+      privileges, as a woman who had arrived at years of discretion, and refused
+      to leave London until she had first heard what her lover had to say?
+      Amelius had left his American friend, feeling sure that Regina&rsquo;s decision
+      would be in his favour, when she was called upon to choose between the man
+      who was ready to marry her, and the man who was nothing but her uncle by
+      courtesy. For the first time, he now felt that his own confident
+      anticipations might, by bare possibility, deceive him. He returned to his
+      lodgings, in such a state of depression, that compassionate Rufus insisted
+      on taking him out to dinner, and hurried him off afterwards to the play.
+      Thoroughly prostrated, Amelius submitted to the genial influence of his
+      friend. He had not even energy enough to feel surprised when Rufus
+      stopped, on their way to the tavern, at a dingy building adorned with a
+      Grecian portico, and left a letter and a card in charge of a servant at
+      the side-door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next day, by a happy interposition of Fortune, proved to be a day
+      without rain. Amelius followed his instructions to the letter. A little
+      watery sunshine showed itself as he left the station at Harrow. His mind
+      was still in such a state of doubt and disturbance that it drew from
+      superstition a faint encouragement to hope. He hailed the feeble November
+      sunlight as a good omen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. and Mrs. Ormond&rsquo;s place of residence stood alone, surrounded by its
+      own grounds. A wooden fence separated the property, on one side, from a
+      muddy little by-road, leading to a neighbouring farm. At a wicket-gate in
+      this fence, giving admission to a shrubbery situated at some distance from
+      the house, Amelius now waited for the appearance of the maid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After a delay of a few minutes only, the faithful Phoebe approached the
+      gate with a key in her hand. &ldquo;Where is she?&rdquo; Amelius asked, as the girl
+      opened the gate for him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Waiting for you in the shrubbery. Stop, sir; I have something to say to
+      you first.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius took out his purse, and produced the fee. Even he had observed
+      that Phoebe was perhaps a little too eager to get her money!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, sir. Please to look at your watch. You mustn&rsquo;t be with Miss
+      Regina a moment longer than a quarter of an hour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is the time, sir, when Mrs. Ormond is engaged every day with her
+      cook and housekeeper. In a quarter of an hour the orders will be given&mdash;and
+      Mrs. Ormond will join Miss Regina for a walk in the grounds. You will be
+      the ruin of me, sir, if she finds you here.&rdquo; With that warning, the maid
+      led the way along the winding paths of the shrubbery.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must thank you for your letter, Phoebe,&rdquo; said Amelius, as he followed
+      her. &ldquo;By-the-by, who was your messenger?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe&rsquo;s answer was no answer at all. &ldquo;Only a young man, sir,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In plain words, your sweetheart, I suppose?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe&rsquo;s expressive silence was her only reply. She turned a corner, and
+      pointed to her mistress standing alone before the entrance of a damp and
+      deserted summer-house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Regina put her handkerchief to her eyes, when the maid had discreetly
+      retired. &ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; she said softly, &ldquo;I am afraid this is very wrong.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius removed the handkerchief by the exercise of a little gentle force,
+      and administered comfort under the form of a kiss. Having opened the
+      proceedings in this way, he put his first question, &ldquo;Why did you leave
+      London?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How could I help it!&rdquo; said Regina, feebly. &ldquo;They were all against me.
+      What else could I do?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It occurred to Amelius that she might, at her age, have asserted a will of
+      her own. He kept his idea, however, to himself, and, giving her his arm,
+      led her slowly along the path of the shrubbery. &ldquo;You have heard, I
+      suppose, what Mr. Farnaby expects of me?&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, dear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <i>&ldquo;I</i> call it worse than mercenary&mdash;I call it downright brutal.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Amelius, don&rsquo;t talk so!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius came suddenly to a standstill. &ldquo;Does that mean you agree with
+      him?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be angry with me, dear. I only meant there was some excuse for
+      him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What excuse?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you see, he has a high idea of your family, and he thought you were
+      rich people. And&mdash;I know you didn&rsquo;t mean it, Amelius&mdash;but,
+      still, you did disappoint him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius dropped her arm. This mildly-persistent defence of Mr. Farnaby
+      exasperated him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps I have disappointed <i>you?&rdquo;</i> he said.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ &ldquo;Oh, no, no! Oh, how cruel you are!&rdquo; The ready tears showed themselves
+again in her magnificent eyes&mdash;gentle considerate tears that raised
+no storm in her bosom, and produced no unbecoming results in her face.
+&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be hard on me!&rdquo; she said, appealing to him helplessly, like a
+charming overgrown child.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      Some men might have still resisted her; but Amelius was not one of them.
+      He took her hand, and pressed it tenderly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Regina,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;do you love me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know I do!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He put his arm round her waist, he concentrated the passion that was in
+      him into a look, and poured the look into her eyes. &ldquo;Do you love me as
+      dearly as I love you?&rdquo; he whispered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She felt it with all the little passion that was in her. After a moment of
+      hesitation, she put one arm timidly round his neck, and, bending her grand
+      head, laid it on his bosom. Her finely-rounded, supple, muscular figure
+      trembled, as if she had been the most fragile woman living. &ldquo;Dear
+      Amelius!&rdquo; she murmured inaudibly. He tried to speak to her&mdash;his voice
+      failed him. She had, in perfect innocence, fired his young blood. He drew
+      her closer and closer to him: he lifted her head, with a masterful
+      resolution which she was not able to resist, and pressed his kisses in hot
+      and breathless succession on her lips. His vehemence frightened her. She
+      tore herself out of his arms with a sudden exertion of strength that took
+      him completely by surprise. &ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t think you would have been rude to
+      me!&rdquo; With that mild reproach, she turned away, and took the path which led
+      from the shrubbery to the house. Amelius followed her, entreating that she
+      would accept his excuses and grant him a few minutes more. He modestly
+      laid all the blame on her beauty&mdash;lamented that he had not resolution
+      enough to resist the charm of it. When did that commonplace compliment
+      ever fail to produce its effect? Regina smiled with the weakly complacent
+      good-nature, which was only saved from being contemptible by its
+      association with her personal attractions. &ldquo;Will you promise to behave?&rdquo;
+       she stipulated. And Amelius, not very eagerly, promised.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shall we go into the summer-house?&rdquo; he suggested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s very damp at this time of year,&rdquo; Regina answered, with placid good
+      sense. &ldquo;Perhaps we might catch cold&mdash;we had better walk about.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They walked accordingly. &ldquo;I wanted to speak to you about our marriage,&rdquo;
+       Amelius resumed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She sighed softly. &ldquo;We have some time to wait,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;before we can
+      think of that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He passed this reply over without notice. &ldquo;You know,&rdquo; he went on, &ldquo;that I
+      have an income of five hundred a year?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, dear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are hundreds of thousands of respectable artisans, Regina, (with
+      large families), who live comfortably on less than half my income.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do they, dear?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And many gentlemen are not better off. Curates, for instance. Do you see
+      what I am coming to, my darling?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, dear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Could you live with me in a cottage in the country, with a nice garden,
+      and one little maid to wait on us, and two or three new dresses in a
+      year?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Regina lifted her fine eyes in sober ecstasy to the sky. &ldquo;It sounds very
+      tempting,&rdquo; she remarked, in the sweetest tones of her voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And it could all be done,&rdquo; Amelius proceeded, &ldquo;on five hundred a year.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Could it, dear?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have calculated it&mdash;allowing the necessary margin&mdash;and I am
+      sure of what I say. And I have done something else; I have asked about the
+      Marriage License. I can easily find lodgings in the neighbourhood. We
+      might be married at Harrow in a fortnight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Regina started: her eyes opened widely, and rested on Amelius with an
+      expression of incredulous wonder. &ldquo;Married in a fortnight?&rdquo; she repeated.
+      &ldquo;What would my uncle and aunt say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My angel, our happiness doesn&rsquo;t depend on your uncle and aunt&mdash;our
+      happiness depends on ourselves. Nobody has any power to control us. I am a
+      man, and you are a woman; and we have a right to be married whenever we
+      like.&rdquo; Amelius pronounced this last oracular sentence with his head held
+      high, and a pleasant inner persuasion of the convincing manner in which he
+      had stated his case.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Without my uncle to give me away!&rdquo; Regina exclaimed. &ldquo;Without my aunt!
+      With no bridesmaids, and no friends, and no wedding-breakfast! Oh,
+      Amelius, what <i>can</i> you be thinking of?&rdquo; She drew back a step, and
+      looked at him in helpless consternation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For the moment, and the moment only, Amelius lost all patience with her.
+      &ldquo;If you really loved me,&rdquo; he said bitterly, &ldquo;you wouldn&rsquo;t think of the
+      bridesmaids and the breakfast!&rdquo; Regina had her answer ready in her pocket&mdash;she
+      took out her handkerchief. Before she could lift it to her eyes, Amelius
+      recovered himself. &ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t mean that&mdash;I am sure
+      you love me&mdash;take my arm again. Do you know, Regina, I doubt whether
+      your uncle has told you everything that passed between us. Are you really
+      aware of the hard terms that he insists on? He expects me to increase my
+      five hundred a year to two thousand, before he will sanction our
+      marriage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, dear, he told me that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have as much chance of earning fifteen hundred a year, Regina, as I
+      have of being made King of England. Did he tell you <i>that?&rdquo;</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He doesn&rsquo;t agree with you, dear&mdash;he thinks you might earn it (with
+      your abilities) in ten years.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This time it was the turn of Amelius to look at Regina in helpless
+      consternation. &ldquo;Ten years?&rdquo; he repeated. &ldquo;Do you coolly contemplate
+      waiting ten years before we are married? Good heavens! is it possible that
+      you are thinking of the money? that <i>you</i> can&rsquo;t live without
+      carriages and footmen, and ostentation and grandeur&mdash;?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He stopped. For once, even Regina showed that she had spirit enough to be
+      angry. &ldquo;You ought to be ashamed of yourself to speak to me in that way!&rdquo;
+       she broke out indignantly. &ldquo;If you have no better opinion of me than that,
+      I won&rsquo;t marry you at all&mdash;no, not if you had fifty thousand a year,
+      sir, to-morrow! Am I to have no sense of duty to my uncle&mdash;to the
+      good man who has been a second father to me? Do you think I am ungrateful
+      enough to set his wishes at defiance? Oh yes, I know you don&rsquo;t like him! I
+      know that a great many people don&rsquo;t like him. That doesn&rsquo;t make any
+      difference to Me! But for dear uncle Farnaby, I might have gone to the
+      workhouse, I might have been a starving needlewoman, a poor persecuted
+      maid-of-all-work. Am I to forget that, because you have no patience, and
+      only think of yourself? Oh, I wish I had never met with you! I wish I had
+      never been fool enough to be as fond of you as I am!&rdquo; With that
+      confession, she turned her back on him, and took refuge in her
+      handkerchief once more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius stood looking at her in silent despair. After the tone in which
+      she had spoken of her obligations to her uncle, it was useless to
+      anticipate any satisfactory result from the exertion of his influence over
+      Regina. Recalling what he had seen and heard, in Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s room,
+      Amelius could not doubt that the motive of pacifying his wife was the
+      motive which had first led Farnaby to receive Regina into his house. Was
+      it unreasonable or unjust to infer, that the orphan child must have been
+      mainly indebted to Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s sense of duty to the memory of her
+      sister for the parental protection afforded to her, from that time forth?
+      It would have been useless, and worse than useless, to place before Regina
+      such considerations as these. Her exaggerated idea of the gratitude that
+      she owed to her uncle was beyond the limited reach of reason. Nothing was
+      to be gained by opposition; and no sensible course was left but to say
+      some peace-making words and submit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg your pardon, Regina, if I have offended you. You have sadly
+      disappointed me. I haven&rsquo;t deliberately misjudged you; I can say no more.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She turned round quickly, and looked at him. There was an ominous change
+      to resignation in his voice, there was a dogged submission in his manner,
+      that alarmed her. She had never yet seen him under the perilously-patient
+      aspect in which he now presented himself, after his apology had been made.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I forgive you, Amelius, with all my heart,&rdquo; she said&mdash;and timidly
+      held out her hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He took it, raised it silently to his lips, and dropped it again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She suddenly turned pale. All the love that she had in her to give to a
+      man, she had given to Amelius. Her heart sank; she asked herself, in blank
+      terror, if she had lost him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid it is <i>I</i> who have offended <i>you,&rdquo;</i> she said.
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be angry with me, Amelius! don&rsquo;t make me more unhappy than I am!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not in the least angry,&rdquo; he answered, still in the quiet subdued way
+      that terrified her. &ldquo;You can&rsquo;t expect me, Regina, to contemplate a ten
+      years&rsquo; engagement cheerfully.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She took his hand, and held it in both her own hands&mdash;held it, as if
+      his love for her was there and she was determined not to let it go.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you will only leave it to me,&rdquo; she pleaded, &ldquo;the engagement shan&rsquo;t be
+      so long as that. Try my uncle with a little kindness and respect, Amelius,
+      instead of saying hard words to him. Or let <i>me</i> try him, if you are
+      too proud to give way. May I say that you had no intention of offending
+      him, and that you are willing to leave the future to me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly,&rdquo; said Amelius, &ldquo;if you think it will be of the slightest use.&rdquo;
+       His tone added plainly, &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t believe in your uncle, mind, as you do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She still persisted. &ldquo;It will be of the greatest use,&rdquo; she went on. &ldquo;He
+      will let me go home again, and he will not object to your coming to see
+      me. He doesn&rsquo;t like to be despised and set at defiance&mdash;who does? Be
+      patient, Amelius; and I will persuade him to expect less money from you&mdash;only
+      what you may earn, dear, with your talents, long before ten years have
+      passed.&rdquo; She waited for a word of reply which might show that she had
+      encouraged him a little. He only smiled. &ldquo;You talk of loving me,&rdquo; she
+      said, drawing back from him with a look of reproach; &ldquo;and you don&rsquo;t even
+      believe what I say to you.&rdquo; She stopped, and looked behind her with a
+      faint cry of alarm. Hurried footsteps were audible on the other side of
+      the evergreens that screened them. Amelius stepped back to a turn in the
+      path, and discovered Phoebe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t stay a moment longer, sir!&rdquo; cried the girl. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve been to the house&mdash;and
+      Mrs. Ormond isn&rsquo;t there&mdash;and nobody knows where she is. Get out by
+      the gate, sir, while you have the chance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius returned to Regina. &ldquo;I mustn&rsquo;t get the girl into a scrape,&rdquo; he
+      said. &ldquo;You know where to write to me. Good-bye.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Regina made a sign to the maid to retire. Amelius had never taken leave of
+      her as he was taking leave of her now. She forgot the fervent embrace and
+      the daring kisses&mdash;she was desperate at the bare idea of losing him.
+      &ldquo;Oh, Amelius, don&rsquo;t doubt that I love you! Say you believe I love you!
+      Kiss me before you go!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He kissed her&mdash;but, ah, not as he had kissed her before. He said the
+      words she wanted him to say&mdash;but only to please her, not with all his
+      heart. She let him go; reproaches would be wasted at that moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe found her pale and immovable, rooted to the spot on which they had
+      parted. &ldquo;Dear, dear me, miss, what&rsquo;s gone wrong?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And her mistress answered wildly, in words that had never before passed
+      her placid lips, &ldquo;O Phoebe, I wish I was dead!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Such was the impression left on the mind of Regina by the interview in the
+      shrubbery.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The impression left on the mind of Amelius was stated in equally strong
+      language, later in the day. His American friend asked innocently for news,
+      and was answered in these terms:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Find something to occupy my mind, Rufus, or I shall throw the whole thing
+      over and go to the devil.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The wise man from New England was too wise to trouble Amelius with
+      questions, under these circumstances. &ldquo;Is that so?&rdquo; was all he said. Then
+      he put his hand in his pocket, and, producing a letter, laid it quietly on
+      the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For me?&rdquo; Amelius asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You wanted something to occupy your mind,&rdquo; the wily Rufus answered.
+      &ldquo;There &lsquo;tis.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius read the letter. It was dated, &ldquo;Hampden Institution.&rdquo; The
+      secretary invited Amelius, in highly complimentary terms, to lecture, in
+      the hall of the Institution, on Christian Socialism as taught and
+      practised in the Community at Tadmor. He was offered two-thirds of the
+      profits derived from the sale of places, and was left free to appoint his
+      own evening (at a week&rsquo;s notice) and to issue his own advertisements.
+      Minor details were reserved to be discussed with the secretary, when the
+      lecturer had consented to the arrangement proposed to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Having finished the letter, Amelius looked at his friend. &ldquo;This is your
+      doing,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus admitted it, with his customary candour. He had a letter of
+      introduction to the secretary, and he had called by appointment that
+      morning. The Institution wanted something new to attract the members and
+      the public. Having no present intention of lecturing himself, he had
+      thought of Amelius, and had spoken his thought. &ldquo;I mentioned,&rdquo; Rufus added
+      slyly, &ldquo;that I didn&rsquo;t reckon you would mount the platform. But he&rsquo;s a
+      sanguine creature, that secretary&mdash;and he said he&rsquo;d try.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why should I say No?&rdquo; Amelius asked, a little irritably. &ldquo;The secretary
+      pays me a compliment, and offers me an opportunity of spreading our
+      principles. Perhaps,&rdquo; he added, more quietly, after a moment&rsquo;s reflection,
+      &ldquo;you thought I might not be equal to the occasion&mdash;and, in that case,
+      I don&rsquo;t say you were wrong.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus shook his head. &ldquo;If you had passed your life in this decrepit little
+      island,&rdquo; he replied, &ldquo;I might have doubted you, likely enough. But
+      Tadmor&rsquo;s situated in the United States. If they don&rsquo;t practise the boys in
+      the art of orating, don&rsquo;t you tell me there&rsquo;s an American citizen with a
+      voice in <i>that</i> society. Guess again, my son. You won&rsquo;t? Well, then,
+      &lsquo;twas uncle Farnaby I had in my mind. I said to myself&mdash;not to the
+      secretary&mdash;Amelius is bound to consider uncle Farnaby. Oh, my! what
+      would uncle Farnaby say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The hot temper of Amelius took fire instantly. &ldquo;What the devil do I care
+      for Farnaby&rsquo;s opinions?&rdquo; he burst out. &ldquo;If there&rsquo;s a man in England who
+      wants the principles of Christian Socialism beaten into his thick head,
+      it&rsquo;s Farnaby. Are you going to see the secretary again?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I might look in,&rdquo; Rufus answered, &ldquo;in the course of the evening.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell him I&rsquo;ll give the lecture&mdash;with my compliments and thanks. If I
+      can only succeed,&rdquo; pursued Amelius, hearing himself with the new idea, &ldquo;I
+      may make a name as a lecturer, and a name means money, and money means
+      beating Farnaby with his own weapons. It&rsquo;s an opening for me, Rufus, at
+      the crisis of my life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is so,&rdquo; Rufus admitted. &ldquo;I may as well look up the secretary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why shouldn&rsquo;t I go with you?&rdquo; Amelius suggested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo; Rufus agreed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They left the house together.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      BOOK THE FIFTH. THE FATAL LECTURE
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 1
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Late that night Amelius sat alone in his room, making notes for the
+      lecture which he had now formally engaged himself to deliver in a week&rsquo;s
+      time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thanks to his American education (as Rufus had supposed), he had not been
+      without practice in the art of public speaking. He had learnt to face his
+      fellow-creatures in the act of oratory, and to hear the sound of his own
+      voice in a silent assembly, without trembling from head to foot. English
+      newspapers were regularly sent to Tadmor, and English politics were
+      frequently discussed in the little parliament of the Community. The
+      prospect of addressing a new audience, with their sympathies probably
+      against him at the outset, had its terrors undoubtedly. But the more
+      formidable consideration, to the mind of Amelius, was presented by the
+      limits imposed on him in the matter of time. The lecture was to be
+      succeeded (at the request of a clerical member of the Institution) by a
+      public discussion; and the secretary&rsquo;s experience suggested that the
+      lecturer would do well to reduce his address within the compass of an
+      hour. &ldquo;Socialism is a large subject to be squeezed into that small space,&rdquo;
+       Amelius had objected. And the secretary sighed, and answered, &ldquo;They won&rsquo;t
+      listen any longer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Making notes, from time to time, of the points on which it was most
+      desirable to insist, and on the relative positions which they should
+      occupy in his lecture, the memory of Amelius became more and more absorbed
+      in recalling the scenes in which his early life had been passed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He laid down his pen, as the clock of the nearest church struck the first
+      dark hour of the morning, and let his thoughts take him back again,
+      without interruption or restraint, to the hills and vales of Tadmor. Once
+      more the kind old Elder Brother taught him the noble lessons of
+      Christianity as they came from the inspired Teacher&rsquo;s own lips; once more
+      he took his turn of healthy work in the garden and the field; once more
+      the voices of his companions joined with him in the evening songs, and the
+      timid little figure of Mellicent stood at his side, content to hold the
+      music-book and listen. How poor, how corrupt, did the life look that he
+      was leading now, by comparison with the life that he had led in those
+      earlier and happier days! How shamefully he had forgotten the simple
+      precepts of Christian humility, Christian sympathy, and Christian
+      self-restraint, in which his teachers had trusted as the safeguards that
+      were to preserve him from the foul contact of the world! Within the last
+      two days only, he had refused to make merciful allowance for the errors of
+      a man, whose life had been wasted in the sordid struggle upward from
+      poverty to wealth. And, worse yet, he had cruelly distressed the poor girl
+      who loved him, at the prompting of those selfish passions which it was his
+      first and foremost duty to restrain. The bare remembrance of it was
+      unendurable to him, in his present frame of mind. With his customary
+      impetuosity, he snatched up the pen, to make atonement before he went to
+      rest that night. He wrote in few words to Mr. Farnaby, declaring that he
+      regretted having spoken impatiently and contemptuously at the interview
+      between them, and expressing the hope that their experience of each other,
+      in the time to come, might perhaps lead to acceptable concessions on
+      either side. His letter to Regina was written, it is needless to say, in
+      warmer terms and at much greater length: it was the honest outpouring of
+      his love and his penitence. When the letters were safe in their envelopes
+      he was not satisfied, even yet. No matter what the hour might be, there
+      was no ease of mind for Amelius, until he had actually posted his letters.
+      He stole downstairs, and softly unbolted the door, and hurried away to the
+      nearest letter-box. When he had let himself in again with his latch-key,
+      his mind was relieved at last. &ldquo;Now,&rdquo; he thought, as he lit his bed-room
+      candle, &ldquo;I can go to sleep!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A visit from Rufus was the first event of the day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The two set to work together to draw out the necessary advertisement of
+      the lecture. It was well calculated to attract attention in certain
+      quarters. The announcement addressed itself, in capital letters, to all
+      honest people who were poor and discontented. &ldquo;Come, and hear the remedy
+      which Christian Socialism provides for your troubles, explained to you by
+      a friend and a brother; and pay no more than sixpence for the place that
+      you occupy.&rdquo; The necessary information as to time and place followed this
+      appeal; including the offer of reserved seats at higher prices. By advice
+      of the secretary, the advertisement was not sent to any journal having its
+      circulation among the wealthier classes of society. It appeared
+      prominently in one daily paper and in two weekly papers; the three
+      possessing an aggregate sale of four hundred thousand copies. &ldquo;Assume only
+      five readers to each copy,&rdquo; cried sanguine Amelius, &ldquo;and we appeal to an
+      audience of two millions. What a magnificent publicity!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was one inevitable result of magnificent publicity which Amelius
+      failed to consider. His advertisements were certain to bring people
+      together, who might otherwise never have met in the great world of London,
+      under one roof. All over England, Scotland, and Ireland, he invited
+      unknown guests to pass the evening with him. In such circumstances,
+      recognitions may take place between persons who have lost sight of each
+      other for years; conversations may be held, which might otherwise never
+      have been exchanged; and results may follow, for which the hero of the
+      evening may be innocently responsible, because two or three among his
+      audience happen to be sitting to hear him on the same bench. A man who
+      opens his doors, and invites the public indiscriminately to come in, runs
+      the risk of playing with inflammable materials, and can never be sure at
+      what time or in what direction they may explode.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus himself took the fair copies of the advertisement to the nearest
+      agent. Amelius stayed at home to think over his lecture.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was interrupted by the arrival of Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s answer to his letter.
+      The man of the oily whiskers wrote courteously and guardedly. He was
+      evidently flattered and pleased by the advance that had been made to him;
+      and he was quite willing &ldquo;under the circumstances&rdquo; to give the lovers
+      opportunities of meeting at his house. At the same time, he limited the
+      number of the opportunities. &ldquo;Once a week, for the present, my dear sir.
+      Regina will doubtless write to you, when she returns to London.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Regina wrote, by return of post. The next morning Amelius received a
+      letter from her which enchanted him. She had never loved him as she loved
+      him now; she longed to see him again; she had prevailed on Mrs. Ormond to
+      let her shorten her visit, and to intercede for her with the authorities
+      at home. They were to return together to London on the afternoon of the
+      next day. Amelius would be sure to find her, if he arranged to call in
+      time for five-o&rsquo;clock tea.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Towards four o&rsquo;clock on the next day, while Amelius was putting the
+      finishing touches to his dress, he was informed that &ldquo;a young person
+      wished to see him.&rdquo; The visitor proved to be Phoebe, with her handkerchief
+      to her eyes; indulging in grief, in humble imitation of her young
+      mistress&rsquo;s gentle method of proceeding on similar occasions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good God!&rdquo; cried Amelius, &ldquo;has anything happened to Regina?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir,&rdquo; Phoebe murmured behind the handkerchief. &ldquo;Miss Regina is at
+      home, and well.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then what are you crying about?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe forgot her mistress&rsquo;s gentle method. She answered, with an
+      explosion of sobs, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m ruined, sir!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean by being ruined? Who&rsquo;s done it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&rsquo;ve done it, sir!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius started. His relations with Phoebe had been purely and entirely of
+      the pecuniary sort. She was a showy, pretty girl, with a smart little
+      figure&mdash;but with some undeniably bad lines, which only observant
+      physiognomists remarked, about her eyebrows and her mouth. Amelius was not
+      a physiognomist; but he was in love with Regina, which at his age implied
+      faithful love. It is only men over forty who can court the mistress, with
+      reserves of admiration to spare for the maid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sit down,&rdquo; said Amelius; &ldquo;and tell me in two words what you mean.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe sat down, and dried her eyes. &ldquo;I have been infamously treated, sir,
+      by Mrs. Farnaby,&rdquo; she began&mdash;and stopped, overpowered by the bare
+      remembrance of her wrongs. She was angry enough, at that moment, to be off
+      her guard. The vindictive nature that was in the girl found its way
+      outward, and showed itself in her face. Amelius perceived the change, and
+      began to doubt whether Phoebe was quite worthy of the place which she had
+      hitherto held in his estimation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Surely there must be some mistake,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;What opportunity has Mrs.
+      Farnaby had of ill-treating you? You have only just got back to London.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg your pardon, sir, we got back sooner than we expected. Mrs. Ormond
+      had business in town: and she left Miss Regina at her own door, nearly two
+      hours since.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, sir, I had hardly taken off my bonnet and shawl, when I was sent
+      for by Mrs. Farnaby. &lsquo;Have you unpacked your box yet?&rsquo; says she. I told
+      her I hadn&rsquo;t had time to do so. &lsquo;You needn&rsquo;t trouble yourself to unpack,&rsquo; 
+      says she. &lsquo;You are no longer in Miss Regina&rsquo;s service. There are your
+      wages&mdash;with a month&rsquo;s wages besides, in place of the customary
+      warning.&rsquo; I&rsquo;m only a poor girl, sir, but I up and spoke to her as plain as
+      she spoke to me. &lsquo;I want to know,&rsquo; I says, &lsquo;why I am sent away in this
+      uncivil manner?&rsquo; I couldn&rsquo;t possibly repeat what she said. My blood boils
+      when I think of it,&rdquo; Phoebe declared, with melodramatic vehemence.
+      &ldquo;Somebody has found us out, sir. Somebody has told Mrs. Farnaby of your
+      private meeting with Miss Regina in the shrubbery, and the money you
+      kindly gave me. I believe Mrs. Ormond is at the bottom of it; you remember
+      nobody knew where she was, when I thought she was in the house speaking to
+      the cook. That&rsquo;s guess-work, I allow, so far. What is certain is, that I
+      have been spoken to as if I was the lowest creature that walks the
+      streets. Mrs. Farnaby refuses to give me a character, sir. She actually
+      said she would call in the police, if I didn&rsquo;t leave the house in half an
+      hour. How am I to get another place, without a character? I&rsquo;m a ruined
+      girl, that&rsquo;s what I am&mdash;and all through You!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Threatened at this point with an illustrative outburst of sobbing Amelius
+      was simple enough to try the consoling influence of a sovereign. &ldquo;Why
+      don&rsquo;t you speak to Miss Regina?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;You know she will help you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She has done all she can, sir. I have nothing to say against Miss Regina&mdash;she&rsquo;s
+      a good creature. She came into the room, and begged, and prayed, and took
+      all the blame on herself. Mrs. Farnaby wouldn&rsquo;t hear a word. &lsquo;I&rsquo;m mistress
+      here,&rsquo; she says; &lsquo;you had better go back to your room.&rsquo; Ah, Mr. Amelius, I
+      can tell you Mrs. Farnaby is your enemy as well as mine! you&rsquo;ll never
+      marry her niece if <i>she</i> can stop it. Mark my words, sir, that&rsquo;s the
+      secret of the vile manner in which she has used me. My conscience is
+      clear, thank God. I&rsquo;ve tried to serve the cause of true love&mdash;and I&rsquo;m
+      not ashamed of it. Never mind! my turn is to come. I&rsquo;m only a poor
+      servant, sent adrift in the world without a character. Wait a little! you
+      see if I am not even (and better than even) with Mrs. Farnaby, before
+      long! <i>I know what I know.</i> I am not going to say any more than that.
+      She shall rue the day,&rdquo; cried Phoebe, relapsing into melodrama again,
+      &ldquo;when she turned me out of the house like a thief!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come! come!&rdquo; said Amelius, sharply, &ldquo;you mustn&rsquo;t speak in that way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe had got her money: she could afford to be independent. She rose
+      from her chair. The insolence which is the almost invariable accompaniment
+      of a sense of injury among Englishwomen of her class expressed itself in
+      her answer to Amelius. &ldquo;I speak as I think, sir. I have some spirit in me;
+      I am not a woman to be trodden underfoot&mdash;and so Mrs. Farnaby shall
+      find, before she is many days older.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Phoebe! Phoebe! you are talking like a heathen. If Mrs. Farnaby has
+      behaved to you with unjust severity, set her an example of moderation on
+      your side. It&rsquo;s your duty as a Christian to forgive injuries.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe burst out laughing. &ldquo;Hee-hee-hee! Thank you, sir, for a sermon as
+      well as a sovereign. You have been most kind, indeed!&rdquo; She changed
+      suddenly from irony to anger. &ldquo;I never was called a heathen before!
+      Considering what I have done for you, I think you might at least have been
+      civil. Good afternoon, sir.&rdquo; She lifted her saucy little snub-nose, and
+      walked with dignity out of the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For the moment, Amelius was amused. As he heard the house-door closed, he
+      turned laughing to the window, for a last look at Phoebe in the character
+      of an injured Christian. In an instant the smile left his lips&mdash;he
+      drew back from the window with a start.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A man had been waiting for Phoebe, in the street. At the moment when
+      Amelius looked out, she had just taken his arm. He glanced back at the
+      house, as they walked away together. Amelius immediately recognised, in
+      Phoebe&rsquo;s companion (and sweetheart), a vagabond Irishman, nicknamed Jervy,
+      whose face he had last seen at Tadmor. Employed as one of the agents of
+      the Community in transacting their business with the neighbouring town, he
+      had been dismissed for misconduct, and had been unwisely taken back again,
+      at the intercession of a respectable person who believed in his promises
+      of amendment. Amelius had suspected this man of being the spy who
+      officiously informed against Mellicent and himself, but having discovered
+      no evidence to justify his suspicions, he had remained silent on the
+      subject. It was now quite plain to him that Jervy&rsquo;s appearance in London
+      could only be attributed to a second dismissal from the service of the
+      Community, for some offence sufficiently serious to oblige him to take
+      refuge in England. A more disreputable person it was hardly possible for
+      Phoebe to have become acquainted with. In her present vindictive mood, he
+      would be emphatically a dangerous companion and counsellor. Amelius felt
+      this so strongly, that he determined to follow them, on the chance of
+      finding out where Jervy lived. Unhappily, he had only arrived at this
+      resolution after a lapse of a minute or two. He ran into the street but it
+      was too late; not a trace of them was to be discovered. Pursuing his way
+      to Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s house, he decided on mentioning what had happened to
+      Regina. Her aunt had not acted wisely in refusing to let the maid refer to
+      her for a character. She would do well to set herself right with Phoebe,
+      in this particular, before it was too late.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 2
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Farnaby stood at the door of her own room, and looked at her niece
+      with an air of contemptuous curiosity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well? You and your lover have had a fine time of it together, I suppose?
+      What do you want here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Amelius wishes particularly to speak to you, aunt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell him to save himself the trouble. He may reconcile your uncle to his
+      marriage&mdash;he won&rsquo;t reconcile Me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s not about that, aunt; it&rsquo;s about Phoebe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does he want me to take Phoebe back again?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At that moment Amelius appeared in the hall, and answered the question
+      himself. &ldquo;I want to give you a word of warning,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Farnaby smiled grimly. &ldquo;That excites my curiosity,&rdquo; she replied.
+      &ldquo;Come in. I don&rsquo;t want <i>you,&rdquo;</i> she added, dismissing her niece at the
+      door. &ldquo;So you&rsquo;re willing to wait ten years for Regina?&rdquo; she continued,
+      when Amelius was alone with her. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m disappointed in you; you&rsquo;re a poor
+      weak creature, after all. What about that young hussy, Phoebe?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius told her unreservedly all that had passed between the discarded
+      maid and himself, not forgetting, before he concluded, to caution her on
+      the subject of the maid&rsquo;s companion. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know what that man may not
+      do to mislead Phoebe,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;If I were you, I wouldn&rsquo;t drive her into
+      a corner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Farnaby eyed him scornfully from head to foot. &ldquo;You used to have the
+      spirit of a man in you,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;Keeping company with Regina has
+      made you a milksop already. If you want to know what I think of Phoebe and
+      her sweetheart&mdash;&rdquo; she stopped, and snapped her fingers. &ldquo;There!&rdquo; she
+      said, &ldquo;that&rsquo;s what I think! Now go back to Regina. I can tell you one
+      thing&mdash;she will never be your wife.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius looked at her in quiet surprise. &ldquo;It seems odd,&rdquo; he remarked,
+      &ldquo;that you should treat me as you do, after what you said to me, the last
+      time I was in this room. You expect me to help you in the dearest wish of
+      your life&mdash;and you do everything you can to thwart the dearest wish
+      of <i>my</i> life. A man can&rsquo;t keep his temper under continual
+      provocation. Suppose I refuse to help you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Farnaby looked at him with the most exasperating composure. &ldquo;I defy
+      you to do it,&rdquo; she answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You defy me to do it!&rdquo; Amelius exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you take me for a fool?&rdquo; Mrs. Farnaby went on. &ldquo;Do you think I don&rsquo;t
+      know you better than you know yourself?&rdquo; She stepped up close to him; her
+      voice sank suddenly to low and tender tones. &ldquo;If that last unlikely chance
+      should turn out in my favour,&rdquo; she went on; &ldquo;if you really did meet with
+      my poor girl, one of these days, and knew that you had met with her&mdash;do
+      you mean to say you could be cruel enough, no matter how badly I behaved
+      to you, to tell me nothing about it? Is <i>that</i> the heart I can feel
+      beating under my hand? Is <i>that</i> the Christianity you learnt at
+      Tadmor? Pooh, pooh, you foolish boy! Go back to Regina; and tell her you
+      have tried to frighten me, and you find it won&rsquo;t do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The next day was Saturday. The advertisement of the lecture appeared in
+      the newspapers. Rufus confessed that he had been extravagant enough, in
+      the case of the two weekly journals, to occupy half a page. &ldquo;The public,&rdquo;
+       he explained, &ldquo;have got a nasty way of overlooking advertisements of a
+      modest and retiring character. Hit &lsquo;em in the eyes when they open the
+      paper, or you don&rsquo;t hit &lsquo;em at all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Among the members of the public attracted by the new announcement, Mrs.
+      Farnaby was one. She honoured Amelius with a visit at his lodgings. &ldquo;I
+      called you a poor weak creature yesterday&rdquo; (these were her first words on
+      entering the room); &ldquo;I talked like a fool. You&rsquo;re a splendid fellow; I
+      respect your courage, and I shall attend your lecture. Never mind what Mr.
+      Farnaby and Regina say. Regina&rsquo;s poor little conventional soul is shaken,
+      I dare say; you needn&rsquo;t expect to have my niece among your audience. But
+      Farnaby is a humbug, as usual. He affects to be horrified; he talks big
+      about breaking off the match. In his own self, he&rsquo;s bursting with
+      curiosity to know how you will get through with it. I tell you this&mdash;he
+      will sneak into the hall and stand at the back where nobody can see him. I
+      shall go with him; and, when you&rsquo;re on the platform, I&rsquo;ll hold up my
+      handkerchief like this. Then you&rsquo;ll know he&rsquo;s there. Hit him hard, Amelius&mdash;hit
+      him hard! Where is your friend Rufus? just gone away? I like that
+      American. Give him my love, and tell him to come and see me.&rdquo; She left the
+      room as abruptly as she had entered it. Amelius looked after her in
+      amazement. Mrs. Farnaby was not like herself; Mrs. Farnaby was in good
+      spirits!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Regina&rsquo;s opinion of the lecture arrived by post.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Every other word in her letter was underlined; half the sentences began
+      with &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo;; Regina was shocked, astonished, ashamed, alarmed. What would
+      Amelius do next? Why had he deceived her, and left her to find it out in
+      the papers? He had undone all the good effect of those charming letters to
+      her father and herself. He had no idea of the disgust and abhorrence which
+      respectable people would feel at his odious Socialism. Was she never to
+      know another happy moment? and was Amelius to be the cause of it? and so
+      on, and so on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s protest followed, delivered by Mr. Farnaby himself. He kept
+      his gloves on when he called; he was solemn and pathetic; he remonstrated,
+      in the character of one of the ancestors of Amelius; he pitied the ancient
+      family &ldquo;mouldering in the silent grave,&rdquo; he would abstain from deciding in
+      a hurry, but his daughter&rsquo;s feelings were outraged, and he feared it might
+      be his duty to break off the match. Amelius, with perfect good temper,
+      offered him a free admission, and asked him to hear the lecture and decide
+      for himself whether there was any harm in it. Mr. Farnaby turned his head
+      away from the ticket as if it was something indecent. &ldquo;Sad! sad!&rdquo; That was
+      his only farewell to the gentleman-Socialist.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On the Sunday (being the only day in London on which a man can use his
+      brains without being interrupted by street music), Amelius rehearsed his
+      lecture. On the Monday, he paid his weekly visit to Regina.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was reported&mdash;whether truly or not it was impossible for him to
+      discover&mdash;to have gone out in the carriage with Mrs. Ormond. Amelius
+      wrote to her in soothing and affectionate terms, suggesting, as he had
+      suggested to her father, that she should wait to hear the lecture before
+      she condemned it. In the mean time, he entreated her to remember that they
+      had promised to be true to one another, in time and eternity&mdash;Socialism
+      notwithstanding.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The answer came back by private messenger. The tone was serious. Regina&rsquo;s
+      principles forbade her to attend a Socialist lecture. She hoped Amelius
+      was in earnest in writing as he did about time and eternity. The subject
+      was very awful to a rightly-constituted mind. On the next page, some
+      mitigation of this severity followed in a postscript. Regina would wait at
+      home to see Amelius, the day after his &ldquo;regrettable appearance in public.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The evening of Tuesday was the evening of the lecture.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus posted himself at the ticket-taker&rsquo;s office, in the interests of
+      Amelius. &ldquo;Even sixpences do sometimes stick to a man&rsquo;s fingers, on their
+      way from the public to the money-box,&rdquo; he remarked. The sixpences did
+      indeed flow in rapidly; the advertisements had, so far, produced their
+      effect. But the reserved seats sold very slowly. The members of the
+      Institution, who were admitted for nothing, arrived in large numbers, and
+      secured the best places. Towards eight o&rsquo;clock (the hour at which the
+      lecture was to begin), the sixpenny audience was still pouring in. Rufus
+      recognised Phoebe among the late arrivals, escorted by a person in the
+      dress of a gentleman, who was palpably a blackguard nevertheless. A short
+      stout lady followed, who warily shook hands with Rufus, and said, &ldquo;Let me
+      introduce you to Mr. Farnaby.&rdquo; Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s mouth and chin were shrouded
+      in a wrapper; his hat was over his eyebrows. Rufus observed that he looked
+      as if he was ashamed of himself. A gaunt, dirty, savage old woman,
+      miserably dressed, offered her sixpence to the moneytaker, while the two
+      gentlemen were shaking hands; the example, it is needless to say, being
+      set by Rufus. The old woman looked attentively at all that was visible of
+      Mr. Farnaby&mdash;that is to say, at his eyes and his whiskers&mdash;by
+      the gas-lamp hanging in the corridor. She instantly drew back, though she
+      had got her ticket; waited until Mr. Farnaby had paid for his wife and
+      himself, and then followed close behind them, into the hall.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And why not? The advertisements addressed this wretched old creature as
+      one of the poor and discontented public. Sixteen years ago, John Farnaby
+      had put his own child into that woman&rsquo;s hands at Ramsgate, and had never
+      seen either of them since.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 3
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Entering the hall, Mr. Farnaby discovered without difficulty the position
+      of modest retirement of which he was in search.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The cheap seats were situated, as usual, on that part of the floor of the
+      building which was farthest from the platform. A gallery at this end of
+      the hall threw its shadow over the hindermost benches and the gangway by
+      which they were approached. In the sheltering obscurity thus produced, Mr.
+      Farnaby took his place; standing in the corner formed by the angle it
+      which the two walls of the building met, with his dutiful wife at his
+      side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Still following them, unnoticed in the crowd, the old woman stopped at the
+      extremity of the hindermost bench, looked close at a smartly-dressed young
+      man who occupied the last seat at the end, and who paid marked attention
+      to a pretty girl sitting by him, and whispered in his ear, &ldquo;Now then,
+      Jervy! can&rsquo;t you make room for Mother Sowler?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man started and looked round. &ldquo;You here?&rdquo; he exclaimed, with an oath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Before he could say more, Phoebe whispered to him on the other side, &ldquo;What
+      a horrid old creature! How did you ever come to know her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At the same moment, Mrs. Sowler reiterated her request in more peremptory
+      language. &ldquo;Do you hear, Jervy&mdash;do you hear? Sit a little closer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jervy apparently had his reasons for treating the expression of Mrs.
+      Sowler&rsquo;s wishes with deference, shabby as she was. Making abundant
+      apologies, he asked his neighbours to favour him by sitting a little
+      nearer to each other, and so contrive to leave a morsel of vacant space at
+      the edge of the bench.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe, making room under protest, began to whisper again. &ldquo;What does she
+      mean by calling you Jervy? She looks like a beggar. Tell her your name is
+      Jervis.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The reply she received did not encourage her to say more. &ldquo;Hold your
+      tongue; I have reasons for being civil to her&mdash;you be civil too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He turned to Mrs. Sowler, with the readiest submission to circumstances.
+      Under the surface of his showy looks and his vulgar facility of manner,
+      there lay hidden a substance of callous villainy and impenetrable cunning.
+      He had in him the materials out of which the clever murderers are made,
+      who baffle the police. If he could have done it with impunity, he would
+      have destroyed without remorse the squalid old creature who sat by him,
+      and who knew enough of his past career in England to send him to penal
+      servitude for life. As it was, he spoke to her with a spurious
+      condescension and good humour. &ldquo;Why, it must be ten years, Mrs. Sowler,
+      since I last saw you! What have you been doing?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman frowned at him as she answered. &ldquo;Can&rsquo;t you look at me, and see?
+      Starving!&rdquo; She eyed his gaudy watch and chain greedily. &ldquo;Money don&rsquo;t seem
+      to be scarce with you. Have you made your fortune in America?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He laid his hand on her arm, and pressed it warningly. &ldquo;Hush!&rdquo; he said,
+      under his breath. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll talk about that, after the lecture.&rdquo; His bright
+      shifty black eyes turned furtively towards Phoebe&mdash;and Mrs. Sowler
+      noticed it. The girl&rsquo;s savings in service had paid for his jewelry and his
+      fine clothes. She silently resented his rudeness in telling her to &ldquo;hold
+      her tongue&rdquo;; sitting, sullen, with her impudent little nose in the air.
+      Jervy tried to include her indirectly in his conversation with his shabby
+      old friend. &ldquo;This young lady,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;knows Mr. Goldenheart. She feels
+      sure he&rsquo;ll break down; and we&rsquo;ve come here to see the fun. I don&rsquo;t hold
+      with Socialism myself&mdash;I am for, what my favourite newspaper calls,
+      the Altar and the Throne. In short, my politics are Conservative.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your politics are in your girl&rsquo;s pocket,&rdquo; muttered Mrs. Sowler. &ldquo;How long
+      will her money last?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jervy turned a deaf ear to the interruption. &ldquo;And what has brought you
+      here?&rdquo; he went on, in his most ingratiating way. &ldquo;Did you see the
+      advertisement in the papers?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Sowler answered loud enough to be heard above the hum of talking in
+      the sixpenny places. &ldquo;I was having a drop of gin, and I saw the paper at
+      the public-house. I&rsquo;m one of the discontented poor. I hate rich people;
+      and I&rsquo;m ready to pay my sixpence to hear them abused.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hear, hear!&rdquo; said a man near, who looked like a shoemaker.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope he&rsquo;ll give it to the aristocracy,&rdquo; added one of the shoemaker&rsquo;s
+      neighbours, apparently a groom out of place.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;m sick of the aristocracy,&rdquo; cried a woman with a fiery face and a
+      crushed bonnet. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s them as swallows up the money. What business have
+      they with their palaces and their parks, when my husband&rsquo;s out of work,
+      and my children hungry at home?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The acquiescent shoemaker listened with admiration. &ldquo;Very well put,&rdquo; he
+      said; &ldquo;very well put.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      These expressions of popular feeling reached the respectable ears of Mr.
+      Farnaby. &ldquo;Do you hear those wretches?&rdquo; he said to his wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Farnaby seized the welcome opportunity of irritating him. &ldquo;Poor
+      things!&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;In their place, we should talk as they do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You had better go into the reserved seats,&rdquo; rejoined her husband, turning
+      from her with a look of disgust. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s plenty of room. Why do you stop
+      here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I couldn&rsquo;t think of leaving you, my dear! How did you like my American
+      friend?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am astonished at your taking the liberty of introducing him to me. You
+      knew perfectly well that I was here incognito. What do I care about a
+      wandering American?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Farnaby persisted as maliciously as ever. &ldquo;Ah, but you see, I like
+      him. The wandering American is my ally.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your ally! What do you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good heavens, how dull you are! don&rsquo;t you know that I object to my
+      niece&rsquo;s marriage engagement? I was quite delighted when I heard of this
+      lecture, because it&rsquo;s an obstacle in the way. It disgusts Regina, and it
+      disgusts You&mdash;and my dear American is the man who first brought it
+      about. Hush! here&rsquo;s Amelius. How well he looks! So graceful and so
+      gentlemanlike,&rdquo; cried Mrs. Farnaby, signalling with her handkerchief to
+      show Amelius their position in the hall. &ldquo;I declare I&rsquo;m ready to become a
+      Socialist before he opens his lips!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The personal appearance of Amelius took the audience completely by
+      surprise. A man who is young and handsome is not the order of man who is
+      habitually associated in the popular mind with the idea of a lecture.
+      After a moment of silence, there was a spontaneous burst of applause. It
+      was renewed when Amelius, first placing on his table a little book,
+      announced his intention of delivering the lecture extempore. The absence
+      of the inevitable manuscript was in itself an act of mercy that cheered
+      the public at starting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The orator of the evening began.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ladies and gentlemen, thoughtful people accustomed to watch the signs of
+      the times in this country, and among the other nations of Europe, are (so
+      far as I know) agreed in the conclusion, that serious changes are likely
+      to take place in present forms of government, and in existing systems of
+      society, before the century in which we live has reached its end. In plain
+      words, the next revolution is not so unlikely, and not so far off, as it
+      pleases the higher and wealthier classes among European populations to
+      suppose. I am one of those who believe that the coming convulsion will
+      take the form, this time, of a social revolution, and that the man at the
+      head of it will not be a military or a political man&mdash;but a Great
+      Citizen, sprung from the people, and devoted heart and soul to the
+      people&rsquo;s cause. Within the limits assigned to me to-night, it is
+      impossible that I should speak to you of government and society among
+      other nations, even if I possessed the necessary knowledge and experience
+      to venture on so vast a subject. All that I can now attempt to do is
+      (first) to point out some of the causes which are paving the way for a
+      coming change in the social and political condition of this country; and
+      (secondly) to satisfy you that the only trustworthy remedy for existing
+      abuses is to be found in the system which Christian Socialism extracts
+      from this little book on my table&mdash;the book which you all know under
+      the name of The New Testament. Before, however, I enter on my task, I feel
+      it a duty to say one preliminary word on the subject of my claim to
+      address you, such as it is. I am most unwilling to speak of myself&mdash;but
+      my position here forces me to do so. I am a stranger to all of you; and I
+      am a very young man. Let me tell you, then, briefly, what my life has
+      been, and where I have been brought up&mdash;and then decide for
+      yourselves whether it is worth your while to favour me with your
+      attention, or not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A very good opening,&rdquo; remarked the shoemaker.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A nice-looking fellow,&rdquo; said the fiery-faced woman, &ldquo;I should like to
+      kiss him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He&rsquo;s too civil by half,&rdquo; grumbled Mrs. Sowler; &ldquo;I wish I had my sixpence
+      back in my pocket.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give him time.&rdquo; whispered Jervy, &ldquo;and he&rsquo;ll warm up. I say, Phoebe, he
+      doesn&rsquo;t begin like a man who is going to break down. I don&rsquo;t expect there
+      will be much to laugh at to-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What an admirable speaker!&rdquo; said Mrs. Farnaby to her husband. &ldquo;Fancy such
+      a man as that, being married to such an idiot as Regina!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There&rsquo;s always a chance for him,&rdquo; returned Mr. Farnaby, savagely, &ldquo;as
+      long as he&rsquo;s not married to such a woman as You!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In the mean time, Amelius had claimed national kindred with his audience
+      as an Englishman, and had rapidly sketched his life at Tadmor, in its most
+      noteworthy points. This done, he put the question whether they would hear
+      him. His frankness and freshness had already won the public: they answered
+      by a general shout of applause.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; Amelius proceeded, &ldquo;now let us get on. Suppose we take a
+      glance (we have no time to do more) at the present state of our religious
+      system, first. What is the public aspect of the thing called Christianity,
+      in the England of our day? A hundred different sects all at variance with
+      each other. An established church, rent in every direction by incessant
+      wrangling&mdash;disputes about black gowns or white; about having
+      candlesticks on tables, or off tables; about bowing to the east or bowing
+      to the west; about which doctrine collects the most respectable support
+      and possesses the largest sum of money, the doctrine in my church, or the
+      doctrine in your church, or the doctrine in the church over the way. Look
+      up, if you like, from this multitudinous and incessant squabbling among
+      the rank and file, to the high regions in which the right reverend
+      representatives of state religion sit apart. Are they Christians? If they
+      are, show me the Bishop who dare assert his Christianity in the House of
+      Lords, when the ministry of the day happens to see its advantage in
+      engaging in a war! Where is that Bishop, and how many supporters does he
+      count among his own order? Do you blame me for using intemperate language&mdash;language
+      which I cannot justify? Take a fair test, and try me by that. The result
+      of the Christianity of the New Testament is to make men true, humane,
+      gentle, modest, strictly scrupulous and strictly considerate in their
+      dealings with their neighbours. Does the Christianity of the churches and
+      the sects produce these results among us? Look at the staple of the
+      country, at the occupation which employs the largest number of Englishmen
+      of all degrees&mdash;Look at our Commerce. What is its social aspect,
+      judged by the morality which is in this book in my hand? Let those
+      organised systems of imposture, masquerading under the disguise of banks
+      and companies, answer the question&mdash;there is no need for me to answer
+      it. You know what respectable names are associated, year after year, with
+      the shameless falsification of accounts, and the merciless ruin of
+      thousands on thousands of victims. You know how our poor Indian customer
+      finds his cotton-print dress a sham that falls to pieces; how the savage
+      who deals honestly with us for his weapon finds his gun a delusion that
+      bursts; how the half-starved needlewoman who buys her reel of thread finds
+      printed on the label a false statement of the number of yards that she
+      buys; you know that, in the markets of Europe, foreign goods are fast
+      taking the place of English goods, because the foreigner is the most
+      honest manufacturer of the two&mdash;and, lastly, you know, what is worse
+      than all, that these cruel and wicked deceptions, and many more like them,
+      are regarded, on the highest commercial authority, as &lsquo;forms of
+      competition&rsquo; and justifiable proceedings in trade. Do you believe in the
+      honourable accumulation of wealth by men who hold such opinions and
+      perpetrate such impostures as these? I don&rsquo;t! Do you find any brighter and
+      purer prospect when you look down from the man who deceives you and me on
+      the great scale, to the man who deceives us on the small? I don&rsquo;t!
+      Everything we eat, drink, and wear is a more or less adulterated
+      commodity; and that very adulteration is sold to us by the tradesmen at
+      such outrageous prices, that we are obliged to protect ourselves on the
+      Socialist principle, by setting up cooperative shops of our own. Wait! and
+      hear me out, before you applaud. Don&rsquo;t mistake the plain purpose of what I
+      am saying to you; and don&rsquo;t suppose that I am blind to the brighter side
+      of the dark picture that I have drawn. Look within the limits of private
+      life, and you will find true Christians, thank God, among clergymen and
+      laymen alike; you will find men and women who deserve to be called, in the
+      highest sense of the word, disciples of Christ. But my business is not
+      with private life&mdash;my business is with the present public aspect of
+      the religion, morals, and politics of this country; and again I say it,
+      that aspect presents one wide field of corruption and abuse, and reveals a
+      callous and shocking insensibility on the part of the nation at large to
+      the spectacle of its own demoralisation and disgrace.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There Amelius paused, and took his first drink of water.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Reserved seats at public performances seem, by some curious affinity, to
+      be occupied by reserved persons. The select public, seated nearest to the
+      orator, preserved discreet silence. But the hearty applause from the
+      sixpenny places made ample amends. There was enough of the lecturer&rsquo;s own
+      vehemence and impetuosity in this opening attack&mdash;sustained as it
+      undeniably was by a sound foundation of truth&mdash;to appeal strongly to
+      the majority of his audience. Mrs. Sowler began to think that her sixpence
+      had been well laid out, after all; and Mrs. Farnaby pointed the direct
+      application to her husband of all the hardest hits at commerce, by nodding
+      her head at him as they were delivered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius went on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The next thing we have to discover is this: Will our present system of
+      government supply us with peaceable means for the reform of the abuses
+      which I have already noticed? not forgetting that other enormous abuse,
+      represented by our intolerable national expenditure, increasing with every
+      year. Unless you insist on it, I do not propose to waste our precious time
+      by saying anything about the House of Lords, for three good reasons. In
+      the first place, that assembly is not elected by the people, and it has
+      therefore no right of existence in a really free country. In the second
+      place, out of its four hundred and eighty-five members, no less than one
+      hundred and eighty-four directly profit by the expenditure of the public
+      money; being in the annual receipt, under one pretence or another, of more
+      than half a million sterling. In the third place, if the assembly of the
+      Commons has in it the will, as well as the capacity, to lead the way in
+      the needful reforms, the assembly of the Lords has no alternative but to
+      follow, or to raise the revolution which it only escaped, by a
+      hair&rsquo;s-breadth, some forty years since. What do you say? Shall we waste
+      our time in speaking of the House of Lords?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Loud cries from the sixpenny benches answered No; the ostler and the
+      fiery-faced woman being the most vociferous of all. Here and there,
+      certain dissentient individuals raised a little hiss&mdash;led by Jervy,
+      in the interests of &ldquo;the Altar and the Throne.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius resumed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, will the House of Commons help us to get purer Christianity, and
+      cheaper government, by lawful and sufficient process of reform? Let me
+      again remind you that this assembly has the power&mdash;if it has the
+      will. Is it so constituted at present as to have the will? There is the
+      question! The number of members is a little over six hundred and fifty.
+      Out of this muster, one fifth only represent (or pretend to represent) the
+      trading interests of the country. As for the members charged with the
+      interests of the working class, they are more easily counted still&mdash;they
+      are two in number! Then, in heaven&rsquo;s name (you will ask), what interest
+      does the majority of members in this assembly represent? There is but one
+      answer&mdash;the military and aristocratic interest. In these days of the
+      decay of representative institutions, the House of Commons has become a
+      complete misnomer. The Commons are not represented; modern members belong
+      to classes of the community which have really no interest in providing for
+      popular needs and lightening popular burdens. In one word, there is no
+      sort of hope for us in the House of Commons. And whose fault is this? I
+      own it with shame and sorrow&mdash;it is emphatically the fault of the
+      people. Yes, I say to you plainly, it is the disgrace and the peril of
+      England that the people themselves have elected the representative
+      assembly which ignores the people&rsquo;s wants! You voters, in town and county
+      alike, have had every conceivable freedom and encouragement secured to you
+      in the exercise of your sacred trust&mdash;and there is the modern House
+      of Commons to prove that you are thoroughly unworthy of it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      These bold words produced an outbreak of disapprobation from the audience,
+      which, for the moment, completely overpowered the speaker&rsquo;s voice. They
+      were prepared to listen with inexhaustible patience to the enumeration of
+      their virtues and their wrongs&mdash;but they had not paid sixpence each
+      to be informed of the vicious and contemptible part which they play in
+      modern politics. They yelled and groaned and hissed&mdash;and felt that
+      their handsome young lecturer had insulted them!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius waited quietly until the disturbance had worn itself out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sorry I have made you angry with me,&rdquo; he said, smiling. &ldquo;The blame
+      for this little disturbance really rests with the public speakers who are
+      afraid of you and who flatter you&mdash;especially if you belong to the
+      working classes. You are not accustomed to have the truth told you to your
+      faces. Why, my good friends, the people in this country, who are unworthy
+      of the great trust which the wise and generous English constitution places
+      in their hands, are so numerous that they can be divided into distinct
+      classes! There is the highly-educated class which despairs, and holds
+      aloof. There is the class beneath&mdash;without self-respect, and
+      therefore without public spirit&mdash;which can be bribed indirectly, by
+      the gift of a place, by the concession of a lease, even by an invitation
+      to a party at a great house which includes the wives and the daughters.
+      And there is the lower class still&mdash;mercenary, corrupt, shameless to
+      the marrow of its bones&mdash;which sells itself and its liberties for
+      money and drink. When I began this discourse, and adverted to great
+      changes that are to come, I spoke of them as revolutionary changes. Am I
+      an alarmist? Do I unjustly ignore the capacity for peaceable reformation
+      which has preserved modern England from revolutions, thus far? God forbid
+      that I should deny the truth, or that I should alarm you without need! But
+      history tells me, if I look no farther back than to the first French
+      Revolution, that there are social and political corruptions, which strike
+      their roots in a nation so widely and so deeply, that no force short of
+      the force of a revolutionary convulsion can tear them up and cast them
+      away. And I do personally fear (and older and wiser men than I agree with
+      me), that the corruptions at which I have only been able to hint, in this
+      brief address, are fast extending themselves&mdash;in England, as well as
+      in Europe generally&mdash;beyond the reach of that lawful and bloodless
+      reform which has served us so well in past years. Whether I am mistaken in
+      this view (and I hope with all my heart it may be so), or whether events
+      yet in the future will prove that I am right, the remedy in either case,
+      the one sure foundation on which a permanent, complete, and worthy
+      reformation can be built&mdash;whether it prevents a convulsion or whether
+      it follows a convulsion&mdash;is only to be found within the covers of
+      this book. Do not, I entreat you, suffer yourselves to be persuaded by
+      those purblind philosophers who assert that the divine virtue of
+      Christianity is a virtue which is wearing out with the lapse of time. It
+      is the abuse and corruption of Christianity that is wearing out&mdash;as
+      all falsities and all impostures must and do wear out. Never, since Christ
+      and his apostles first showed men the way to be better and happier, have
+      the nations stood in sorer need of a return to that teaching, in its
+      pristine purity and simplicity, than now! Never, more certainly than at
+      this critical time, was it the interest as well as the duty of mankind to
+      turn a deaf ear to the turmoil of false teachers, and to trust in that
+      all-wise and all-merciful Voice which only ceased to exalt, console, and
+      purify humanity, when it expired in darkness under the torture of the
+      cross! Are these the wild words of an enthusiast? Is this the dream of an
+      earthly Paradise in which it is sheer folly to believe? I can tell you of
+      one existing community (one among others) which numbers some hundreds of
+      persons; and which has found prosperity and happiness, by reducing the
+      whole art and mystery of government to the simple solution set forth in
+      the New Testament&mdash;fear God, and love thy neighbour as thyself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      By these gradations Amelius arrived at the second of the two parts into
+      which he had divided his address.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He now repeated, at greater length and with a more careful choice of
+      language, the statement of the religious and social principles of the
+      Community at Tadmor, which he had already addressed to his two
+      fellow-travellers on the voyage to England. While he confined himself to
+      plain narrative, describing a mode of life which was entirely new to his
+      hearers, he held the attention of the audience. But when he began to argue
+      the question of applying Christian Socialism to the government of large
+      populations as well as small&mdash;when he inquired logically whether what
+      he had proved to be good for some hundreds of persons was not also good
+      for some thousands, and, conceding that, for some hundreds of thousands,
+      and so on until he had arrived, by dint of sheer argument, at the
+      conclusion that what had succeeded at Tadmor must necessarily succeed on a
+      fair trial in London&mdash;then the public interest began to flag. People
+      remembered their coughs and colds, and talked in whispers, and looked
+      about them with a vague feeling of relief in staring at each other. Mrs.
+      Sowler, hitherto content with furtively glancing at Mr. Farnaby from time
+      to time, now began to look at him more boldly, as he stood in his corner
+      with his eyes fixed sternly on the platform at the other end of the hall.
+      He too began to feel that the lecture was changing its tone. It was no
+      longer the daring outbreak which he had come to hear, as his sufficient
+      justification (if necessary) for forbidding Amelius to enter his house. &ldquo;I
+      have had enough of it,&rdquo; he said, suddenly turning to his wife, &ldquo;let us
+      go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      If Mrs. Farnaby could have been forewarned that she was standing in that
+      assembly of strangers, not as one of themselves, but as a woman with a
+      formidable danger hanging over her head&mdash;or if she had only happened
+      to look towards Phoebe, and had felt a passing reluctance to submit
+      herself to the possibly insolent notice of a discharged servant&mdash;she
+      might have gone out with her husband, and might have so escaped the peril
+      that had been lying in wait for her, from the fatal moment when she first
+      entered the hall. As it was she refused to move. &ldquo;You forget the public
+      discussion,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Wait and see what sort of fight Amelius makes of
+      it when the lecture is over.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She spoke loud enough to be heard by some of the people seated nearest to
+      her. Phoebe, critically examining the dresses of the few ladies in the
+      reserved seats, twisted round on the bench, and noticed for the first time
+      the presence of Mr. and Mrs. Farnaby in their dim corner. &ldquo;Look!&rdquo; she
+      whispered to Jervy, &ldquo;there&rsquo;s the wretch who turned me out of her house
+      without a character, and her husband with her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jervy looked round, in his turn, a little doubtful of the accuracy of his
+      sweetheart&rsquo;s information. &ldquo;Surely they wouldn&rsquo;t come to the sixpenny
+      places,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Are you certain it&rsquo;s Mr. and Mrs. Farnaby?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He spoke in cautiously-lowered tones; but Mrs. Sowler had seen him look
+      back at the lady and gentleman in the corner, and was listening
+      attentively to catch the first words that fell from his lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Which is Mr. Farnaby?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The man in the corner there, with the white silk wrapper over his mouth,
+      and his hat down to his eyebrows.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Sowler looked round for a moment&mdash;to make sure that Jervy&rsquo;s man
+      and her man were one and the same.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Farnaby?&rdquo; she muttered to herself, in the tone of a person who heard the
+      name for the first time. She considered a little, and leaning across
+      Jervy, addressed herself to his companion. &ldquo;My dear,&rdquo; she whispered, &ldquo;did
+      that gentleman ever go by the name of Morgan, and have his letters
+      addressed to the George and Dragon, in Tooley-street?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe lifted her eyebrows with a look of contemptuous surprise, which was
+      an answer in itself. &ldquo;Fancy the great Mr. Farnaby going by an assumed
+      name, and having his letters addressed to a public-house!&rdquo; she said to
+      Jervy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Sowler asked no more questions. She relapsed into muttering to
+      herself, under her breath. &ldquo;His whiskers have turned gray, to be sure&mdash;but
+      I know his eyes again; I&rsquo;ll take my oath to it, there&rsquo;s no mistaking <i>his</i>
+      eyes!&rdquo; She suddenly appealed to Jervy. &ldquo;Is Mr. Farnaby rich?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Rolling in riches!&rdquo; was the answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where does he live?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jervy was cautious how he replied to that; he consulted Phoebe. &ldquo;Shall I
+      tell her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe answered petulantly, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m turned out of the house; I don&rsquo;t care
+      what you tell her!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jervy again addressed the old woman, still keeping his information in
+      reserve. &ldquo;Why do you want to know where he lives?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He owes me money,&rdquo; said Mrs. Sowler.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jervy looked hard at her, and emitted a long low whistle, expressive of
+      blank amazement. The persons near, annoyed by the incessant whispering,
+      looked round irritably, and insisted on silence. Jervy ventured
+      nevertheless on a last interruption. &ldquo;You seem to be tired of this,&rdquo; he
+      remarked to Phoebe; &ldquo;let&rsquo;s go and get some oysters.&rdquo; She rose directly.
+      Jervy tapped Mrs. Sowler on the shoulder, as they passed her. &ldquo;Come and
+      have some supper,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll stand treat.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The three were necessarily noticed by their neighbours as they passed out.
+      Mrs. Farnaby discovered Phoebe&mdash;when it was too late. Mr. Farnaby
+      happened to look first at the old woman. Sixteen years of squalid poverty
+      effectually disguised her, in that dim light. He only looked away again,
+      and said to his wife impatiently, &ldquo;Let us go too!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Farnaby was still obstinate. &ldquo;You can go if you like,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;I
+      shall stay here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 4
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Three dozen oysters, bread-and-butter, and bottled stout; a private room
+      and a good fire.&rdquo; Issuing these instructions, on his arrival at the
+      tavern, Jervy was surprised by a sudden act of interference on the part of
+      his venerable guest. Mrs. Sowler actually took it on herself to order her
+      own supper!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing cold to eat or drink for me,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Morning and night,
+      waking and sleeping, I can&rsquo;t keep myself warm. See for yourself, Jervy,
+      how I&rsquo;ve lost flesh since you first knew me! A steak, broiling hot from
+      the gridiron, and gin-and-water, hotter still&mdash;that&rsquo;s the supper for
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take the order, waiter,&rdquo; said Jervy, resignedly; &ldquo;and let us see the
+      private room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The tavern was of the old-fashioned English sort, which scorns to learn a
+      lesson of brightness and elegance from France. The private room can only
+      be described as a museum for the exhibition of dirt in all its varieties.
+      Behind the bars of the rusty little grate a dying fire was drawing its
+      last breath. Mrs. Sowler clamoured for wood and coals; revived the fire
+      with her own hands; and seated herself shivering as close to the fender as
+      the chair would go. After a while, the composing effect of the heat began
+      to make its influence felt: the head of the half-starved wretch sank: a
+      species of stupor overcame her&mdash;half faintness, and half sleep.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe and her sweetheart sat together, waiting the appearance of the
+      supper, on a little sofa at the other end of the room. Having certain
+      objects to gain, Jervy put his arm round her waist, and looked and spoke
+      in his most insinuating manner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Try and put up with Mother Sowler for an hour or two,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;My sweet
+      girl, I know she isn&rsquo;t fit company for you! But how can I turn my back on
+      an old friend?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s just what surprises me,&rdquo; Phoebe answered. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t understand such
+      a person being a friend of yours.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Always ready with the necessary lie, whenever the occasion called for it,
+      Jervy invented a pathetic little story, in two short parts. First part:
+      Mrs. Sowler, rich and respected; a widow inhabiting a villa-residence, and
+      riding in her carriage. Second part: a villainous lawyer; misplaced
+      confidence; reckless investments; death of the villain; ruin of Mrs.
+      Sowler. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t talk about her misfortunes when she wakes,&rdquo; Jervy
+      concluded, &ldquo;or she&rsquo;ll burst out crying, to a dead certainty. Only tell me,
+      dear Phoebe, would <i>you</i> turn your back on a forlorn old creature
+      because she has outlived all her other friends, and hasn&rsquo;t a farthing left
+      in the world? Poor as I am, I can help her to a supper, at any rate.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe expressed her admiration of these noble sentiments by an
+      inexpensive ebullition of tenderness, which failed to fulfill Jervy&rsquo;s
+      private anticipations. He had aimed straight at her purse&mdash;and he had
+      only hit her heart! He tried a broad hint next. &ldquo;I wonder whether I shall
+      have a shilling or two left to give Mrs. Sowler, when I have paid for the
+      supper?&rdquo; He sighed, and pulled out some small change, and looked at it in
+      eloquent silence. Phoebe was hit in the right place at last. She handed
+      him her purse. &ldquo;What is mine will be yours, when we are married,&rdquo; she
+      said; &ldquo;why not now?&rdquo; Jervy expressed his sense of obligation with the
+      promptitude of a grateful man; he repeated those precious words, &ldquo;My sweet
+      girl!&rdquo; Phoebe laid her head on his shoulder&mdash;and let him kiss her,
+      and enjoyed it in silent ecstasy with half-closed eyes. The scoundrel
+      waited and watched her, until she was completely under his influence.
+      Then, and not till then, he risked the gradual revelation of the purpose
+      which had induced him to withdraw from the hall, before the proceedings of
+      the evening had reached their end.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you hear what Mrs. Sowler said to me, just before we left the
+      lecture?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, dear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You remember that she asked me to tell her Farnaby&rsquo;s address?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh yes! And she wanted to know if he had ever gone by the name of Morgan.
+      Ridiculous&mdash;wasn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;m not so sure of that, my dear. She told me, in so many words, that
+      Farnaby owed her money. He didn&rsquo;t make his fortune all at once, I suppose.
+      How do we know what he might have done in his young days, or how he might
+      have humbugged a feeble woman. Wait till our friend there at the fire has
+      warmed her old bones with some hot grog&mdash;and I&rsquo;ll find out something
+      more about Farnaby&rsquo;s debt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, dear? What is it to you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jervy reflected for a moment, and decided that the time had come to speak
+      more plainly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In the first place,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;it would only be an act of common
+      humanity, on my part, to help Mrs. Sowler to get her money. You see that,
+      don&rsquo;t you? Very well. Now, I am no Socialist, as you are aware; quite the
+      contrary. At the same time, I am a remarkably just man; and I own I was
+      struck by what Mr. Goldenheart said about the uses to which wealthy people
+      are put, by the Rules at Tadmor. &lsquo;The man who has got the money is bound,
+      by the express law of Christian morality, to use it in assisting the man
+      who has got none.&rsquo; Those were his words, as nearly as I can remember them.
+      He put it still more strongly afterwards; he said, &lsquo;A man who hoards up a
+      large fortune, from a purely selfish motive&mdash;either because he is a
+      miser, or because he looks only to the aggrandisement of his own family
+      after his death&mdash;is, in either case, an essentially unchristian
+      person, who stands in manifest need of enlightenment and control by
+      Christian law.&rsquo; And then, if you remember, some of the people murmured;
+      and Mr. Goldenheart stopped them by reading a line from the New Testament,
+      which said exactly what he had been saying&mdash;only in fewer words. Now,
+      my dear girl, Farnaby seems to me to be one of the many people pointed at
+      in this young gentleman&rsquo;s lecture. Judging by looks, I should say he was a
+      hard man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s just what he is&mdash;hard as iron! Looks at his servants as if
+      they were dirt under his feet; and never speaks a kind word to them from
+      one year&rsquo;s end to another.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Suppose I guess again? He&rsquo;s not particularly free-handed with his money&mdash;is
+      he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He! He will spend anything on himself and his grandeur; but he never gave
+      away a halfpenny in his life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jervy pointed to the fireplace, with a burst of virtuous indignation. &ldquo;And
+      there&rsquo;s that poor old soul starving for want of the money he owes her!
+      Damn it, I agree with the Socialists; it&rsquo;s a virtue to make that sort of
+      man bleed. Look at you and me! We are the very people he ought to help&mdash;we
+      might be married at once, if we only knew where to find a little money.
+      I&rsquo;ve seen a deal of the world, Phoebe; and my experience tells me there&rsquo;s
+      something about that debt of Farnaby&rsquo;s which he doesn&rsquo;t want to have
+      known. Why shouldn&rsquo;t we screw a few five-pound notes for ourselves out of
+      the rich miser&rsquo;s fears?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe was cautious. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s against the law&mdash;ain&rsquo;t it?&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Trust me to keep clear of the law,&rdquo; Jervy answered. &ldquo;I won&rsquo;t stir in the
+      matter till I know for certain that he daren&rsquo;t take the police into his
+      confidence. It will be all easy enough when we are once sure of that. You
+      have been long enough in the family to find out Farnaby&rsquo;s weak side. Would
+      it do, if we got at him, to begin with, through his wife?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe suddenly reddened to the roots of her hair. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t talk to me about
+      his wife!&rdquo; she broke out fiercely; &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve got a day of reckoning to come
+      with that lady&mdash;&rdquo; She looked at Jervy and checked herself. He was
+      watching her with an eager curiosity, which not even his ready cunning was
+      quick enough to conceal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wouldn&rsquo;t intrude on your little secrets, darling, for the world!&rdquo; he
+      said, in his most persuasive tones. &ldquo;But, if you want advice, you know
+      that I am heart and soul at your service.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe looked across the room at Mrs. Sowler, still nodding over the fire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never mind now,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think it&rsquo;s a matter for a man to
+      advise about&mdash;it&rsquo;s between Mrs. Farnaby and me. Do what you like with
+      her husband; I don&rsquo;t care; he&rsquo;s a brute, and I hate him. But there&rsquo;s one
+      thing I insist on&mdash;I won&rsquo;t have Miss Regina frightened or annoyed;
+      mind that! She&rsquo;s a good creature. There, read the letter she wrote to me
+      yesterday, and judge for yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jervy looked at the letter. It was not very long. He resignedly took upon
+      himself the burden of reading it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;DEAR PHOEBE,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be downhearted. I am your friend always, and I will help you to get
+      another place. I am sorry to say that it was indeed Mrs. Ormond who found
+      us out that day. She had her suspicions, and she watched us, and told my
+      aunt. This she owned to me with her own lips. She said, &lsquo;I would do
+      anything, my dear, to save you from an ill-assorted marriage.&rsquo; I am very
+      wretched about it, because I can never look on her as my friend again. My
+      aunt, as you know, is of Mrs. Ormond&rsquo;s way of thinking. You must make
+      allowances for her hot temper. Remember, out of your kindness towards me,
+      you had been secretly helping forward the very thing which she was most
+      anxious to prevent. That made her very angry; but, never fear, she will
+      come round in time. If you don&rsquo;t want to spend your little savings, while
+      you are waiting for another situation, let me know. A share of my
+      pocket-money is always at your service.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your friend,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;REGINA.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very nice indeed,&rdquo; said Jervy, handing the letter back, and yawning as he
+      did it. &ldquo;And convenient, too, if we run short of money. Ah, here&rsquo;s the
+      waiter with the supper, at last! Now, Mrs. Sowler, there&rsquo;s a time for
+      everything&mdash;it&rsquo;s time to wake up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He lifted the old woman off her chair, and settled her before the table,
+      like a child. The sight of the hot food and drink roused her to a tigerish
+      activity. She devoured the meat with her eyes as well as her teeth; she
+      drank the hot gin-and-water in fierce gulps, and set down the glass with
+      audible gasps of relief. &ldquo;Another one,&rdquo; she cried, &ldquo;and I shall begin to
+      feel warm again!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jervy, watching her from the opposite side of the table, with Phoebe close
+      by him as usual, had his own motives for encouraging her to talk, by the
+      easy means of encouraging her to drink. He sent for another glass of the
+      hot grog. Phoebe, daintily picking up her oysters with her fork, affected
+      to be shocked at Mrs. Sowler&rsquo;s coarse method of eating and drinking. She
+      kept her eyes on her plate, and only consented to taste malt liquor under
+      modest protest. When Jervy lit a cigar, after finishing his supper, she
+      reminded him, in an impressively genteel manner, of the consideration
+      which he owed to the presence of an elderly lady. &ldquo;I like it myself,
+      dear,&rdquo; she said mincingly; &ldquo;but perhaps Mrs. Sowler objects to the smell?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Sowler burst into a hoarse laugh. &ldquo;Do I look as if I was likely to be
+      squeamish about smells?&rdquo; she asked, with the savage contempt for her own
+      poverty, which was one of the dangerous elements in her character. &ldquo;See
+      the place I live in, young woman, and then talk about smells if you like!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This was indelicate. Phoebe picked a last oyster out of its shell, and
+      kept her eyes modestly fixed on her plate. Observing that the second glass
+      of gin-and-water was fast becoming empty, Jervy risked the first advances,
+      on his way to Mrs. Sowler&rsquo;s confidence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;About that debt of Farnaby&rsquo;s?&rdquo; he began. &ldquo;Is it a debt of long standing?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Sowler was on her guard. In other words, Mrs. Sowler&rsquo;s head was only
+      assailable by hot grog, when hot grog was administered in large
+      quantities. She said it was a debt of long standing, and she said no more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has it been standing seven years?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Sowler emptied her glass, and looked hard at Jervy across the table.
+      &ldquo;My memory isn&rsquo;t good for much, at my time of life.&rdquo; She gave him that
+      answer, and she gave him no more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jervy yielded with his best grace. &ldquo;Try a third glass,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;there&rsquo;s
+      luck, you know, in odd numbers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Sowler met this advance in the spirit in which it was made. She was
+      obliging enough to consult her memory, even before the third glass made
+      its appearance. &ldquo;Seven years, did you say?&rdquo; she repeated. &ldquo;More than twice
+      seven years, Jervy! What do you think of that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jervy wasted no time in thinking. He went on with his questions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you quite sure that the man I pointed out to you, at the lecture, is
+      the same man who went by the name of Morgan, and had his letters addressed
+      to the public-house?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quite sure. I&rsquo;d swear to him anywhere&mdash;only by his eyes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And have you never yet asked him to pay the debt?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How could I ask him, when I never knew what his name was till you told me
+      to-night?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What amount of money does he owe you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Whether Mrs. Sowler had her mind prophetically fixed on a fourth glass of
+      grog, or whether she thought it time to begin asking questions on her own
+      account, is not easy to say. Whatever her motive might be, she slyly shook
+      her head, and winked at Jervy. &ldquo;The money&rsquo;s my business,&rdquo; she remarked.
+      &ldquo;You tell me where he lives&mdash;and I&rsquo;ll make him pay me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jervy was equal to the occasion. &ldquo;You won&rsquo;t do anything of the sort,&rdquo; he
+      said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Sowler laughed defiantly. &ldquo;So you think, my fine fellow!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think at all, old lady&mdash;I&rsquo;m certain. In the first place,
+      Farnaby don&rsquo;t owe you the debt by law, after seven years. In the second
+      place, just look at yourself in the glass there. Do you think the servants
+      will let you in, when you knock at Farnaby&rsquo;s door? You want a clever
+      fellow to help you&mdash;or you&rsquo;ll never recover that debt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Sowler was accessible to reason (even half-way through her third
+      glass of grog), when reason was presented to her in convincing terms. She
+      came to the point at once. &ldquo;How much do you want?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing,&rdquo; Jervy answered; &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t look to <i>you</i> to pay my
+      commission.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Sowler reflected a little&mdash;and understood him. &ldquo;Say that again,&rdquo;
+       she insisted, &ldquo;in the presence of your young woman as witness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jervy touched his young woman&rsquo;s hand under the table, warning her to make
+      no objection, and to leave it to him. Having declared for the second time
+      that he would not take a farthing from Mrs. Sowler, he went on with his
+      inquiries.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;m acting in your interests, Mother Sowler,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;and you&rsquo;ll be the
+      loser, if you don&rsquo;t answer my questions patiently, and tell me the truth.
+      I want to go back to the debt. What is it for?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For six weeks&rsquo; keep of a child, at ten shillings a week.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe looked up from her plate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whose child?&rdquo; Jervy asked, noticing the sudden movement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Morgan&rsquo;s child&mdash;the same man you said was Farnaby.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know who the mother was?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish I did! I should have got the money out of her long ago.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jervy stole a look at Phoebe. She had turned pale; she was listening, with
+      her eyes riveted on Mrs. Sowler&rsquo;s ugly face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How long ago was it?&rdquo; Jervy went on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Better than sixteen years.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did Farnaby himself give you the child?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With his own hands, over the garden-paling of a house at Ramsgate. He saw
+      me and the child into the train for London. I had ten pounds from him, and
+      no more. He promised to see me, and settle everything, in a month&rsquo;s time.
+      I have never set eyes on him from that day, till I saw him paying his
+      money this evening at the door of the hall.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jervy stole another look at Phoebe. She was still perfectly unconscious
+      that he was observing her. Her attention was completely absorbed by Mrs.
+      Sowler&rsquo;s replies. Speculating on the possible result, Jervy abandoned the
+      question of the debt, and devoted his next inquiries to the subject of the
+      child.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I promise you every farthing of your money, Mother Sowler,&rdquo; he said,
+      &ldquo;with interest added to it. How old was the child when Farnaby gave it to
+      you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Old? Not a week old, I should say!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not a week old?&rdquo; Jervy repeated, with his eye on Phoebe. &ldquo;Dear, dear me,
+      a newborn baby, one may say!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The girl&rsquo;s excitement was fast getting beyond control. She leaned across
+      the table, in her eagerness to hear more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And how long was this poor child under your care?&rdquo; Jervy went on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How can I tell you, at this distance of time? For some months, I should
+      say. This I&rsquo;m certain of&mdash;I kept it for six good weeks after the ten
+      pounds he gave me were spent. And then&mdash;&rdquo; she stopped, and looked at
+      Phoebe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And then you got rid of it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Sowler felt for Jervy&rsquo;s foot under the table, and gave it a
+      significant kick. &ldquo;I have done nothing to be ashamed of, miss,&rdquo; she said,
+      addressing her answer defiantly to Phoebe. &ldquo;Being too poor to keep the
+      little dear myself, I placed it under the care of a good lady, who adopted
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe could restrain herself no longer. She burst out with the next
+      question, before Jervy could open his lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know where the lady is now?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Mrs. Sowler shortly; &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know where to find the child?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Sowler slowly stirred up the remains of her grog. &ldquo;I know no more
+      than you do. Any more questions, miss?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe&rsquo;s excitement completely blinded her to the evident signs of a
+      change in Mrs. Sowler&rsquo;s temper for the worse. She went on headlong.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you never seen the child since you gave her to the lady?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Sowler set down her glass, just as she was raising it to her lips.
+      Jervy paused, thunderstruck, in the act of lighting a second cigar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <i>&ldquo;Her?&rdquo;</i> Mrs. Sowler repeated slowly, her eyes fixed on Phoebe with a
+      lowering expression of suspicion and surprise. &ldquo;Her?&rdquo; She turned to Jervy.
+      &ldquo;Did you ask me if the child was a girl or a boy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I never even thought of it,&rdquo; Jervy replied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did I happen to say it myself, without being asked?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jervy deliberately abandoned Phoebe to the implacable old wretch, before
+      whom she had betrayed herself. It was the only likely way of forcing the
+      girl to confess everything. &ldquo;No,&rdquo; he answered; &ldquo;you never said it without
+      being asked.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Sowler turned once more to Phoebe. &ldquo;How do you know the child was a
+      girl?&rdquo; she inquired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe trembled, and said nothing. She sat with her head down, and her
+      hands, fast clasped together, resting on her lap.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Might I ask, if you please,&rdquo; Mrs. Sowler proceeded, with a ferocious
+      assumption of courtesy, &ldquo;how old you are, miss? You&rsquo;re young enough and
+      pretty enough not to mind answering to your age, I&rsquo;m sure.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Even Jervy&rsquo;s villainous experience of the world failed to forewarn him of
+      what was coming. Phoebe, it is needless to say, instantly fell into the
+      trap.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Twenty-four,&rdquo; she replied, &ldquo;next birthday.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the child was put into my hands, sixteen years ago,&rdquo; said Mrs.
+      Sowler. &ldquo;Take sixteen from twenty-four, and eight remains. I&rsquo;m more
+      surprised than ever, miss, at your knowing it to be a girl. It couldn&rsquo;t
+      have been your child&mdash;could it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe started to her feet, in a state of fury. &ldquo;Do you hear that?&rdquo; she
+      cried, appealing to Jervy. &ldquo;How dare you bring me here to be insulted by
+      that drunken wretch?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Sowler rose, on her side. The old savage snatched up her empty glass&mdash;intending
+      to throw it at Phoebe. At the same moment, the ready Jervy caught her by
+      the arm, dragged her out of the room, and shut the door behind them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a bench on the landing outside. He pushed Mrs. Sowler down on
+      the bench with one hand, and took Phoebe&rsquo;s purse out of his pocket with
+      the other. &ldquo;Here&rsquo;s a pound,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;towards the recovery of that debt
+      of yours. Go home quietly, and meet me at the door of this house tomorrow
+      evening, at six.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Sowler, opening her lips to protest, suddenly closed them again,
+      fascinated by the sight of the gold. She clutched the coin, and became
+      friendly and familiar in a moment. &ldquo;Help me downstairs, deary,&rdquo; she said,
+      &ldquo;and put me into a cab. I&rsquo;m afraid of the night air.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One word more, before I put you into a cab,&rdquo; said Jervy. &ldquo;What did you
+      really do with the child?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Sowler grinned hideously, and whispered her reply, in the strictest
+      confidence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sold her to Moll Davies, for five-and-sixpence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who was Moll Davis?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A cadger.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you really know nothing now of Moll Davis or the child?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Should I want you to help me if I did?&rdquo; Mrs. Sowler asked contemptuously.
+      &ldquo;They may be both dead and buried, for all I know to the contrary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jervy put her into the cab, without further delay. &ldquo;Now for the other
+      one!&rdquo; he said to himself, as he hurried back to the private room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 5
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Some men would have found it no easy task to console Phoebe, under the
+      circumstances. Jervy had the immense advantage of not feeling the
+      slightest sympathy for her: he was in full command of his large resources
+      of fluent assurance and ready flattery. In less than five minutes,
+      Phoebe&rsquo;s tears were dried, and her lover had his arm round her waist
+      again, in the character of a cherished and forgiven man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, my angel!&rdquo; he said (Phoebe sighed tenderly; he had never called her
+      his angel before), &ldquo;tell me all about it in confidence. Only let me know
+      the facts, and I shall see my way to protecting you against any annoyance
+      from Mrs. Sowler in the future. You have made a very extraordinary
+      discovery. Come closer to me, my dear girl. Did it happen in Farnaby&rsquo;s
+      house?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I heard it in the kitchen,&rdquo; said Phoebe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jervy started. &ldquo;Did any one else hear it?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. They were all in the housekeeper&rsquo;s room, looking at the Indian
+      curiosities which her son in Canada had sent to her. I had left my bird on
+      the dresser&mdash;and I ran into the kitchen to put the cage in a safe
+      place, being afraid of the cat. One of the swinging windows in the
+      skylight was open; and I heard voices in the back room above, which is
+      Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whose voices did you hear?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s voice, and Mr. Goldenheart&rsquo;s.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mrs. Farnaby?&rdquo; Jervy repeated, in surprise. &ldquo;Are you sure it was <i>Mrs.?&rdquo;</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course I am! Do you think I don&rsquo;t know that horrid woman&rsquo;s voice? She
+      was saying a most extraordinary thing when I first heard her&mdash;she was
+      asking if there was anything wrong in showing her naked foot. And a man
+      answered, and the voice was Mr. Goldenheart&rsquo;s. You would have felt curious
+      to hear more, if you had been in my place, wouldn&rsquo;t you? I opened the
+      second window in the kitchen, so as to make sure of not missing anything.
+      And what do you think I heard her say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean Mrs. Farnaby?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. I heard her say, &lsquo;Look at my right foot&mdash;you see there&rsquo;s
+      nothing the matter with it.&rsquo; And then, after a while, she said, &lsquo;Look at
+      my left foot&mdash;look between the third toe and the fourth.&rsquo; Did you
+      ever hear of such a audacious thing for a married woman to say to a young
+      man?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go on! go on! What did <i>he</i> say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing; I suppose he was looking at her foot.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Her left foot?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. Her left foot was nothing to be proud of, I can tell you! By her own
+      account, she has some horrid deformity in it, between the third toe and
+      the fourth. No; I didn&rsquo;t hear her say what the deformity was. I only heard
+      her call it so&mdash;and she said her &lsquo;poor darling&rsquo; was born with the
+      same fault, and that was her defence against being imposed upon by rogues&mdash;I
+      remember the very words&mdash;&lsquo;in the past days when I employed people to
+      find her.&rsquo; Yes! she said <i>&lsquo;her.&lsquo;</i> I heard it plainly. And she talked
+      afterwards of her &lsquo;poor lost daughter&rsquo;, who might be still living
+      somewhere, and wondering who her mother was. Naturally enough, when I
+      heard that hateful old drunkard talking about a child given to her by Mr.
+      Farnaby, I put two and two together. Dear me, how strangely you look!
+      What&rsquo;s wrong with you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;m only very much interested&mdash;that&rsquo;s all. But there&rsquo;s one thing I
+      don&rsquo;t understand. What had Mr. Goldenheart to do with all this?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Didn&rsquo;t I tell you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then, I tell you now. Mrs. Farnaby is not only a heartless wretch,
+      who turns a poor girl out of her situation, and refuses to give her a
+      character&mdash;she&rsquo;s a fool besides. That precious exhibition of her
+      nasty foot was to inform Mr. Goldenheart of something she wanted him to
+      know. If he happened to meet with a girl, in his walks or his travels, and
+      if he found that she had the same deformity in the same foot, then he
+      might know for certain&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right! I understand. But why Mr. Goldenheart?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because she had a dream that Mr. Goldenheart had found the lost girl, and
+      because she thought there was one chance in a hundred that her dream might
+      come true! Did you ever hear of such a fool before? From what I could make
+      out, I believe she actually cried about it. And that same woman turns me
+      into the street to be ruined, for all she knows or cares. Mind this! I
+      would have kept her secret&mdash;it was no business of mine, after all&mdash;if
+      she had behaved decently to me. As it is, I mean to be even with her; and
+      what I heard down in the kitchen is more than enough to help me to it.
+      I&rsquo;ll expose her somehow&mdash;I don&rsquo;t quite know how; but that will come
+      with time. You will keep the secret, dear, I&rsquo;m sure. We are soon to have
+      all our secrets in common, when we are man and wife, ain&rsquo;t we? Why, you&rsquo;re
+      not listening to me! What <i>is</i> the matter with you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jervy suddenly looked up. His soft insinuating manner had vanished; he
+      spoke roughly and impatiently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I want to know something. Has Farnaby&rsquo;s wife got money of her own?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe&rsquo;s mind was still disturbed by the change in her lover. &ldquo;You speak
+      as if you were angry with me,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jervy recovered his insinuating tones, with some difficulty. &ldquo;My dear
+      girl, I love you! How can I be angry with you? You&rsquo;ve set me thinking&mdash;and
+      it bothers me a little, that&rsquo;s all. Do you happen to know if Mrs. Farnaby
+      has got money of her own?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe answered this time. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve heard Miss Regina say that Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s
+      father was a rich man,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What was his name?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ronald.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know when he died?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jervy fell into thought again, biting his nails in great perplexity. After
+      a moment or two, an idea came to him. &ldquo;The tombstone will tell me!&rdquo; he
+      exclaimed, speaking to himself. He turned to Phoebe, before she could
+      express her surprise, and asked if she knew where Mr. Ronald was buried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Phoebe, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve heard that. In Highgate cemetery. But why do you
+      want to know?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jervy looked at his watch. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s getting late,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll see you
+      safe home.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I want to know&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Put on your bonnet, and wait till we are out in the street.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jervy paid the bill, with all needful remembrance of the waiter. He was
+      generous, he was polite; but he was apparently in no hurry to favour
+      Phoebe with the explanation that he had promised. They had left the tavern
+      for some minutes&mdash;and he was still rude enough to remain absorbed in
+      his own reflections. Phoebe&rsquo;s patience gave way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have told you everything,&rdquo; she said reproachfully; &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t call it
+      fair dealing to keep me in the dark after that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He roused himself directly. &ldquo;My dear girl, you entirely mistake me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The reply was as ready as usual; but it was spoken rather absently. Only
+      that moment, he had decided on informing Phoebe (to some extent, at least)
+      of the purpose which he was then meditating. He would infinitely have
+      preferred using Mrs. Sowler as his sole accomplice. But he knew the girl
+      too well to run that risk. If he refused to satisfy her curiosity, she
+      would be deterred by no scruples of delicacy from privately watching him;
+      and she might say something (either by word of month or by writing) to the
+      kind young mistress who was in correspondence with her, which might lead
+      to disastrous results. It was of the last importance to him, so far to
+      associate Phoebe with his projected enterprise, as to give her an interest
+      of her own in keeping his secrets.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have not the least wish,&rdquo; he resumed, &ldquo;to conceal any thing from you.
+      So far as I can see my way at present, you shall see it too.&rdquo; Reserving in
+      this dexterous manner the freedom of lying, whenever he found it necessary
+      to depart from the truth, he smiled encouragingly, and waited to be
+      questioned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe repeated the inquiry she had made at the tavern. &ldquo;Why do you want
+      to know where Mr. Ronald is buried?&rdquo; she asked bluntly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Ronald&rsquo;s tombstone, my dear, will tell me the date of Mr. Ronald&rsquo;s
+      death,&rdquo; Jervy rejoined. &ldquo;When I have got the date, I shall go to a place
+      near St. Paul&rsquo;s, called Doctors&rsquo; Commons; I shall pay a shilling fee, and
+      I shall have the privilege of looking at Mr. Ronald&rsquo;s will.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what good will that do you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very properly put, Phoebe! Even shillings are not to be wasted, in our
+      position. But my shilling will buy two sixpennyworths of information. I
+      shall find out what sum of money Mr. Ronald has left to his daughter; and
+      I shall know for certain whether Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s husband has any power over
+      it, or not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo; said Phoebe, not much interested so far&mdash;&ldquo;and what then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jervy looked about him. They were in a crowded thoroughfare at the time.
+      He preserved a discreet silence, until they had arrived at the first
+      turning which led down a quiet street.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What I have to tell you,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;must not be accidentally heard by
+      anybody. Here, my dear, we are all but out of the world&mdash;and here I
+      can speak to you safely. I promise you two good things. You shall bring
+      Mrs. Farnaby to that day of reckoning; and we will find money enough to
+      marry on comfortably as soon as you like.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe&rsquo;s languid interest in the subject began to revive: she insisted on
+      having a clearer explanation than this. &ldquo;Do you mean to get the money out
+      of Mr. Farnaby?&rdquo; she inquired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will have nothing to do with Mr. Farnaby&mdash;unless I find that his
+      wife&rsquo;s money is not at her own disposal. What you heard in the kitchen has
+      altered all my plans. Wait a minute&mdash;and you will see what I am
+      driving at. How much do you think Mrs. Farnaby would give me, if I found
+      that lost daughter of hers?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe suddenly stood still, and looked at the sordid scoundrel who was
+      tempting her in blank amazement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But nobody knows where the daughter is,&rdquo; she objected.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You and I know that the daughter has a deformity in her left foot,&rdquo; Jervy
+      replied; &ldquo;and you and I know exactly in what part of the foot it is.
+      There&rsquo;s not only money to be made out of that knowledge&mdash;but money
+      made easily, without the slightest risk. Suppose I managed the matter by
+      correspondence, without appearing in it personally? Don&rsquo;t you think Mrs.
+      Farnaby would open her purse beforehand, if I mentioned the exact position
+      of that little deformity, as a proof that I was to be depended on?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe was unable, or unwilling, to draw the obvious conclusion, even now.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, what would you do,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;when Mrs. Farnaby insisted on seeing
+      her daughter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was something in the girl&rsquo;s tone&mdash;half fearful, half suspicious&mdash;which
+      warned Jervy that he was treading on dangerous ground. He knew perfectly
+      well what he proposed to do, in the case that had been so plainly put him.
+      It was the simplest thing in the world. He had only to make an appointment
+      with Mrs. Farnaby for a meeting on a future day, and to take to flight in
+      the interval; leaving a polite note behind him to say that it was all a
+      mistake, and that he regretted being too poor to return the money. Having
+      thus far acknowledged the design he had in view, could he still venture on
+      answering his companion without reserve? Phoebe was vain, Phoebe was
+      vindictive; and, more promising still, Phoebe was a fool. But she was not
+      yet capable of consenting to an act of the vilest infamy, in cold blood.
+      Jervy looked at her&mdash;and saw that the foreseen necessity for lying
+      had come at last.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s just the difficulty,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;that&rsquo;s just where I don&rsquo;t see my
+      way plainly yet. Can you advise me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe started, and drew back from him. <i>&ldquo;I</i> advise you!&rdquo; she
+      exclaimed. &ldquo;It frightens me to think of it. If you make her believe she is
+      going to see her daughter, and if she finds out that you have robbed and
+      deceived her, I can tell you this&mdash;with her furious temper&mdash;you
+      would drive her mad.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jervy&rsquo;s reply was a model of well-acted indignation. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t talk of
+      anything so horrible,&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;If you believe me capable of such
+      cruelty as that, go to Mrs. Farnaby, and warn her at once!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s too bad to speak to me in that way!&rdquo; Phoebe rejoined, with the frank
+      impetuosity of an offended woman. &ldquo;You know I would die, rather than get
+      you into trouble. Beg my pardon directly&mdash;or I won&rsquo;t walk another
+      step with you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jervy made the necessary apologies, with all possible humility. He had
+      gained his end&mdash;he could now postpone any further discussion of the
+      subject, without arousing Phoebe&rsquo;s distrust. &ldquo;Let us say no more about it,
+      for the present,&rdquo; he suggested; &ldquo;we will think it over, and talk of
+      pleasanter things in the mean time. Kiss me, my dear girl; there&rsquo;s nobody
+      looking.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      So he made peace with his sweetheart, and secured to himself, at the same
+      time, the full liberty of future action of which he stood in need. If
+      Phoebe asked any more questions, the necessary answer was obvious to the
+      meanest capacity. He had merely to say, &ldquo;The matter is beset with
+      difficulties which I didn&rsquo;t see at first&mdash;I have given it up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Their nearest way back to Phoebe&rsquo;s lodgings took them through the street
+      which led to the Hampden Institution. Passing along the opposite side of
+      the road, they saw the private door opened. Two men stepped out. A third
+      man, inside, called after one of them. &ldquo;Mr. Goldenheart! you have left the
+      statement of receipts in the waiting-room.&rdquo; &ldquo;Never mind,&rdquo; Amelius
+      answered; &ldquo;the night&rsquo;s receipts are so small that I would rather not be
+      reminded of them again.&rdquo; &ldquo;In my country,&rdquo; a third voice remarked, &ldquo;if he
+      had lectured as he has lectured to-night, I reckon I&rsquo;d have given him
+      three hundred dollars, gold (sixty pounds, English currency), and have
+      made my own profit by the transaction. The British nation has lost its
+      taste, sir, for intellectual recreation. I wish you good evening.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jervy hurried Phoebe out of the way, just as the two gentlemen were
+      crossing the street. He had not forgotten events at Tadmor&mdash;and he
+      was by no means eager to renew his former acquaintance with Amelius.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 6
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Rufus and his young friend walked together silently as far as a large
+      square. Here they stopped, having reached the point at which it was
+      necessary to take different directions on their way home.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve a word of advice, my son, for your private ear,&rdquo; said the New
+      Englander. &ldquo;The barometer behind your waistcoat points to a downhearted
+      state of the moral atmosphere. Come along to home with me&mdash;you want a
+      whisky cocktail badly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, thank you, my dear fellow,&rdquo; Amelius answered a little sadly. &ldquo;I own
+      I&rsquo;m downhearted, as you say. You see, I expected this lecture to be a new
+      opening for me. Personally, as you know, I don&rsquo;t care two straws about
+      money. But my marriage depends on my adding to my income; and the first
+      attempt I&rsquo;ve made to do it has ended in a total failure. I&rsquo;m all abroad
+      again, when I look to the future&mdash;and I&rsquo;m afraid I&rsquo;m fool enough to
+      let it weigh on my spirits. No, the cocktail isn&rsquo;t the right remedy for
+      me. I don&rsquo;t get the exercise and fresh air, here, that I used to get at
+      Tadmor. My head burns after all that talking to-night. A good long walk
+      will put me right, and nothing else will.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus at once offered to accompany him. Amelius shook his head. &ldquo;Did you
+      ever walk a mile in your life, when you could ride?&rdquo; he asked
+      good-humouredly. &ldquo;I mean to be on my legs for four or five hours; I should
+      only have to send you home in a cab. Thank you, old fellow, for the
+      brotherly interest you take in me. I&rsquo;ll breakfast with you to-morrow, at
+      your hotel. Good night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Some curious prevision of evil seemed to trouble the mind of the good New
+      Englander. He held Amelius fast by the hand: he said, very earnestly, &ldquo;It
+      goes against the grit with me to see you wandering off by yourself at this
+      time of night&mdash;it does, I tell you! Do me a favour for once, my
+      bright boy&mdash;go right away to bed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius laughed, and released his hand. &ldquo;I shouldn&rsquo;t sleep, if I did go to
+      bed. Breakfast to-morrow, at ten o&rsquo;clock. Goodnight, again!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He started on his walk, at a pace which set pursuit on the part of Rufus
+      at defiance. The American stood watching him, until he was lost to sight
+      in the darkness. &ldquo;What a grip that young fellow has got on me, in no more
+      than a few months!&rdquo; Rufus thought, as he slowly turned away in the
+      direction of his hotel. &ldquo;Lord send the poor boy may keep clear of mischief
+      this night!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Meanwhile, Amelius walked on swiftly, straight before him, careless in
+      what direction he turned his steps, so long as he felt the cool air and
+      kept moving.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His thoughts were not at first occupied with the doubtful question of his
+      marriage; the lecture was still the uppermost subject in his mind. He had
+      reserved for the conclusion of his address the justification of his view
+      of the future, afforded by the widespread and frightful poverty among the
+      millions of the population of London alone. On this melancholy theme he
+      had spoken with the eloquence of true feeling, and had produced a strong
+      impression, even on those members of the audience who were most resolutely
+      opposed to the opinions which he advocated. Without any undue exercise of
+      self-esteem, he could look back on the close of his lecture with the
+      conviction that he had really done justice to himself and to his cause.
+      The retrospect of the public discussion that had followed failed to give
+      him the same pleasure. His warm temper, his vehemently sincere belief in
+      the truth of his own convictions, placed him at a serious disadvantage
+      towards the more self-restrained speakers (all older than himself) who
+      rose, one after another, to combat his views. More than once he had lost
+      his temper, and had been obliged to make his apologies. More than once he
+      had been indebted to the ready help of Rufus, who had taken part in the
+      battle of words, with the generous purpose of covering his retreat. &ldquo;No!&rdquo;
+       he thought to himself, with bitter humility, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m not fit for public
+      discussions. If they put me into Parliament tomorrow, I should only get
+      called to order and do nothing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He reached the bank of the Thames, at the eastward end of the Strand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Walking straight on, as absently as ever, he crossed Waterloo Bridge, and
+      followed the broad street that lay before him on the other side. He was
+      thinking of the future again: Regina was in his mind now. The one prospect
+      that he could see of a tranquil and happy life&mdash;with duties as well
+      as pleasures; duties that might rouse him to find the vocation for which
+      he was fit&mdash;was the prospect of his marriage. What was the obstacle
+      that stood in his way? The vile obstacle of money; the contemptible spirit
+      of ostentation which forbade him to live humbly on his own sufficient
+      little income, and insisted that he should purchase domestic happiness at
+      the price of the tawdry splendour of a rich tradesman and his friends. And
+      Regina, who was free to follow her own better impulses&mdash;Regina, whose
+      heart acknowledged him as its master&mdash;bowed before the golden image
+      which was the tutelary deity of her uncle&rsquo;s household, and said
+      resignedly, Love must wait!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Still walking blindly on, he was roused on a sudden to a sense of passing
+      events. Crossing a side-street at the moment, a man caught him roughly by
+      the arm, and saved him from being run over. The man had a broom in his
+      hand; he was a crossing-sweeper. &ldquo;I think I&rsquo;ve earned my penny, sir!&rdquo; he
+      said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius gave him half-a-crown. The man shouldered his broom, and tossed up
+      the money, in a transport of delight. &ldquo;Here&rsquo;s something to go home with!&rdquo;
+       he cried, as he caught the half-crown again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you got a family at home?&rdquo; Amelius asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only one, sir,&rdquo; said the man. &ldquo;The others are all dead. She&rsquo;s as good a
+      girl and as pretty a girl as ever put on a petticoat&mdash;though I say it
+      that shouldn&rsquo;t. Thank you kindly, sir. Good night!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius looked after the poor fellow, happy at least for that night! &ldquo;If I
+      had only been lucky enough to fall in love with the crossing-sweeper&rsquo;s
+      daughter,&rdquo; he thought bitterly, <i>&ldquo;she</i> would have married me when I
+      asked her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked along the street. It curved away in the distance, with no
+      visible limit to it. Arrived at the next side-street on his left, Amelius
+      turned down it, weary of walking longer in the same direction. Whither it
+      might lead him he neither knew nor cared. In his present humour it was a
+      pleasurable sensation to feel himself lost in London.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The short street suddenly widened; a blaze of flaring gaslight dazzled his
+      eyes; he heard all round him the shouting of innumerable voices. For the
+      first time since he had been in London, he found himself in one of the
+      street-markets of the poor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On either side of the road, the barrows of the costermongers&mdash;the
+      wandering tradesmen of the highway&mdash;were drawn up in rows; and every
+      man was advertising his wares, by means of the cheap publicity of his own
+      voice. Fish and vegetables; pottery and writing-paper; looking-glasses,
+      saucepans, and coloured prints&mdash;all appealed together to the scantily
+      filled purses of the crowds who thronged the pavement. One lusty vagabond
+      stood up in a rickety donkey-cart, knee-deep in apples, selling a great
+      wooden measure full for a penny, and yelling louder than all the rest.
+      &ldquo;Never was such apples sold in the public streets before! Sweet as
+      flowers, and sound as a bell. Who says the poor ain&rsquo;t looked after,&rdquo; cried
+      the fellow, with ferocious irony, &ldquo;when they can have such apple-sauce as
+      this to their loin of pork? Here&rsquo;s nobby apples; here&rsquo;s a penn&rsquo;orth for
+      your money. Sold again! Hullo, you! you look hungry. Catch! there&rsquo;s an
+      apple for nothing, just to taste. Be in time, be in time before they&rsquo;re
+      all sold!&rdquo; Amelius moved forward a few steps, and was half deafened by
+      rival butchers, shouting, &ldquo;Buy, buy, buy!&rdquo; to audiences of ragged women,
+      who fingered the meat doubtfully, with longing eyes. A little farther&mdash;and
+      there was a blind man selling staylaces, and singing a Psalm; and, beyond
+      him again, a broken-down soldier playing &ldquo;God save the Queen&rdquo; on a tin
+      flageolet. The one silent person in this sordid carnival was a Lascar
+      beggar, with a printed placard round his neck, addressed to &ldquo;The
+      Charitable Public.&rdquo; He held a tallow candle to illuminate the copious
+      narrative of his misfortunes; and the one reader he obtained was a fat
+      man, who scratched his head, and remarked to Amelius that he didn&rsquo;t like
+      foreigners. Starving boys and girls lurked among the costermongers&rsquo; 
+      barrows, and begged piteously on pretence of selling cigar-lights and
+      comic songs. Furious women stood at the doors of public-houses, and railed
+      on their drunken husbands for spending the house-money in gin. A thicker
+      crowd, towards the middle of the street, poured in and out at the door of
+      a cookshop. Here the people presented a less terrible spectacle&mdash;they
+      were even touching to see. These were the patient poor, who bought hot
+      morsels of sheep&rsquo;s heart and liver at a penny an ounce, with lamentable
+      little mouthfuls of peas-pudding, greens, and potatoes at a halfpenny
+      each. Pale children in corners supped on penny basins of soup, and looked
+      with hungry admiration at their enviable neighbours who could afford to
+      buy stewed eels for twopence. Everywhere there was the same noble
+      resignation to their hard fate, in old and young alike. No impatience, no
+      complaints. In this wretched place, the language of true gratitude was
+      still to be heard, thanking the good-natured cook for a little spoonful of
+      gravy thrown in for nothing&mdash;and here, humble mercy that had its one
+      superfluous halfpenny to spare gave that halfpenny to utter destitution,
+      and gave it with right good-will. Amelius spent all his shillings and
+      sixpences, in doubling and trebling the poor little pennyworths of food&mdash;and
+      left the place with tears in his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was near the end of the street by this time. The sight of the misery
+      about him, and the sense of his own utter inability to remedy it, weighed
+      heavily on his spirits. He thought of the peaceful and prosperous life at
+      Tadmor. Were his happy brethren of the Community and these miserable
+      people about him creatures of the same all-merciful God? The terrible
+      doubts which come to all thinking men&mdash;the doubts which are not to be
+      stifled by crying &ldquo;Oh, fie!&rdquo; in a pulpit&mdash;rose darkly in his mind. He
+      quickened his pace. &ldquo;Let me let out of it,&rdquo; he said to himself, &ldquo;let me
+      get out of it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0029" id="link2H_4_0029">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      BOOK THE SIXTH. FILIA DOLOROSA
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 1
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Amelius found it no easy matter to pass quickly through the people
+      loitering and gossiping about him. There was greater freedom for a rapid
+      walker in the road. He was on the point of stepping off the pavement, when
+      a voice behind him&mdash;a sweet soft voice, though it spoke very faintly&mdash;said,
+      &ldquo;Are you good-natured, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He turned, and found himself face to face with one of the saddest
+      sisterhood on earth&mdash;the sisterhood of the streets.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His heart ached as he looked at her, she was so poor and so young. The
+      lost creature had, to all appearance, barely passed the boundary between
+      childhood and girlhood&mdash;she could hardly be more than fifteen or
+      sixteen years old. Her eyes, of the purest and loveliest blue, rested on
+      Amelius with a vacantly patient look, like the eyes of a suffering child.
+      The soft oval outline of her face would have been perfect if the cheeks
+      had been filled out; they were wasted and hollow, and sadly pale. Her
+      delicate lips had none of the rosy colour of youth; and her finely
+      modelled chin was disfigured by a piece of plaster covering some injury.
+      She was little and thin; her worn and scanty clothing showed her frail
+      youthful figure still waiting for its perfection of growth. Her pretty
+      little bare hands were reddened by the raw night air. She trembled as
+      Amelius looked at her in silence, with compassionate wonder. But for the
+      words in which she had accosted him, it would have been impossible to
+      associate her with the lamentable life that she led. The appearance of the
+      girl was artlessly virginal and innocent; she looked as if she had passed
+      through the contamination of the streets without being touched by it,
+      without fearing it, or feeling it, or understanding it. Robed in pure
+      white, with her gentle blue eyes raised to heaven, a painter might have
+      shown her on his canvas as a saint or an angel; and the critical world
+      would have said, Here is the true ideal&mdash;Raphael himself might have
+      painted this!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You look very pale,&rdquo; said Amelius. &ldquo;Are you ill?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir&mdash;only hungry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her eyes half closed; she reeled from sheer weakness as she said the
+      words. Amelius held her up, and looked round him. They were close to a
+      stall at which coffee and slices of bread-and-butter were sold. He ordered
+      some coffee to be poured out, and offered her the food. She thanked him
+      and tried to eat. &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t help it, sir,&rdquo; she said faintly. The bread
+      dropped from her hand; her weary head sank on his shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Two young women&mdash;older members of the sad sisterhood&mdash;were
+      passing at the moment. &ldquo;She&rsquo;s too far gone, sir, to eat,&rdquo; said one of
+      them. &ldquo;I know what would do her good, if you don&rsquo;t mind going into a
+      public-house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where is it?&rdquo; said Amelius. &ldquo;Be quick!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      One of the women led the way. The other helped Amelius to support the
+      girl. They entered the crowded public-house. In less than a minute, the
+      first woman had forced her way through the drunken customers at the bar,
+      and had returned with a glass of port-wine and cloves. The girl revived as
+      the stimulant passed her lips. She opened her innocent blue eyes again, in
+      vague surprise. &ldquo;I shan&rsquo;t die this time,&rdquo; she said quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A corner of the place was not occupied; a small empty cask stood there.
+      Amelius made the poor creature sit down and rest a little. He had only
+      gold in his purse; and, when the woman had paid for the wine, he offered
+      her some of the change. She declined to take it. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve got a shilling or
+      two, sir,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;and I can take care of myself. Give it to Simple
+      Sally.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&rsquo;ll save her a beating, sir, for one night at least,&rdquo; said the other
+      woman. &ldquo;We call her Simple Sally, because she&rsquo;s a little soft, poor soul&mdash;hasn&rsquo;t
+      grown up, you know, in her mind, since she was a child. Give her some of
+      your change, sir, and you&rsquo;ll be doing a kind thing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      All that is most unselfish, all that is most divinely compassionate and
+      self-sacrificing in a woman&rsquo;s nature, was as beautiful and as undefiled as
+      ever in these women&mdash;the outcasts of the hard highway!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius turned to the girl. Her head had sunk on her bosom; she was half
+      asleep. She looked up as he approached her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would you have been beaten to-night,&rdquo; he asked, &ldquo;if you had not met with
+      me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Father always beats me, sir,&rdquo; said Simple Sally, &ldquo;if I don&rsquo;t bring money
+      home. He threw a knife at me last night. It didn&rsquo;t hurt much&mdash;it only
+      cut me here,&rdquo; said the girl, pointing to the plaster on her chin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One of the women touched Amelius on the shoulder, and whispered to him.
+      &ldquo;He&rsquo;s no more her father, sir, than I am. She&rsquo;s a helpless creature&mdash;and
+      he takes advantage of her. If I only had a place to take her to, he should
+      never set eyes on her again. Show the gentleman your bosom, Sally.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She opened her poor threadbare little shawl. Over the lovely girlish
+      breast, still only growing to the rounded beauty of womanhood, there was a
+      hideous blue-black bruise. Simple Sally smiled, and said, &ldquo;That <i>did</i>
+      hurt me, sir. I&rsquo;d rather have the knife.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Some of the nearest drinkers at the bar looked round and laughed. Amelius
+      tenderly drew the shawl over the girl&rsquo;s cold bosom. &ldquo;For God&rsquo;s sake, let
+      us get away from this place!&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The influence of the cool night air completed Simple Sally&rsquo;s recovery. She
+      was able to eat now. Amelius proposed retracing his steps to the
+      provision-shop, and giving her the best food that the place afforded. She
+      preferred the bread-and-butter at the coffee-stall. Those thick slices,
+      piled up on the plate, tempted her as a luxury. On trying the luxury, one
+      slice satisfied her. &ldquo;I thought I was hungry enough to eat the whole
+      plateful,&rdquo; said the girl, turning away from the stall, in the vacantly
+      submissive manner which it saddened Amelius to see. He bought more of the
+      bread-and-butter, on the chance that her appetite might revive. While he
+      was wrapping it in a morsel of paper, one of her elder companions touched
+      him and whispered, &ldquo;There he is, sir!&rdquo; Amelius looked at her. &ldquo;The brute
+      who calls himself her father,&rdquo; the woman explained impatiently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius turned, and saw Simple Sally with her arm in the grasp of a
+      half-drunken ruffian; one of the swarming wild beasts of Low London,
+      dirtied down from head to foot to the colour of the street mud&mdash;the
+      living danger and disgrace of English civilization. As Amelius eyed him,
+      he drew the girl away a step or two. &ldquo;You&rsquo;ve got a gentleman this time,&rdquo;
+       he said to her; &ldquo;I shall expect gold to-night, or else&mdash;!&rdquo; He
+      finished the sentence by lifting his monstrous fist, and shaking it in her
+      face. Cautiously as he had lowered his tones in speaking, the words had
+      reached the keenly sensitive ears of Amelius. Urged by his hot temper, he
+      sprang forward. In another moment, he would have knocked the brute down&mdash;but
+      for the timely interference of the arm of the law, clad in a policeman&rsquo;s
+      great-coat. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t get yourself into trouble, sir,&rdquo; said the man
+      good-humouredly. &ldquo;Now, you Hell-fire (that&rsquo;s the nice name they know him
+      by, sir, in these parts), be off with you!&rdquo; The wild beast on two legs
+      cowered at the voice of authority, like the wild beast on four: he was
+      lost to sight, at the dark end of the street, in a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I saw him threaten her with his fist,&rdquo; said Amelius, his eyes still
+      aflame with indignation. &ldquo;He has bruised her frightfully on the breast. Is
+      there no protection for the poor creature?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, sir,&rdquo; the policeman answered, &ldquo;you can summon him if you like. I
+      dare say he&rsquo;d get a month&rsquo;s hard labour. But, don&rsquo;t you see, it would be
+      all the worse for her when he came out of prison.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The policeman&rsquo;s view of the girl&rsquo;s position was beyond dispute. Amelius
+      turned to her gently; she was shivering with cold or terror, perhaps with
+      both. &ldquo;Tell me,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;is that man really your father?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lord bless you, sir!&rdquo; interposed the policeman, astonished at the
+      gentleman&rsquo;s simplicity, &ldquo;Simple Sally hasn&rsquo;t got father or mother&mdash;have
+      you, my girl?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She paid no heed to the policeman. The sorrow and sympathy, plainly
+      visible in Amelius, filled her with a childish interest and surprise. She
+      dimly understood that it was sorrow and sympathy for <i>her.</i> The bare
+      idea of distressing this new friend, so unimaginably kind and considerate,
+      seemed to frighten her. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t fret about <i>me,</i> sir,&rdquo; she said
+      timidly; &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t mind having no father nor mother; I don&rsquo;t mind being
+      beaten.&rdquo; She appealed to the nearest of her two women-friends. &ldquo;We get
+      used to everything, don&rsquo;t we, Jenny?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius could bear no more. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s enough to break one&rsquo;s heart to hear you,
+      and see you!&rdquo; he burst out&mdash;and suddenly turned his head aside. His
+      generous nature was touched to the quick; he could only control himself by
+      an effort of resolution that shook him, body and soul. &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t and won&rsquo;t
+      let that unfortunate creature go back to be beaten and starved!&rdquo; he said,
+      passionately addressing himself to the policeman. &ldquo;Oh, look at her! How
+      helpless, and how young!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The policeman stared. These were strange words to him. But all true
+      emotion carries with it, among all true people, its own title to respect.
+      He spoke to Amelius with marked respect.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a hard case, sir, no doubt,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;The girl&rsquo;s a quiet,
+      well-disposed creature&mdash;and the other two there are the same. They&rsquo;re
+      of the sort that keep to themselves, and don&rsquo;t drink. They all of them do
+      well enough, as long as they don&rsquo;t let the liquor overcome them. Half the
+      time it&rsquo;s the men&rsquo;s fault when they do drink. Perhaps the workhouse might
+      take her in for the night. What&rsquo;s this you&rsquo;ve got girl, in your hand?
+      Money?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius hastened to say that he had given her the money. &ldquo;The workhouse!&rdquo;
+       he repeated. &ldquo;The very sound of it is horrible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Make your mind easy, sir,&rdquo; said the policeman; &ldquo;they won&rsquo;t take her in at
+      the workhouse, with money in her hand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In sheer despair, Amelius asked helplessly if there was no hotel near. The
+      policeman pointed to Simple Sally&rsquo;s threadbare and scanty clothes, and
+      left them to answer the question for themselves. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s a place they
+      call a coffee-house,&rdquo; he said, with the air of a man who thought he had
+      better provoke as little further inquiry on that subject as possible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Too completely pre-occupied, or too innocent in the ways of London, to
+      understand the man, Amelius decided on trying the coffee-house. A
+      suspicious old woman met them at the door, and spied the policeman in the
+      background. Without waiting for any inquiries, she said, &ldquo;All full for
+      to-night,&rdquo;&mdash;and shut the door in their faces.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is there no other place?&rdquo; said Amelius.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There&rsquo;s a lodging-house,&rdquo; the policeman answered, more doubtfully than
+      ever. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s getting late, sir; and I&rsquo;m afraid you&rsquo;ll find &lsquo;em packed like
+      herrings in a barrel. Come, and see for yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He led the way into a wretchedly lighted by-street, and knocked with his
+      foot on a trap-door in the pavement. The door was pushed open from below,
+      by a sturdy boy with a dirty night-cap on his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Any of &lsquo;em wanted to-night, sir?&rdquo; asked the sturdy boy, the moment he saw
+      the policeman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What does he mean?&rdquo; said Amelius.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There&rsquo;s a sprinkling of thieves among them, sir,&rdquo; the policeman
+      explained. &ldquo;Stand out of the way, Jacob, and let the gentleman look in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He produced his lantern, and directed the light downwards, as he spoke.
+      Amelius looked in. The policeman&rsquo;s figure of speech, likening the lodgers
+      to &ldquo;herrings in a barrel,&rdquo; accurately described the scene. On the floor of
+      a kitchen, men, women, and children lay all huddled together in closely
+      packed rows. Ghastly faces rose terrified out of the seething obscurity,
+      when the light of the lantern fell on them. The stench drove Amelius back,
+      sickened and shuddering.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How&rsquo;s the sore place on your head, Jacob?&rdquo; the policeman inquired. &ldquo;This
+      is a civil boy,&rdquo; he explained to Amelius, &ldquo;and I like to encourage him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;m getting better, sir, as fast as I can,&rdquo; said the boy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good night, Jacob.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good night, sir.&rdquo; The trap-door fell&mdash;and the lodging-house
+      disappeared like the vision of a frightful dream.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a moment of silence among the little group on the pavement. It
+      was not easy to solve the question of what to do next. &ldquo;There seems to be
+      some difficulty,&rdquo; the policeman remarked, &ldquo;about housing this girl for the
+      night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why shouldn&rsquo;t we take her along with us?&rdquo; one of the women suggested.
+      &ldquo;She won&rsquo;t mind sleeping three in a bed, I know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are you thinking of?&rdquo; the other woman remonstrated. &ldquo;When he finds
+      she don&rsquo;t come home, our place will be the first place he looks for her
+      in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius settled the difficulty, in his own headlong way, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll take care
+      of her for the night,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Sally, will you trust yourself with me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She put her hand in his, with the air of a child who was ready to go home.
+      Her wan face brightened for the first time. &ldquo;Thank you, sir,&rdquo; she said;
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll go anywhere along with you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The policeman smiled. The two women looked thunderstruck. Before they had
+      recovered themselves, Amelius forced them to take some money from him, and
+      cordially shook hands with them. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re good creatures,&rdquo; he said, in his
+      eager, hearty way; &ldquo;I&rsquo;m sincerely sorry for you. Now, Mr. Policeman, show
+      me where to find a cab&mdash;and take that for the trouble I am giving
+      you. You&rsquo;re a humane man, and a credit to the force.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In five minutes more, Amelius was on the way to his lodgings, with Simple
+      Sally by his side. The act of reckless imprudence which he was committing
+      was nothing but an act of Christian duty, to his mind. Not the slightest
+      misgiving troubled him. &ldquo;I shall provide for her in some way!&rdquo; he thought
+      to himself cheerfully. He looked at her. The weary outcast was asleep
+      already in her corner of the cab. From time to time she still shivered,
+      even in her sleep. Amelius took off his great-coat, and covered her with
+      it. How some of his friends at the club would have laughed, if they had
+      seen him at that moment!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was obliged to wake her when the cab stopped. His key admitted them to
+      the house. He lit his candle in the hall, and led her up the stairs.
+      &ldquo;You&rsquo;ll soon be asleep again, Sally,&rdquo; he whispered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked round the little sitting-room with drowsy admiration. &ldquo;What a
+      pretty place to live in!&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you hungry again?&rdquo; Amelius asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She shook her head, and took off her shabby bonnet; her pretty light-brown
+      hair fell about her face and her shoulders. &ldquo;I think I&rsquo;m too tired, sir,
+      to be hungry. Might I take the sofa-pillow, and lay down on the
+      hearth-rug?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius opened the door of his bedroom. &ldquo;You are to pass the night more
+      comfortably than that,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;There is a bed for you here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She followed him in, and looked round the bedroom, with renewed admiration
+      of everything that she saw. At the sight of the hairbrushes and the comb,
+      she clapped her hands in ecstasy. &ldquo;Oh, how different from mine!&rdquo; she
+      exclaimed. &ldquo;Is the comb tortoise-shell, sir, like one sees in the
+      shop-windows?&rdquo; The bath and the towels attracted her next; she stood,
+      looking at them with longing eyes, completely forgetful of the wonderful
+      comb. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve often peeped into the ironmongers&rsquo; shops,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and
+      thought I should be the happiest girl in the world, if I had such a bath
+      as that. A little pitcher is all I have got of my own, and they swear at
+      me when I want it filled more than once. In all my life, I have never had
+      as much water as I should like.&rdquo; She paused, and thought for a moment. The
+      forlorn, vacant look appeared again, and dimmed the beauty of her blue
+      eyes. &ldquo;It will be hard to go back, after seeing all these pretty things,&rdquo;
+       she said to herself&mdash;and sighed, with that inborn submission to her
+      fate so melancholy to see in a creature so young.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You shall never go back again to that dreadful life,&rdquo; Amelius interposed.
+      &ldquo;Never speak of it, never think of it any more. Oh, don&rsquo;t look at me like
+      that!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She was listening with an expression of pain, and with both her hands
+      lifted to her head. There was something so wonderful in the idea which he
+      had suggested to her, that her mind was not able to take it all in at
+      once. &ldquo;You make my head giddy,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m such a poor stupid girl&mdash;I
+      feel out of myself, like, when a gentleman like you sets me thinking of
+      new things. Would you mind saying it again, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll say it to-morrow morning,&rdquo; Amelius rejoined kindly. &ldquo;You are tired,
+      Sally&mdash;go to rest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She roused herself, and looked at the bed. &ldquo;Is that your bed, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s your bed to-night,&rdquo; said Amelius. &ldquo;I shall sleep on the sofa, in the
+      next room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her eyes rested on him, for a moment, in speechless surprise; she looked
+      back again at the bed. &ldquo;Are you going to leave me by myself?&rdquo; she asked
+      wonderingly. Not the faintest suggestion of immodesty&mdash;nothing that
+      the most profligate man living could have interpreted impurely&mdash;showed
+      itself in her look or manner, as she said those words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius thought of what one of her women-friends had told him. &ldquo;She hasn&rsquo;t
+      grown up, you know, in her mind, since she was a child.&rdquo; There were other
+      senses in the poor victim that were still undeveloped, besides the mental
+      sense. He was at a loss how to answer her, with the respect which was due
+      to that all-atoning ignorance. His silence amazed and frightened her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have I said anything to make you angry with me?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius hesitated no longer. &ldquo;My poor girl,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I pity you from the
+      bottom of my heart! Sleep well, Simple Sally&mdash;sleep well.&rdquo; He left
+      her hurriedly, and shut the door between them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She followed him as far as the closed door; and stood there alone, trying
+      to understand him, and trying all in vain! After a while, she found
+      courage enough to whisper through the door. &ldquo;If you please, sir&mdash;&rdquo;
+       She stopped, startled by her own boldness. He never heard her; he was
+      standing at the window, looking out thoughtfully at the night; feeling
+      less confident of the future already. She still stood at the door,
+      wretched in the firm persuasion that she had offended him. Once she lifted
+      her hand to knock at the door, and let it drop again at her side. A second
+      time she made the effort, and desperately summoned the resolution to
+      knock. He opened the door directly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;m very sorry if I said anything wrong,&rdquo; she began faintly, her breath
+      coming and going in quick hysteric gasps. &ldquo;Please forgive me, and wish me
+      good night.&rdquo; Amelius took her hand; he said good night with the utmost
+      gentleness, but he said it sorrowfully. She was not quite comforted yet.
+      &ldquo;Would you mind, sir&mdash;?&rdquo; She paused awkwardly, afraid to go on. There
+      was something so completely childlike in the artless perplexity of her
+      eyes, that Amelius smiled. The change in his expression gave her back her
+      courage in an instant; her pale delicate lips reflected his smile
+      prettily. &ldquo;Would you mind giving me a kiss, sir?&rdquo; she said. Amelius kissed
+      her. Let the man who can honestly say he would have done otherwise, blame
+      him. He shut the door between them once more. She was quite happy now. He
+      heard her singing to herself as she got ready for bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Once, in the wakeful watches of the night, she startled him. He heard a
+      cry of pain or terror in the bedroom. &ldquo;What is it?&rdquo; he asked through the
+      door; &ldquo;what has frightened you?&rdquo; There was no answer. After a minute or
+      two, the cry was repeated. He opened the door, and looked in. She was
+      sleeping, and dreaming as she slept. One little thin white arm was lifted
+      in the air, and waved restlessly to and fro over her head. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t kill
+      me!&rdquo; she murmured, in low moaning tones&mdash;&ldquo;oh, don&rsquo;t kill me!&rdquo; Amelius
+      took her arm gently, and laid it back on the coverlet of the bed. His
+      touch seemed to exercise some calming influence over her: she sighed, and
+      turned her head on the pillow; a faint flush rose on her wasted cheeks,
+      and passed away again&mdash;she sank quietly into dreamless sleep.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius returned to his sofa, and fell into a broken slumber. The hours of
+      the night passed. The sad light of the November morning dawned mistily
+      through the uncurtained window, and woke him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He started up, and looked at the bedroom door. &ldquo;Now what is to be done?&rdquo;
+       That was his first thought, on waking: he was beginning to feel his
+      responsibilities at last.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 2
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      The landlady of the lodgings decided what was to be done.
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will be so good, sir, as to leave my apartments immediately,&rdquo; she
+      said to Amelius. &ldquo;I make no claim to the week&rsquo;s rent, in consideration of
+      the short notice. This is a respectable house, and it shall be kept
+      respectable at any sacrifice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius explained and protested; he appealed to the landlady&rsquo;s sense of
+      justice and sense of duty, as a Christian woman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The reasoning which would have been irresistible at Tadmor was reasoning
+      completely thrown away in London. The landlady remained as impenetrable as
+      the Egyptian Sphinx. &ldquo;If that creature in the bedroom is not out of my
+      house in an hour&rsquo;s time, I shall send for the police.&rdquo; Having answered her
+      lodger&rsquo;s arguments in those terms, she left the room, and banged the door
+      after her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, sir, for being so kind to me. I&rsquo;ll go away directly&mdash;and
+      then, perhaps, the lady will forgive you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius looked round. Simple Sally had heard it all. She was dressed in
+      her wretched clothes, and was standing at the open bedroom door, crying,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wait a little,&rdquo; said Amelius, wiping her eyes with his own handkerchief;
+      &ldquo;and we will go away together. I want to get you some better clothes; and
+      I don&rsquo;t exactly know how to set about it. Don&rsquo;t cry, my dear&mdash;don&rsquo;t
+      cry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The deaf maid-of-all-work came in, as he spoke. She too was in tears.
+      Amelius had been good to her, in many little ways&mdash;and she was the
+      guilty person who had led to the discovery in the bedroom. &ldquo;If you had
+      only told me, sir,&rdquo; she said pentitently, &ldquo;I&rsquo;d have kep&rsquo; it secret. But,
+      there, I went in with your &lsquo;ot water, as usual, and, O Lor&rsquo;, I was that
+      startled I dropped the jug, and run downstairs again&mdash;!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius stopped the further progress of the apology. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t blame you,
+      Maria,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;I&rsquo;m in a difficulty. Help me out of it; and you will do
+      me a kindness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maria partially heard him, and no more. Afraid of reaching the landlady&rsquo;s
+      ears, as well as the maid&rsquo;s ears, if he raised his voice, he asked if she
+      could read writing. Yes, she could read writing, if it was plain. Amelius
+      immediately reduced the expression of his necessities to writing, in large
+      text. Maria was delighted. She knew the nearest shop at which ready-made
+      outer clothing for women could be obtained, and nothing was wanted, as a
+      certain guide to an ignorant man, but two pieces of string. With one
+      piece, she measured Simple Sally&rsquo;s height, and with the other she took the
+      slender girth of the girl&rsquo;s waist&mdash;while Amelius opened his
+      writing-desk, and supplied himself with the last sum of spare money that
+      he possessed. He had just closed the desk again, when the voice of the
+      merciless landlady was heard, calling imperatively for Maria.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The maid-of-all-work handed the two indicative strings to Amelius.
+      &ldquo;They&rsquo;ll &lsquo;elp you at the shop,&rdquo; she said&mdash;and shuffled out of the
+      room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius turned to Simple Sally. &ldquo;I am going to get you some new clothes,&rdquo;
+       he began.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The girl stopped him there: she was incapable of listening to a word more.
+      Every trace of sorrow vanished from her face in an instant. She clapped
+      her hands. &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; she cried, &ldquo;new clothes! clean clothes! Let me go with
+      you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Even Amelius saw that it was impossible to take her out in the streets
+      with him in broad daylight, dressed as she was then. &ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; he said,
+      &ldquo;wait here till you get your new things. I won&rsquo;t be half an hour gone.
+      Lock yourself in if you&rsquo;re afraid, and open the door to nobody till I come
+      back!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Sally hesitated; she began to look frightened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Think of the new dress, and the pretty bonnet,&rdquo; suggested Amelius,
+      speaking unconsciously in the tone in which he might have promised a toy
+      to a child.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had taken the right way with her. Her face brightened again. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll do
+      anything you tell me,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He put the key in her hand, and was out in the street directly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius possessed one valuable moral quality which is exceedingly rare
+      among Englishmen. He was not in the least ashamed of putting himself in a
+      ridiculous position, when he was conscious that his own motives justified
+      him. The smiling and tittering of the shop-women, when he stated the
+      nature of his errand, and produced his two pieces of string, failed to
+      annoy him in the smallest degree. He laughed too. &ldquo;Funny, isn&rsquo;t it,&rdquo; he
+      said, &ldquo;a man like me buying gowns and the rest of it? She can&rsquo;t come
+      herself&mdash;and you&rsquo;ll advise me, like good creatures, won&rsquo;t you?&rdquo; They
+      advised their handsome young customer to such good purpose, that he was in
+      possession of a gray walking costume, a black cloth jacket, a plain
+      lavender-coloured bonnet, a pair of black gloves, and a paper of pins, in
+      little more than ten minutes&rsquo; time. The nearest trunk-maker supplied a
+      travelling-box to hold all these treasures; and a passing cab took Amelius
+      back to his lodgings, just as the half-hour was out. But one event had
+      happened during his absence. The landlady had knocked at the door, had
+      called through it in a terrible voice, &ldquo;Half an hour more!&rdquo; and had
+      retired again without waiting for an answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius carried the box into the bedroom. &ldquo;Be as quick as you can, Sally,&rdquo;
+       he said&mdash;and left her alone, to enjoy the full rapture of discovering
+      the new clothes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When she opened the door and showed herself, the change was so wonderful
+      that Amelius was literally unable to speak to her. Joy flushed her pale
+      cheeks, and diffused its tender radiance over her pure blue eyes. A more
+      charming little creature, in that momentary transfiguration of pride and
+      delight, no man&rsquo;s eyes ever looked on. She ran across the room to Amelius,
+      and threw her arms round his neck. &ldquo;Let me be your servant!&rdquo; she cried; &ldquo;I
+      want to live with you all my life. Jump me up! I&rsquo;m wild&mdash;I want to
+      fly through the window.&rdquo; She caught sight of herself in the looking-glass,
+      and suddenly became composed and serious. &ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; she said, with the
+      quaintest mixture of awe and astonishment, &ldquo;was there ever such another
+      bonnet as this? Do look at it&mdash;do please look at it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius good-naturedly approached to look at it. At the same moment the
+      sitting-room door was opened, without any preliminary ceremony of knocking&mdash;and
+      Rufus walked into the room. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s half after ten,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and the
+      breakfast is spoiling as fast as it can.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Before Amelius could make his excuses for having completely forgotten his
+      engagement, Rufus discovered Sally. No woman, young or old, high in rank
+      or low in rank, ever found the New Englander unprepared with his own
+      characteristic acknowledgment of the debt of courtesy which he owed to the
+      sex. With his customary vast strides, he marched up to Sally and insisted
+      on shaking hands with her. &ldquo;How do you find yourself, miss? I take
+      pleasure in making your acquaintance.&rdquo; The girl turned to Amelius with
+      wide-eyed wonder and doubt. &ldquo;Go into the next room, Sally, for a minute or
+      two,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;This gentleman is a friend of mine, and I have something
+      to say to him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s an <i>active</i> little girl,&rdquo; said Rufus, looking after her as
+      she ran to the friendly shelter of the bedroom. &ldquo;Reminds me of one of our
+      girls at Coolspring&mdash;she does. Well, now, and who may Sally be?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius answered the question, as usual, without the slightest reserve.
+      Rufus waited in impenetrable silence until he had completed his narrative&mdash;then
+      took him gently by the arm, and led him to the window. With his hands in
+      his pockets and his long legs planted wide apart on his big feet, the
+      American carefully studied the face of his young friend under the
+      strongest light that could fall on it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Rufus, speaking quietly to himself, &ldquo;the boy is not raving mad,
+      so far as I can see. He has every appearance on him of meaning what he
+      says. And this is what comes of the Community of Tadmor, is it? Well,
+      civil and religious liberty is dearly purchased sometimes in the United
+      States&mdash;and that&rsquo;s a fact.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius turned away to pack his portmanteau. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t understand you,&rdquo; he
+      said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t suppose you do,&rdquo; Rufus remarked. &ldquo;I am at a similar loss myself
+      to understand <i>you.</i> My store of sensible remarks is copious on most
+      occasions&mdash;but I&rsquo;m darned if I ain&rsquo;t dried up in the face of this!
+      Might I venture to ask what that venerable Chief Christian at Tadmor would
+      say to the predicament in which I find my young Socialist this morning?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What would he say?&rdquo; Amelius repeated. &ldquo;Just what he said when Mellicent
+      first came among us. &lsquo;Ah, dear me! Another of the Fallen Leaves!&rsquo; I wish I
+      had the dear old man here to help me. <i>He</i> would know how to restore
+      that poor starved, outraged, beaten creature to the happy place on God&rsquo;s
+      earth which God intended her to fill!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus abruptly took him by the hand. &ldquo;You mean that?&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What else could I mean?&rdquo; Amelius rejoined sharply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bring her right away to breakfast at the hotel!&rdquo; cried Rufus, with every
+      appearance of feeling infinitely relieved. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t say I can supply you
+      with the venerable Chief Christian&mdash;but I can find a woman to fix
+      you, who is as nigh to being an angel, barring the wings, as any
+      she-creature since the time of mother Eve.&rdquo; He knocked at the bedroom
+      door, turning a deaf ear to every appeal for further information which
+      Amelius could address to him. &ldquo;Breakfast is waiting, miss!&rdquo; he called out;
+      &ldquo;and I&rsquo;m bound to tell you that the temper of the cook at our hotel is a
+      long way on the wrong side of uncertain. Well, Amelius, this is the age of
+      exhibition. If there&rsquo;s ever an exhibition of ignorance in the business of
+      packing a portmanteau, you run for the Gold Medal&mdash;and a unanimous
+      jury will vote it, I reckon, to a young man from Tadmor. Clear out, will
+      you, and leave it to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He pulled off his coat, and conquered the difficulties of packing in a
+      hurry, as if he had done nothing else all his life. The landlady herself,
+      appearing with pitiless punctuality exactly at the expiration of the hour,
+      &ldquo;smoothed her horrid front&rdquo; in the polite and placable presence of Rufus.
+      He insisted on shaking hands with her; he took pleasure in making her
+      acquaintance; she reminded him, he did assure her, of the lady of the
+      captain-general of the Coolspring Branch of the St. Vitus Commandery; and
+      he would take the liberty to inquire whether they were related or not.
+      Under cover of this fashionable conversation, Simple Sally was taken out
+      of the room by Amelius without attracting notice. She insisted on carrying
+      her threadbare old clothes away with her in the box which had contained
+      the new dress. &ldquo;I want to look at them sometimes,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and think
+      how much better off I am now.&rdquo; Rufus was the last to take his departure;
+      he persisted in talking to the landlady all the way down the stairs and
+      out to the street door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While Amelius was waiting for his friend on the house-steps, a young man
+      driving by in a cab leaned out and looked at him. The young man was Jervy,
+      on his way from Mr. Ronald&rsquo;s tombstone to Doctors&rsquo; Commons.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 3
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      With a rapid succession of events the morning had begun. With a rapid
+      succession of events the day went on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The breakfast being over, rooms at the hotel were engaged by Rufus for his
+      &ldquo;two young friends.&rdquo; After this, the next thing to be done was to provide
+      Simple Sally with certain necessary, but invisible, articles of clothing,
+      which Amelius had never thought of. A note to the nearest shop produced
+      the speedy arrival of a smart lady, accompanied by a boy and a large
+      basket. There was some difficulty in persuading Sally to trust herself
+      alone in her room with the stranger. She was afraid, poor soul, of
+      everybody but Amelius. Even the good American failed to win her
+      confidence. The distrust implanted in her feeble mind by the terrible life
+      that she had led, was the instinctive distrust of a wild animal. &ldquo;Why must
+      I go among other people?&rdquo; she whispered piteously to Amelius. &ldquo;I only want
+      to be with You!&rdquo; It was as completely useless to reason with her as it
+      would have been to explain the advantages of a comfortable cage to a newly
+      caught bird. There was but one way of inducing her to submit to the most
+      gently exerted interference. Amelius had only to say, &ldquo;Do it, Sally, to
+      please me.&rdquo; And Sally sighed, and did it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In her absence Amelius reiterated his inquiries, in relation to that
+      unknown friend whom Rufus had not scrupled to describe as &ldquo;an angel&mdash;barring
+      the wings.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The lady in question, the American briefly explained, was an Englishwoman&mdash;the
+      wife of one of his countrymen, established in London as a merchant. He had
+      known them both intimately before their departure from the United States;
+      and the old friendship had been cordially renewed on his arrival in
+      England. Associated with many other charitable institutions, Mrs. Payson
+      was one of the managing committee of a &ldquo;Home for Friendless Women,&rdquo;
+       especially adapted to receive poor girls in Sally&rsquo;s melancholy position.
+      Rufus offered to write a note to Mrs. Payson; inquiring at what hour she
+      could receive his friend and himself, and obtain permission for them to
+      see the &ldquo;Home.&rdquo; Amelius, after some hesitation, accepted the proposal. The
+      messenger had not been long despatched with the note before the smart
+      person from the shop made her appearance once more, reporting that &ldquo;the
+      young lady&rsquo;s outfit had been perfectly arranged,&rdquo; and presenting the
+      inevitable result in the shape of a bill. The last farthing of ready money
+      in the possession of Amelius proved to be insufficient to discharge the
+      debt. He accepted a loan from Rufus, until he could give his bankers the
+      necessary order to sell out some of his money invested in the Funds. His
+      answer, when Rufus protested against this course, was characteristic of
+      the teaching which he owed to the Community. &ldquo;My dear fellow, I am bound
+      to return the money you have lent to me&mdash;in the interests of our poor
+      brethren. The next friend who borrows of you may not have the means of
+      paying you back.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      After waiting for the return of Simple Sally, and waiting in vain, Amelius
+      sent a chambermaid to her room, with a message to her. Rufus disapproved
+      of this hasty proceeding. &ldquo;Why disturb the girl at her looking-glass?&rdquo;
+       asked the old bachelor, with his quaintly humorous smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sally came in with no bright pleasure in her eyes this time; the girl
+      looked worn and haggard. She drew Amelius away into a corner, and
+      whispered to him. &ldquo;I get a pain sometimes where the bruise is,&rdquo; she said;
+      &ldquo;and I&rsquo;ve got it bad, now.&rdquo; She glanced, with an odd furtive jealousy, at
+      Rufus. &ldquo;I kept away from you,&rdquo; she explained, &ldquo;because I didn&rsquo;t want <i>him</i>
+      to know.&rdquo; She stopped, and put her hand on her bosom, and clenched her
+      teeth fast. &ldquo;Never mind,&rdquo; she said cheerfully, as the pang passed away
+      again; &ldquo;I can bear it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius, acting on impulse, as usual, instantly ordered the most
+      comfortable carriage that the hotel possessed. He had heard terrible
+      stories of the possible result of an injury to a woman&rsquo;s bosom. &ldquo;I shall
+      take her to the best doctor in London,&rdquo; he announced. Sally whispered to
+      him again&mdash;still with her eye on Rufus. &ldquo;Is <i>he</i> going with us?&rdquo;
+       she asked. &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Amelius; &ldquo;one of us must stay here to receive a
+      message.&rdquo; Rufus looked after them very gravely, as the two left the room
+      together.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Applying for information to the mistress of the hotel, Amelius obtained
+      the address of a consulting surgeon of great celebrity, while Sally was
+      getting ready to go out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why don&rsquo;t you like my good friend upstairs?&rdquo; he said to the girl as they
+      drove away from the house. The answer came swift and straight from the
+      heart of the daughter of Eve. &ldquo;Because <i>you</i> like him!&rdquo; Amelius
+      changed the subject: he asked if she was still in pain. She shook her head
+      impatiently. Pain or no pain, the uppermost idea in her mind was still
+      that idea of being his servant, which had already found expression in
+      words before they left the lodgings. &ldquo;Will you let me keep my beautiful
+      new dress for going out on Sundays?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;The shabby old things
+      will do when I am your servant. I can black your boots, and brush your
+      clothes, and keep your room tidy&mdash;and I will try hard to learn, if
+      you will have me taught to cook.&rdquo; Amelius attempted to change the subject
+      again. He might as well have talked to her in an unknown tongue. The
+      glorious prospect of being his servant absorbed the whole of her
+      attention. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m little and I&rsquo;m stupid,&rdquo; she went on; &ldquo;but I do think I
+      could learn to cook, if I knew I was doing it for <i>You.&rdquo;</i> She paused,
+      and looked at him anxiously. &ldquo;Do let me try!&rdquo; she pleaded; &ldquo;I haven&rsquo;t had
+      much pleasure in my life&mdash;and I should like it so!&rdquo; It was impossible
+      to resist this. &ldquo;You shall be as happy as I can make you, Sally,&rdquo; Amelius
+      answered; &ldquo;God knows it isn&rsquo;t much you ask for!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Something in those compassionate words set her thinking in another
+      direction. It was sad to see how slowly and painfully she realized the
+      idea that had been suggested to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder whether you <i>can</i> make me happy?&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I suppose I
+      have been happy before this&mdash;but I don&rsquo;t know when. I don&rsquo;t remember
+      a time when I was not hungry or cold. Wait a bit. I do think I <i>was</i>
+      happy once. It was a long while ago, and it took me a weary time to do it&mdash;but
+      I did learn at last to play a tune on the fiddle. The old man and his wife
+      took it in turns to teach me. Somebody gave me to the old man and his
+      wife; I don&rsquo;t know who it was, and I don&rsquo;t remember their names. They were
+      musicians. In the fine streets they sang hymns, and in the poor streets
+      they sang comic songs. It was cold, to be sure, standing barefoot on the
+      pavement&mdash;but I got plenty of halfpence. The people said I was so
+      little it was a shame to send me out, and so I got halfpence. I had bread
+      and apples for supper, and a nice little corner under the staircase, to
+      sleep in. Do you know, I do think I did enjoy myself at that time,&rdquo; she
+      concluded, still a little doubtful whether those faint and far-off
+      remembrances were really to be relied on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius tried to lead her to other recollections. He asked her how old she
+      was when she played the fiddle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; she answered; &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know how old I am now. I don&rsquo;t
+      remember anything before the fiddle. I can&rsquo;t call to mind how long it was
+      first&mdash;but there came a time when the old man and his wife got into
+      trouble. They went to prison, and I never saw them afterwards. I ran away
+      with the fiddle; to get the halfpence, you know, all to myself. I think I
+      should have got a deal of money, if it hadn&rsquo;t been for the boys. They&rsquo;re
+      so cruel, the boys are. They broke my fiddle. I tried selling pencils
+      after that; but people didn&rsquo;t seem to want pencils. They found me out
+      begging. I got took up, and brought before the what-do-you-call-him&mdash;the
+      gentleman who sits in a high place, you know, behind a desk. Oh, but I was
+      frightened, when they took me before the gentleman! He looked very much
+      puzzled. He says, &lsquo;Bring her up here; she&rsquo;s so small I can hardly see
+      her.&rsquo; He says, &lsquo;Good God! what am I to do with this unfortunate child?&rsquo; 
+      There was plenty of people about. One of them says, &lsquo;The workhouse ought
+      to take her.&rsquo; And a lady came in, and she says, &lsquo;I&rsquo;ll take her, sir, if
+      you&rsquo;ll let me.&rsquo; And he knew her, and he let her. She took me to a place
+      they called a Refuge&mdash;for wandering children, you know. It was very
+      strict at the Refuge. They did give us plenty to eat, to be sure, and they
+      taught us lessons. They told us about Our Father up in Heaven. I said a
+      wrong thing&mdash;I said, &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t want him up in Heaven; I want him down
+      here.&rsquo; They were very much ashamed of me when I said that. I was a bad
+      girl; I turned ungrateful. After a time, I ran away. You see, it was so
+      strict, and I was so used to the streets. I met with a Scotchman in the
+      streets. He wore a kilt, and played the pipes; he taught me to dance, and
+      dressed me up like a Scotch girl. He had a curious wife, a sort of
+      half-black woman. She used to dance too&mdash;on a bit of carpet, you
+      know, so as not to spoil her fine shoes. They taught me songs; he taught
+      me a Scotch song. And one day his wife said <i>she</i> was English (I
+      don&rsquo;t know how that was, being a half-black woman), and I should learn an
+      English song. And they quarrelled about it. And she had her way. She
+      taught me &lsquo;Sally in our Alley&rsquo;. That&rsquo;s how I come to be called Sally. I
+      hadn&rsquo;t any name of my own&mdash;I always had nicknames. Sally was the last
+      of them, and Sally has stuck to me. I hope it isn&rsquo;t too common a name to
+      please you? Oh, what a fine house! Are we really going in? Will they let
+      <i>me</i> in? How stupid I am! I forgot my beautiful clothes. You won&rsquo;t
+      tell them, will you, if they take me for a lady?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The carriage had stopped at the great surgeon&rsquo;s house: the waiting-room
+      was full of patients. Some of them were trying to read the books and
+      newspapers on the table; and some of them were looking at each other, not
+      only without the slightest sympathy, but occasionally even with downright
+      distrust and dislike. Amelius took up a newspaper, and gave Sally an
+      illustrated book to amuse her, while they waited to see the Surgeon in
+      their turn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Two long hours passed, before the servant summoned Amelius to the
+      consulting-room. Sally was wearily asleep in her chair. He left her
+      undisturbed, having questions to put relating to the imperfectly developed
+      state of her mind, which could not be asked in her presence. The surgeon
+      listened, with no ordinary interest, to the young stranger&rsquo;s simple and
+      straightforward narrative of what had happened on the previous night. &ldquo;You
+      are very unlike other young men,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;may I ask how you have been
+      brought up?&rdquo; The reply surprised him. &ldquo;This opens quite a new view of
+      Socialism,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I thought your conduct highly imprudent at first&mdash;it
+      seems to be the natural result of your teaching now. Let me see what I can
+      do to help you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He was very grave and very gentle, when Sally was presented to him. His
+      opinion of the injury to her bosom relieved the anxiety of Amelius: there
+      might be pain for some little time to come, but there were no serious
+      consequences to fear. Having written his prescription, and having put
+      several questions to Sally, the surgeon sent her back, with marked
+      kindness of manner, to wait for Amelius in the patients&rsquo; room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have young daughters of my own,&rdquo; he said, when the door was closed;
+      &ldquo;and I cannot but feel for that unhappy creature, when I contrast her life
+      with theirs. So far as I can see it, the natural growth of her senses&mdash;her
+      higher and her lower senses alike&mdash;has been stunted, like the natural
+      growth of her body, by starvation, terror, exposure to cold, and other
+      influences inherent in the life that she has led. With nourishing food,
+      pure air, and above all kind and careful treatment, I see no reason, at
+      her age, why she should not develop into an intelligent and healthy young
+      woman. Pardon me if I venture on giving you a word of advice. At your time
+      of life, you will do well to place her at once under competent and proper
+      care. You may live to regret it, if you are too confident in your own good
+      motives in such a case as this. Come to me again, if I can be of any use
+      to you. No,&rdquo; he continued, refusing to take his fee; &ldquo;my help to that poor
+      lost girl is help given freely.&rdquo; He shook hands with Amelius&mdash;a
+      worthy member of the noble order to which he belonged.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The surgeon&rsquo;s parting advice, following on the quaint protest of Rufus,
+      had its effect on Amelius. He was silent and thoughtful when he got into
+      the carriage again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Simple Sally looked at him with a vague sense of alarm. Her heart beat
+      fast, under the perpetually recurring fear that she had done something or
+      said something to offend him. &ldquo;Was it bad behaviour in me,&rdquo; she asked, &ldquo;to
+      fall asleep in the chair?&rdquo; Reassured, so far, she was still as anxious as
+      ever to get at the truth. After long hesitation, and long previous
+      thought, she ventured to try another question. &ldquo;The gentleman sent me out
+      of the room&mdash;did he say anything to set you against me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The gentleman said everything that was kind of you,&rdquo; Amelius replied,
+      &ldquo;and everything to make me hope that you will live to be a happy girl.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She said nothing to that; vague assurances were no assurances to her&mdash;she
+      only looked at him with the dumb fidelity of a dog. Suddenly, she dropped
+      on her knees in the carriage, hid her face in her hands, and cried
+      silently. Surprised and distressed, he attempted to raise her and console
+      her. &ldquo;No!&rdquo; she said obstinately. &ldquo;Something has happened to vex you, and
+      you won&rsquo;t tell me what it is. Do, do, do tell me what it is!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear child,&rdquo; said Amelius, &ldquo;I was only thinking anxiously about you,
+      in the time to come.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked up at him quickly. &ldquo;What! have you forgotten already?&rdquo; she
+      exclaimed. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m to be your servant in the time to come.&rdquo; She dried her
+      eyes, and took her place again joyously by his side. &ldquo;You did frighten
+      me,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and all for nothing. But you didn&rsquo;t mean it, did you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      An older man might have had the courage to undeceive her: Amelius shrank
+      from it. He tried to lead her back to the melancholy story&mdash;so common
+      and so terrible; so pitiable in its utter absence of sentiment or romance&mdash;the
+      story of her past life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; she answered, with that quick insight where her feelings were
+      concerned, which was the only quick insight that she possessed. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t
+      like making you sorry; and you did look sorry&mdash;you did&mdash;when I
+      talked about it before. The streets, the streets, the streets; little
+      girl, or big girl, it&rsquo;s only the streets; and always being hungry or cold;
+      and cruel men when it isn&rsquo;t cruel boys. I want to be happy! I want to
+      enjoy my new clothes! You tell me about your own self. What makes you so
+      kind? I can&rsquo;t make it out; try as I may, I can&rsquo;t make it out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Some time elapsed before they got back to the hotel. Amelius drove as far
+      as the City, to give the necessary instructions to his bankers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On returning to the sitting-room at last, he discovered that his American
+      friend was not alone. A gray-haired lady with a bright benevolent face was
+      talking earnestly to Rufus. The instant Sally discovered the stranger, she
+      started back, fled to the shelter of her bedchamber, and locked herself
+      in. Amelius, entering the room after a little hesitation, was presented to
+      Mrs. Payson.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There was something in my old friend&rsquo;s note,&rdquo; said the lady, smiling and
+      turning to Rufus, &ldquo;which suggested to me that I should do well to answer
+      it personally. I am not too old yet to follow the impulse of the moment,
+      sometimes; and I am very glad that I did so. I have heard what is, to me,
+      a very interesting story. Mr. Goldenheart, I respect you! And I will prove
+      it by helping you, with all my heart and soul, to save that poor little
+      girl who has just run away from me. Pray don&rsquo;t make excuses for her; I
+      should have run away too, at her age. We have arranged,&rdquo; she continued,
+      looking again at Rufus, &ldquo;that I shall take you both to the Home, this
+      afternoon. If we can prevail on Sally to go with us, one serious obstacle
+      in our way will be overcome. Tell me the number of her room. I want to try
+      if I can&rsquo;t make friends with her. I have had some experience; and I don&rsquo;t
+      despair of bringing her back here, hand in hand with the terrible person
+      who has frightened her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The two men were left together. Amelius attempted to speak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Keep it down,&rdquo; said Rufus; &ldquo;no premature outbreak of opinion, if you
+      please, yet awhile. Wait till she has fixed Sally, and shown us the
+      Paradise of the poor girls. It&rsquo;s within the London postal district, and
+      that&rsquo;s all I know about it. Well, now, and did you go to the doctor?
+      Thunder! what&rsquo;s come to the boy? Seems as though he had left his
+      complexion in the carriage! He looks, I do declare, as if he wanted
+      medical tinkering himself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius explained that his past night had been a wakeful one, and that the
+      events of the day had not allowed him any opportunities of repose. &ldquo;Since
+      the morning,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;things have hurried so, one on the top of the
+      other, that I am beginning to feel a little dazed and weary.&rdquo; Without a
+      word of remark, Rufus produced the remedy. The materials were ready on the
+      sideboard&mdash;he made a cocktail.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Another?&rdquo; asked the New Englander, after a reasonable lapse of time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius declined taking another. He stretched himself on the sofa; his
+      good friend considerately took up a newspaper. For the first time that
+      day, he had now the prospect of a quiet interval for rest and thought. In
+      less than a minute the delusive prospect vanished. He started to his feet
+      again, disturbed by a new anxiety. Having leisure to think, he had thought
+      of Regina. &ldquo;Good heavens!&rdquo; he exclaimed; &ldquo;she&rsquo;s waiting to see me&mdash;and
+      I never remembered it till this moment!&rdquo; He looked at his watch: it was
+      five o&rsquo;clock. &ldquo;What am I to do?&rdquo; he said helplessly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus laid down the newspaper, and considered the new difficulty in its
+      various aspects.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are bound to go with Mrs. Payson to the Home,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;and, I tell
+      you this, Amelius, the matter of Sally is not a matter to be played with;
+      it&rsquo;s a thing that&rsquo;s got to be done. In your place I should write politely
+      to Miss Regina, and put it off till to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, a man who took Rufus for his
+      counsellor was a man who acted wisely in every sense of the word. Events,
+      however, of which Amelius and his friend were both ignorant alike, had so
+      ordered it, that the American&rsquo;s well-meant advice, in this one exceptional
+      case, was the very worst advice that could have been given. In an hour
+      more, Jervy and Mrs. Sowler were to meet at the tavern door. The one last
+      hope of protecting Mrs. Farnaby from the abominable conspiracy of which
+      she was the destined victim, rested solely on the fulfilment by Amelius of
+      his engagement with Regina for that day. Always ready to interfere with
+      the progress of the courtship, Mrs. Farnaby would be especially eager to
+      seize the first opportunity of speaking to her young Socialist friend on
+      the subject of his lecture. In the course of the talk between them, the
+      idea which, in the present disturbed state of his mind, had not struck him
+      yet&mdash;the idea that the outcast of the streets might, by the barest
+      conceivable possibility, be identified with the lost daughter&mdash;would,
+      in one way or another, be almost infallibly suggested to Amelius; and, at
+      the eleventh hour, the conspiracy would be foiled. If, on the other hand,
+      the American&rsquo;s fatal advice was followed, the next morning&rsquo;s post might
+      bring a letter from Jervy to Mrs. Farnaby&mdash;with this disastrous
+      result. At the first words spoken by Amelius, she would put an end to all
+      further interest in the subject on his part, by telling him that the lost
+      girl had been found, and found by another person.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus pointed to the writing-materials on a side table, which he had
+      himself used earlier in the day. The needful excuse was, unhappily, quite
+      easy to find. A misunderstanding with his landlady had obliged Amelius to
+      leave his lodgings at an hour&rsquo;s notice, and had occupied him in trying to
+      find a new residence for the rest of the day. The note was written. Rufus,
+      who was nearest to the bell, stretched out his hand to ring for the
+      messenger. Amelius suddenly stopped him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She doesn&rsquo;t like me to disappoint her,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I needn&rsquo;t stay long&mdash;I
+      might get there and back in half an hour, in a fast cab.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His conscience was not quite easy. The sense of having forgotten Regina&mdash;no
+      matter how naturally and excusably&mdash;oppressed him with a feeling of
+      self-reproach. Rufus raised no objection; the hesitation of Amelius was
+      unquestionably creditable to him. &ldquo;If you must do it, my son,&rdquo; he said,
+      &ldquo;do it right away&mdash;and we&rsquo;ll wait for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius took up his hat. The door opened as he approached it, and Mrs.
+      Payson entered the room, leading Simple Sally by the hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are all going together,&rdquo; said the genial old lady, &ldquo;to see my large
+      family of daughters at the Home. We can have our talk in the carriage.
+      It&rsquo;s an hour&rsquo;s drive from this place&mdash;and I must be back again to
+      dinner at half-past seven.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius and Rufus looked at each other. Amelius thought of pleading an
+      engagement, and asking to be excused. Under the circumstances, it was
+      assuredly not a very gracious thing to do. Before he could make up his
+      mind, one way or the other, Sally stole to his side, and put her hand on
+      his arm. Mrs. Payson had done wonders in conquering the girl&rsquo;s inveterate
+      distrust of strangers, and, to a certain extent at least, winning her
+      confidence. But no early influence could shake Sally&rsquo;s dog-like devotion
+      to Amelius. Her jealous instinct discovered something suspicious in his
+      sudden silence. &ldquo;You must go with us,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I won&rsquo;t go without you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly not,&rdquo; Mrs. Payson added; &ldquo;I promised her that, of course,
+      beforehand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus rang the bell, and despatched the messenger to Regina. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s the
+      one way out of it, my son,&rdquo; he whispered to Amelius, as they followed Mrs.
+      Payson and Sally down the stairs of the hotel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They had just driven up to the gates of the Home, when Jervy and his
+      accomplice met at the tavern, and entered on their consultation in a
+      private room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In spite of her poverty-stricken appearance, Mrs. Sowler was not
+      absolutely destitute. In various underhand and wicked ways, she contrived
+      to put a few shillings in her pocket from week to week. If she was half
+      starved, it was for the very ordinary reason, among persons of her vicious
+      class, that she preferred spending her money on drink. Stating his
+      business with her, as reservedly and as cunningly as usual, Jervy found,
+      to his astonishment, that even this squalid old creature presumed to
+      bargain with him. The two wretches were on the point of a quarrel which
+      might have delayed the execution of the plot against Mrs. Farnaby, but for
+      the vile self-control which made Jervy one of the most formidable
+      criminals living. He gave way on the question of money&mdash;and, from
+      that moment, he had Mrs. Sowler absolutely at his disposal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Meet me to-morrow morning, to receive your instructions,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;The
+      time is ten sharp; and the place is the powder-magazine in Hyde Park. And
+      mind this! You must be decently dressed&mdash;you know where to hire the
+      things. If I smell you of spirits to-morrow morning, I shall employ
+      somebody else. No; not a farthing now. You will have your money&mdash;first
+      instalment only, mind!&mdash;to-morrow at ten.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Left by himself, Jervy sent for pen, ink, and paper. Using his left hand,
+      which was just as serviceable to him as his right, he traced these lines:&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are informed, by an unknown friend, that a certain lost young lady is
+      now living in a foreign country, and may be restored to her afflicted
+      mother on receipt of a sufficient sum to pay expenses, and to reward the
+      writer of this letter, who is undeservedly, in distressed circumstances.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you, madam, the mother? I ask the question in the strictest
+      confidence, knowing nothing certainly but that your husband was the person
+      who put the young lady out to nurse in her infancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t address your husband, because his inhuman desertion of the poor
+      baby does not incline me to trust him. I run the risk of trusting you&mdash;to
+      a certain extent&mdash;at starting. Shall I drop a hint which may help you
+      to identify the child, in your own mind? It would be inexcusably foolish
+      on my part to speak too plainly, just yet. The hint must be a vague one.
+      Suppose I use a poetical expression, and say that the young lady is
+      enveloped in mystery from head to foot&mdash;especially the foot?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In the event of my addressing the right person, I beg to offer a
+      suggestion for a preliminary interview.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you will take a walk on the bridge over the Serpentine River, on
+      Kensington Gardens side, at half-past ten o&rsquo;clock to-morrow morning,
+      holding a white handkerchief in your left hand, you will meet the
+      much-injured woman, who was deceived into taking charge of the infant
+      child at Ramsgate, and will be satisfied so far that you are giving your
+      confidence to persons who really deserve it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jervy addressed this infamous letter to Mrs. Farnaby, in an ordinary
+      envelope, marked &ldquo;Private.&rdquo; He posted it, that night, with his own hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 4
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      &ldquo;Rufus! I don&rsquo;t quite like the way you look at me. You seem to think&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </h3>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give it tongue, my son. What do I seem to think?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You think I&rsquo;m forgetting Regina. You don&rsquo;t believe I&rsquo;m just as fond of
+      her as ever. The fact is, you&rsquo;re an old bachelor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is so. Where&rsquo;s the harm, Amelius?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t understand&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&rsquo;re out there, my bright boy. I reckon I understand more than you
+      think for. The wisest thing you ever did in your life is what you did this
+      evening, when you committed Sally to the care of those ladies at the
+      Home.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good night, Rufus. We shall quarrel if I stay here any longer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good night, Amelius. We shan&rsquo;t quarrel, stay here as long as you like.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The good deed had been done; the sacrifice&mdash;already a painful
+      sacrifice&mdash;had been made. Mrs. Payson was old enough to speak
+      plainly, as well as seriously, to Amelius of the absolute necessity of
+      separating himself from Simple Sally, without any needless delay. &ldquo;You
+      have seen for yourself,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that the plan on which this little
+      household is ruled is the unvarying plan of patience and kindness. So far
+      as Sally is concerned, you can be quite sure that she will never hear a
+      harsh word, never meet with a hard look, while she is under our care. The
+      lamentable neglect under which the poor creature has suffered, will be
+      tenderly remembered and atoned for, here. If we can&rsquo;t make her happy among
+      us, I promise that she shall leave the Home, if she wishes it, in six
+      weeks&rsquo; time. As to yourself, consider your position if you persist in
+      taking her back with you. Our good friend Rufus has told me that you are
+      engaged to be married. Think of the misinterpretations, to say the least
+      of it, to which you would subject yourself&mdash;think of the reports
+      which would sooner or later find their way to the young lady&rsquo;s ears, and
+      of the deplorable consequences that would follow. I believe implicitly in
+      the purity of your motives. But remember Who taught us to pray that we may
+      not be led into temptation&mdash;and complete the good work that you have
+      begun, by leaving Sally among friends and sisters in this house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      To any honourable man, these were unanswerable words. Coming after what
+      Rufus and the surgeon had already said to him, they left Amelius no
+      alternative but to yield. He pleaded for leave to write to Sally, and to
+      see her, at a later interval, when she might be reconciled to her new
+      life. Mrs. Payson had just consented to both requests, Rufus had just
+      heartily congratulated him on his decision&mdash;when the door was thrown
+      violently open. Simple Sally ran into the room, followed by one of the
+      women-attendants in a state of breathless surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She showed me a bedroom,&rdquo; cried Sally, pointing indignantly to the woman;
+      &ldquo;and she asked if I should like to sleep there.&rdquo; She turned to Amelius,
+      and caught him by the hand to lead him away. The ineradicable instinct of
+      distrust had been once more roused in her by the too zealous attendant.
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;m not going to stay here,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;I&rsquo;m going away with You!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius glanced at Mrs. Payson. Sally tried to drag him to the door. He
+      did his best to reassure her by a smile; he spoke confusedly some
+      composing words. But his honest face, always accustomed to tell the truth,
+      told the truth now. The poor lost creature, whose feeble intelligence was
+      so slow to discern, so inapt to reflect, looked at him with the heart&rsquo;s
+      instantaneous perception, and saw her doom. She let go of his hand. Her
+      head sank. Without word or cry, she dropped on the floor at his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The attendant instantly raised her, and placed her on a sofa. Mrs. Payson
+      saw how resolutely Amelius struggled to control himself, and felt for him
+      with all her heart. Turning aside for a moment, she hastily wrote a few
+      lines, and returned to him. &ldquo;Go, before we revive her,&rdquo; she whispered;
+      &ldquo;and give what I have written to the coachman. You shall suffer no anxiety
+      that I can spare you,&rdquo; said the excellent woman; &ldquo;I will stay here myself
+      to-night, and reconcile her to the new life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She held out her hand; Amelius kissed it in silence. Rufus led him out.
+      Not a word dropped from his lips on the long drive back to London.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His mind was disturbed by other subjects besides the subject of Sally. He
+      thought of his future, darkened by the doubtful marriage-engagement that
+      was before him. Alone with Rufus, for the rest of the evening, he
+      petulantly misunderstood the sympathy with which the kindly American
+      regarded him. Their bedrooms were next to each other. Rufus heard him
+      walking restlessly to and fro, and now and then talking to himself. After
+      a while, these sounds ceased. He was evidently worn out, and was getting
+      the rest that he needed, at last.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next morning he received a few lines from Mrs. Payson, giving a
+      favourable account of Sally, and promising further particulars in a day or
+      two.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Encouraged by this good news, revived by a long night&rsquo;s sleep, he went
+      towards noon to pay his postponed visit to Regina. At that early hour, he
+      could feel sure that his interview with her would not be interrupted by
+      visitors. She received him quietly and seriously, pressing his hand with a
+      warmer fondness than usual. He had anticipated some complaint of his
+      absence on the previous day, and some severe allusion to his appearance in
+      the capacity of a Socialist lecturer. Regina&rsquo;s indulgence, or Regina&rsquo;s
+      interest in circumstances of more pressing importance, preserved a
+      merciful silence on both subjects.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a comfort to me to see you, Amelius,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;I am in trouble
+      about my uncle, and I am weary of my own anxious thoughts. Something
+      unpleasant has happened in Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s business. He goes to the City
+      earlier, and he returns much later, than usual. When he does come back, he
+      doesn&rsquo;t speak to me&mdash;he locks himself into his room; and he looks
+      worn and haggard when I make his breakfast for him in the morning. You
+      know that he is one of the directors of the new bank? There was something
+      about the bank in the newspaper yesterday which upset him dreadfully; he
+      put down his cup of coffee&mdash;and went away to the City, without eating
+      his breakfast. I don&rsquo;t like to worry you about it, Amelius. But my aunt
+      seems to take no interest in her husband&rsquo;s affairs&mdash;and it is really
+      a relief to me to talk of my troubles to you. I have kept the newspaper;
+      do look at what it says about the bank, and tell me if you understand it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius read the passage pointed out to him. He knew as little of banking
+      business as Regina. &ldquo;So far as I can make it out,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;they&rsquo;re
+      paying away money to their shareholders which they haven&rsquo;t earned. How do
+      they do that, I wonder?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Regina changed the subject in despair. She asked Amelius if he had found
+      new lodgings. Hearing that he had not yet succeeded in the search for a
+      residence, she opened a drawer of her work-table, and took out a card.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The brother of one of my schoolfellows is going to be married,&rdquo; she said.
+      &ldquo;He has a pretty bachelor cottage in the neighbourhood of the Regent&rsquo;s
+      Park&mdash;and he wants to sell it, with the furniture, just as it is. I
+      don&rsquo;t know whether you care to encumber yourself with a little house of
+      your own. His sister has asked me to distribute some of his cards, with
+      the address and the particulars. It might be worth your while, perhaps, to
+      look at the cottage when you pass that way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius took the card. The small feminine restraints and gentlenesses of
+      Regina, her quiet even voice, her serene grace of movement, had a
+      pleasantly soothing effect on his mind after the anxieties of the last
+      four and twenty hours. He looked at her bending over her embroidery,
+      deftly and gracefully industrious&mdash;and drew his chair closer to her.
+      She smiled softly over her work, conscious that he was admiring her, and
+      placidly pleased to receive the tribute.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I would buy the cottage at once,&rdquo; said Amelius, &ldquo;if I thought you would
+      come and live in it with me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked up gravely, with her needle suspended in her hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t let us return to that,&rdquo; she answered, and went on again with her
+      embroidery.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo; Amelius asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She persisted in working, as industriously as if she had been a poor
+      needlewoman, with serious reasons for being eager to get her money. &ldquo;It is
+      useless,&rdquo; she replied, &ldquo;to speak of what cannot be for some time to come.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius stopped the progress of the embroidery by taking her hand. Her
+      devotion to her work irritated him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look at me, Regina,&rdquo; he said, steadily controlling himself. &ldquo;I want to
+      propose that we shall give way a little on both sides. I won&rsquo;t hurry you;
+      I will wait a reasonable time. If I promise that, surely you may yield a
+      little in return. Money seems to be a hard taskmaster, my darling, after
+      what you have told me about your uncle. See how he suffers because he is
+      bent on being rich; and ask yourself if it isn&rsquo;t a warning to us not to
+      follow his example! Would you like to see <i>me</i> too wretched to speak
+      to you, or to eat my breakfast&mdash;and all for the sake of a little
+      outward show? Come, come! let us think of ourselves. Why should we waste
+      the best days of our life apart, when we are both free to be happy
+      together? I have another good friend besides Rufus&mdash;the good friend
+      of my father before me. He knows all sorts of great people, and he will
+      help me to some employment. In six months&rsquo; time I might have a little
+      salary to add to my income. Say the sweetest words, my darling, that ever
+      fell from your lips&mdash;say you will marry me in six months!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was not in a woman&rsquo;s nature to be insensible to such pleading as this.
+      She all but yielded. &ldquo;I should like to say it, dear!&rdquo; she answered, with a
+      little fluttering sigh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Say it, then!&rdquo; Amelius suggested tenderly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She took refuge again in her embroidery. &ldquo;If you would only give me a
+      little time,&rdquo; she suggested, &ldquo;I might say it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Time for what, my own love?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Time to wait, dear, till my uncle is not quite so anxious as he is now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t talk of your uncle, Regina! You know as well as I do what he would
+      say. Good heavens! why can&rsquo;t you decide for yourself? No! I don&rsquo;t want to
+      hear over again about what you owe to Mr. Farnaby&mdash;I heard enough of
+      it on that day in the shrubbery. Oh, my dear girl, do have some feeling
+      for me! do for once have a will of your own!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Those last words were an offence to her self-esteem. &ldquo;I think it&rsquo;s very
+      rude to tell me I have no will of my own,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and very hard to
+      press in this way when you know I am in trouble.&rdquo; The inevitable
+      handkerchief appeared, adding emphasis to the protest&mdash;and the
+      becoming tears showed themselves modestly in Regina&rsquo;s magnificent eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius started out of his chair, and walked away to the window. That last
+      reference to Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s pecuniary cares was more than he had patience
+      to endure. &ldquo;She can&rsquo;t even forget her uncle and his bank,&rdquo; he thought,
+      &ldquo;when I am speaking to her of our marriage!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He kept his face hidden from her, at the window. By some subtle process of
+      association which he was unable to trace, the image of Simple Sally rose
+      in his mind. An irresistible influence forced him to think of her&mdash;not
+      as the poor, starved, degraded, half-witted creature of the streets, but
+      as the grateful girl who had asked for no happier future than to be his
+      servant, who had dropped senseless at his feet at the bare prospect of
+      parting with him. His sense of self-respect, his loyalty to his betrothed
+      wife, resolutely resisted the unworthy conclusion to which his own
+      thoughts were leading him. He turned back again to Regina; he spoke so
+      loudly and so vehemently that the gathering flow of her tears was
+      suspended in surprise. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re right, you&rsquo;re quite right, my dear! I ought
+      to give you time, of course. I try to control my hasty temper, but I don&rsquo;t
+      always succeed&mdash;just at first. Pray forgive me; it shall be exactly
+      as you wish.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Regina forgave him, with a gentle and ladylike astonishment at the
+      excitable manner in which he made his excuses. She even neglected her
+      embroidery, and put her face up to him to be kissed. &ldquo;You are so nice,
+      dear,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;when you are not violent and unreasonable. It is such a
+      pity you were brought up in America. Won&rsquo;t you stay to lunch?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Happily for Amelius, the footman appeared at this critical moment with a
+      message: &ldquo;My mistress wishes particularly to see you, sir, before you go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This was the first occasion, in the experience of the lovers, on which
+      Mrs. Farnaby had expressed her wishes through the medium of a servant,
+      instead of appearing personally. The curiosity of Regina was mildly
+      excited. &ldquo;What a very odd message!&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;what does it mean? My aunt
+      went out earlier than usual this morning, and I have not seen her since. I
+      wonder whether she is going to consult you about my uncle&rsquo;s affairs?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll go and see,&rdquo; said Amelius.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And stay to lunch?&rdquo; Regina reiterated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not to-day, my dear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To-morrow, then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, to-morrow.&rdquo; So he escaped. As he opened the door, he looked back,
+      and kissed his hand. Regina raised her head for a moment, and smiled
+      charmingly. She was hard at work again over her embroidery.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 5
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The door of Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s ground-floor room, at the back of the house,
+      was partially open. She was on the watch for Amelius.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come in!&rdquo; she cried, the moment he appeared in the hall. She pulled him
+      into the room, and shut the door with a bang. Her face was flushed, her
+      eyes were wild. &ldquo;I have something to tell you, you dear good fellow,&rdquo; she
+      burst out excitedly&mdash;&ldquo;Something in confidence, between you and me!&rdquo;
+       She paused, and looked at him with sudden anxiety and alarm. &ldquo;What&rsquo;s the
+      matter with you?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sight of the room, the reference to a secret, the prospect of another
+      private conference, forced back the mind of Amelius, in one breathless
+      instant, to his first memorable interview with Mrs. Farnaby. The mother&rsquo;s
+      piteously hopeful words, in speaking of her lost daughter, rang in his
+      ears again as if they had just fallen from her lips. &ldquo;She may be lost in
+      the labyrinth of London.... To-morrow, or ten years hence, you <i>might</i>
+      meet with her.&rdquo; There were a hundred chances against it&mdash;a thousand,
+      ten thousand chances against it. The startling possibility flashed across
+      his brain, nevertheless, like a sudden flow of daylight across the dark.
+      <i>&ldquo;Have</i> I met with her, at the first chance?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wait,&rdquo; he cried; &ldquo;I have something to say before you speak to me. Don&rsquo;t
+      deceive yourself with vain hopes. Promise me that, before I begin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She waved her hand derisively. &ldquo;Hopes?&rdquo; she repeated; &ldquo;I have done with
+      hopes, I have done with fears&mdash;I have got to certainties, at last!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He was too eager to heed anything that she said to him; his whole soul was
+      absorbed in the coming disclosure. &ldquo;Two nights since,&rdquo; he went on, &ldquo;I was
+      wandering about London, and I met&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She burst out laughing. &ldquo;Go on!&rdquo; she cried, with a wild derisive gaiety.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius stopped, perplexed and startled. &ldquo;What are you laughing at?&rdquo; he
+      asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go on!&rdquo; she repeated. &ldquo;I defy you to surprise me. Out with it! Whom did
+      you meet?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius proceeded doubtfully, by a word at a time. &ldquo;I met a poor girl in
+      the streets,&rdquo; he said, steadily watching her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She changed completely at those words; she looked at him with an aspect of
+      stern reproach. &ldquo;No more of it,&rdquo; she interposed; &ldquo;I have not waited all
+      these miserable years for such a horrible end as that.&rdquo; Her face suddenly
+      brightened; a radiant effusion of tenderness and triumph flowed over it,
+      and made it young and happy again. &ldquo;Amelius!&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;listen to this.
+      My dream has come true&mdash;my girl is found! Thanks to you, though you
+      don&rsquo;t know it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius looked at her. Was she speaking of something that had really
+      happened? or had she been dreaming again?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Absorbed in her own happiness, she made no remark on his silence. &ldquo;I have
+      seen the woman,&rdquo; she went on. &ldquo;This bright blessed morning I have seen the
+      woman who took her away in the first days of her poor little life. The
+      wretch swears she was not to blame. I tried to forgive her. Perhaps I
+      almost did forgive her, in the joy of hearing what she had to tell me. I
+      should never have heard it, Amelius, if you had not given that glorious
+      lecture. The woman was one of your audience. She would never have spoken
+      of those past days; she would never have thought of me&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At those words, Mrs. Farnaby abruptly stopped, and turned her face away
+      from Amelius. After waiting a little, finding her still silent, still
+      immovable, he ventured on putting a question.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you sure you are not deceived?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;I remember you told me
+      that rogues had tried to impose on you, in past times when you employed
+      people to find her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have proof that I am not being imposed upon,&rdquo; Mrs. Farnaby answered,
+      still keeping her face hidden from him. &ldquo;One of them knows of the fault in
+      her foot.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One of them?&rdquo; Amelius repeated. &ldquo;How many of them are there?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Two. The old woman, and a young man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are their names?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They won&rsquo;t tell me their names yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t that a little suspicious?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One of them knows,&rdquo; Mrs. Farnaby reiterated, &ldquo;of the fault in her foot.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May I ask which of them knows? The old woman, I suppose?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, the young man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s strange, isn&rsquo;t it? Have you seen the young man?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know nothing of him, except the little that the woman told me. He has
+      written me a letter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May I look at it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I daren&rsquo;t let you look at it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius said no more. If he had felt the smallest suspicion that the
+      disclosure volunteered by Mrs. Farnaby, at their first interview, had been
+      overheard by the unknown person who had opened the swinging window in the
+      kitchen, he might have recalled Phoebe&rsquo;s vindictive language at his
+      lodgings, and the doubts suggested to him by his discovery of the vagabond
+      waiting for her in the street. As it was, he was simply puzzled. The one
+      plain conclusion to his mind was, unhappily, the natural conclusion after
+      what he had heard&mdash;that Mrs. Farnaby had no sort of interest in the
+      discovery of Simple Sally, and that he need trouble himself with no
+      further anxiety in that matter. Strange as Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s mysterious
+      revelation seemed, her correspondent&rsquo;s knowledge of the fault in the foot
+      was circumstance in his favour, beyond dispute. Amelius still wondered
+      inwardly how it was that the woman who had taken charge of the child had
+      failed to discover what appeared to be known to another person. If he had
+      been aware that Mrs. Sowler&rsquo;s occupation at the time was the occupation of
+      a &ldquo;baby-farmer,&rdquo; and that she had many other deserted children pining
+      under her charge, he might have easily understood that she was the last
+      person in the world to trouble herself with a minute examination of any
+      one of the unfortunate little creatures abandoned to her drunken and
+      merciless neglect. Jervy had satisfied himself, before he trusted her with
+      his instructions, that she knew no more than the veriest stranger of any
+      peculiarity in one or the other of the child&rsquo;s feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Interpreting Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s last reply to him as an intimation that their
+      interview was at an end, Amelius took up his hat to go.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope with all my heart,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that what has begun so well will end
+      well. If there is any service that I can do for you&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She drew nearer to him, and put her hand gently on his shoulder. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t
+      think that I distrust you,&rdquo; she said very earnestly; &ldquo;I am unwilling to
+      shock you&mdash;that is all. Even this great joy has a dark side to it; my
+      miserable married life casts its shadow on everything that happens to me.
+      Keep secret from everybody the little that I have told you&mdash;you will
+      ruin me if you say one word of it to any living creature. I ought not to
+      have opened my heart to you&mdash;but how could I help it, when the
+      happiness that is coming to me has come through you? When you say good-bye
+      to me to-day, Amelius, you say good-bye to me for the last time in this
+      house. I am going away. Don&rsquo;t ask me why&mdash;that is one more among the
+      things which I daren&rsquo;t tell you! You shall hear from me, or see me&mdash;I
+      promise that. Give me some safe address to write to; some place where
+      there are no inquisitive women who may open my letter in your absence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She handed him her pocket-book. Amelius wrote down in it the address of
+      his club.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She took his hand. &ldquo;Think of me kindly,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;And, once more, don&rsquo;t
+      be afraid of my being deceived. There is a hard part of me still left
+      which keeps me on my guard. The old woman tried, this morning, to make me
+      talk to her about that little fault we know of in my child&rsquo;s foot. But I
+      thought to myself, &lsquo;If you had taken a proper interest in my poor baby
+      while she was with you, you must sooner or later have found it out.&rsquo; Not a
+      word passed my lips. No, no, don&rsquo;t be anxious when you think of me. I am
+      as sharp as they are; I mean to find out how the man who wrote to me
+      discovered what he knows; he shall satisfy me, I promise you, when I see
+      him or hear from him next. All this is between ourselves strictly,
+      sacredly between ourselves. Say nothing&mdash;I know I can trust you.
+      Good-bye, and forgive me for having been so often in your way with Regina.
+      I shall never be in your way again. Marry her, if you think she is good
+      enough for you; I have no more interest now in your being a roving
+      bachelor, meeting with girls here, there, and everywhere. You shall know
+      how it goes on. Oh, I am so happy!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She burst into tears, and signed to Amelius with a wild gesture of treaty
+      to leave her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He pressed her hand in silence, and went out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Almost as the door closed on him, the variable woman changed again. For a
+      while she walked rapidly to and fro, talking to herself. The course of her
+      tears ceased. Her lips closed firmly; her eyes assumed an expression of
+      savage resolve. She sat down at the table and opened her desk. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll read
+      it once more,&rdquo; she said to herself, &ldquo;before I seal it up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She took from her desk a letter of her own writing, and spread it out
+      before her. With her elbows on the table, and her hands clasped fiercely
+      in her hair, she read these lines addressed to her husband:&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      JOHN FARNABY,&mdash;I have always suspected that you had something to do
+      with the disappearance of our child. I know for certain now that you
+      deliberately cast your infant daughter on the mercy of the world, and
+      condemned your wife to a life of wretchedness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t suppose that I have been deceived! I have spoken with the woman who
+      waited by the garden-paling at Ramsgate, and who took the child from your
+      hands. She saw you with me at the lecture; and she is absolutely sure that
+      you are the man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thanks to the meeting at the lecture-hall, I am at last on the trace of
+      my lost daughter. This morning I heard the woman&rsquo;s story. She kept the
+      child, on the chance of its being reclaimed, until she could afford to
+      keep it no longer. She met with a person who was willing to adopt it, and
+      who took it away with her to a foreign country, not mentioned to me yet.
+      In that country my daughter is still living, and will be restored to me on
+      conditions which will be communicated in a few days&rsquo; time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Some of this story may be true, and some of it may be false; the woman
+      may be lying to serve her own interests with me. Of one thing I am sure&mdash;my
+      girl is identified, by means known to me of which there can be no doubt.
+      And she must be still living, because the interest of the persons treating
+      with me is an interest in her life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When you receive this letter, on your return from business to-night, I
+      shall have left you, and left you for ever. The bare thought of even
+      looking at you again fills me with horror. I have my own income, and I
+      mean to take my own way. In your best interests I warn you, make no
+      attempt to trace me. I declare solemnly that, rather than let your
+      deserted daughter be polluted by the sight of you, I would kill you with
+      my own hand, and die for it on the scaffold. If she ever asks for her
+      father, I will do you one service. For the honour of human nature, I will
+      tell her that her father is dead. It will not be all a falsehood. I
+      repudiate you and your name&mdash;you are dead to me from this time forth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I sign myself by my father&rsquo;s name&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;EMMA RONALD.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She had said herself that she was unwilling to shock Amelius. This was the
+      reason.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After thinking a little, she sealed and directed the letter. This done,
+      she unlocked the wooden press which had once contained the baby&rsquo;s frock
+      and cap, and those other memorials of the past which she called her &ldquo;dead
+      consolations.&rdquo; After satisfying herself that the press was empty, she
+      wrote on a card, &ldquo;To be called for by a messenger from my bankers&rdquo;&mdash;and
+      tied the card to a tin box in a corner, secured by a padlock. She lifted
+      the box, and placed it in front of the press, so that it might be easily
+      visible to any one entering the room. The safe keeping of her treasures
+      provided for, she took the sealed letter, and, ascending the stairs,
+      placed it on the table in her husband&rsquo;s dressing-room. She hurried out
+      again, the instant after, as if the sight of the place were intolerable to
+      her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Passing to the other end of the corridor, she entered her own bedchamber,
+      and put on her bonnet and cloak. A leather handbag was on the bed. She
+      took it up, and looked round the large luxurious room with a shudder of
+      disgust. What she had suffered, within those four walls, no human creature
+      knew but herself. She hurried out, as she had hurried out of her husband&rsquo;s
+      dressing-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her niece was still in the drawing-room. As she reached the door, she
+      hesitated, and stopped. The girl was a good girl, in her own dull placid
+      way&mdash;and her sister&rsquo;s daughter, too. A last little act of kindness
+      would perhaps be a welcome act to remember. She opened the door so
+      suddenly that Regina started, with a small cry of alarm. &ldquo;Oh, aunt, how
+      you frighten one! Are you going out?&rdquo; &ldquo;Yes; I&rsquo;m going out,&rdquo; was the short
+      answer. &ldquo;Come here. Give me a kiss.&rdquo; Regina looked up in wide-eyed
+      astonishment. Mrs. Farnaby stamped impatiently on the floor. Regina rose,
+      gracefully bewildered. &ldquo;My dear aunt, how very odd!&rdquo; she said&mdash;and
+      gave the kiss demanded, with a serenely surprised elevation of her finely
+      shaped eyebrows. &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Mrs. Farnaby; &ldquo;that&rsquo;s it&mdash;one of my
+      oddities. Go back to your work. Good-bye.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She left the room, as abruptly as she had entered it. With her firm heavy
+      step she descended to the hall, passed out at the house door, and closed
+      it behind her&mdash;never to return to it again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 6
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Amelius left Mrs. Farnaby, troubled by emotions of confusion and alarm,
+      which he was the last man living to endure patiently. Her extraordinary
+      story of the discovered daughter, the still more startling assertion of
+      her solution to leave the house, the absence of any plain explanation, the
+      burden of secrecy imposed on him&mdash;all combined together to irritate
+      his sensitive nerves. &ldquo;I hate mysteries,&rdquo; he thought; &ldquo;and ever since I
+      landed in England, I seem fated to be mixed up in them. Does she really
+      mean to leave her husband and her niece? What will Farnaby do? What will
+      become of Regina?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      To think of Regina was to think of the new repulse of which he had been
+      made the subject. Again he had appealed to her love for him, and again she
+      had refused to marry him at his own time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was especially perplexed and angry, when he reflected on the
+      unassailably strong influence which her uncle appeared to have over her.
+      All Regina&rsquo;s sympathy was with Mr. Farnaby and his troubles. Amelius might
+      have understood her a little better, if she had told him what had passed
+      between her uncle and herself on the night of Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s return, in a
+      state of indignation, from the lecture. In terror of the engagement being
+      broken off, she had been forced to confess that she was too fond of
+      Amelius to prevail on herself to part with him. If he attempted a second
+      exposition of his Socialist principles on the platform, she owned that it
+      might be impossible to receive him again as a suitor. But she pleaded hard
+      for the granting of a pardon to the first offence, in the interests of her
+      own tranquillity, if not in mercy to Amelius. Mr. Farnaby, already
+      troubled by his commercial anxieties, had listened more amiably, and also
+      more absently, than usual; and had granted her petition with the ready
+      indulgence of a preoccupied man. It had been decided between them that the
+      offence of the lecture should be passed over in discreet silence. Regina&rsquo;s
+      gratitude for this concession inspired her sympathy with her uncle in his
+      present state of suspense. She had been sorely tempted to tell Amelius
+      what had happened. But the natural reserve of her character&mdash;fortified,
+      in this instance, by the defensive pride which makes a woman unwilling,
+      before marriage, to confess her weakness unreservedly to the man who has
+      caused it&mdash;had sealed her lips. &ldquo;When he is a little less violent and
+      a little more humble,&rdquo; she thought, &ldquo;perhaps I may tell him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      So it fell out that Amelius took his way through the streets, a mystified
+      and an angry man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Arrived in sight of the hotel, he stopped, and looked about him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was impossible to disguise from himself that a lurking sense of regret
+      was making itself felt, in his present frame of mind, when he thought of
+      Simple Sally. In all probability, he would have quarrelled with any man
+      who had accused him of actually lamenting the girl&rsquo;s absence, and wanting
+      her back again. He happened to recollect her artless blue eyes, with their
+      vague patient look, and her quaint childish questions put so openly in so
+      sweet a voice&mdash;and that was all. Was there anything reprehensible, if
+      you please, in an act of remembrance? Comforting himself with these
+      considerations, he moved on again a step or two&mdash;and stopped once
+      more. In his present humour, he shrank from facing Rufus. The American
+      read him like a book; the American would ask irritating questions. He
+      turned his back on the hotel, and looked at his watch. As he took it out,
+      his finger and thumb touched something else in his waistcoat-pocket. It
+      was the card that Regina had given to him&mdash;the card of the cottage to
+      let. He had nothing to do, and nowhere to go. Why not look at the cottage?
+      If it proved to be not worth seeing, the Zoological Gardens were in the
+      neighbourhood&mdash;and there are periods in a man&rsquo;s life when he finds
+      the society that walks on four feet a welcome relief from the society that
+      walks on two.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a fairly fine day. He turned northward towards the Regent&rsquo;s Park.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The cottage was in a by-road, just outside the park: a cottage in the
+      strictest sense of the word. A sitting-room, a library, and a bedroom&mdash;all
+      of small proportions&mdash;and, under them a kitchen and two more rooms,
+      represented the whole of the little dwelling from top to bottom. It was
+      simply and prettily furnished; and it was completely surrounded by its own
+      tiny plot of garden-ground. The library especially was a perfect little
+      retreat, looking out on the back garden; peaceful and shady, and adorned
+      with bookcases of old carved oak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius had hardly looked round the room, before his inflammable brain was
+      on fire with a new idea. Other idle men in trouble had found the solace
+      and the occupation of their lives in books. Why should he not be one of
+      them? Why not plunge into study in this delightful retirement&mdash;and
+      perhaps, one day, astonish Regina and Mr. Farnaby by bursting on the world
+      as the writer of a famous book? Exactly as Amelius, two days since, had
+      seen himself in the future, a public lecturer in receipt of glorious fees&mdash;so
+      he now saw himself the celebrated scholar and writer of a new era to come.
+      The woman who showed the cottage happened to mention that a gentleman had
+      already looked over it that morning, and had seemed to like it. Amelius
+      instantly gave her a shilling, and said, &ldquo;I take it on the spot.&rdquo; The
+      wondering woman referred him to the house-agent&rsquo;s address, and kept at a
+      safe distance from the excitable stranger as she let him out. In less than
+      another hour, Amelius had taken the cottage, and had returned to the hotel
+      with a new interest in life and a new surprise for Rufus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As usual, in cases of emergency, the American wasted no time in talking.
+      He went out at once to see the cottage, and to make his own inquiries of
+      the agent. The result amply proved that Amelius had not been imposed upon.
+      If he repented of his bargain, the gentleman who had first seen the
+      cottage was ready to take it off his hands, at a moment&rsquo;s notice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Going back to the Hotel, Rufus found Amelius resolute to move into his new
+      abode, and eager for the coming life of study and retirement. Knowing
+      perfectly well before-hand how this latter project would end, the American
+      tried the efficacy of a little worldly temptation. He had arranged, he
+      said, &ldquo;to have a good time of it in Paris&rdquo;; and he proposed that Amelius
+      should be his companion. The suggestion produced not the slightest effect;
+      Amelius talked as if he was a confirmed recluse, in the decline of life.
+      &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; he said, with the most amazing gravity; &ldquo;I prefer the company
+      of my books, and the seclusion of my study.&rdquo; This declaration was followed
+      by more selling-out of money in the Funds, and by a visit to a bookseller,
+      which left a handsome pecuniary result inscribed on the right side of the
+      ledger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On the next day, Amelius presented himself towards two o&rsquo;clock at Mr.
+      Farnaby&rsquo;s house. He was not so selfishly absorbed in his own projects as
+      to forget Mrs. Farnaby. On the contrary, he was honestly anxious for news
+      of her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A certain middle-aged man of business has been briefly referred to, in
+      these pages, as one of Regina&rsquo;s faithful admirers, patiently submitting to
+      the triumph of his favoured young rival. This gentleman, issuing from his
+      carriage with his card-case ready in his hand, met Amelius at the door,
+      with a face which announced plainly that a catastrophe had happened. &ldquo;You
+      have heard the sad news, no doubt?&rdquo; he said, in a rich bass voice attuned
+      to sadly courteous tones. The servant opened the door before Amelius could
+      answer. After a contest of politeness, the middle-aged gentleman consented
+      to make his inquiries first. &ldquo;How is Mr. Farnaby? No better? And Miss
+      Regina? Very poorly, oh? Dear, dear me! Say I called, if you please.&rdquo; He
+      handed in two cards, with a severe enjoyment of the melancholy occasion
+      and the rich bass sounds of his own voice. &ldquo;Very sad, is it not?&rdquo; he said,
+      addressing his youthful rival with an air of paternal indulgence. &ldquo;Good
+      morning.&rdquo; He bowed with melancholy grace, and got into his carriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius looked after the prosperous merchant, as the prancing horses drew
+      him away. &ldquo;After all,&rdquo; he thought bitterly, &ldquo;she might be happier with
+      that rich prig than she could be with me.&rdquo; He stepped into the hall, and
+      spoke to the servant. The man had his message ready. Miss Regina would see
+      Mr. Goldenheart, if he would be so good as to wait in the dinning-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Regina appeared, pale and scared; her eyes inflamed with weeping. &ldquo;Oh,
+      Amelius, can you tell me what this dreadful misfortune means? Why has she
+      left us? When she sent for you yesterday, what did she say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In his position, Amelius could make but one answer. &ldquo;Your aunt said she
+      thought of going away. But,&rdquo; he added, with perfect truth, &ldquo;she refused to
+      tell me why, or where she was going. I am quite as much at a loss to
+      understand her as you are. What does your uncle propose to do?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s conduct, as described by Regina, thickened the mystery&mdash;he
+      proposed to do nothing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had been found on the hearth-rug in his dressing-room; having
+      apparently been seized with a fit, in the act of burning some paper. The
+      ashes were discovered close by him, just inside the fender. On his
+      recovery, his first anxiety was to know if a letter had been burnt.
+      Satisfied on this point, he had ordered the servants to assemble round his
+      bed, and had peremptorily forbidden them to open the door to their
+      mistress, if she ever returned at any future time to the house. Regina&rsquo;s
+      questions and remonstrances, when she was left alone with him, were
+      answered, once for all, in these pitiless terms:&mdash;&ldquo;If you wish to
+      deserve the fatherly interest that I take in you, do as I do: forget that
+      such a person as your aunt ever existed. We shall quarrel, if you ever
+      mention her name in my hearing again.&rdquo; This said, he had instantly changed
+      the subject; instructing Regina to write an excuse to &ldquo;Mr. Melton&rdquo;
+       (otherwise, the middle-aged rival), with whom he had been engaged to dine
+      that evening. Relating this latter event, Regina&rsquo;s ever-ready gratitude
+      overflowed in the direction of Mr. Melton. &ldquo;He was so kind! he left his
+      guests in the evening, and came and sat with my uncle for nearly an hour.&rdquo;
+       Amelius made no remark on this; he led the conversation back to the
+      subject of Mrs. Farnaby. &ldquo;She once spoke to me of her lawyers,&rdquo; he said.
+      &ldquo;Do <i>they</i> know nothing about her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The answer to this question showed that the sternly final decision of Mr.
+      Farnaby was matched by equal resolution on the part of his wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One of the partners in the legal firm had called that morning, to see
+      Regina on a matter of business. Mrs. Farnaby had appeared at the office on
+      the previous day, and had briefly expressed her wish to make a small
+      annual provision for her niece, in case of future need. Declining to enter
+      into any explanation, she had waited until the necessary document had been
+      drawn out; had requested that Regina might be informed of the
+      circumstance; and had then taken her departure in absolute silence.
+      Hearing that she had left her husband, the lawyer, like every one else,
+      was completely at a loss to understand what it meant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what does the doctor say?&rdquo; Amelius asked next.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My uncle is to be kept perfectly quiet,&rdquo; Regina answered; &ldquo;and is not to
+      return to business for some time to come. Mr. Melton, with his usual
+      kindness, has undertaken to look after his affairs for him. Otherwise, my
+      uncle, in his present state of anxiety about the bank, would never have
+      consented to obey the doctor&rsquo;s orders. When he can safely travel, he is
+      recommended to go abroad for the winter, and get well again in some warmer
+      climate. He refuses to leave his business&mdash;and the doctor refuses to
+      take the responsibility. There is to be a consultation of physicians
+      tomorrow. Oh, Amelius, I was really fond of my aunt&mdash;I am
+      heart-broken at this dreadful change!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a momentary silence. If Mr. Melton had been present, he would
+      have said a few neatly sympathetic words. Amelius knew no more than a
+      savage of the art of conventional consolation. Tadmor had made him
+      familiar with the social and political questions of the time, and had
+      taught him to speak in public. But Tadmor, rich in books and newspapers,
+      was a powerless training institution in the matter of small talk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Suppose Mr. Farnaby is obliged to go abroad,&rdquo; he suggested, after waiting
+      a little, &ldquo;what will you do?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Regina looked at him, with an air of melancholy surprise. &ldquo;I shall do my
+      duty, of course,&rdquo; she answered gravely. &ldquo;I shall accompany my dear uncle,
+      if he wishes it.&rdquo; She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. &ldquo;It is time
+      he took his medicine,&rdquo; she resumed; &ldquo;you will excuse me, I am sure.&rdquo; She
+      shook hands, not very warmly&mdash;and hastened out of the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius left the house, with a conviction which disheartened him&mdash;the
+      conviction that he had never understood Regina, and that he was not likely
+      to understand her in the future. He turned for relief to the consideration
+      of Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s strange conduct, under the domestic disaster which had
+      befallen him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Recalling what he had observed for himself, and what he had heard from
+      Mrs. Farnaby when she had first taken him into her confidence, he inferred
+      that the subject of the lost child had not only been a subject of
+      estrangement between the husband and wife, but that the husband was, in
+      some way, the person blamable for it. Assuming this theory to be the right
+      one, there would be serious obstacles to the meeting of the mother and
+      child, in the mother&rsquo;s home. The departure of Mrs. Farnaby was, in that
+      case, no longer unintelligible&mdash;and Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s otherwise
+      inexplicable conduct had the light of a motive thrown on it, which might
+      not unnaturally influence a hard-hearted man weary alike of his wife and
+      his wife&rsquo;s troubles. Arriving at this conclusion by a far shorter process
+      than is here indicated, Amelius pursued the subject no further. At the
+      time when he had first visited the Farnabys, Rufus had advised him to
+      withdraw from closer intercourse with them, while he had the chance. In
+      his present mood, he was almost in danger of acknowledging to himself that
+      Rufus had proved to be right.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He lunched with his American friend at the hotel. Before the meal was over
+      Mrs. Payson called, to say a few cheering words about Sally.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was not to be denied that the girl remained persistently silent and
+      reserved. In other respects the report was highly favourable. She was
+      obedient to the rules of the house; she was always ready with any little
+      services that she could render to her companions; and she was so eager to
+      improve herself, by means of her reading-lessons and writing-lessons, that
+      it was not easy to induce her to lay aside her book and her slate. When
+      the teacher offered her some small reward for her good conduct, and asked
+      what she would like, the sad little face brightened, and the faithful
+      creature&rsquo;s answer was always the same&mdash;&ldquo;I should like to know what he
+      is doing now.&rdquo; (Alas for Sally!&mdash;&ldquo;he&rdquo; meant Amelius.)
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must wait a little longer before you write to her,&rdquo; Mrs. Payson
+      concluded, &ldquo;and you must not think of seeing her for some time to come. I
+      know you will help us by consenting to this&mdash;for Sally&rsquo;s sake.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius bowed in silence. He would not have confessed what he felt, at
+      that moment, to any living soul&mdash;it is doubtful if he even confessed
+      it to himself. Mrs. Payson, observing him with a woman&rsquo;s keen sympathy,
+      relented a little. &ldquo;I might give her a message,&rdquo; the good lady suggested&mdash;&ldquo;just
+      to say you are glad to hear she is behaving so well.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you give her this?&rdquo; Amelius asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He took from his pocket a little photograph of the cottage, which he had
+      noticed on the house-agent&rsquo;s desk, and had taken away with him. &ldquo;It is <i>my</i>
+      cottage now,&rdquo; he explained, in tones that faltered a little; &ldquo;I am going
+      to live there; Sally might like to see it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sally <i>shall</i> see it,&rdquo; Mrs. Payson agreed&mdash;&ldquo;if you will only
+      let me take this away first.&rdquo; She pointed to the address of the cottage,
+      printed under the photograph. Past experience in the Home made her
+      reluctant to trust Sally with the address in London at which Amelius was
+      to be found.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus produced a huge complex knife, out of the depths of which a pair of
+      scissors burst on touching a spring. Mrs. Payson cut off the address, and
+      placed the photograph in her pocket-book. &ldquo;Now,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;Sally will be
+      happy, and no harm can come of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve known you, ma&rsquo;am, nigh on twenty years,&rdquo; Rufus remarked. &ldquo;I do
+      assure you that&rsquo;s the first rash observation I ever heard from your lips.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0036" id="link2H_4_0036">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      BOOK THE SEVENTH. THE VANISHING HOPES
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 1
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      Two days later, Amelius moved into his cottage.
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      He had provided himself with a new servant, as easily as he had provided
+      himself with a new abode. A foreign waiter at the hotel&mdash;a
+      gray-haired Frenchman of the old school, reputed to be the most
+      ill-tempered servant in the house&mdash;had felt the genial influence of
+      Amelius with the receptive readiness of his race. Here was a young
+      Englishman, who spoke to him as easily and pleasantly as if he was
+      speaking to a friend&mdash;who heard him relate his little grievances, and
+      never took advantage of that circumstance to turn him into ridicule&mdash;who
+      said kindly, &ldquo;I hope you don&rsquo;t mind my calling you by your nickname,&rdquo; when
+      he ventured to explain that his Christian name was &ldquo;Theophile,&rdquo; and that
+      his English fellow servants had facetiously altered and shortened it to
+      &ldquo;Toff,&rdquo; to suit their insular convenience. &ldquo;For the first time, sir,&rdquo; he
+      had hastened to add, &ldquo;I feel it an honour to be Toff, when <i>you</i>
+      speak to me.&rdquo; Asking everybody whom he met if they could recommend a
+      servant to him, Amelius had put the question, when Toff came in one
+      morning with the hot water. The old Frenchman made a low bow, expressive
+      of devotion. &ldquo;I know of but one man, sir, whom I can safely recommend,&rdquo; he
+      answered&mdash;&ldquo;take me.&rdquo; Amelius was delighted; he had only one objection
+      to make. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t want to keep two servants,&rdquo; he said, while Toff was
+      helping him on with his dressing-gown. &ldquo;Why should you keep two servants,
+      sir?&rdquo; the Frenchman inquired. Amelius answered, &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t ask you to make
+      the beds.&rdquo; &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo; said Toff&mdash;and made the bed, then and there, in
+      five minutes. He ran out of the room, and came back with one of the
+      chambermaid&rsquo;s brooms. &ldquo;Judge for yourself, sir&mdash;can I sweep a
+      carpet?&rdquo; He placed a chair for Amelius. &ldquo;Permit me to save you the trouble
+      of shaving yourself. Are you satisfied? Very good. I am equally capable of
+      cutting your hair, and attending to your corns (if you suffer, sir, from
+      that inconvenience). Will you allow me to propose something which you have
+      not had yet for your breakfast?&rdquo; In half an hour more, he brought in the
+      new dish. &ldquo;Oeufs a la Tripe. An elementary specimen, sir, of what I can do
+      for you as a cook. Be pleased to taste it.&rdquo; Amelius ate it all up on the
+      spot; and Toff applied the moral, with the neatest choice of language.
+      &ldquo;Thank you, sir, for a gratifying expression of approval. One more
+      specimen of my poor capabilities, and I have done. It is barely possible&mdash;God
+      forbid!&mdash;that you may fall ill. Honour me by reading that document.&rdquo;
+       He handed a written paper to Amelius, dated some years since in Paris, and
+      signed in an English name. &ldquo;I testify with gratitude and pleasure that
+      Theophile Leblond has nursed me through a long illness, with an
+      intelligence and devotion which I cannot too highly praise.&rdquo; &ldquo;May you
+      never employ me, sir, in that capacity,&rdquo; said Toff. &ldquo;I have only to add
+      that I am not so old as I look, and that my political opinions have
+      changed, in later life, from red-republican to moderate-liberal. I also
+      confess, if necessary, that I still have an ardent admiration for the fair
+      sex.&rdquo; He laid his hand on his heart, and waited to be engaged.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So the household at the cottage was modestly limited to Amelius and Toff.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus remained for another week in London, to watch the new experiment. He
+      had made careful inquiries into the Frenchman&rsquo;s character, and had found
+      that the complaints of his temper really amounted to this&mdash;that &ldquo;he
+      gave himself the airs of a gentleman, and didn&rsquo;t understand a joke.&rdquo; On
+      the question of honesty and sobriety, the testimony of the proprietor of
+      the hotel left Rufus nothing to desire. Greatly to his surprise, Amelius
+      showed no disposition to grow weary of his quiet life, or to take refuge
+      in perilous amusements from the sober society of his books. He was regular
+      in his inquiries at Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s house; he took long walks by himself; he
+      never mentioned Sally&rsquo;s name; he lost his interest in going to the
+      theatre, and he never appeared in the smoking-room of the club. Some men,
+      observing the remarkable change which had passed over his excitable
+      temperament, would have hailed it as a good sign for the future. The New
+      Englander looked below the surface, and was not so easily deceived. &ldquo;My
+      bright boy&rsquo;s soul is discouraged and cast down,&rdquo; was the conclusion that
+      he drew. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s darkness in him where there once was light; and, what&rsquo;s
+      worse than all, he caves in, and keeps it to himself.&rdquo; After vainly trying
+      to induce Amelius to open his heart, Rufus at last went to Paris, with a
+      mind that was ill at ease.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On the day of the American&rsquo;s departure, the march of events was resumed;
+      and the unnaturally quiet life of Amelius began to be disturbed again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Making his customary inquiries in the forenoon at Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s door, he
+      found the household in a state of agitation. A second council of
+      physicians had been held, in consequence of the appearance of some
+      alarming symptoms in the case of the patient. On this occasion, the
+      medical men told him plainly that he would sacrifice his life to his
+      obstinacy, if he persisted in remaining in London and returning to his
+      business. By good fortune, the affairs of the bank had greatly benefited,
+      through the powerful interposition of Mr. Melton. With the improved
+      prospects, Mr. Farnaby (at his niece&rsquo;s entreaty) submitted to the doctor&rsquo;s
+      advice. He was to start on the first stage of his journey the next
+      morning; and, at his own earnest desire, Regina was to go with him. &ldquo;I
+      hate strangers and foreigners; and I don&rsquo;t like being alone. If you don&rsquo;t
+      go with me, I shall stay where I am&mdash;and die.&rdquo; So Mr. Farnaby put it
+      to his adopted daughter, in his rasping voice and with his hard frown.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am grieved, dear Amelius, to go away from you,&rdquo; Regina said; &ldquo;but what
+      can I do? It would have been so nice if you could have gone with us. I did
+      hint something of the sort; but&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her downcast face finished the sentence. Amelius felt the bare idea of
+      being Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s travelling companion make his blood run cold. And Mr.
+      Farnaby, on his side, reciprocated the sentiment. &ldquo;I will write
+      constantly, dear,&rdquo; Regina resumed; &ldquo;and you will write back, won&rsquo;t you?
+      Say you love me; and promise to come tomorrow morning, before we go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She kissed him affectionately&mdash;and, the instant after, checked the
+      responsive outburst of tenderness in Amelius, by that utter want of tact
+      which (in spite of the popular delusion to the contrary) is so much more
+      common in women than in men, &ldquo;My uncle is so particular about packing his
+      linen,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;nobody can please him but me; I must ask you to let me
+      run upstairs again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius went out into the street, with his head down and his lips fast
+      closed. He was not far from Mrs. Payson&rsquo;s house. &ldquo;Why shouldn&rsquo;t I call?&rdquo;
+       he thought to himself. His conscience added, &ldquo;And hear some news of
+      Sally.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was good news. The girl was brightening mentally and physically&mdash;she
+      was in a fair way, if she only remained in the Home, to be &ldquo;Simple&rdquo; Sally
+      no longer. Amelius asked if she had got the photograph of the cottage.
+      Mrs. Payson laughed. &ldquo;Sleeps with it under her pillow, poor child,&rdquo; she
+      said, &ldquo;and looks at it fifty times a day.&rdquo; Thirty years since, with
+      infinitely less experience to guide her, the worthy matron would have
+      followed her instincts, and would have hesitated to tell Amelius quite so
+      much about the photograph. But some of a woman&rsquo;s finer sensibilities do
+      get blunted with the advance of age and the accumulation of wisdom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Instead of pursuing the subject of Sally&rsquo;s progress, Amelius, to Mrs.
+      Payson&rsquo;s surprise, made a clumsy excuse, and abruptly took his leave.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He felt the need of being alone; he was conscious of a vague distrust of
+      himself, which degraded him in his own estimation. Was he, like characters
+      he had read of in books, the victim of a fatality? The slightest
+      circumstances conspired to heighten his interest in Sally&mdash;just at
+      the time when Regina had once more disappointed him. He was as firmly
+      convinced, as if he had been the strictest moralist living, that it was an
+      insult to Regina, and an insult to his own self-respect, to set the lost
+      creature whom he had rescued in any light of comparison with the young
+      lady who was one day to be his wife. And yet, try as he might to drive her
+      out, Sally kept her place in his thoughts. There was, apparently, some
+      innate depravity in him. If a looking-glass had been handed to him at that
+      moment, he would have been ashamed to look himself in the face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After walking until he was weary, he went to his club.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The porter gave him a letter as he crossed the hall. Mrs. Farnaby had kept
+      her promise, and had written to him. The smoking-room was deserted at that
+      time of day. He opened his letter in solitude, looked at it, crumpled it
+      up impatiently, and put it into his pocket. Not even Mrs. Farnaby could
+      interest him at that critical moment. His own affairs absorbed him. The
+      one idea in his mind, after what he had heard about Sally, was the idea of
+      making a last effort to hasten the date of his marriage before Mr. Farnaby
+      left England. &ldquo;If I can only feel sure of Regina&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His thoughts went no further than that. He walked up and down the empty
+      smoking-room, anxious and irritable, dissatisfied with himself, despairing
+      of the future. &ldquo;I can but try it!&rdquo; he suddenly decided&mdash;and turned at
+      once to the table to write a letter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Death had been busy with the members of his family in the long interval
+      that had passed since he and his father left England. His nearest
+      surviving relative was his uncle&mdash;his father&rsquo;s younger brother&mdash;who
+      occupied a post of high importance in the Foreign Office. To this
+      gentleman he now wrote, announcing his arrival in England, and his anxiety
+      to qualify himself for employment in a Government office. &ldquo;Be so good as
+      to grant me an interview,&rdquo; he concluded; &ldquo;and I hope to satisfy you that I
+      am not unworthy of your kindness, if you will exert your influence in my
+      favour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He sent away his letter at once by a private messenger, with instructions
+      to wait for an answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was not without doubt, and even pain, that he had opened communication
+      with a man whose harsh treatment of his father it was impossible for him
+      to forget. What could the son expect? There was but one hope. Time might
+      have inclined the younger brother to make atonement to the memory of the
+      elder, by a favourable reception of his nephew&rsquo;s request.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His father&rsquo;s last words of caution, his own boyish promise not to claim
+      kindred with his relations in England, were vividly present to the mind of
+      Amelius, while he waited for the return of the messenger. His one
+      justification was in the motives that animated him. Circumstances, which
+      his father had never anticipated, rendered it an act of duty towards
+      himself to make the trial at least of what his family interest could do
+      for him. There could be no sort of doubt that a man of Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s
+      character would yield, if Amelius could announce that he had the promise
+      of an appointment under Government&mdash;with the powerful influence of a
+      near relation to accelerate his promotion. He sat, idly drawing lines on
+      the blotting-paper; at one moment regretting that he had sent his letter;
+      at another, comforting himself in the belief that, if his father had been
+      living to advise him, his father would have approved of the course that he
+      had taken.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The messenger returned with these lines of reply:&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Under any ordinary circumstances, I should have used my influence to help
+      you on in the world. But, when you not only hold the most abominable
+      political opinions, but actually proclaim those opinions in public, I am
+      amazed at your audacity in writing to me. There must be no more
+      communication between us. While you are a Socialist, you are a stranger to
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius accepted this new rebuff with ominous composure. He sat quietly
+      smoking in the deserted room, with his uncle&rsquo;s letter in his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Among the other disastrous results of the lecture, some of the newspapers
+      had briefly reported it. Preoccupied by his anxieties, Amelius had
+      forgotten this when he wrote to his relative. &ldquo;Just like me!&rdquo; he thought,
+      as he threw the letter into the fire. His last hopes floated up the
+      chimney, with the tiny puff of smoke from the burnt paper. There was now
+      no other chance of shortening the marriage engagement left to try. He had
+      already applied to the good friend whom he had mentioned to Regina. The
+      answer, kindly written in this case, had not been very encouraging:&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have other claims to consider. All that I can do, I will do. Don&rsquo;t be
+      disheartened&mdash;I only ask you to wait.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius rose to go home&mdash;and sat down again. His natural energy
+      seemed to have deserted him&mdash;it required an effort to leave the club.
+      He took up the newspapers, and threw them aside, one after another. Not
+      one of the unfortunate writers and reporters could please him on that
+      inauspicious day. It was only while he was lighting his second cigar that
+      he remembered Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s unread letter to him. By this time, he was
+      more than weary of his own affairs. He read the letter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I find the people who have my happiness at their mercy both dilatory and
+      greedy.&rdquo; (Mrs. Farnaby wrote); &ldquo;but the little that I can persuade them to
+      tell me is very favourable to my hopes. I am still, to my annoyance, only
+      in personal communication with the hateful old woman. The young man either
+      sends messages, or writes to me through the post. By this latter means he
+      has accurately described, not only in which of my child&rsquo;s feet the fault
+      exists, but the exact position which it occupies. Here, you will agree
+      with me, is positive evidence that he is speaking the truth, whoever he
+      is.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But for this reassuring circumstance, I should feel inclined to be
+      suspicious of some things&mdash;of the obstinate manner, for instance, in
+      which the young man keeps himself concealed; also, of his privately
+      warning me not to trust the woman who is his own messenger, and not to
+      tell her on any account of the information which his letters convey to me.
+      I feel that I ought to be cautious with him on the question of money&mdash;and
+      yet, in my eagerness to see my darling, I am ready to give him all that he
+      asks for. In this uncertain state of mind, I am restrained, strangely
+      enough, by the old woman herself. She warns me that he is the sort of man,
+      if he once gets the money, to spare himself the trouble of earning it. It
+      is the one hold I have over him (she says)&mdash;so I control the burning
+      impatience that consumes me as well as I can.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No! I must not attempt to describe my own state of mind. When I tell you
+      that I am actually afraid of dying before I can give my sweet love the
+      first kiss, you will understand and pity me. When night comes, I feel
+      sometimes half mad.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I send you my present address, in the hope that you will write and cheer
+      me a little. I must not ask you to come and see me yet. I am not fit for
+      it&mdash;and, besides, I am under a promise, in the present state of the
+      negotiations, to shut the door on my friends. It is easy enough to do
+      that; I have no friend, Amelius, but you.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Try to feel compassionately towards me, my kind-hearted boy. For so many
+      long years, my heart has had nothing to feed on but the one hope that is
+      now being realized at last. No sympathy between my husband and me (on the
+      contrary, a horrid unacknowledged enmity, which has always kept us apart);
+      my father and mother, in their time both wretched about my marriage, and
+      with good reason; my only sister dying in poverty&mdash;what a life for a
+      childless woman! don&rsquo;t let us dwell on it any longer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Goodbye for the present, Amelius. I beg you will not think I am always
+      wretched. When I want to be happy, I look to the coming time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This melancholy letter added to the depression that weighed on the spirits
+      of Amelius. It inspired him with vague fears for Mrs. Farnaby. In her own
+      interests, he would have felt himself tempted to consult Rufus (without
+      mentioning names), if the American had been in London. As things were, he
+      put the letter back in his pocket with a sigh. Even Mrs. Farnaby, in her
+      sad moments, had a consoling prospect to contemplate. &ldquo;Everybody but me!&rdquo;
+       Amelius thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His reflections were interrupted by the appearance of an idle young member
+      of the club, with whom he was acquainted. The new-comer remarked that he
+      looked out of spirits, and suggested that they should dine together and
+      amuse themselves somewhere in the evening. Amelius accepted the proposal:
+      any man who offered him a refuge from himself was a friend to him on that
+      day. Departing from his temperate habits, he deliberately drank more than
+      usual. The wine excited him for the time, and then left him more depressed
+      than ever; and the amusements of the evening produced the same result. He
+      returned to his cottage so completely disheartened, that he regretted the
+      day when he had left Tadmor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But he kept his appointment, the next morning, to take leave of Regina.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The carriage was at the door, with a luggage-laden cab waiting behind it.
+      Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s ill-temper vented itself in predictions that they would be
+      too late to catch the train. His harsh voice, alternating with Regina&rsquo;s
+      meek remonstrances, reached the ears of Amelius from the breakfast-room.
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;m not going to wait for the gentleman-Socialist,&rdquo; Mr. Farnaby
+      announced, with his hardest sarcasm of tone. &ldquo;Dear uncle, we have a
+      quarter of an hour to spare!&rdquo; &ldquo;We have nothing of the sort; we want all
+      that time to register the luggage.&rdquo; The servant&rsquo;s voice was heard next.
+      &ldquo;Mr. Goldenheart, miss.&rdquo; Mr. Farnaby instantly stepped into the hall.
+      &ldquo;Goodbye!&rdquo; he called to Amelius, through the open door of the dining-room&mdash;and
+      passed straight on to the carriage. &ldquo;I shan&rsquo;t wait, Regina!&rdquo; he shouted,
+      from the doorstep. &ldquo;Let him go by himself!&rdquo; said Amelius indignantly, as
+      Regina hurried into the room. &ldquo;Oh, hush, hush, dear! Suppose he heard you?
+      No week shall pass without my writing to you; promise you will write back,
+      Amelius. One more kiss! Oh, my dear!&rdquo; The servant interposed, keeping
+      discreetly out of sight. &ldquo;I beg your pardon, miss, my master wishes to
+      know whether you are going with him or not.&rdquo; Regina waited to hear no
+      more. She gave her lover a farewell look to remember her by, and ran out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That innate depravity which Amelius had lately discovered in his own
+      nature, let the forbidden thoughts loose in him again as he watched the
+      departing carriage from the door. &ldquo;If poor little Sally had been in her
+      place&mdash;!&rdquo; He made an effort of virtuous resolution, and stopped
+      there. &ldquo;What a blackguard a man may be,&rdquo; he penitently reflected, &ldquo;without
+      suspecting it himself!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He descended the house-steps. The discreet servant wished him good
+      morning, with a certain cheery respect&mdash;the man was delighted to have
+      seen the last of his hard master for some months to come. Amelius stopped
+      and turned round, smiling grimly. He was in such a reckless humour, that
+      he was even ready to divert his mind by astonishing a footman. &ldquo;Richard,&rdquo;
+       he said, &ldquo;are you engaged to be married?&rdquo; Richard stared in blank surprise
+      at the strange question&mdash;and modestly admitted that he was engaged to
+      marry the housemaid next door. &ldquo;Soon?&rdquo; asked Amelius, swinging his stick.
+      &ldquo;As soon as I have saved a little more money, sir.&rdquo; &ldquo;Damn the money!&rdquo;
+       cried Amelius&mdash;and struck his stick on the pavement, and walked away
+      with a last look at the house as if he hated the sight of it. Richard
+      watched the departing young gentleman, and shook his head ominously as he
+      shut the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 2
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Amelius went straight back to the cottage, with the one desperate purpose
+      of reverting to the old plan, and burying himself in his books. Surveying
+      his well-filled shelves with an impatience unworthy of a scholar, Hume&rsquo;s
+      &ldquo;History of England&rdquo; unhappily caught his eye. He took down the first
+      volume. In less than half an hour he discovered that Hume could do nothing
+      for him. Wisely inspired, he turned to the truer history next, which men
+      call fiction. The writings of the one supreme genius, who soars above all
+      other novelists as Shakespeare soars above all other dramatists&mdash;the
+      writings of Walter Scott&mdash;had their place of honour in his library.
+      The collection of the Waverley Novels at Tadmor had not been complete.
+      Enviable Amelius had still to read <i>Rob Roy.</i> He opened the book. For
+      the rest of the day he was in love with Diana Vernon; and when he looked
+      out once or twice at the garden to rest his eyes, he saw &ldquo;Andrew
+      Fairservice&rdquo; busy over the flowerbeds.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He closed the last page of the noble story as Toff came in to lay the
+      cloth for dinner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The master at table and the servant behind his chair were accustomed to
+      gossip pleasantly during meals. Amelius did his best to carry on the talk
+      as usual. But he was no longer in the delightful world of illusion which
+      Scott had opened to him. The hard realities of his own everyday life had
+      gathered round him again. Observing him with unobtrusive attention, the
+      Frenchman soon perceived the absence of the easy humour and the excellent
+      appetite which distinguished his young master at other times.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May I venture to make a remark, sir?&rdquo; Toff inquired, after a long pause
+      in the conversation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And may I take the liberty of expressing my sentiments freely?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course you may.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear sir, you have a pretty little simple dinner to-day,&rdquo; Toff began.
+      &ldquo;Forgive me for praising myself, I am influenced by the natural pride of
+      having cooked the dinner. For soup, you have Croute au pot; for meat, you
+      have Tourne-dos a la sauce poivrade; for pudding, you have Pommes au
+      beurre. All so nice&mdash;and you hardly eat anything, and your amiable
+      conversation falls into a melancholy silence which fills me with regret.
+      Is it you who are to blame for this? No, sir! it is the life you lead. I
+      call it the life of a monk; I call it the life of a hermit&mdash;I say
+      boldly it is the life of all others which is most unsympathetic to a young
+      man like you. Pardon the warmth of my expressions; I am eager to make my
+      language the language of utmost delicacy. May I quote a little song? It is
+      in an old, old, old French piece, long since forgotten, called &lsquo;Les Maris
+      Garcons&rsquo;. There are two lines in that song (I have often heard my good
+      father sing them) which I will venture to apply to your case; &lsquo;Amour,
+      delicatesse, et gaite; D&rsquo;un bon Francais c&rsquo;est la devise!&rsquo; Sir, you have
+      naturally delicatesse and gaite&mdash;but the last has, for some days,
+      been under a cloud. What is wanted to remove that cloud? L&rsquo;Amour! Love, as
+      you say in English. Where is the charming woman, who is the only ornament
+      wanting to this sweet cottage? Why is she still invisible? Remedy that
+      unhappy oversight, sir. You are here in a suburban Paradise. I consult my
+      long experience; and I implore you to invite Eve.&mdash;Ha! you smile;
+      your lost gaiety returns, and you feel it as I do. Might I propose another
+      glass of claret, and the reappearance on the table of the Tourne-dos a la
+      poivrade?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was impossible to be melancholy in this man&rsquo;s company. Amelius
+      sanctioned the return of the Tourne-dos, and tried the other glass of
+      claret. &ldquo;My good friend,&rdquo; he said, with something like a return of his old
+      easy way, &ldquo;you talk about charming women, and your long experience. Let&rsquo;s
+      hear what your experience has been.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For the first time Toff began to look a little confused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have honoured me, sir, by calling me your good friend,&rdquo; he said.
+      &ldquo;After that, I am sure you will not send me away if I own the truth. No!
+      My heart tells me I shall not appeal to your indulgence in vain. Dear sir,
+      in the holidays which you kindly give me, I provide competent persons to
+      take care of the house in my absence, don&rsquo;t I? One person, if you
+      remember, was a most handsome engaging young man. He is, if you please, my
+      son by my first wife&mdash;now an angel in heaven. Another person, who
+      took care of the house, on the next occasion, was a little black-eyed boy;
+      a miracle of discretion for his age. He is my son by my second wife&mdash;now
+      another angel in heaven. Forgive me, I have not done yet. Some few days
+      since, you thought you heard an infant crying downstairs. Like a miserable
+      wretch, I lied; I declared it was the infant in the next house. Ah, sir,
+      it was my own cherubim baby by my third wife&mdash;an angel close by in
+      the Edgeware Road, established in a small milliner shop, which will expand
+      to great things by-and-by. The intervals between my marriages are not
+      worthy of your notice. Fugitive caprices, sir&mdash;fugitive caprices! To
+      sum it all up (as you say in England), it is not in me to resist the
+      enchanting sex. If my third angel dies, I shall tear my hair&mdash;but I
+      shall none the less take a fourth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take a dozen if you like,&rdquo; said Amelius. &ldquo;Why should you have kept all
+      this from my knowledge?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Toff hung his head. &ldquo;I think it was one of my foreign mistakes,&rdquo; he
+      pleaded. &ldquo;The servants&rsquo; advertisements in your English newspapers frighten
+      me. How does the most meritorious manservant announce himself when he
+      wants the best possible place? He says he is &lsquo;without encumbrances.&rsquo; 
+      Gracious heaven, what a dreadful word to describe the poor pretty harmless
+      children! I was afraid, sir, you might have some English objection to <i>my</i>
+      &lsquo;encumbrances.&rsquo; A young man, a boy, and a cherubim-baby; not to speak of
+      the sacred memories of two women, and the charming occasional society of a
+      third; all inextricably enveloped in the life of one amorous-meritorious
+      French person&mdash;surely there was reason for hesitation here? No
+      matter; I bless my stars I know better now, and I withdraw myself from
+      further notice. Permit me to recall your attention to the Roquefort
+      cheese, and a mouthful of potato-salad to correct the richness of him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The dinner was over at last. Amelius was alone again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a still evening. Not a breath of wind stirred among the trees in
+      the garden; no vehicles passed along the by-road in which the cottage
+      stood. Now and then, Toff was audible downstairs, singing French songs in
+      a high cracked voice, while he washed the plates and dishes, and set
+      everything in order for the night. Amelius looked at his bookshelves&mdash;and
+      felt that, after <i>Rob Roy,</i> there was no more reading for him that
+      evening. The slow minutes followed one another wearily; the deadly
+      depression of the earlier hours of the day was stealthily fastening its
+      hold on him again. How might he best resist it? His healthy out-of-door
+      habits at Tadmor suggested the only remedy that he could think of. Be his
+      troubles what they might, his one simple method of resisting them, at all
+      other times, was his simple method now. He went out for a walk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For two hours he rambled about the great north-western suburb of London.
+      Perhaps he felt the heavy oppressive weather, or perhaps his good dinner
+      had not agreed with him. Any way, he was so thoroughly worn out, that he
+      was obliged to return to the cottage in a cab.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Toff opened the door&mdash;but not with his customary alacrity. Amelius
+      was too completely fatigued to notice any trifling circumstance.
+      Otherwise, he would certainly have perceived something odd in the old
+      Frenchman&rsquo;s withered face. He looked at his master, as he relieved him of
+      his hat and coat, with the strangest expression of interest and anxiety;
+      modified by a certain sardonic sense of amusement underlying the more
+      serious emotions. &ldquo;A nasty dull evening,&rdquo; Amelius said wearily. And Toff,
+      always eager to talk at other times, only answered, &ldquo;Yes, sir&rdquo;&mdash;and
+      retreated at once to the kitchen regions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The fire was bright; the curtains were drawn; the reading-lamp, with its
+      ample green shade, was on the table&mdash;a more comfortable room no man
+      could have found to receive him after a long walk. Reclining at his ease
+      in his chair, Amelius thought of ringing for some restorative
+      brandy-and-water. While he was thinking, he fell asleep; and, while he
+      slept, he dreamed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Was it a dream?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He certainly saw the library&mdash;not fantastically transformed, but just
+      like what the room really was. So far, he might have been wide awake,
+      looking at the familiar objects round him. But, after a while, an event
+      happened which set the laws of reality at defiance. Simple Sally, miles
+      away in the Home, made her appearance in the library, nevertheless. He saw
+      the drawn curtains over the window parted from behind; he saw the girl
+      step out from them, and stop, looking at him timidly. She was clothed in
+      the plain dress that he had bought for her; and she looked more charming
+      in it than ever. The beauty of health claimed kindred now, in her pretty
+      face, with the beauty of youth: the wan cheeks had begun to fill out, and
+      the pale lips were delicately suffused with their natural rosy red. Little
+      by little her first fears seemed to subside. She smiled, and softly
+      crossed the room, and stood at his side. After looking at him with a rapt
+      expression of tenderness and delight, she laid her hands on the arm of the
+      chair, and said, in the quaintly quiet way which he remembered so well, &ldquo;I
+      want to kiss you.&rdquo; She bent over him, and kissed him with the innocent
+      freedom of a child. Then she raised herself again, and looked backwards
+      and forwards between Amelius and the lamp. &ldquo;The firelight is the best,&rdquo;
+       she said. Darkness fell over the room as she spoke; he saw her no more; he
+      heard her no more. A blank interval followed; there flowed over him the
+      oblivion of perfect sleep. His next conscious sensation was a feeling of
+      cold&mdash;he shivered, and woke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The impression of the dream was in his mind at the moment of waking. He
+      started as he raised himself in the chair. Was he dreaming still? No; he
+      was certainly awake. And, as certainly, the room was dark!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked and looked. It was not to be denied, or explained away. There
+      was the fire burning low, and leaving the room chilly&mdash;and there,
+      just visible on the table, in the flicker of the dying flame, was the
+      extinguished lamp!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He mended the fire, and put his hand on the bell to ring for Toff, and
+      thought better of it. What need had he of the lamplight? He was too weary
+      for reading; he preferred going to sleep again, and dreaming again of
+      Sally. Where was the harm in dreaming of the poor little soul, so far away
+      from him? The happiest part of his life now was the part of it that was
+      passed in sleep.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As the fresh coals began to kindle feebly, he looked again at the lamp. It
+      was odd, to say the least of it, that the light should have accidentally
+      gone out, exactly at the right time to realize the fanciful extinction of
+      it in his dream. How was it there was no smell of a burnt-out lamp? He was
+      too lazy, or too tired, to pursue the question. Let the mystery remain a
+      mystery&mdash;and let him rest in peace! He settled himself fretfully in
+      his chair. What a fool he was to bother his head about a lamp, instead of
+      closing his eyes and going to sleep again!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The room began to recover its pleasant temperature. He shifted the cushion
+      in the chair, so that it supported his head in perfect comfort, and
+      composed himself to rest. But the capricious influences of sleep had
+      deserted him: he tried one position after another, and all in vain. It was
+      a mere mockery even to shut his eyes. He resigned himself to
+      circumstances, and stretched out his legs, and looked at the companionable
+      fire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Of late he had thought more frequently than usual of his past days in the
+      Community. His mind went back again now to that bygone time. The clock on
+      the mantelpiece struck nine. They were all at supper, at Tadmor&mdash;talking
+      over the events of the day. He saw himself again at the long wooden table,
+      with shy little Mellicent in the chair next to him, and his favourite dog
+      at his feet waiting to be fed. Where was Mellicent now? It was a sad
+      letter that she had written to him, with the strange fixed idea that he
+      was to return to her one day. There was something very winning and lovable
+      about the poor creature who had lived such a hard life at home, and had
+      suffered so keenly. It was a comfort to think that she would go back to
+      the Community. What happier destiny could she hope for? Would she take
+      care of his dog for him when she went back? They had all promised to be
+      kind to his pet animals in his absence; but the dog was fond of Mellicent;
+      he would be happier with Mellicent than with the rest of them. And his
+      little tame fawn, and his birds&mdash;how were they doing? He had not even
+      written to inquire after them; he had been cruelly forgetful of those
+      harmless dumb loving friends. In his present solitude, in his dreary
+      doubts of the future, what would he not give to feel the dog nestling in
+      his bosom, and the fawn&rsquo;s little rough tongue licking his hand! His heart
+      ached as he thought of it: a choking hysterical sensation oppressed his
+      breathing. He tried to rise, and ring for lights, and rouse his manhood to
+      endure and resist. It was not to be done. Where was his courage? where was
+      the cheerfulness which had never failed him at other time? He sank back in
+      the chair, and hid his face in his hands for shame at his own weakness,
+      and burst out crying.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The touch of soft persuasive fingers suddenly thrilled through him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His hands were gently drawn away from his face; a familiar voice, sweet
+      and low, said, &ldquo;Oh, don&rsquo;t cry!&rdquo; Dimly through his tears he saw the
+      well-remembered little figure standing between him and the fire. In his
+      unendurable loneliness, he had longed for his dog, he had longed for his
+      fawn. There was the martyred creature from the streets, whom he had
+      rescued from nameless horror, waiting to be his companion, servant,
+      friend! There was the child-victim of cold and hunger, still only feeling
+      her way to womanhood; innocent of all other aspirations, so long as she
+      might fill the place which had once been occupied by the dog and the fawn!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius looked at her with a momentary doubt whether he was waking or
+      sleeping. &ldquo;Good God!&rdquo; he cried, &ldquo;am I dreaming again?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; she said, simply. &ldquo;You are awake this time. Let me dry your eyes; I
+      know where you put your handkerchief.&rdquo; She perched on his knee, and wiped
+      away the tears, and smoothed his hair over his forehead. &ldquo;I was frightened
+      to show myself till I heard you crying,&rdquo; she confessed. &ldquo;Then I thought,
+      &lsquo;Come! he can&rsquo;t be angry with me now&rsquo;&mdash;and I crept out from behind
+      the curtains there. The old man let me in. I can&rsquo;t live without seeing
+      you; I&rsquo;ve tried till I could try no longer. I owned it to the old man when
+      he opened the door. I said, &lsquo;I only want to look at him; won&rsquo;t you let me
+      in?&rsquo; And he says, &lsquo;God bless me, here&rsquo;s Eve come already!&rsquo; I don&rsquo;t know
+      what he meant&mdash;he let me in, that&rsquo;s all I care about. He&rsquo;s a funny
+      old foreigner. Send him away; I&rsquo;m to be your servant now. Why were you
+      crying? I&rsquo;ve cried often enough about You. No; that can&rsquo;t be&mdash;I can&rsquo;t
+      expect you to cry about <i>me;</i> I can only expect you to scold me. I
+      know I&rsquo;m a bad girl.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She cast one doubtful look at him, and hung her head&mdash;waiting to be
+      scolded. Amelius lost all control over himself. He took her in his arms
+      and kissed her again and again. &ldquo;You are a dear good grateful little
+      creature!&rdquo; he burst out&mdash;and suddenly stopped, aware too late of the
+      act of imprudence which he had committed. He put her away from him; he
+      tried to ask severe questions, and to administer merited reproof. Even if
+      he had succeeded, Sally was too happy to listen to him. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s all right
+      now,&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m never, never, never to go back to the Home! Oh, I&rsquo;m
+      so happy! Let&rsquo;s light the lamp again!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She found the matchbox on the chimneypiece. In a minute more the room was
+      bright. Amelius sat looking at her, perfectly incapable of deciding what
+      he ought to say or do next. To complete his bewilderment, the voice of the
+      attentive old Frenchman made itself heard through the door, in discreetly
+      confidential tones.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have prepared an appetising little supper, sir,&rdquo; said Toff. &ldquo;Be pleased
+      to ring when you and the young lady are ready.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 3
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Toff&rsquo;s interference proved to have its use. The announcement of the little
+      supper&mdash;plainly implying Simple Sally&rsquo;s reception at the cottage&mdash;reminded
+      Amelius of his responsibilities. He at once stepped out into the passage,
+      and closed the door behind him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The old Frenchman was waiting to be reprimanded or thanked, as the case
+      might be, with his head down, his shoulders shrugged up to his ears, and
+      the palms of his hands spread out appealingly on either side of him&mdash;a
+      model of mute resignation to circumstances.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know that you have put me in a very awkward position?&rdquo; Amelius
+      began.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Toff lifted one of his hands to his heart. &ldquo;You are aware of my weakness,
+      sir. When that charming little creature presented herself at the door,
+      sinking with fatigue, I could no more resist her than I could take a
+      hop-skip-and-jump over the roof of this cottage. If I have done wrong,
+      take no account of the proud fidelity with which I have served you&mdash;tell
+      me to pack up and go; but don&rsquo;t ask me to assume a position of severity
+      towards that enchanting Miss. It is not in my heart to do it,&rdquo; said Toff,
+      lifting his eyes with tearful solemnity to an imaginary heaven. &ldquo;On my
+      sacred word of honour as a Frenchman, I would die rather than do it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t talk nonsense,&rdquo; Amelius rejoined a little impatiently. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t
+      blame you&mdash;but you have got me into a scrape, for all that. If I did
+      my duty, I should send for a cab, and take her back.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Toff opened his twinkling old eyes in a perfect transport of astonishment.
+      &ldquo;What!&rdquo; he cried, &ldquo;take her back? Without rest, without supper? And you
+      call that duty? How inconceivably ugly does duty look when it assumes an
+      inhospitable aspect towards a woman! Pardon me, sir; I must express my
+      sentiments or I shall burst. You will say perhaps that I have no
+      conception of duty? Pardon me again&mdash;my conception of duty is <i>here!&rdquo;</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He threw open the door of the sitting-room. In spite of his anxiety,
+      Amelius burst out laughing. The Frenchman&rsquo;s inexhaustible contrivances had
+      transformed the sitting-room into a bedroom for Sally. The sofa had become
+      a snug little white bed; a hairbrush and comb, and a bottle of
+      eau-de-cologne, were on the table; a bath stood near the fire, with cans
+      of hot and cold water, and a railway rug placed under them to save the
+      carpet. &ldquo;I dare not presume to contradict you, sir,&rdquo; said Toff, &ldquo;but there
+      is <i>my</i> conception of duty! In the kitchen, I have another
+      conception, keeping warm; you can smell it up the stairs. Salmi of
+      partridge, with the littlest possible dash of garlic in the sauce. Oh,
+      sir, let that angel rest and refresh herself! Virtuous severity, believe
+      me, is a most horribly unbecoming virtue at your age!&rdquo; He spoke quite
+      seriously, with the air of a profound moralist, asserting principles that
+      did equal honour to his head and his heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius went back to the library.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sally was resting in the easy-chair; her position showed plainly that she
+      was suffering from fatigue. &ldquo;I have had a long, long walk,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;and
+      I don&rsquo;t know which aches worst, my back or my feet. I don&rsquo;t care&mdash;I&rsquo;m
+      quite happy now I&rsquo;m here.&rdquo; She nestled herself comfortably in the chair.
+      &ldquo;Do you mind my looking at you?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;Oh, it&rsquo;s so long since I saw
+      you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a new undertone of tenderness in her voice&mdash;innocent
+      tenderness that openly avowed itself. The reviving influences of the life
+      at the Home had done much&mdash;and had much yet left to do. Her wasted
+      face and figure were filling out, her cheeks and lips were regaining their
+      lovely natural colour, as Amelius had seen in his dream. But her eyes, in
+      repose, still resumed their vacantly patient look; and her manner, with a
+      perceptible increase of composure and confidence, had not lost its quaint
+      childish charm. Her growth from girl to woman was a growth of fine
+      gradations, guided by the unerring deliberation of Nature and Time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you think they will follow you here, from the Home?&rdquo; Amelius asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked at the clock. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think so,&rdquo; she said quietly. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s hours
+      since I slipped out by the back door. They have very strict rules about
+      runaway girls&mdash;even when their friends bring them back. If <i>you</i>
+      send me back&mdash;&rdquo; she stopped, and looked thoughtfully into the fire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What will you do, if I send you back?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What one of our girls did, before they took her in at the Home. She
+      jumped into the river. &lsquo;Made a hole in the water&rsquo;; that&rsquo;s how she calls
+      it. She&rsquo;s a big strong girl; and they got her out, and saved her. She says
+      it wasn&rsquo;t painful, till they brought her to again. I&rsquo;m little and weak&mdash;I
+      don&rsquo;t think they could bring <i>me</i> to life, if they tried.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius made a futile attempt to reason with her. He even got so far as to
+      tell her that she had done very wrong to leave the Home. Sally&rsquo;s answer
+      set all further expostulation at defiance. Instead of attempting to defend
+      herself, she sighed wearily, and said, &ldquo;I had no money; I walked all the
+      way here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The well-intended remonstrances of Amelius were lost in compassionate
+      surprise. &ldquo;You poor little soul!&rdquo; he exclaimed, &ldquo;it must be seven or eight
+      miles at least!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I dare say,&rdquo; said Sally. &ldquo;It don&rsquo;t matter, now I&rsquo;ve found you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But how did you find me? Who told you where I lived?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She smiled, and took from her bosom the photograph of the cottage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But Mrs. Payson cut off the address!&rdquo; cried Amelius, bursting out with
+      the truth in the impulse of the moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sally turned over the photograph, and pointed to the back of the card, on
+      which the photographer&rsquo;s name and address were printed. &ldquo;Mrs. Payson
+      didn&rsquo;t think of this,&rdquo; she said shyly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did <i>you</i> think of it?&rdquo; Amelius asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sally shook her head. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m too stupid,&rdquo; she replied. &ldquo;The girl who made
+      the hole in the water put me up to it. &lsquo;Have you made up your mind to run
+      away?&rsquo; she says. And I said, &lsquo;Yes.&rsquo; &lsquo;You go to the man who did the
+      picture,&rsquo; she says; &lsquo;he knows where the place is, I&rsquo;ll be bound.&rsquo; I asked
+      my way till I found him. And he did know. And he told me. He was a good
+      sort; he gave me a glass of beer, he said I looked so tired. I said we&rsquo;d
+      go and have our portraits taken some day&mdash;you, and your servant. May
+      I tell the funny old foreigner that he is to go away now I have come to
+      you?&rdquo; The complete simplicity with which she betrayed her jealousy of Toff
+      made Amelius smile. Sally, watching every change in his face, instantly
+      drew her own conclusion. &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; she said cheerfully, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll keep your room
+      cleaner than he keeps it! I smelt dust on the curtains when I was hiding
+      from you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius thought of his dream. &ldquo;Did you come out while I was asleep?&rdquo; he
+      asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; I wasn&rsquo;t frightened of you, when you were asleep. I had a good look
+      at you; and I gave you a kiss.&rdquo; She made that confession without the
+      slightest sign of confusion; her calm blue eyes looked him straight in the
+      face. &ldquo;You got restless,&rdquo; she went on; &ldquo;and I got frightened again. I put
+      out the lamp. I says to myself, &lsquo;If he does scold me, I can bear it better
+      in the dark.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius listened, wondering. Had he seen drowsily what he thought he had
+      dreamed, or was there some mysterious sympathy between Sally and himself?
+      The occult speculations were interrupted by Sally. &ldquo;May I take off my
+      bonnet, and make myself tidy?&rdquo; she asked. Some men might have said No.
+      Amelius was not one of them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The library possessed a door of communication with the sitting-room; the
+      bedchamber occupied by Amelius being on the other side of the cottage.
+      When Sally saw Toff&rsquo;s reconstructed room, she stood at the door, in
+      speechless admiration of the vision of luxury revealed to her. From time
+      to time Amelius, alone in the library, heard her dabbling in her bath, and
+      humming the artless old English song from which she had taken her name.
+      Once she knocked at the closed door, and made a request through it&mdash;&ldquo;There
+      is scent on the table; may I have some?&rdquo; And once Toff knocked at the
+      other door, opening into the passage, and asked when &ldquo;pretty young Miss&rdquo;
+       would be ready for supper. Events went on in the little household as if
+      Sally had become an integral part of it already. &ldquo;What <i>am</i> I to do?&rdquo;
+       Amelius asked himself. And Toff, entering at the moment to lay the cloth,
+      answered respectfully, &ldquo;Hurry the young person, sir, or the salmi will be
+      spoilt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She came out from her room, walking delicately on her sore feet&mdash;so
+      fresh and charming, that Toff, absorbed in admiration, made a mistake in
+      folding a napkin for the first time in his life. &ldquo;Champagne, of course,
+      sir?&rdquo; he said in confidence to Amelius. The salmi of partridge appeared;
+      the inspiriting wine sparkled in the glasses; Toff surpassed himself in
+      all the qualities which made a servant invaluable at a supper table. Sally
+      forgot the Home, forgot the cruel streets, and laughed and chattered as
+      gaily as the happiest girl living. Amelius, expanding in the joyous
+      atmosphere of youth and good spirits, shook off his sense of
+      responsibility, and became once more the delightful companion who won
+      everybody&rsquo;s love. The effervescent gaiety of the evening was at its
+      climax; the awful forms of duty, propriety, and good sense had been long
+      since laughed out of the room&mdash;when Nemesis, goddess of retribution,
+      announced her arrival outside, by a crashing of carriage-wheels and a
+      peremptory ring at the cottage bell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was dead silence; Amelius and Sally looked at each other. The
+      experienced Toff at once guessed what had happened. &ldquo;Is it her father or
+      mother?&rdquo; he asked of Amelius, a little anxiously. Hearing that she had
+      never even seen her father or mother, he snapped his fingers joyously, and
+      led the way on tiptoe into the hall. &ldquo;I have my idea,&rdquo; he whispered. &ldquo;Let
+      us listen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A woman&rsquo;s voice, high, clear, and resolute, speaking apparently to the
+      coachman, was the next audible sound. &ldquo;Say I come from Mrs. Payson, and
+      must see Mr. Goldenheart directly.&rdquo; Sally trembled and turned pale. &ldquo;The
+      matron!&rdquo; she said faintly. &ldquo;Oh, don&rsquo;t let her in!&rdquo; Amelius took the
+      terrified girl back to the library. Toff followed them, respectfully
+      asking to be told what a &ldquo;matron&rdquo; was. Receiving the necessary
+      explanation, he expressed his contempt for matrons bent on carrying
+      charming persons into captivity, by opening the library door and spitting
+      into the hall. Having relieved his mind in this way, he returned to his
+      master and laid a lank skinny forefinger cunningly along the side of his
+      nose. &ldquo;I suppose, sir, you don&rsquo;t want to see this furious woman?&rdquo; he said.
+      Before it was possible to say anything in reply, another ring at the bell
+      announced that the furious woman wanted to see Amelius. Toff read his
+      master&rsquo;s wishes in his master&rsquo;s face. Not even this emergency could find
+      him unprepared: he was as ready to circumvent a matron as to cook a
+      dinner. &ldquo;The shutters are up, and the curtains are drawn,&rdquo; he reminded
+      Amelius. &ldquo;Not a morsel of light is visible outside. Let them ring&mdash;we
+      have all gone to bed.&rdquo; He turned to Sally, grinning with impish enjoyment
+      of his own stratagem. &ldquo;Ha, Miss! what do you think of that?&rdquo; There was a
+      third pull at the bell as he spoke. &ldquo;Ring away, Missess Matrone!&rdquo; he
+      cried. &ldquo;We are fast asleep&mdash;wake us if you can.&rdquo; The fourth ring was
+      the last. A sharp crack revealed the breaking of the bellwire, and was
+      followed by the shrill fall of the iron handle on the pavement before the
+      garden gate. The gate, like the palings, was protected at the top from
+      invading cats. &ldquo;Compose yourself, Miss,&rdquo; said Toff, &ldquo;if she tries to get
+      over the gate, she will stick on the spikes.&rdquo; In another moment, the sound
+      of retiring carriage-wheels announced the defeat of the matron, and
+      settled the serious question of receiving Sally for the night.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She sat silent by the window, when Toff had left the room, holding back
+      the curtains and looking out at the murky sky.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are you looking for?&rdquo; Amelius asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was looking for the stars.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius joined her at the window. &ldquo;There are no stars to be seen tonight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She let the curtain fall to again. &ldquo;I was thinking of night-time at the
+      Home,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;You see, I got on pretty well, in the day, with my
+      reading and writing. I wanted so to improve myself. My mind was troubled
+      with the fear of your despising such an ignorant creature as I am; so I
+      kept on at my lessons. I thought I might surprise you by writing you a
+      pretty letter some day. One of the teachers (she&rsquo;s gone away ill) was very
+      good to me. I used to talk to her; and, when I said a wrong word, she took
+      me up, and told me the right one. She said you would think better of me
+      when you heard me speak properly&mdash;and I do speak better, don&rsquo;t I? All
+      this was in the day. It was the night that was the hard time to get
+      through&mdash;when the other girls were all asleep, and I had nothing to
+      think of but how far away I was from you. I used to get up, and put the
+      counterpane round me, and stand at the window. On fine nights the stars
+      were company to me. There were two stars, near together, that I got to
+      know. Don&rsquo;t laugh at me&mdash;I used to think one of them was you, and one
+      of them me. I wondered whether you would die, or I should die, before I
+      saw you again. And, most always, it was my star that went out first. Lord,
+      how I used to cry! It got into my poor stupid head that I should never see
+      you again. I do believe I ran away because of that. You won&rsquo;t tell
+      anybody, will you? It was so foolish, I am ashamed of it now. I wanted to
+      see your star and my star tonight. I don&rsquo;t know why. Oh, I&rsquo;m so fond of
+      you!&rdquo; She dropped on her knees, and took his hand, and put it on her head.
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s burning hot,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and your kind hand cools it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius raised her gently, and led her to the door of her room. &ldquo;My poor
+      Sally, you are quite worn out. You want rest and sleep. Let us say good
+      night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will do anything you tell me,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;If Mrs. Payson comes
+      tomorrow, you won&rsquo;t let her take me away? Thank you. Goodnight.&rdquo; She put
+      her hands on his shoulders, with innocent familiarity, and lifted herself
+      to him on tiptoe, and kissed him as a sister might have kissed him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Long after Sally was asleep in her bed, Amelius sat by the library fire,
+      thinking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The revival of the crushed feeling and fancy in the girl&rsquo;s nature, so
+      artlessly revealed in her sad little story of the stars that were &ldquo;company
+      to her,&rdquo; not only touched and interested him, but clouded his view of the
+      future with doubts and anxieties which had never troubled him until that
+      moment. The mysterious influences under which the girl&rsquo;s development was
+      advancing were working morally and physically together. Weeks might pass
+      harmlessly, months might pass harmlessly&mdash;but the time must come when
+      the innocent relations between them would be beset by peril. Unable, as
+      yet, fully to realize these truths, Amelius nevertheless felt them
+      vaguely. His face was troubled, as he lit the candle at last to go to his
+      bed. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t see my way as clearly as I could wish,&rdquo; he reflected. &ldquo;How
+      will it end?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      How indeed!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 4
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      At eight o&rsquo;clock the next morning, Amelius was awakened by Toff. A letter
+      had arrived, marked &ldquo;Immediate,&rdquo; and the messenger was waiting for an
+      answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The letter was from Mrs. Payson. She wrote briefly, and in formal terms.
+      After referring to the matron&rsquo;s fruitless visit to the cottage on the
+      previous night, Mrs. Payson proceeded in these words:&mdash;&ldquo;I request you
+      will immediately let me know whether Sally has taken refuge with you, and
+      has passed the night under your roof. If I am right in believing that she
+      has done so, I have only to inform you that the doors of the Home are
+      henceforth closed to her, in conformity with our rules. If I am wrong, it
+      will be my painful duty to lose no time in placing the matter in the hands
+      of the police.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius began his reply, acting on impulse as usual. He wrote, vehemently
+      remonstrating with Mrs. Payson on the unforgiving and unchristian nature
+      of the rules at the Home. Before he was halfway through his composition,
+      the person who had brought the letter sent a message to say that he was
+      expected back immediately, and that he hoped Mr. Goldenheart would not get
+      a poor man into trouble by keeping him much longer. Checked in the full
+      flow of his eloquence, Amelius angrily tore up the unfinished
+      remonstrance, and matched Mrs. Payson&rsquo;s briefly business-like language by
+      an answer in one line:&mdash;&ldquo;I beg to inform you that you are quite
+      right.&rdquo; On reflection, he felt that the second letter was not only
+      discourteous as a reply to a lady, but also ungrateful as addressed to
+      Mrs. Payson personally. At the third attempt, he wrote becomingly as well
+      as briefly. &ldquo;Sally has passed the night here, as my guest. She was
+      suffering from severe fatigue; it would have been an act of downright
+      inhumanity to send her away. I regret your decision, but of course I
+      submit to it. You once said, you believed implicitly in the purity of my
+      motives. Do me the justice, however you may blame my conduct, to believe
+      in me still.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Having despatched these lines, the mind of Amelius was at ease again, He
+      went into the library, and listened to hear if Sally was moving. The
+      perfect silence on the other side of the door informed him that the weary
+      girl was still fast asleep. He gave directions that she was on no account
+      to be disturbed, and sat down to breakfast by himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While he was still at table, Toff appeared, with profound mystery in his
+      manner, and discreet confidence in the tones of his voice. &ldquo;Here&rsquo;s another
+      one, sir!&rdquo; the Frenchman announced, in his master&rsquo;s ear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Another one?&rdquo; Amelius repeated. &ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is not like the sweet little sleeping Miss.&rdquo; Toff explained. &ldquo;This
+      time, sir, it&rsquo;s the beauty of the devil himself, as we say in France. She
+      refuses to confide in me; and she appears to be agitated&mdash;both bad
+      signs. Shall I get rid of her before the other Miss wakes?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hasn&rsquo;t she got a name?&rdquo; Amelius asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Toff answered, in his foreign accent, &ldquo;One name only&mdash;Faybay.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you mean Phoebe?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have I not said it, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Show her in directly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Toff glanced at the door of Sally&rsquo;s room, shrugged his shoulders, and
+      obeyed his instructions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe appeared, looking pale and anxious. Her customary assurance of
+      manner had completely deserted her: she stopped in the doorway, as if she
+      was afraid to enter the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come in, and sit down,&rdquo; said Amelius. &ldquo;What&rsquo;s the matter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;m troubled in my mind, sir,&rdquo; Phoebe answered. &ldquo;I know it&rsquo;s taking a
+      liberty to come to you. But I went yesterday to ask Miss Regina&rsquo;s advice,
+      and found she had gone abroad with her uncle. I have something to say
+      about Mrs. Farnaby, sir; and there&rsquo;s no time to be lost in saying it. I
+      know of nobody but you that I can speak to, now Miss Regina is away. The
+      footman told me where you lived.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She stopped, evidently in the greatest embarrassment. Amelius tried to
+      encourage her. &ldquo;If I can be of any use to Mrs. Farnaby,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;tell me
+      at once what to do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe&rsquo;s eyes dropped before his straightforward look as he spoke to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must ask you to please excuse my mentioning names, sir,&rdquo; she resumed
+      confusedly. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s a person I&rsquo;m interested in, whom I wouldn&rsquo;t get into
+      trouble for the whole world. He&rsquo;s been misled&mdash;I&rsquo;m sure he&rsquo;s been
+      misled by another person&mdash;a wicked drunken old woman, who ought to be
+      in prison if she had her deserts. I&rsquo;m not free from blame myself&mdash;I
+      know I&rsquo;m not. I listened, sir, to what I oughtn&rsquo;t to have heard; and I
+      told it again (I&rsquo;m sure in the strictest confidence, and not meaning
+      anything wrong) to the person I&rsquo;ve mentioned. Not the old women&mdash;I
+      mean the person I&rsquo;m interested in. I hope you understand me, sir? I wish
+      to speak openly, excepting the names, on account of Mrs. Farnaby.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius thought of Phoebe&rsquo;s vindictive language the last time he had seen
+      her. He looked towards a cabinet in a corner of the room, in which he had
+      placed Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s letter. An instinctive distrust of his visitor began
+      to rise in his mind. His manner altered&mdash;he turned to his plate, and
+      went on with his breakfast. &ldquo;Can&rsquo;t you speak to me plainly?&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Is
+      Mrs. Farnaby in any trouble?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And can I do anything to help her out of it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sure you can, sir&mdash;if you only know where to find her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do know where to find her. She has written to tell me. The last time I
+      saw you, you expressed yourself very improperly about Mrs. Farnaby; you
+      spoke as if you meant some harm to her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I mean nothing but good to her now, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, then. Can&rsquo;t you go and speak to her yourself, if I give you
+      the address?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe&rsquo;s pale face flushed a little. &ldquo;I couldn&rsquo;t do that, sir,&rdquo; she
+      answered, &ldquo;after the way Mrs. Farnaby has treated me. Besides, if she knew
+      that I had listened to what passed between her and you&mdash;&rdquo; She stopped
+      again, more painfully embarrassed than ever.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius laid down his knife and fork. &ldquo;Look here!&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;this sort of
+      thing is not in my way. If you can&rsquo;t make a clean breast of it, let&rsquo;s talk
+      of something else. I&rsquo;m very much afraid,&rdquo; he went on, with his customary
+      absence of all concealment, &ldquo;you&rsquo;re not the harmless sort of girl I once
+      took you for. What do you mean by &lsquo;what passed between Mrs. Farnaby and
+      me&rsquo;?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe put her handkerchief to her eyes. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s very hard to speak to me so
+      harshly,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;when I&rsquo;m sorry for what I&rsquo;ve done, and am only
+      anxious to prevent harm coming of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <i>&ldquo;What</i> have you done?&rdquo; cried honest Amelius, weary of the woman&rsquo;s
+      inveterately indirect way of explaining herself to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The flash of his quick temper in his eyes, as he put that straightforward
+      question, roused a responsive temper in Phoebe which stung her into
+      speaking openly at last. She told Amelius what she had heard in the
+      kitchen as plainly as she had told it to Jervy&mdash;with this one
+      difference, that she spoke without insolence when she referred to Mrs.
+      Farnaby.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Listening in silence until she had done, Amelius started to his feet, and
+      opening the cabinet, took from it Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s letter. He read the
+      letter, keeping his back towards Phoebe&mdash;waited a moment thinking&mdash;and
+      suddenly turned on the woman with a look that made her shrink in her
+      chair. &ldquo;You wretch!&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;you detestable wretch!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In the terror of the moment, Phoebe attempted to leave the room. Amelius
+      stopped her instantly. &ldquo;Sit down again,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;I mean to have the
+      whole truth out of you, now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe recovered her courage. &ldquo;You have had the whole truth, sir; I could
+      tell you no more if I was on my deathbed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius refused to believe her. &ldquo;There is a vile conspiracy against Mrs.
+      Farnaby,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Do you mean to tell me you are not in it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So help me God, sir, I never even heard of it till yesterday!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The tone in which she spoke shook the conviction of Amelius; the
+      indescribable ring of truth was in it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are two people who are cruelly deluding and plundering this poor
+      lady,&rdquo; he went on. &ldquo;Who are they?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I told you, if you remember, that I couldn&rsquo;t mention names, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius looked again at the letter. After what he had heard, there was no
+      difficulty in identifying the invisible &ldquo;young man,&rdquo; alluded to by Mrs.
+      Farnaby, with the unnamed &ldquo;person&rdquo; in whom Phoebe was interested. Who was
+      he? As the question passed through his mind, Amelius remembered the
+      vagabond whom he had recognized with Phoebe, in the street. There was no
+      doubt of it now&mdash;the man who was directing the conspiracy in the dark
+      was Jervy! Amelius would unquestionably have been rash enough to reveal
+      this discovery, if Phoebe had not stopped him. His renewed reference to
+      Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s letter and his sudden silence after looking at it roused
+      the woman&rsquo;s suspicions. &ldquo;If you&rsquo;re planning to get my friend into
+      trouble,&rdquo; she burst out, &ldquo;not another word shall pass my lips!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Even Amelius profited by the warning which that threat unintentionally
+      conveyed to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Keep your own secrets,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;I only want to spare Mrs. Farnaby a
+      dreadful disappointment. But I must know what I am talking about when I go
+      to her. Can&rsquo;t you tell me how you found out this abominable swindle?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe was perfectly willing to tell him. Interpreting her long involved
+      narrative into plain English, with the names added, these were the facts
+      related:&mdash;Mrs. Sowler, bearing in mind some talk which had passed
+      between them on the occasion of a supper, had called at Phoebe&rsquo;s lodgings
+      on the previous day, and had tried to entrap her into communicating what
+      she knew of Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s secrets. The trap failing, Mrs. Sowler had
+      tried bribery next; had promised Phoebe a large sum of money, to be
+      equally divided between them, if she would only speak; had declared that
+      Jervy was perfectly capable of breaking his promise of marriage, and
+      &ldquo;leaving them both in the lurch, if he once got the money into his own
+      pocket&rdquo; and had thus informed Phoebe, that the conspiracy, which she
+      supposed to have been abandoned, was really in full progress, without her
+      knowledge. She had temporised with Mrs. Sowler, being afraid to set such a
+      person openly at defiance; and had hurried away at once, to have an
+      explanation with Jervy. He was reported to be &ldquo;not at home.&rdquo; Her fruitless
+      visit to Regina had followed&mdash;and there, so far as facts were
+      concerned, was an end of the story.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius asked her no questions, and spoke as briefly as possible when she
+      had done. &ldquo;I will go to Mrs. Farnaby this morning,&rdquo; was all he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would you please let me hear how it ends?&rdquo; Phoebe asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius pushed his pocket-book and pencil across the table to her,
+      pointing to a blank leaf on which she could write her address. While she
+      was thus employed the attentive Toff came in, and (with his eye on Phoebe)
+      whispered in his master&rsquo;s ear. He had heard Sally moving about. Would it
+      be more convenient, under the circumstances, if she had her breakfast in
+      her own room? Toff&rsquo;s astonishment was a sight to see when Amelius
+      answered, &ldquo;Certainly not. Let her breakfast here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Phoebe rose to go. Her parting words revealed the double-sided nature that
+      was in her; the good and evil in perpetual conflict which should be
+      uppermost.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Please don&rsquo;t mention me, sir, to Mrs. Farnaby,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t
+      forgive her for what she&rsquo;s done to me; I don&rsquo;t say I won&rsquo;t be even with
+      her yet. But not in <i>that</i> way! I won&rsquo;t have her death laid at my
+      door. Oh, but I know her temper&mdash;and I say it&rsquo;s as likely as not to
+      kill her or drive her mad, if she isn&rsquo;t warned about it in time. Never
+      mind her losing her money. If it&rsquo;s lost, it&rsquo;s lost, and she&rsquo;s got plenty
+      more. She may be robbed a dozen times over for all I care. But don&rsquo;t let
+      her set her heart on seeing her child, and then find it&rsquo;s all a swindle. I
+      hate her; but I can&rsquo;t and won&rsquo;t, let <i>that</i> go on. Good-morning,
+      sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius was relieved by her departure. For a minute or two, he sat
+      absently stirring his coffee, and considering how he might most safely
+      perform the terrible duty of putting Mrs. Farnaby on her guard. Toff
+      interrupted his meditations by preparing the table for Sally&rsquo;s breakfast;
+      and, almost at the same moment, Sally herself, fresh and rosy, opened her
+      door a little way, and looked in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have had a fine long sleep,&rdquo; said Amelius. &ldquo;Have you quite got over
+      your walk yesterday?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh yes,&rdquo; she answered gaily; &ldquo;I only feel my long walk now in my feet. It
+      hurts me to put my boots on. Can you lend me a pair of slippers?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A pair of my slippers? Why, Sally, you would be lost in them! What&rsquo;s the
+      matter with your feet?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They&rsquo;re both sore. And I think one of them has got a blister on it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come in, and let&rsquo;s have a look at it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She came limping in, with her feet bare. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t scold me,&rdquo; she pleaded, &ldquo;I
+      couldn&rsquo;t put my stockings on again, without washing them; and they&rsquo;re not
+      dry yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll get you new stockings and slippers,&rdquo; said Amelius. &ldquo;Which is the
+      foot with the blister?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The left foot,&rdquo; she answered, pointing to it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 5
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      &ldquo;Let me see the blister,&rdquo; said Amelius.
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Sally looked longingly at the fire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May I warm my feet first?&rdquo; she asked; &ldquo;they are so cold.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In those words she innocently deferred the discovery which, if it had been
+      made at the moment, might have altered the whole after-course of events.
+      Amelius only thought now of preventing her from catching cold. He sent
+      Toff for a pair of the warmest socks that he possessed, and asked if he
+      should put them on for her. She smiled, and shook her head, and put them
+      on for herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When they had done laughing at the absurd appearance of the little feet in
+      the large socks, they only drifted farther and farther away from the
+      subject of the blistered foot. Sally remembered the terrible matron, and
+      asked if anything had been heard of her that morning. Being told that Mrs.
+      Payson had written, and that the doors of the institution were closed to
+      her, she recovered her spirits, and began to wonder whether the offended
+      authorities would let her have her clothes. Toff offered to go and make
+      the inquiry, later in the day; suggesting the purchase of slippers and
+      stockings, in the mean time, while Sally was having her breakfast. Amelius
+      approved of the suggestion; and Toff set off on his errand, with one of
+      Sally&rsquo;s boots for a pattern.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The morning had, by that time, advanced to ten o&rsquo;clock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius stood before the fire talking, while Sally had her breakfast.
+      Having first explained the reasons which made it impossible that she
+      should live at the cottage in the capacity of his servant, he astonished
+      her by announcing that he meant to undertake the superintendence of her
+      education himself. They were to be master and pupil, while the lessons
+      were in progress; and brother and sister at other times&mdash;and they
+      were to see how they got on together, on this plan, without indulging in
+      any needless anxiety about the future. Amelius believed with perfect
+      sincerity that he had hit on the only sensible arrangement, under the
+      circumstances; and Sally cried joyously, &ldquo;Oh, how good you are to me; the
+      happy life has come at last!&rdquo; At the hour when those words passed the
+      daughter&rsquo;s lips, the discovery of the conspiracy burst upon the mother in
+      all its baseness and in all its horror.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The suspicion of her infamous employer, which had induced Mrs. Sowler to
+      attempt to intrude herself into Phoebe&rsquo;s confidence, led her to make a
+      visit of investigation at Jervy&rsquo;s lodgings later in the day. Informed, as
+      Phoebe had been informed, that he was not at home, she called again some
+      hours afterwards. By that time, the landlord had discovered that Jervy&rsquo;s
+      luggage had been secretly conveyed away, and that his tenant had left him,
+      in debt for rent of the two best rooms in the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      No longer in any doubt of what had happened, Mrs. Sowler employed the
+      remaining hours of the evening in making inquiries after the missing man.
+      Not a trace of him had been discovered up to eight o&rsquo;clock on the next
+      morning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Shortly after nine o&rsquo;clock&mdash;that is to say, towards the hour at which
+      Phoebe paid her visit to Amelius&mdash;Mrs. Sowler, resolute to know the
+      worst, made her appearance at the apartments occupied by Mrs. Farnaby.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish to speak to you,&rdquo; she began abruptly, &ldquo;about that young man we
+      both know of. Have you seen anything of him lately?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Farnaby, steadily on her guard, deferred answering the question. &ldquo;Why
+      do you want to know?&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The reply was instantly ready. &ldquo;Because I have reason to believe he has
+      bolted, with your money in his pocket.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has done nothing of the sort,&rdquo; Mrs. Farnaby rejoined.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has he got your money?&rdquo; Mrs. Sowler persisted. &ldquo;Tell me the truth&mdash;and
+      I&rsquo;ll do the same by you. He has cheated me. If you&rsquo;re cheated too, it&rsquo;s
+      your own interest to lose no time in finding him. The police may catch him
+      yet. <i>Has</i> he got your money?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman was in earnest&mdash;in terrible earnest&mdash;her eyes and her
+      voice both bore witness to it. She stood there, the living impersonation
+      of those doubts and fears which Mrs. Farnaby had confessed, in writing to
+      Amelius. Her position, at that moment, was essentially a position of
+      command. Mrs. Farnaby felt it in spite of herself. She acknowledged that
+      Jervy had got the money.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you sent it to him, or give it to him?&rdquo; Mrs. Sowler asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I gave it to him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yesterday evening.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Sowler clenched her fists, and shook them in impotent rage. &ldquo;He&rsquo;s the
+      biggest scoundrel living,&rdquo; she exclaimed furiously; &ldquo;and you&rsquo;re the
+      biggest fool! Put on your bonnet and come to the police. If you get your
+      money back again before he&rsquo;s spent it all, don&rsquo;t forget it was through
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The audacity of the woman&rsquo;s language roused Mrs. Farnaby. She pointed to
+      the door. &ldquo;You are an insolent creature,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;I have nothing more
+      to do with you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have nothing more to do with me?&rdquo; Mrs. Sowler repeated. &ldquo;You and the
+      young man have settled it all between you, I suppose.&rdquo; She laughed
+      scornfully. &ldquo;I dare say now you expect to see him again?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Farnaby was irritated into answering this. &ldquo;I expect to see him this
+      morning,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;at ten o&rsquo;clock.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the lost young lady with him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Say nothing about my lost daughter! I won&rsquo;t even hear you speak of her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Sowler sat down. &ldquo;Look at your watch,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;It must be nigh on
+      ten o&rsquo;clock by this time. You&rsquo;ll make a disturbance in the house if you
+      try to turn me out. I mean to wait here till ten o&rsquo;clock.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      On the point of answering angrily, Mrs. Farnaby restrained herself. &ldquo;You
+      are trying to force a quarrel on me,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;you shan&rsquo;t spoil the
+      happiest morning of my life. Wait here by yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She opened the door that led into her bedchamber, and shut herself in.
+      Perfectly impenetrable to any repulse that could be offered to her, Mrs.
+      Sowler looked at the closed door with a sardonic smile, and waited.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The clock in the hall struck ten. Mrs. Farnaby returned again to the
+      sitting-room, walked straight to the window, and looked out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Any sign of him?&rdquo; said Mrs. Sowler.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There were no signs of him. Mrs. Farnaby drew a chair to the window, and
+      sat down. Her hands turned icy cold. She still looked out into the street.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;m going to guess what&rsquo;s happened,&rdquo; Mrs. Sowler resumed. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m a sociable
+      creature, you know, and I must talk about something. About the money, now?
+      Has the young man had his travelling expenses of you? To go to foreign
+      parts, and bring your girl back with him, eh? I expect that&rsquo;s how it was.
+      You see, I know him so well. And what happened, if you please, yesterday
+      evening? Did he tell you he&rsquo;d brought her back, and got her at his own
+      place? And did he say he wouldn&rsquo;t let you see her till you paid him his
+      reward as well as his travelling expenses? And did you forget my warning
+      to you not to trust him? I&rsquo;m a good one at guessing when I try. I see you
+      think so yourself. Any signs of him yet?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Farnaby looked round from the window. Her manner was completely
+      changed; she was nervously civil to the wretch who was torturing her. &ldquo;I
+      beg your pardon, ma&rsquo;am, if I have offended you,&rdquo; she said faintly. &ldquo;I am a
+      little upset&mdash;I am so anxious about my poor child. Perhaps you are a
+      mother yourself? You oughtn&rsquo;t to frighten me; you ought to feel for me.&rdquo;
+       She paused, and put her hand to her head. &ldquo;He told me yesterday evening,&rdquo;
+       she went on slowly and vacantly, &ldquo;that my poor darling was at his
+      lodgings; he said she was so worn out with the long journey from abroad,
+      that she must have a night&rsquo;s rest before she could come to me. I asked him
+      to tell me where he lived, and let me go to her. He said she was asleep
+      and must not be disturbed. I promised to go in on tiptoe, and only look at
+      her; I offered him more money, double the money to tell me where she was.
+      He was very hard on me. He only said, wait till ten tomorrow morning&mdash;and
+      wished me goodnight. I ran out to follow him, and fell on the stairs, and
+      hurt myself. The people of the house were very kind to me.&rdquo; She turned her
+      head back towards the window, and looked out into the street again. &ldquo;I
+      must be patient,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;he&rsquo;s only a little late.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Sowler rose, and tapped her smartly on the shoulder. &ldquo;Lies!&rdquo; she
+      burst out. &ldquo;He knows no more where your daughter is than I do&mdash;and
+      he&rsquo;s off with your money!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman&rsquo;s hateful touch struck out a spark of the old fire in Mrs.
+      Farnaby. Her natural force of character asserted itself once more. <i>&ldquo;You</i>
+      lie!&rdquo; she rejoined. &ldquo;Leave the room!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The door was opened, while she spoke. A respectable woman-servant came in
+      with a letter. Mrs. Farnaby took it mechanically, and looked at the
+      address. Jervy&rsquo;s feigned handwriting was familiar to her. In the instant
+      when she recognized it, the life seemed to go out of her like an
+      extinguished light. She stood pale and still and silent, with the unopened
+      letter in her hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Watching her with malicious curiosity, Mrs. Sowler coolly possessed
+      herself of the letter, looked at it, and recognized the writing in her
+      turn. &ldquo;Stop!&rdquo; she cried, as the servant was on the point of going out.
+      &ldquo;There&rsquo;s no stamp on this letter. Was it brought by hand? Is the messenger
+      waiting?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The respectable servant showed her opinion of Mrs. Sowler plainly in her
+      face. She replied as briefly and as ungraciously as possible:&mdash;&ldquo;No.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Man or woman?&rdquo; was the next question.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Am I to answer this person, ma&rsquo;am?&rdquo; said the servant, looking at Mrs.
+      Farnaby.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Answer me instantly,&rdquo; Mrs. Sowler interposed&mdash;&ldquo;in Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s own
+      interests. Don&rsquo;t you see she can&rsquo;t speak to you herself?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then,&rdquo; said the servant, &ldquo;it was a man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A man with a squint?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Which way did he go?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Towards the square.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Sowler tossed the letter on the table, and hurried out of the room.
+      The servant approached Mrs. Farnaby. &ldquo;You haven&rsquo;t opened your letter yet,
+      ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Mrs. Farnaby vacantly, &ldquo;I haven&rsquo;t opened it yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;m afraid it&rsquo;s bad news, ma&rsquo;am?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. I think it&rsquo;s bad news.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is there anything I can do for you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, thank you. Yes; one thing. Open my letter for me, please.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a strange request to make. The servant wondered, and obeyed. She
+      was a kind-hearted woman; she really felt for the poor lady. But the
+      familiar household devil, whose name is Curiosity, and whose opportunities
+      are innumerable, prompted her next words when she had taken the letter out
+      of the envelope:&mdash;&ldquo;Shall I read it to you, ma&rsquo;am?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. Put it down on the table, please. I&rsquo;ll ring when I want you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The mother was alone&mdash;alone, with her death-warrant waiting for her
+      on the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The clock downstairs struck the half hour after ten. She moved, for the
+      first time since she had received the letter. Once more she went to the
+      window, and looked out. It was only for a moment. She turned away again,
+      with a sudden contempt for herself. &ldquo;What a fool I am!&rdquo; she said&mdash;and
+      took up the open letter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked at it, and put it down again. &ldquo;Why should I read it,&rdquo; she asked
+      herself, &ldquo;when I know what is in it, without reading?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Some framed woodcuts from the illustrated newspapers were hung on the
+      walls. One of them represented a scene of rescue from shipwreck. A mother
+      embracing her daughter, saved by the lifeboat, was among the foreground
+      groups. The print was entitled, &ldquo;The Mercy of Providence.&rdquo; Mrs. Farnaby
+      looked at it with a moment&rsquo;s steady attention. &ldquo;Providence has its
+      favourites,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;I am not one of them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      After thinking a little, she went into her bedroom, and took two papers
+      out of her dressing-case. They were medical prescriptions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She turned next to the chimneypiece. Two medicine-bottles were placed on
+      it. She took one of them down&mdash;a bottle of the ordinary size, known
+      among chemists as a six-ounce bottle. It contained a colourless liquid.
+      The label stated the dose to be &ldquo;two table-spoonfuls,&rdquo; and bore, as usual,
+      a number corresponding with a number placed on the prescription. She took
+      up the prescription. It was a mixture of bi-carbonate of soda and prussic
+      acid, intended for the relief of indigestion. She looked at the date, and
+      was at once reminded of one of the very rare occasions on which she had
+      required the services of a medical man. There had been a serious accident
+      at a dinner-party, given by some friends. She had eaten sparingly of a
+      certain dish, from which some of the other guests had suffered severely.
+      It was discovered that the food had been cooked in an old copper saucepan.
+      In her case, the trifling result had been a disturbance of digestion, and
+      nothing more. The doctor had prescribed accordingly. She had taken but one
+      dose: with her healthy constitution she despised physic. The remainder of
+      the mixture was still in the bottle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She considered again with herself&mdash;then went back to the
+      chimneypiece, and took down the second bottle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It contained a colourless liquid also; but it was only half the size of
+      the first bottle, and not a drop had been taken. She waited, observing the
+      difference between the two bottles with extraordinary attention. In this
+      case also, the prescription was in her possession&mdash;but it was not the
+      original. A line at the top stated that it was a copy made by the chemist,
+      at the request of a customer. It bore the date of more than three years
+      since. A morsel of paper was pinned to the prescription, containing some
+      lines in a woman&rsquo;s handwriting:&mdash;&ldquo;With your enviable health and
+      strength, my dear, I should have thought you were the last person in the
+      world to want a tonic. However, here is my prescription, if you must have
+      it. Be very careful to take the right dose, because there&rsquo;s poison in it.&rdquo;
+       The prescription contained three ingredients, strychnine, quinine, and
+      nitro-hydrochloric acid; and the dose was fifteen drops in water. Mrs.
+      Farnaby lit a match, and burnt the lines of her friend&rsquo;s writing. &ldquo;As long
+      ago as that,&rdquo; she reflected, &ldquo;I thought of killing myself. Why didn&rsquo;t I do
+      it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The paper having been destroyed, she put back the prescription for
+      indigestion in her dressing-case; hesitated for a moment; and opened the
+      bedroom window. It looked into a lonely little courtyard. She threw the
+      dangerous contents of the second and smaller bottle out into the yard&mdash;and
+      then put it back empty on the chimneypiece. After another moment of
+      hesitation, she returned to the sitting-room, with the bottle of mixture,
+      and the copied prescription for the tonic strychnine drops, in her hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She put the bottle on the table, and advanced to the fireplace to ring the
+      bell. Warm as the room was, she began to shiver. Did the eager life in her
+      feel the fatal purpose that she was meditating, and shrink from it?
+      Instead of ringing the bell, she bent over the fire, trying to warm
+      herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Other women would get relief in crying,&rdquo; she thought. &ldquo;I wish I was like
+      other women!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The whole sad truth about herself was in that melancholy aspiration. No
+      relief in tears, no merciful oblivion in a fainting-fit, for <i>her.</i>
+      The terrible strength of the vital organization in this woman knew no
+      yielding to the unutterable misery that wrung her to the soul. It roused
+      its glorious forces to resist: it held her in a stony quiet, with a grip
+      of iron.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She turned away from the fire wondering at herself. &ldquo;What baseness is
+      there in me that fears death? What have I got to live for <i>now?&rdquo;</i> The
+      open letter on the table caught her eye. &ldquo;This will do it!&rdquo; she said&mdash;and
+      snatched it up, and read it at last.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The least I can do for you is to act like a gentleman, and spare you
+      unnecessary suspense. You will not see me this morning at ten, for the
+      simple reason that I really don&rsquo;t know, and never did know, where to find
+      your daughter. I wish I was rich enough to return the money. Not being
+      able to do that, I will give you a word of advice instead. The next time
+      you confide any secrets of yours to Mr. Goldenheart, take better care that
+      no third person hears you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She read those atrocious lines, without any visible disturbance of the
+      dreadful composure that possessed her. Her mind made no effort to discover
+      the person who had listened and betrayed her. To all ordinary curiosities,
+      to all ordinary emotions, she was morally dead already.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The one thought in her was a thought that might have occurred to a man.
+      &ldquo;If I only had my hands on his throat, how I could wring the life out of
+      him! As it is&mdash;&rdquo; Instead of pursuing the reflection, she threw the
+      letter into the fire, and rang the bell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take this at once to the nearest chemist&rsquo;s,&rdquo; she said, giving the
+      strychnine prescription to the servant; &ldquo;and wait, please, and bring it
+      back with you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She opened her desk, when she was alone, and tore up the letters and
+      papers in it. This done, she took her pen, and wrote a letter. It was
+      addressed to Amelius.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the servant entered the room again, bringing with her the
+      prescription made up, the clock downstairs struck eleven.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0033" id="link2HCH0033">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 6
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      Toff returned to the cottage, with the slippers and the stockings.
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What a time you have been gone!&rdquo; said Amelius.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is not my fault, sir,&rdquo; Toff explained. &ldquo;The stockings I obtained
+      without difficulty. But the nearest shoe shop in this neighbourhood sold
+      only coarse manufactures, and all too large. I had to go to my wife, and
+      get her to take me to the right place. See!&rdquo; he exclaimed, producing a
+      pair of quilted silk slippers with blue rosettes, &ldquo;here is a design, that
+      is really worthy of pretty feet. Try them on, Miss.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Sally&rsquo;s eyes sparkled at the sight of the slippers. She rose at once, and
+      limped away to her room. Amelius, observing that she still walked in pain,
+      called her back. &ldquo;I had forgotten the blister,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Before you put
+      on the new stockings, Sally, let me see your foot.&rdquo; He turned to Toff.
+      &ldquo;You&rsquo;re always ready with everything,&rdquo; he went on; &ldquo;I wonder whether you
+      have got a needle and a bit of worsted thread?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The old Frenchman answered, with an air of respectful reproach. &ldquo;Knowing
+      me, sir, as you do,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;could you doubt for a moment that I mend my
+      own clothes and darn my own stockings?&rdquo; He withdrew to his bedroom below,
+      and returned with a leather roll. &ldquo;When you are ready, sir?&rdquo; he said,
+      opening the roll at the table, and threading the needle, while Sally
+      removed the sock from her left foot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She took a chair near the window, at the suggestion of Amelius. He knelt
+      down so as to raise her foot to his knee. &ldquo;Turn a little more towards the
+      light,&rdquo; he said. He took the foot in his hand, lifted it, looked at it&mdash;and
+      suddenly let it drop back on the floor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A cry of alarm from Sally instantly brought Toff to the window. &ldquo;Oh,
+      look!&rdquo; she cried; &ldquo;he&rsquo;s ill!&rdquo; Toff lifted Amelius to a chair. &ldquo;For God&rsquo;s
+      sake, sir,&rdquo; cried the terrified old man, &ldquo;what&rsquo;s the matter?&rdquo; Amelius had
+      turned to the strange ashy paleness which is only seen in men of his
+      florid complexion, overwhelmed by sudden emotion. He stammered when he
+      tried to speak. &ldquo;Fetch the brandy!&rdquo; said Toff, pointing to the
+      liqueur-case on the sideboard. Sally brought it at once; the strong
+      stimulant steadied Amelius.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;m sorry to have frightened you,&rdquo; he said faintly. &ldquo;Sally!&mdash;Dear,
+      dear little Sally, go in, and get your things on directly. You must come
+      out with me; I&rsquo;ll tell you why afterwards. My God! why didn&rsquo;t I find this
+      out before?&rdquo; He noticed Toff, wondering and trembling. &ldquo;Good old fellow!
+      don&rsquo;t alarm yourself&mdash;you shall know about it, too. Go! run! get the
+      first cab you can find!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Left alone for a few minutes, he had time to compose himself. He did his
+      best to take advantage of the time; he tried to prepare his mind for the
+      coming interview with Mrs. Farnaby. &ldquo;I must be careful of what I do,&rdquo; he
+      thought, conscious of the overwhelming effect of the discovery on himself;
+      &ldquo;She doesn&rsquo;t expect <i>me</i> to bring her daughter to her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Sally returned to him, ready to go out. She seemed to be afraid of him,
+      when he approached her, and took her hand. &ldquo;Have I done anything wrong?&rdquo;
+       she asked, in her childish way. &ldquo;Are you going to take me to some other
+      Home?&rdquo; The tone and look with which she put the question burst through the
+      restraints which Amelius had imposed on himself for her sake. &ldquo;My dear
+      child!&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;can you bear a great surprise? I&rsquo;m dying to tell you the
+      truth&mdash;and I hardly dare do it.&rdquo; He took her in his arms. She
+      trembled piteously. Instead of answering him, she reiterated her question,
+      &ldquo;Are you going to take me to some other Home?&rdquo; He could endure it no
+      longer. &ldquo;This is the happiest day of your life, Sally!&rdquo; he cried; &ldquo;I am
+      going to take you to your mother.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He held her close to him, and looked at her in dread of having spoken too
+      plainly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She slowly lifted her eyes to him in vacant fear and surprise; she burst
+      into no expression of delight; no overwhelming emotion made her sink
+      fainting in his arms. The sacred associations which gather round the mere
+      name of Mother were associations unknown to her; the man who held her to
+      him so tenderly, the hero who had pitied and saved her, was father and
+      mother both to her simple mind. She dropped her head on his breast; her
+      faltering voice told him that she was crying. &ldquo;Will my mother take me away
+      from you?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;Oh, do promise to bring me back with you to the
+      cottage!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For the moment, and the moment only, Amelius was disappointed in her. The
+      generous sympathies in his nature guided him unerringly to the truer view.
+      He remembered what her life had been. Inexpressible pity for her filled
+      his heart. &ldquo;Oh, my poor Sally, the time is coming when you will not think
+      as you think now! I will do nothing to distress you. You mustn&rsquo;t cry&mdash;you
+      must be happy, and loving and true to your mother.&rdquo; She dried her eyes,
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll do anything you tell me,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;as long as you bring me back
+      with you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius sighed, and said no more. He took her out with him gravely and
+      silently, when the cab was announced to be ready. &ldquo;Double your fare,&rdquo; he
+      said, when he gave the driver his instructions, &ldquo;if you get there in a
+      quarter of an hour.&rdquo; It wanted twenty-five minutes to twelve when the cab
+      left the cottage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At that moment, the contrast of feeling between the two could hardly have
+      been more strongly marked. In proportion as Amelius became more and more
+      agitated, so Sally recovered the composure and confidence that she had
+      lost. The first question she put to him related, not to her mother, but to
+      his strange behaviour when he had knelt down to look at her foot. He
+      answered, explaining to her briefly and plainly what his conduct meant.
+      The description of what had passed between her mother and Amelius
+      interested and yet perplexed her. &ldquo;How can she be so fond of me, without
+      knowing anything about me for all those years?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;Is my mother a
+      lady? Don&rsquo;t tell her where you found me; she might be ashamed of me.&rdquo; She
+      paused, and looked at Amelius anxiously. &ldquo;Are you vexed about something?
+      May I take hold of your hand?&rdquo; Amelius gave her his hand; and Sally was
+      satisfied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As the cab drew up at the house, the door was opened from within. A
+      gentleman, dressed in black, hurriedly came out; looked at Amelius; and
+      spoke to him as he stepped from the cab to the pavement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg your pardon, sir. May I ask if you are any relative of the lady who
+      lives in this house?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No relative,&rdquo; Amelius answered. &ldquo;Only a friend, who brings good news to
+      her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The stranger&rsquo;s grave face suddenly became compassionate as well as grave.
+      &ldquo;I must speak with you before you go upstairs,&rdquo; he said, lowering his
+      voice as he looked at Sally, still seated in the cab. &ldquo;You will perhaps
+      excuse the liberty I am taking, when I tell you that I am a medical man.
+      Come into the hall for a moment&mdash;and don&rsquo;t bring the young lady with
+      you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius told Sally to wait in the cab. She saw his altered looks, and
+      entreated him not to leave her. He promised to keep the house door open so
+      that she could see him while he was away from her, and hastened into the
+      hall.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sorry to say I have bad, very bad, news for you,&rdquo; the doctor began.
+      &ldquo;Time is of serious importance&mdash;I must speak plainly. You have heard
+      of mistakes made by taking the wrong bottle of medicine? The poor lady
+      upstairs is, I fear, in a dying state, from an accident of that sort. Try
+      to compose yourself. You may really be of use to me, if you are firm
+      enough to take my place while I am away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius steadied himself instantly. &ldquo;What I can do, I will do,&rdquo; he
+      answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor looked at him. &ldquo;I believe you,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Now listen. In this
+      case, a dose limited to fifteen drops has been confounded with a dose of
+      two table-spoonsful; and the drug taken by mistake is strychnine. One
+      grain of the poison has been known to prove fatal&mdash;she has taken
+      three. The convulsion fits have begun. Antidotes are out of the question&mdash;the
+      poor creature can swallow nothing. I have heard of opium as a possible
+      means of relief; and I am going to get the instrument for injecting it
+      under the skin. Not that I have much belief in the remedy; but I must try
+      something. Have you courage enough to hold her, if another of the
+      convulsions comes on in my absence?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will it relieve her, if I hold her?&rdquo; Amelius, asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I promise to do it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mind! you must do it thoroughly. There are only two women upstairs; both
+      perfectly useless in this emergency. If she shrieks to you to be held,
+      exert your strength&mdash;take her with a firm grasp. If you only touch
+      her (I can&rsquo;t explain it, but it is so), you will make matters worse.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The servant ran downstairs, while he was speaking. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t leave us, sir&mdash;I&rsquo;m
+      afraid it&rsquo;s coming on again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This gentleman will help you, while I am away,&rdquo; said the doctor. &ldquo;One
+      word more,&rdquo; he went on, addressing Amelius. &ldquo;In the intervals between the
+      fits, she is perfectly conscious; able to listen, and even to speak. If
+      she has any last wishes to communicate, make good use of the time. She may
+      die of exhaustion, at any moment. I will be back directly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He hurried to the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take my cab,&rdquo; said Amelius, &ldquo;and save time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But the young lady&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Leave her to me.&rdquo; He opened the cab door, and gave his hand to Sally. It
+      was done in a moment. The doctor drove off.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius saw the servant waiting for them in the hall. He spoke to Sally,
+      telling her, considerately and gently, what he had heard, before he took
+      her into the house. &ldquo;I had such good hopes for you,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;and it has
+      come to this dreadful end! Have you courage to go through with it, if I
+      take you to her bedside? You will be glad one day, my dear, to remember
+      that you cheered your mother&rsquo;s last moments on earth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Sally put her hand in his. &ldquo;I will go anywhere,&rdquo; she said softly, &ldquo;with
+      You.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius led her into the house. The servant, in pity for her youth,
+      ventured on a word of remonstrance. &ldquo;Oh, sir, you&rsquo;re not going to let the
+      poor young lady see that dreadful sight upstairs!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean well,&rdquo; Amelius answered; &ldquo;and I thank you. If you knew what I
+      know, you would take her upstairs, too. Show the way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Sally looked at him in silent awe as they followed the servant together.
+      He was not like the same man. His brows were knit; his lips were fast set;
+      he held the girl&rsquo;s hand in a grip that hurt her. The latent strength of
+      will in him&mdash;that reserved resolution, so finely and firmly entwined
+      in the natures of sensitively organized men&mdash;was rousing itself to
+      meet the coming trial. The doctor would have doubly believed in him, if
+      the doctor had seen him at that moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They reached the first-floor landing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Before the servant could open the drawing-room door, a shriek rang
+      frightfully through the silence of the house. The servant drew back, and
+      crouched trembling on the upper stairs. At the same moment, the door was
+      flung open, and another woman ran out, wild with terror. &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t bear
+      it!&rdquo; she cried, and rushed up the stairs, blind to the presence of
+      strangers in the panic that possessed her. Amelius entered the
+      drawing-room, with his arm round Sally, holding her up. As he placed her
+      in a chair, the dreadful cry was renewed. He only waited to rouse and
+      encourage her by a word and a look&mdash;and ran into the bedroom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For an instant, and an instant only, he stood horror-struck in the
+      presence of the poisoned woman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The fell action of the strychnine wrung every muscle in her with the
+      torture of convulsion. Her hands were fast clenched; her head was bent
+      back: her body, rigid as a bar of iron, was arched upwards from the bed,
+      resting on the two extremities of the head and the heels: the staring
+      eyes, the dusky face, the twisted lips, the clenched teeth, were frightful
+      to see. He faced it. After the one instant of hesitation, he faced it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Before she could cry out again, his hands were on her. The whole exertion
+      of his strength was barely enough to keep the frenzied throbs of the
+      convulsion, as it reached its climax, from throwing her off the bed.
+      Through the worst of it, he was still equal to the trust that had been
+      placed in him, still faithful to the work of mercy. Little by little, he
+      felt the lessening resistance of the rigid body, as the paroxysm began to
+      subside. He saw the ghastly stare die out of her eyes, and the twisted
+      lips relax from their dreadful grin. The tortured body sank, and rested;
+      the perspiration broke out on her face; her languid hands fell gently over
+      on the bed. For a while, the heavy eyelids closed&mdash;then opened again
+      feebly. She looked at him. &ldquo;Do you know me?&rdquo; he asked, bending over her.
+      And she answered in a faint whisper, &ldquo;Amelius!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He knelt down by her, and kissed her hand. &ldquo;Can you listen, if I tell you
+      something?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She breathed heavily; her bosom heaved under the suffocating oppression
+      that weighed upon it. As he took her in his arms to raise her in the bed,
+      Sally&rsquo;s voice reached him, in low imploring tones, from the next room.
+      &ldquo;Oh, let me come to you! I&rsquo;m so frightened here by myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He waited, before he told her to come in, looking for a moment at the face
+      that was resting on his breast. A gray shadow was stealing over it; a cold
+      and clammy moisture struck a chill through him as he put his hand on her
+      forehead. He turned towards the next room. The girl had ventured as far as
+      the door; he beckoned to her. She came in timidly, and stood by him, and
+      looked at her mother. Amelius signed to her to take his place. &ldquo;Put your
+      arms round her,&rdquo; he whispered. &ldquo;Oh, Sally, tell her who you are in a
+      kiss!&rdquo; The girl&rsquo;s tears fell fast as she pressed her lips on her mother&rsquo;s
+      cheek. The dying woman looked at her, with a glance of helpless inquiry&mdash;then
+      looked at Amelius. The doubt in her eyes was too dreadful to be endured.
+      Arranging the pillows so that she could keep her raised position in the
+      bed, he signed to Sally to approach him, and removed the slipper from her
+      left foot. As he took it off, he looked again at the bed&mdash;looked and
+      shuddered. In a moment more, it might be too late. With his knife he
+      ripped up the stocking, and, lifting her on the bed, put her bare foot on
+      her mother&rsquo;s lap. &ldquo;Your child! your child!&rdquo; he cried; &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve found your own
+      darling! For God&rsquo;s sake, rouse yourself! Look!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She heard him. She lifted her feebly declining head. She looked. She knew.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For one awful moment, the sinking vital forces rallied, and hurled back
+      the hold of Death. Her eyes shone radiant with the divine light of
+      maternal love; an exulting cry of rapture burst from her. Slowly, very
+      slowly, she bent forward, until her face rested on her daughter&rsquo;s foot.
+      With a faint sigh of ecstasy she kissed it. The moments passed&mdash;and
+      the bent head was raised no more. The last beat of the heart was a beat of
+      joy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0043" id="link2H_4_0043">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      BOOK THE EIGHTH. DAME NATURE DECIDES
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0034" id="link2HCH0034">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 1
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The day which had united the mother and daughter, only to part them again
+      in this world for ever, had advanced to evening.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius and Sally were together again in the cottage, sitting by the
+      library fire. The silence in the room was uninterrupted. On the open desk,
+      near Amelius, lay the letter which Mrs. Farnaby had written to him on the
+      morning of her death.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had found the letter&mdash;with the envelope unfastened&mdash;on the
+      floor of the bedchamber, and had fortunately secured it before the
+      landlady and the servant had ventured back to the room. The doctor,
+      returning a few minutes afterwards, had warned the two women that a
+      coroner&rsquo;s inquest would be held in the house, and had vainly cautioned
+      them to be careful of what they said or did in the interval. Not only the
+      subject of the death, but a discovery which had followed, revealing the
+      name of the ill-fated woman marked on her linen, and showing that she had
+      used an assumed name in taking the lodgings as Mrs. Ronald, became the
+      gossip of the neighbourhood in a few hours. Under these circumstances, the
+      catastrophe was made the subject of a paragraph in the evening journals;
+      the name being added for the information of any surviving relatives who
+      might be ignorant of the sad event. If the landlady had found the letter,
+      that circumstance also would in all probability, have formed part of the
+      statement in the newspapers, and the secret of Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s life and
+      death would have been revealed to the public view.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can trust you, and you only,&rdquo; she wrote to Amelius, &ldquo;to fulfil the last
+      wishes of a dying woman. You know me, and you know how I looked forward to
+      the prospect of a happy life in retirement with my child. The one hope
+      that I lived for has proved to be a cruel delusion. I have only this
+      morning discovered, beyond the possibility of doubt, that I have been made
+      the victim of wretches who have deliberately lied to me from first to
+      last. If I had been a happier woman, I might have had other interests to
+      sustain me under this frightful disaster. Such as I am, Death is my one
+      refuge left.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My suicide will be known to no creature but yourself. Some years since,
+      the idea of self destruction&mdash;concealed under the disguise of a
+      common mistake&mdash;presented itself to my mind. I kept the means, very
+      simple means, by me, thinking I might end in that way after all. When you
+      read this I shall be at rest for ever. You will do what I have yet to ask
+      of you, in merciful remembrance of me&mdash;I am sure of that.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have a long life before you, Amelius. My foolish fancy about you and
+      my lost girl still lingers in my mind; I still think it may be just
+      possible that you may meet with her, in the course of years.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If this does happen, I implore you, by the tenderness and pity that you
+      once felt for me, to tell no human creature that she is my daughter; and,
+      if John Farnaby is living at the time, I forbid you, with the authority of
+      a dying friend, to let her see him, or to let her know even that such a
+      person exists. Are you at a loss to account for my motives? I may make the
+      shameful confession which will enlighten you, now I know that we shall
+      never meet again. My child was born before my marriage; and the man who
+      afterwards became my husband&mdash;a man of low origin, I should tell you&mdash;was
+      the father. He had calculated on this disgraceful circumstance to force my
+      parents to make his fortune, by making me his wife. I now know, what I
+      only vaguely suspected before, that he deliberately abandoned his child,
+      as a likely cause of hindrance and scandal in the way of his prosperous
+      career in life. Do you now think I am asking too much, when I entreat you
+      never even to speak to my lost darling of this unnatural wretch? As for my
+      own fair fame, I am not thinking of myself. With Death close at my side, I
+      think of my poor mother, and of all that she suffered and sacrificed to
+      save me from the disgrace that I had deserved. For her sake, not for mine,
+      keep silence to friends and enemies alike if they ask you who my girl is&mdash;with
+      the one exception of my lawyer. Years since, I left in his care the means
+      of making a small provision for my child, on the chance that she might
+      live to claim it. You can show him this letter as your authority, in case
+      of need.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Try not to forget me, Amelius&mdash;but don&rsquo;t grieve about me. I go to my
+      death as you go to your sleep when you are tired. I leave you my grateful
+      love&mdash;you have always been good to me. There is no more to write; I
+      hear the servant returning from the chemist&rsquo;s, bringing with her only
+      release from the hard burden of life without hope. May you be happier than
+      I have been! Goodbye!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      So she parted from him for ever. But the fatal association of the unhappy
+      woman&rsquo;s sorrows with the life and fortune of Amelius was not at an end
+      yet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had neither hesitation nor misgiving in resolving to show a natural
+      respect to the wishes of the dead. Now that the miserable story of the
+      past had been unreservedly disclosed to him, he would have felt himself
+      bound in honour, even without instructions to guide him, to keep the
+      discovery of the daughter a secret, for the mother&rsquo;s sake. With that
+      conviction, he had read the distressing letter. With that conviction, he
+      now rose to provide for the safe keeping of it under lock and key.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Just as he had secured the letter in a private drawer of his desk, Toff
+      came in with a card, and announced that a gentleman wished to see him.
+      Amelius, looking at the card, was surprised to find on it the name of &ldquo;Mr.
+      Melton.&rdquo; Some lines were written on it in pencil: &ldquo;I have called to speak
+      with you on a matter of serious importance.&rdquo; Wondering what his
+      middle-aged rival could want with him, Amelius instructed Toff to admit
+      the visitor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sally started to her feet, with her customary distrust of strangers. &ldquo;May
+      I run away before he comes in?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;If you like,&rdquo; Amelius answered
+      quietly. She ran to the door of her room, at the moment when Toff appeared
+      again, announcing the visitor. Mr. Melton entered just before she
+      disappeared: he saw the flutter of her dress as the door closed behind
+      her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I fear I am disturbing you?&rdquo; he said, looking hard at the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was perfectly dressed: his hat and gloves were models of what such
+      things ought to be; he was melancholy and courteous; blandly distrustful
+      of the flying skirts which he had seen at the door. When Amelius offered
+      him a chair, he took it with a mysterious sigh; mournfully resigned to the
+      sad necessity of sitting down. &ldquo;I won&rsquo;t prolong my intrusion on you,&rdquo; he
+      resumed. &ldquo;You have no doubt seen the melancholy news in the evening
+      papers?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I haven&rsquo;t seen the evening papers,&rdquo; Amelius answered; &ldquo;what news do you
+      mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Melton leaned back in his chair, and expressed emotions of sorrow and
+      surprise, in a perfect state of training, by gently raising his smooth
+      white hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh dear, dear! this is very sad. I had hoped to find you in full
+      possession of the particulars&mdash;reconciled, as we must all be, to the
+      inscrutable ways of Providence. Permit me to break it to you as gently as
+      possible. I came here to inquire if you had heard yet from Miss Regina.
+      Understand my motive! there must be no misapprehension between us on that
+      subject. There is a very serious necessity&mdash;pray follow me carefully&mdash;I
+      say, a very serious necessity for my communicating immediately with Miss
+      Regina&rsquo;s uncle; and I know of nobody who is so likely to hear from the
+      travellers, so soon after their departure, as yourself. You are, in a
+      certain sense, a member of the family&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stop a minute,&rdquo; said Amelius.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg your pardon?&rdquo; said Mr. Melton politely, at a loss to understand the
+      interruption.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t at first know what you meant,&rdquo; Amelius explained. &ldquo;You put it,
+      if you will forgive me for saying so, in rather a roundabout way. If you
+      are alluding, all this time, to Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s death, I must honestly tell
+      you that I know of it already.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The bland self-possession of Mr. Melton&rsquo;s face began to show signs of
+      being ruffled. He had been in a manner deluded into exhibiting his
+      conventionally fluent eloquence, in the choicest modulations of his
+      sonorous voice&mdash;and it wounded his self esteem to be placed in his
+      present position. &ldquo;I understood you to say,&rdquo; he remarked stiffly, &ldquo;that
+      you had not seen the evening newspapers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are quite right,&rdquo; Amelius rejoined; &ldquo;I have not seen them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then may I inquire,&rdquo; Mr. Melton proceeded, &ldquo;how you became informed of
+      Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s death?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius replied with his customary frankness. &ldquo;I went to call on the poor
+      lady this morning,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;knowing nothing of what had happened. I met
+      the doctor at the door; and I was present at her death.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Even Mr. Melton&rsquo;s carefully-trained composure was not proof against the
+      revelation that now opened before him. He burst out with an exclamation of
+      astonishment, like an ordinary man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good heavens, what does this mean!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius took it as a question addressed to himself. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m sure I don&rsquo;t
+      know,&rdquo; he said quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Melton, misunderstanding Amelius on his side, interpreted those
+      innocent words as an outbreak of vulgar interruption. &ldquo;Pardon me,&rdquo; he said
+      coldly. &ldquo;I was about to explain myself. You will presently understand my
+      surprise. After seeing the evening paper, I went at once to make inquiries
+      at the address mentioned. In Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s absence, I felt bound to do
+      this as his old friend. I saw the landlady, and, with her assistance, the
+      doctor also. Both these persons spoke of a gentleman who had called that
+      morning, accompanied by a young lady; and who had insisted on taking the
+      young lady upstairs with him. Until you mentioned just now that you were
+      present at the death, I had no suspicion that you were &lsquo;the gentleman&rsquo;.
+      Surprise on my part was, I think, only natural. I could hardly be expected
+      to know that you were in Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s confidence about the place of her
+      retreat. And with regard to the young lady, I am still quite at a loss to
+      understand&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you understand that the people at the house told you the truth, so far
+      as I am concerned,&rdquo; Amelius interposed, &ldquo;I hope that will be enough. With
+      regard to the young lady, I must beg you to excuse me for speaking
+      plainly. I have nothing to say about her, to you or to anybody.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Melton rose with the utmost dignity and the fullest possession of his
+      vocal resources.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Permit me to assure you,&rdquo; he said, with frigidly fluent politeness, &ldquo;that
+      I have no wish to force myself into your confidence. One remark I will
+      venture to make. It is easy enough, no doubt, to keep your own secrets,
+      when you are speaking to <i>me.</i> You will find some difficulty, I fear,
+      in pursuing the same course, when you are called upon to give evidence
+      before the coroner. I presume you know that you will be summoned as a
+      witness at the inquest?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I left my name and address with the doctor for that purpose,&rdquo; Amelius
+      rejoined as composedly as ever; &ldquo;and I am ready to bear witness to what I
+      saw at poor Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s bedside. But if all the coroners in England
+      questioned me about anything else, I should say to them just what I have
+      said to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Melton smiled with well bred irony. &ldquo;We shall see,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;In the
+      mean time, I presume I may ask you, in the interests of the family, to
+      send me the address on the letter, as soon as you hear from Miss Regina. I
+      have no other means of communicating with Mr. Farnaby. In respect to the
+      melancholy event, I may add that I have undertaken to provide for the
+      funeral, and to pay any little outstanding debts, and so forth. As Mr.
+      Farnaby&rsquo;s old friend and representative&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The conclusion of the sentence was interrupted by the entrance of Toff
+      with a note, and an apology for his intrusion. &ldquo;I beg your pardon, sir;
+      the person is waiting. She says it&rsquo;s only a receipt to sign. The box is in
+      the hall.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius examined the enclosure. It was a formal document, acknowledging
+      the receipt of Sally&rsquo;s clothes, returned to her by the authorities at the
+      Home. As he took a pen to sign the receipt he looked towards the door of
+      Sally&rsquo;s room. Mr. Melton, observing the look, prepared to retire. &ldquo;I am
+      only interrupting you,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You have my address on my card. Good
+      evening.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      On his way out, he passed an elderly woman, waiting in the hall. Toff,
+      hastening before him to open the garden gate, was saluted by the gruff
+      voice of a cabman, outside. &ldquo;The lady whom he had driven to the cottage
+      had not paid him his right fare; he meant to have the money, or the lady&rsquo;s
+      name and address, and summon her.&rdquo; Quietly crossing the road, Mr. Melton
+      heard the woman&rsquo;s voice next: she had got her receipt, and had followed
+      him out. In the dispute about fares and distances that ensued, the
+      contending parties more than once mentioned the name of the Home and of
+      the locality in which it was situated. Possessing this information, Mr.
+      Melton looked in at his club; consulted a directory, under the heading of
+      &ldquo;Charitable Institutions;&rdquo; and solved the mystery of the vanishing
+      petticoats at the door. He had discovered an inmate of an asylum for lost
+      women, in the house of the man to whom Regina was engaged to be married!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next morning&rsquo;s post brought to Amelius a letter from Regina. It was
+      dated from an hotel in Paris. Her &ldquo;dear uncle&rdquo; had over estimated his
+      strength. He had refused to stay and rest for the night at Boulogne; and
+      had suffered so severely from the fatigue of the long journey that he had
+      been confined to his bed since his arrival. The English physician
+      consulted had declined to say when he would be strong enough to travel
+      again; the constitution of the patient must have received some serious
+      shock; he was brought very low. Having carefully reported the new medical
+      opinion, Regina was at liberty to indulge herself, next, in expressions of
+      affection, and to assure Amelius of her anxiety to hear from him as soon
+      as possible. But, in this case again, the &ldquo;dear uncle&rsquo;s&rdquo; convenience was
+      still the first consideration. She reverted to Mr. Farnaby, in making her
+      excuses for a hurriedly written letter. The poor invalid suffered from
+      depression of spirits; his great consolation in his illness was to hear
+      his niece read to him: he was calling for her, indeed, at that moment. The
+      inevitable postscript warmed into a mild effusion of fondness, &ldquo;How I wish
+      you could be with us. But, alas, it cannot be!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius copied the address on the letter, and sent it to Mr. Melton
+      immediately.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was then the twenty-fourth day of the month. The tidal train did not
+      leave London early that morning; and the inquest was deferred, to suit
+      other pressing engagements of the coroner, until the twenty-sixth. Mr.
+      Melton decided, after his interview with Amelius, that the emergency was
+      sufficiently serious to justify him in following his telegram to Paris. It
+      was clearly his duty, as an old friend, to mention to Mr. Farnaby what he
+      had discovered at the cottage, as well as what he had heard from the
+      landlady and the doctor; leaving it to the uncle&rsquo;s discretion to act as he
+      thought right in the interests of the niece. Whether that course of action
+      might not also serve the interests of Mr. Melton himself, in the character
+      of an unsuccessful suitor for Regina&rsquo;s hand, he did not stop to inquire.
+      Beyond his duty it was, for the present at least, not his business to
+      look.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That night, the two gentlemen held a private consultation in Paris; the
+      doctor having previously certified that his patient was incapable of
+      supporting the journey back to London, under any circumstances.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The question of the formal proceedings rendered necessary by Mrs.
+      Farnaby&rsquo;s death having been discussed and disposed of, Mr. Melton next
+      entered on the narrative which the obligations of friendship imperatively
+      demanded from him. To his astonishment and alarm, Mr. Farnaby started up
+      in the bed like a man panic-stricken. &ldquo;Did you say,&rdquo; he stammered, as soon
+      as he could speak, &ldquo;you mean to make inquiries about that&mdash;that
+      girl?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I certainly thought it desirable, bearing in mind Mr. Goldenheart&rsquo;s
+      position in your family.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do nothing of the sort! Say nothing to Regina or to any living creature.
+      Wait till I get well again&mdash;and leave me to deal with it. I am the
+      proper person to take it in hand. Don&rsquo;t you see that for yourself? And,
+      look here! there may be questions asked at the inquest. Some impudent
+      scoundrel on the jury may want to pry into what doesn&rsquo;t concern him. The
+      moment you&rsquo;re back in London, get a lawyer to represent us&mdash;the
+      sharpest fellow that can be had for money. Tell him to stop all prying
+      questions. Who the girl is, and what made that cursed young Socialist
+      Goldenheart take her upstairs with him&mdash;all that sort of thing has
+      nothing to do with the manner in which my wife met her death. You
+      understand? I look to you, Melton, to see yourself that this is done. The
+      less said at the infernal inquest, the better. In my position, it&rsquo;s an
+      exposure that my enemies will make the most of, as it is. I&rsquo;m too ill to
+      go into the thing any further. No: I don&rsquo;t want Regina. Go to her in the
+      sitting room, and tell the courier to get you something to eat and drink.
+      And, I say! For God&rsquo;s sake don&rsquo;t be late for the Boulogne train tomorrow
+      morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Left by himself, he gave full vent to his fury; he cursed Amelius with
+      oaths that are not to be written.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had burnt the letter which Mrs. Farnaby had written to him, on leaving
+      him forever; but he had not burnt out of his memory the words which that
+      letter contained. With his wife&rsquo;s language vividly present to his mind, he
+      could arrive at but one conclusion, after what Mr. Melton had told him.
+      Amelius was concerned in the discovery of his deserted daughter; Amelius
+      had taken the girl to her dying mother&rsquo;s bedside. With his idiotic
+      Socialist notions, he would be perfectly capable of owning the truth, if
+      inquiries were made. The unblemished reputation which John Farnaby had
+      built up by the self-seeking hypocrisy of a lifetime was at the mercy of a
+      visionary young fool, who believed that rich men were created for the
+      benefit of the poor, and who proposed to regenerate society by reviving
+      the obsolete morality of the Primitive Christians. Was it possible for him
+      to come to terms with such a person as this? There was not an inch of
+      common ground on which they could meet. He dropped back on his pillow in
+      despair, and lay for a while frowning and biting his nails. Suddenly he
+      sat up again in the bed, and wiped his moist forehead, and heaved a heavy
+      breath of relief. Had his illness obscured his intelligence? How was it he
+      had not seen at once the perfectly easy way out of the difficulty which
+      was presented by the facts themselves? Here is a man, engaged to marry my
+      niece, who has been discovered keeping a girl at his cottage&mdash;who
+      even had the audacity to take her upstairs with him when he made a call on
+      my wife. Charge him with it in plain words; break off the engagement
+      publicly in the face of society; and, if the profligate scoundrel tries to
+      defend himself by telling the truth, who will believe him&mdash;when the
+      girl was seen running out of his room? and when he refused, on the
+      question being put to him, to say who she was?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So, in ignorance of his wife&rsquo;s last instructions to Amelius&mdash;in equal
+      ignorance of the compassionate silence which an honourable man preserves
+      when a woman&rsquo;s reputation is at his mercy&mdash;the wretch needlessly
+      plotted and planned to save his usurped reputation; seeing all things, as
+      such men invariably do, through the foul light of his own inbred baseness
+      and cruelty. He was troubled by no retributive emotions of shame or
+      remorse, in contemplating this second sacrifice to his own interests of
+      the daughter whom he had deserted in her infancy. If he felt any
+      misgivings, they related wholly to himself. His head was throbbing, his
+      tongue was dry; a dread of increasing his illness shook him suddenly. He
+      drank some of the lemonade at his bedside, and lay down to compose himself
+      to sleep.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was not to be done; there was a burning in his eyeballs, there was a
+      wild irregular beating at his heart, which kept him awake. In some degree,
+      at least, retribution seemed to be on the way to him already.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Melton, delicately administering sympathy and consolation to Regina&mdash;whose
+      affectionate nature felt keenly the calamity of her aunt&rsquo;s death&mdash;Mr.
+      Melton, making himself modestly useful, by reading aloud certain
+      devotional poems much prized by Regina, was called out of the room by the
+      courier.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have just looked in at Mr. Farnaby, sir,&rdquo; said the man; &ldquo;and I am
+      afraid he is worse.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The physician was sent for. He thought so seriously of the change in the
+      patient, that he obliged Regina to accept the services of a professed
+      nurse. When Mr. Melton started on his return journey the next morning, he
+      left his friend in a high fever.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0035" id="link2HCH0035">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 2
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The inquiry into the circumstances under which Mrs. Farnaby had died was
+      held in the forenoon of the next day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Melton surprised Amelius by calling for him, and taking him to the
+      inquest. The carriage stopped on the way, and a gentleman joined them, who
+      was introduced as Mr. Melton&rsquo;s legal adviser. He spoke to Amelius about
+      the inquest; stating, as his excuse for asking certain discreet questions,
+      that his object was to suppress any painful disclosures. On reaching the
+      house, Mr. Melton and his lawyer said a few words to the coroner
+      downstairs, while the jury were assembling on the floor above.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The first witness examined was the landlady.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After deposing to the date at which the late Mrs. Farnaby had hired her
+      lodgings, and verifying the statements which had appeared in the
+      newspapers, she was questioned about the life and habits of the deceased.
+      She described her late lodger as a respectable lady, punctual in her
+      payments, and quiet and orderly in her way of life: she received letters,
+      but saw no friends. On several occasions, an old woman was admitted to
+      speak with her; and these visits seemed to be anything but agreeable to
+      the deceased. Asked if she knew anything of the old woman, or of what had
+      passed at the interviews described, the witness answered both questions in
+      the negative. When the woman called, she always told the servant to
+      announce her as &ldquo;the nurse.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Melton was next examined, to prove the identity of the deceased.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He declared that he was quite unable to explain why she had left her
+      husband&rsquo;s house under an assumed name. Asked if Mr. and Mrs. Farnaby had
+      lived together on affectionate terms, he acknowledged that he had heard,
+      at various times, of a want of harmony between them, but was not
+      acquainted with the cause. Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s high character and position in
+      the commercial world spoke for themselves: the restraints of a gentleman
+      guided him in his relations with his wife. The medical certificate of his
+      illness in Paris was then put in; and Mr. Melton&rsquo;s examination came to an
+      end.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The chemist who had made up the prescription was the third witness. He
+      knew the woman who brought it to his shop to be in the service of the
+      first witness examined; an old customer of his, and a highly respected
+      resident in the neighbourhood. He made up all prescriptions himself in
+      which poisons were conspicuous ingredients; and he had affixed to the
+      bottle a slip of paper, bearing the word &ldquo;Poison,&rdquo; printed in large
+      letters. The bottle was produced and identified; and the directions in the
+      prescription were shown to have been accurately copied on the label.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A general sensation of interest was excited by the appearance of the next
+      witness&mdash;the woman servant. It was anticipated that her evidence
+      would explain how the fatal mistake about the medicine had occurred. After
+      replying to the formal inquiries, she proceeded as follows:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When I answered the bell, at the time I have mentioned, I found the
+      deceased standing at the fireplace. There was a bottle of medicine on the
+      table, by her writing desk. It was a much larger bottle than that which
+      the last witness identified, and it was more than three parts full of some
+      colourless medicine. The deceased gave me a prescription to take to the
+      chemist&rsquo;s, with instructions to wait, and bring back the physic. She said,
+      &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t feel at all well this morning; I thought of trying some of this
+      medicine,&rsquo; pointing to the bottle by her desk; &lsquo;but I am not sure it is
+      the right thing for me. I think I want a tonic. The prescription I have
+      given you is a tonic.&rsquo; I went out at once to our chemist and got it. I
+      found her writing a letter when I came back, but she finished it
+      immediately, and pushed it away from her. When I put the bottle I had
+      brought from the chemist on the table, she looked at the other larger
+      bottle which she had by her; and she said, &lsquo;You will think me very
+      undecided; I have been doubting, since I sent you to the chemist, whether
+      I had not better begin with this medicine here, before I try the tonic.
+      It&rsquo;s a medicine for the stomach; and I fancy it&rsquo;s only indigestion that&rsquo;s
+      the matter with me, after all.&rsquo; I said, &lsquo;You eat but a poor breakfast,
+      ma&rsquo;am, this morning. It isn&rsquo;t for me to advise; but, as you seem to be in
+      doubt about yourself, wouldn&rsquo;t it be better to send for a doctor?&rsquo; She
+      shook her head, and said she didn&rsquo;t want to have a doctor if she could
+      possibly help it. &lsquo;I&rsquo;ll try the medicine for indigestion first,&rsquo; she says;
+      &lsquo;and if it doesn&rsquo;t relieve me, we will see what is to be done, later in
+      the day.&rsquo; While we were talking, the tonic was left in its sealed paper
+      cover, just as I had brought it from the shop. She took up the bottle
+      containing the stomach medicine, and read the directions on it: &lsquo;Two
+      tablespoonsful by measure-glass twice a day.&rsquo; I asked if she had a
+      measure-glass; and she said, Yes, and sent me to her bedroom to look for
+      it. I couldn&rsquo;t find it. While I was looking, I heard her cry out, and ran
+      back to the drawing-room to see what was the matter. &lsquo;Oh!&rsquo; she says, &lsquo;how
+      clumsy I am! I&rsquo;ve broken the bottle.&rsquo; She held up the bottle of the
+      stomach medicine and showed it to me, broken just below the neck. &lsquo;Go back
+      to the bedroom,&rsquo; she says, &lsquo;and see if you can find an empty bottle; I
+      don&rsquo;t want to waste the medicine if I can help it.&rsquo; There was only one
+      empty bottle in the bedroom, a bottle on the chimney-piece. I took it to
+      her immediately. She gave me the broken bottle; and while I poured the
+      medicine into the bottle which I had found in the bedroom, she opened the
+      paper which covered the tonic I had brought from the chemist. When I had
+      done, and the two bottles were together on the table&mdash;the bottle that
+      I had filled, and the bottle that I had brought front the chemist&mdash;I
+      noticed that they were both of the same size, and that both had a label
+      pasted on them, marked &lsquo;Poison.&rsquo; I said to her, &lsquo;You must take care,
+      ma&rsquo;am, you don&rsquo;t make any mistake, the two bottles are so exactly alike.&rsquo; 
+      &lsquo;I can easily prevent that,&rsquo; she says, and dipped her pen in the ink, and
+      copied the directions on the broken bottle, on to the label of the bottle
+      that I had just filled. &lsquo;There!&rsquo; she said. &lsquo;Now I hope your mind&rsquo;s at
+      ease?&rsquo; She spoke cheerfully, as if she was joking with me. And then she
+      said, &lsquo;But where&rsquo;s the measure-glass?&rsquo; I went back to the bedroom to look
+      for it, and couldn&rsquo;t find it again. She changed all at once, upon that&mdash;she
+      became quite angry; and walked up and down in a fume, abusing me for my
+      stupidity. It was very unlike her. On all other occasions she was a most
+      considerate lady. I made allowances for her. She had been very much upset
+      earlier in the morning, when she had received a letter, which she told me
+      herself contained bad news. Yes; another person was present at the time&mdash;the
+      same woman that my mistress told you of. The woman looked at the address
+      on the letter, and seemed to know who it was from. I told her a
+      squint-eyed man had brought it to the house&mdash;and then she left
+      directly. I don&rsquo;t know where she went, or the address at which she lives,
+      or who the messenger was who brought the letter. As I have said, I made
+      allowances for the deceased lady. I went downstairs, without answering,
+      and got a tumbler and a tablespoon to serve instead of the measure-glass.
+      When I came back with the things, she was still walking about in a temper.
+      She took no notice of me. I left the room again quietly, seeing she was
+      not in a state to be spoken to. I saw nothing more of her, until we were
+      alarmed by hearing her scream. We found the poor lady on the floor in a
+      kind of fit. I ran out and fetched the nearest doctor. This is the whole
+      truth, on my oath; and this is all I know about it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The landlady was recalled at the request of the jury, and questioned again
+      about the old woman. She could give no information. Being asked next if
+      any letters or papers belonging to, or written by, the deceased lady had
+      been found, she declared that, after the strictest search, nothing had
+      been discovered but two medical prescriptions. The writing desk was empty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor was the next witness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He described the state in which he found the patient, on being called to
+      the house. The symptoms were those of poisoning by strychnine. Examination
+      of the prescriptions and the bottles, aided by the servant&rsquo;s information,
+      convinced him that a fatal mistake had been made by the deceased; the
+      nature of which he explained to the jury as he had already explained it to
+      Amelius. Having mentioned the meeting with Amelius at the house-door, and
+      the events which had followed, he closed his evidence by stating the
+      result of the postmortem examination, proving that the death was caused by
+      the poison called strychnine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The landlady and the servant were examined again. They were instructed to
+      inform the jury exactly of the time that had elapsed, from the moment when
+      the servant had left the deceased alone in the drawing-room, to the time
+      when the screams were first heard. Having both given the same evidence, on
+      this point, they were next asked whether any person, besides the old
+      woman, had visited the deceased lady&mdash;or had on any pretence obtained
+      access to her in the interval. Both swore positively that there had not
+      even been a knock at the house-door in the interval, and that the
+      area-gate was locked, and the key in the possession of the landlady. This
+      evidence placed it beyond the possibility of doubt that the deceased had
+      herself taken the poison. The question whether she had taken it by
+      accident was the only question left to decide, when Amelius was called as
+      the next witness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The lawyer retained by Mr. Melton, to watch the case on behalf of Mr.
+      Farnaby, had hitherto not interfered. It was observed that he paid the
+      closest attention to the inquiry, at the stage which it had now reached.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius was nervous at the outset. The early training in America, which
+      had hardened him to face an audience and speak with self-possession on
+      social and political subjects had not prepared him for the very difficult
+      ordeal of a first appearance as a witness. Having answered the customary
+      inquiries, he was so painfully agitated in describing Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s
+      sufferings, that the coroner suspended the examination for a few minutes,
+      to give him time to control himself. He failed, however, to recover his
+      composure, until the narrative part of his evidence had come to an end.
+      When the critical questions, bearing on his relations with Mrs. Farnaby,
+      began, the audience noticed that he lifted his head, and looked and spoke,
+      for the first time, like a man with a settled resolution in him, sure of
+      himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The questions proceeded:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Was he in Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s confidence, on the subject of her domestic
+      differences with her husband? Did those differences lead to her
+      withdrawing herself from her husband&rsquo;s roof? Did Mrs. Farnaby inform him
+      of the place of her retreat? To these three questions the witness,
+      speaking quite readily in each case, answered Yes. Asked next, what the
+      nature of the &lsquo;domestic differences&rsquo; had been; whether they were likely to
+      affect Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s mind seriously; why she had passed under an assumed
+      name, and why she had confided the troubles of her married life to a young
+      man like himself, only introduced to her a few months since, the witness
+      simply declined to reply to the inquiries addressed to him. &ldquo;The
+      confidence Mrs. Farnaby placed in me,&rdquo; he said to the coroner, &ldquo;was a
+      confidence which I gave her my word of honour to respect. When I have said
+      that, I hope the jury will understand that I owe it to the memory of the
+      dead to say no more.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a murmur of approval among the audience, instantly checked by
+      the coroner. The foreman of the jury rose, and remarked that scruples of
+      honour were out of place at a serious inquiry of that sort. Hearing this,
+      the lawyer saw his opportunity, and got on his legs. &ldquo;I represent the
+      husband of the deceased lady,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Mr. Goldenheart has appealed to
+      the law of honour to justify him in keeping silence. I am astonished that
+      there is a man to be found in this assembly who fails to sympathize with
+      him. But as there appears to be such a person present, I ask permission,
+      sir, to put a question to the witness. It may, or may not, satisfy the
+      foreman of the jury; but it will certainly assist the object of the
+      present inquiry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The coroner, after a glance at Mr. Melton, permitted the lawyer to put his
+      question in these terms:&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did your knowledge of Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s domestic troubles give you any
+      reason to apprehend that they might urge her to commit suicide?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly not,&rdquo; Amelius answered. &ldquo;When I called on her, on the morning
+      of her death, I had no apprehension whatever of her committing suicide. I
+      went to the house as the bearer of good news; and I said so to the doctor,
+      when he first spoke to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor confirmed this. The foreman was silenced, if not convinced. One
+      of his brother-jurymen, however, feeling the force of example, interrupted
+      the proceedings, by assailing Amelius with another question:&mdash;&ldquo;We
+      have heard that you were accompanied by a young lady at the time you have
+      mentioned, and that you took her upstairs with you. We want to know what
+      business the young lady had in the house?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The lawyer interfered again. &ldquo;I object to that question,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;The
+      purpose of the inquest is to ascertain how Mrs. Farnaby met with her
+      death. What has the young lady to do with it? The doctor&rsquo;s evidence has
+      already told us that she was not at the house, until after he had been
+      called in, and the deadly action of the poison had begun. I appeal, sir,
+      to the law of evidence, and to you, as the presiding authority, to enforce
+      it. Mr. Goldenheart, who is acquainted with the circumstances of the
+      deceased lady&rsquo;s life, has declared on his oath that there was nothing in
+      those circumstances to inspire him with any apprehension of her committing
+      suicide. The evidence of the servant at the lodgings points plainly to the
+      conclusion already arrived at by the medical witness, that the death was
+      the result of a lamentable mistake, and of that alone. Is our time to be
+      wasted in irrelevant questions, and are the feelings of the surviving
+      relatives to be cruelly lacerated to no purpose, to satisfy the curiosity
+      of strangers?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A strong expression of approval from the audience followed this. The
+      lawyer whispered to Mr. Melton, &ldquo;It&rsquo;s all right!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Order being restored, the coroner ruled that the juryman&rsquo;s question was
+      not admissible, and that the servant&rsquo;s evidence, taken with the statements
+      of the doctor and the chemist, was the only evidence for the consideration
+      of the jury. Summing up to this effect, he recalled Amelius, at the
+      request of the foreman, to inquire if the witness knew anything of the old
+      woman who had been frequently alluded to in the course of the proceedings.
+      Amelius could answer this question as honestly as he had answered the
+      questions preceding it. He neither knew the woman&rsquo;s name, nor where she
+      was to be found. The coroner inquired, with a touch of irony, if the jury
+      wished the inquest to be adjourned, under existing circumstances.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For the sake of appearances, the jury consulted together. But the
+      luncheon-hour was approaching; the servant&rsquo;s evidence was undeniably clear
+      and conclusive; the coroner, in summing up, had requested them not to
+      forget that the deceased had lost her temper with the servant, and that an
+      angry woman might well make a mistake which would be unlikely in her
+      cooler moments. All these influences led the jury irrepressibly, over the
+      obstacles of obstinacy, on the way to submission. After a needless delay,
+      they returned a verdict of &ldquo;death by misadventure.&rdquo; The secret of Mrs.
+      Farnaby&rsquo;s suicide remained inviolate; the reputation of her vile husband
+      stood as high as ever; and the future life of Amelius was, from that fatal
+      moment, turned irrevocably into a new course.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0036" id="link2HCH0036">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 3
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      On the conclusion of the proceedings, Mr. Melton, having no further need
+      of Amelius or the lawyer, drove away by himself. But he was too
+      inveterately polite to omit making his excuses for leaving them in a
+      hurry; he expected, he said, to find a telegram from Paris waiting at his
+      house. Amelius only delayed his departure to ask the landlady if the day
+      of the funeral was settled. Hearing that it was arranged for the next
+      morning, he thanked her, and returned at once to the cottage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sally was waiting his arrival to complete some purchases of mourning for
+      her unhappy mother; Toff&rsquo;s wife being in attendance to take care of her.
+      She was curious to know how the inquest had ended. In answering her
+      question, Amelius was careful to warn her, if her companion made any
+      inquiries, only to say that she had lost her mother under very sad
+      circumstances. The two having left the cottage, he instructed Toff to let
+      in a stranger, who was to call by previous appointment, and to close the
+      door to every one else. In a few minutes, the expected person, a young
+      man, who gave the name of Morcross, made his appearance, and sorely
+      puzzled the old Frenchman. He was well dressed; his manner was quiet and
+      self-possessed&mdash;and yet he did not look like a gentleman. In fact, he
+      was a policeman of the higher order, in plain clothes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Being introduced to the library, he spread out on the table some sheets of
+      manuscript, in the handwriting of Amelius, with notes in red ink on the
+      margin, made by himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I understand, sir,&rdquo; he began, &ldquo;that you have reasons for not bringing
+      this case to trial in a court of law?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sorry to say,&rdquo; Amelius answered, &ldquo;that I dare not consent to the
+      exposure of a public trial, for the sake of persons living and dead. For
+      the same reason, I have written the account of the conspiracy with certain
+      reserves. I hope I have not thrown any needless difficulties in your way?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly not, sir. But I should wish to ask, what you propose to do, in
+      case I discover the people concerned in the conspiracy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius owned, very reluctantly, that he could do nothing with the old
+      woman who had been the accomplice. &ldquo;Unless,&rdquo; he added, &ldquo;I can induce her
+      to assist me in bringing the man to justice for other crimes which I
+      believe him to have committed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Meaning the man named Jervy, sir, in this statement?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. I have reason to believe that he has been obliged to leave the
+      United States, after committing some serious offence&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg your pardon for interrupting you, sir. Is it serious enough to
+      charge him with, under the treaty between the two countries?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t doubt it&rsquo;s serious enough. I have telegraphed to the persons who
+      formerly employed him, for the particulars. Mind this! I will stick at no
+      sacrifice to make that scoundrel suffer for what he has done.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In those plain words Amelius revealed, as frankly as usual, the purpose
+      that was in him. The terrible remembrances associated with Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s
+      last moments had kindled, in his just and generous nature, a burning sense
+      of the wrong inflicted on the poor heart-broken creature who had trusted
+      and loved him. The unendurable thought that the wretch who had tortured
+      her, robbed her, and driven her to her death had escaped with impunity,
+      literally haunted him night and day. Eager to provide for Sally&rsquo;s future,
+      he had followed Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s instructions, and had seen the lawyer
+      privately, during the period that had elapsed between the death and the
+      inquest. Hearing that there were formalities to be complied with, which
+      would probably cause some delay, he had at once announced his
+      determination to employ the interval in attempting the pursuit of Jervy.
+      The lawyer&mdash;after vainly pointing out the serious objections to the
+      course proposed&mdash;so far yielded to the irresistible earnestness and
+      good faith of Amelius as to recommend him to a competent man, who could be
+      trusted not to deceive him. The same day the man had received a written
+      statement of the case; and he had now arrived to report the result of his
+      first proceedings to his employer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One thing I want to know, before you tell me anything else,&rdquo; Amelius
+      resumed. &ldquo;Is my written description of Jervy plain enough to help you to
+      find him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s so plain, sir, that some of the older men in our office have
+      recognized him by it&mdash;under another name than the name you give him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does that add to the difficulty of tracing him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has been a long time away from England, sir; and it&rsquo;s by no means easy
+      to trace him, on that account. I have been to the young woman, named
+      Phoebe in your statement, to find out what she can tell me about him.
+      She&rsquo;s ready enough, in the intervals of crying, to help us to lay our
+      hands on the man who has deserted her. It&rsquo;s the old story of a fellow
+      getting at a girl&rsquo;s secrets and a girl&rsquo;s money, under pretence of marrying
+      her. At one time, she&rsquo;s furious with him, and at another she&rsquo;s ready to
+      cry her eyes out. I got some information from her; it&rsquo;s not much, but it
+      may help us. The name of the old woman, who has been the go-between in the
+      business, is Mrs. Sowler&mdash;known to the police as an inveterate
+      drunkard, and worse. I don&rsquo;t think there will be much difficulty in
+      tracing Mrs. Sowler. As to Jervy, if the young woman is to be believed,
+      and I think she is, there&rsquo;s little doubt that he has got the money from
+      the lady mentioned in my instructions here, and that he has bolted with
+      the sum about him. Wait a bit, sir, I haven&rsquo;t done with my discoveries
+      yet. I asked the young woman, of course, if she had his photograph. He&rsquo;s a
+      sharp fellow; she had it, but he got it away from her, on pretence of
+      giving her a better one, before he took himself off. Having missed this
+      chance, I asked next if she knew where he lived last. She directed me to
+      the place; and I have had a talk with the landlord. He tells me of a
+      squint-eyed man, who was a good deal about the house, doing Jervy&rsquo;s dirty
+      work for him. If I am not misled by the description, I think I know the
+      man. I have my own notion of what he&rsquo;s capable of doing, if he gets the
+      chance&mdash;and I propose to begin by finding our way to him, and using
+      him as a means of tracing Jervy. It&rsquo;s only right to tell you that it may
+      take some time to do this&mdash;for which reason I have to propose, in the
+      mean while, trying a shorter way to the end in view. Do you object, sir,
+      to the expense of sending a copy of your description of Jervy to every
+      police-station in London?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I object to nothing which may help to find him. Do you think the police
+      have got him anywhere?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You forget, sir, that the police have no orders to take him. What I&rsquo;m
+      speculating on is the chance that he has got the money about him&mdash;say
+      in small banknotes, for convenience of changing them, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, sir, the people he lives among&mdash;the squint-eyed man, for
+      instance!&mdash;don&rsquo;t stick at trifles. If any of them have found out that
+      Jervy&rsquo;s purse is worth having&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean they would rob him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And murder him too, sir, if he tried to resist.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius started to his feet. &ldquo;Send round to the police-stations without
+      losing another minute,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;And let me hear what the answer is, the
+      instant you receive it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Suppose I get the answer late at night, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t care when you get it, night or day. Dead or living, I will
+      undertake to identify him. Here&rsquo;s a duplicate key of the garden gate. Come
+      this way, and I&rsquo;ll show you where my bedroom is. If we are all in bed, tap
+      at the window&mdash;and I will be ready for you at a moment&rsquo;s notice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      On that understanding Morcross left the cottage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The day when the mortal remains of Mrs. Farnaby were laid at rest was a
+      day of heavy rain. Mr. Melton, and two or three other old friends, were
+      the attendants at the funeral. When the coffin was borne into the damp and
+      reeking burial ground, a young man and a woman were the only persons,
+      beside the sexton and his assistants, who stood by the open grave. Mr.
+      Melton, recognizing Amelius, was at a loss to understand who his companion
+      could be. It was impossible to suppose that he would profane that solemn
+      ceremony by bringing to it the lost woman at the cottage. The thick black
+      veil of the person with him hid her face from view. No visible expressions
+      of grief escaped her. When the last sublime words of the burial service
+      had been read, those two mourners were left, after the others had all
+      departed, still standing together by the grave. Mr. Melton decided on
+      mentioning the circumstance confidentially when he wrote to his friend in
+      Paris. Telegrams from Regina, in reply to his telegrams from London, had
+      informed him that Mr. Farnaby had felt the benefit of the remedies
+      employed, and was slowly on the way to recovery. It seemed likely that he
+      would, in no long time, take the right course for the protection of his
+      niece. For the enlightenment which might, or might not, come with that
+      time, Mr. Melton was resigned to wait, with the disciplined patience to
+      which he had been mainly indebted for his success in life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Always remember your mother tenderly, my child,&rdquo; said Amelius, as they
+      left the burial ground. &ldquo;She was sorely tried, poor thing, in her life
+      time, and she loved you very dearly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know anything of my father?&rdquo; Sally asked timidly. &ldquo;Is he still
+      living?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear, you will never see your father. I must be all that the kindest
+      father and mother could have been to you, now. Oh, my poor little girl!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She pressed his arm to her as she held it. &ldquo;Why should you pity me?&rdquo; she
+      said. &ldquo;Haven&rsquo;t I got You?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They passed the day together quietly at the cottage. Amelius took down
+      some of his books, and pleased Sally by giving her his first lessons. Soon
+      after ten o&rsquo;clock she withdrew, at the usual early hour, to her room. In
+      her absence, he sent for Toff, intending to warn him not to be alarmed if
+      he heard footsteps in the garden, after they had all gone to bed. The old
+      servant had barely entered the library, when he was called away by the
+      bell at the outer gate. Amelius, looking into the hall, discovered
+      Morcross, and signed to him eagerly to come in. The police-officer closed
+      the door cautiously behind him. He had arrived with news that Jervy was
+      found.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0037" id="link2HCH0037">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 4
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      &ldquo;Where has he been found?&rdquo; Amelius asked, snatching up his hat.
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There&rsquo;s no hurry, sir,&rdquo; Morcross answered quietly. &ldquo;When I had the honour
+      of seeing you yesterday, you said you meant to make Jervy suffer for what
+      he had done. Somebody else has saved you the trouble. He was found this
+      evening in the river.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Drowned?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stabbed in three places, sir; and put out of the way in the river&mdash;that&rsquo;s
+      the surgeon&rsquo;s report. Robbed of everything he possessed&mdash;that&rsquo;s the
+      police report, after searching his pockets.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius was silent. It had not entered into his calculations that crime
+      breeds crime, and that the criminal might escape him under that law. For
+      the moment, he was conscious of a sense of disappointment, revealing
+      plainly that the desire for vengeance had mingled with the higher motives
+      which animated him. He felt uneasy and ashamed, and longed as usual to
+      take refuge in action from his own unwelcome thoughts. &ldquo;Are you sure it is
+      the man?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;My description may have misled the police&mdash;I
+      should like to see him myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly, sir. While we are about it, if you feel any curiosity to trace
+      Jervy&rsquo;s ill-gotten money, there&rsquo;s a chance (from what I have heard) of
+      finding the man with the squint. The people at our place think it&rsquo;s likely
+      he may have been concerned in the robbery, if he hasn&rsquo;t committed the
+      murder.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In an hour after, under the guidance of Morcross, Amelius passed through
+      the dreary doors of a deadhouse, situated on the southern bank of the
+      Thames, and saw the body of Jervy stretched out on a stone slab. The
+      guardian who held the lantern, inured to such horrible sights, declared
+      that the corpse could not have been in the water more than two days. To
+      any one who had seen the murdered man, the face, undisfigured by injury of
+      any kind, was perfectly recognizable. Amelius knew him again, dead, as
+      certainly as he had known him again, living, when he was waiting for
+      Phoebe in the street.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you&rsquo;re satisfied, sir,&rdquo; said Morcross, &ldquo;the inspector at the
+      police-station is sending a sergeant to look after &lsquo;Wall-Eyes&rsquo;&mdash;the
+      name they give hereabouts to the man suspected of the robbery. We can take
+      the sergeant with us in the cab, if you like.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Still keeping on the southern bank of the river, they drove for a quarter
+      of an hour in a westerly direction, and stopped at a public-house. The
+      sergeant of police went in by himself to make the first inquiries.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are a day too late, sir,&rdquo; he said to Amelius, on returning to the cab.
+      &ldquo;Wall-Eyes was here last night, and Mother Sowler with him, judging by the
+      description. Both of them drunk&mdash;and the woman the worse of the two.
+      The landlord knew nothing more about it; but there&rsquo;s a man at the bar
+      tells me he heard of them this morning (still drinking) at the Dairy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Dairy?&rdquo; Amelius repeated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Morcross interposed with the necessary explanation. &ldquo;An old house, sir,
+      which once stood by itself in the fields. It was a dairy a hundred years
+      ago; and it has kept the name ever since, though it&rsquo;s nothing but a low
+      lodging house now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One of the worst places on this side of the river,&rdquo; the sergeant added,
+      &ldquo;The landlord&rsquo;s a returned convict. Sly as he is we shall have him again
+      yet, for receiving stolen goods. There&rsquo;s every sort of thief among his
+      lodgers, from a pickpocket to a housebreaker. It&rsquo;s my duty to continue the
+      inquiry, sir; but a gentleman like you will be better, I should say, out
+      of such a place as that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Still disquieted by the sight that he had seen in the deadhouse, and by
+      the associations which that sight had recalled, Amelius was ready for any
+      adventure which might relieve his mind. Even the prospect of a visit to a
+      thieves&rsquo; lodging house was more welcome to him than the prospect of going
+      home alone. &ldquo;If there&rsquo;s no serious objection to it,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I own I
+      should like to see the place.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&rsquo;ll be safe enough with us,&rdquo; the sergeant replied. &ldquo;If you don&rsquo;t mind
+      filthy people and bad language&mdash;all right, sir! Cabman, drive to the
+      Dairy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Their direction was now towards the south, through a perfect labyrinth of
+      mean and dirty streets. Twice the driver was obliged to ask his way. On
+      the second occasion the sergeant, putting his head out of the window to
+      stop the cab, cried, &ldquo;Hullo! there&rsquo;s something up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They got out in front of a long low rambling house, a complete contrast to
+      the modern buildings about it. Late as the hour was, a mob had assembled
+      in front of the door. The police were on the spot keeping the people in
+      order.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Morcross and the sergeant pushed their way through the crowd, leading
+      Amelius between them. &ldquo;Something wrong, sir, in the back kitchen,&rdquo; said
+      one of the policemen answering the sergeant while he opened the street
+      door. A few yards down the passage there was a second door, with a man on
+      the watch by it. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s a nice to-do downstairs,&rdquo; the man announced,
+      recognizing the sergeant, and unlocking the door with a key which he took
+      from his pocket. &ldquo;The landlord at the Dairy knows his lodgers, sir,&rdquo;
+       Morcross whispered to Amelius; &ldquo;the place is kept like a prison.&rdquo; As they
+      passed through the second door, a frantic voice startled them, shouting in
+      fury from below. An old man came hobbling up the kitchen stairs, his eyes
+      wild with fear, his long grey hair all tumbled over his face. &ldquo;Oh, Lord,
+      have you got the tools for breaking open the door?&rdquo; he asked, wringing his
+      dirty hands in an agony of supplication. &ldquo;She&rsquo;ll set the house on fire!
+      she&rsquo;ll kill my wife and daughter!&rdquo; The sergeant pushed him contemptuously
+      out of the way, and looked round for Amelius. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s only the landlord,
+      sir; keep near Morcross, and follow me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They descended the kitchen stairs, the frantic cries below growing louder
+      and louder at every step they took; and made their way through the thieves
+      and vagabonds crowding together in the passage. Passing on their right
+      hand a solid old oaken door fast closed, they reached an open wicket-gate
+      of iron which led into a stone-paved yard. A heavily barred window was now
+      visible in the back wall of the house, raised three or four feet from the
+      pavement of the yard. The room within was illuminated by a blaze of
+      gaslight. More policemen were here, keeping back more inquisitive lodgers.
+      Among the spectators was a man with a hideous outward squint, holding by
+      the window-bars in a state of drunken terror. The sergeant looked at him,
+      and beckoned to one of the policemen. &ldquo;Take him to the station; I shall
+      have something to say to Wall-Eyes when he&rsquo;s sober. Now then! stand back
+      all of you, and let&rsquo;s see what&rsquo;s going on in the kitchen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He took Amelius by the arm, and led him to the window. Even the sergeant
+      started when the scene inside met his view. &ldquo;By God!&rdquo; he cried, &ldquo;it&rsquo;s
+      Mother Sowler herself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It <i>was</i> Mother Sowler. The horrible woman was tramping round and
+      round in the middle of the kitchen, like a beast in a cage; raving in the
+      dreadful drink-madness called delirium tremens. In the farthest corner of
+      the room, barricaded behind the table, the landlord&rsquo;s wife and daughter
+      crouched in terror of their lives. The gas, turned full on, blazed high
+      enough to blacken the ceiling, and showed the heavy bolts shot at the top
+      and bottom of the solid door. Nothing less than a battering-ram could have
+      burst that door in from the outer side; an hour&rsquo;s work with the file would
+      have failed to break a passage through the bars over the window. &ldquo;How did
+      she get there?&rdquo; the sergeant asked. &ldquo;Run downstairs, and bolted herself
+      in, while the missus and the young &lsquo;un were cooking&rdquo;&mdash;was the
+      answering cry from the people in the yard. As they spoke, another vain
+      attempt was made to break in the door from the passage. The noise of the
+      heavy blows redoubled the frenzy of the terrible creature in the kitchen,
+      still tramping round and round under the blazing gaslight. Suddenly, she
+      made a dart at the window, and confronted the men looking in from the
+      yard. Her staring eyes were bloodshot; a purple-red flush was over her
+      face; her hair waved wildly about her, torn away in places by her own
+      hands. &ldquo;Cats!&rdquo; she screamed, glaring out of the window, &ldquo;millions of cats!
+      all their months wide open spitting at me! Fire! fire to scare away the
+      cats!&rdquo; She searched furiously in her pocket, and tore out a handful of
+      loose papers. One of them escaped, and fluttered downward to a wooden
+      press under the window. Amelius was nearest, and saw it plainly as it
+      fell, &ldquo;Good heavens!&rdquo; he exclaimed, &ldquo;it&rsquo;s a bank-note!&rdquo; &ldquo;Wall-Eyes&rsquo; 
+      money!&rdquo; shouted the thieves in the yard; &ldquo;She&rsquo;s going to burn Wall-Eyes&rsquo; 
+      money!&rdquo; The madwoman turned back to the middle of the kitchen, leapt up at
+      the gas-burner, and set fire to the bank-notes. She scattered them flaming
+      all round her on the kitchen floor. &ldquo;Away with you!&rdquo; she shouted, shaking
+      her fists at the visionary multitude of cats. &ldquo;Away with you, up the
+      chimney! Away with you, out of the window!&rdquo; She sprang back to the window,
+      with her crooked fingers twisted in her hair! &ldquo;The snakes!&rdquo; she shrieked;
+      &ldquo;the snakes are hissing again in my hair! the beetles are crawling over my
+      face!&rdquo; She tore at her hair; she scraped her face with long black nails
+      that lacerated the flesh. Amelius turned away, unable to endure the sight
+      of her. Morcross took his place, eyed her steadily for a moment, and saw
+      the way to end it. &ldquo;A quarter of gin!&rdquo; he shouted. &ldquo;Quick! before she
+      leaves the window!&rdquo; In a minute he had the pewter measure in his hand, and
+      tapped at the window. &ldquo;Gin, Mother Sowler! Break the window, and have a
+      drop of gin!&rdquo; For a moment, the drunkard mastered her own dreadful visions
+      at the sight of the liquor. She broke a pane of glass with her clenched
+      fist. &ldquo;The door!&rdquo; cried Morcross, to the panic-stricken women, barricaded
+      behind the table. &ldquo;The door!&rdquo; he reiterated, as he handed the gin in
+      through the bars. The elder woman was too terrified to understand him; her
+      bolder daughter crawled under the table, rushed across the kitchen, and
+      drew the bolts. As the madwoman turned to attack her, the room was filled
+      with men, headed by the sergeant. Three of them were barely enough to
+      control the frantic wretch, and bind her hand and foot. When Amelius
+      entered the kitchen, after she had been conveyed to the hospital, a
+      five-pound note on the press (secured by one of the police), and a few
+      frail black ashes scattered thinly on the kitchen floor, were the only
+      relics left of the ill-gotten money.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After-inquiry, patiently pursued in more than one direction, failed to
+      throw any light on the mystery of Jervy&rsquo;s death. Morcross&rsquo;s report to
+      Amelius, towards the close of the investigation, was little more than
+      ingenious guess-work.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seems pretty clear, sir, in the first place, that Mother Sowler must
+      have overtaken Wall-Eyes, after he had left the letter at Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s
+      lodgings. In the second place, we are justified (as I shall show you
+      directly) in assuming that she told him of the money in Jervy&rsquo;s
+      possession, and that the two succeeded in discovering Jervy&mdash;no doubt
+      through Wall-Eyes&rsquo; superior knowledge of his master&rsquo;s movements. The
+      evidence concerning the bank-notes proves this. We know, by the
+      examination of the people at the Dairy, that Wall-Eyes took from his
+      pocket a handful of notes, when they refused to send for liquor without
+      having the money first. We are also informed, that the breaking-out of the
+      drink-madness in Mother Sowler showed itself in her snatching the notes
+      out of his hand, and trying to strangle him&mdash;before she ran down into
+      the kitchen and bolted herself in. Lastly, Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s bankers have
+      identified the note saved from the burning, as one of forty five-pound
+      notes paid to her cheque. So much for the tracing of the money.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish I could give an equally satisfactory account of the tracing of the
+      crime. We can make nothing of Wall-Eyes. He declares that he didn&rsquo;t even
+      know Jervy was dead, till we told him; and he swears he found the money
+      dropped in the street. It is needless to say that this last assertion is a
+      lie. Opinions are divided among us as to whether he is answerable for the
+      murder as well as the robbery, or whether there was a third person
+      concerned in it. My own belief is that Jervy was drugged by the old woman
+      (with a young woman very likely used as a decoy), in some house by the
+      riverside, and then murdered by Wall-Eyes in cold blood. We have done our
+      best to clear the matter up, and we have not succeeded. The doctors give
+      us no hope of any assistance from Mother Sowler. If she gets over the
+      attack (which is doubtful), they say she will die to a certainty of liver
+      disease. In short, my own fear is that this will prove to be one more of
+      those murders which are mysteries to the police as well as the public.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The report of the case excited some interest, published in the newspapers
+      in conspicuous type. Meddlesome readers wrote letters, offering
+      complacently stupid suggestions to the police. After a while, another
+      crime attracted general attention; and the murder of Jervy disappeared
+      from the public memory, among other forgotten murders of modern times.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0038" id="link2HCH0038">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 5
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      The last dreary days of November came to their end.
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      No longer darkened by the shadows of crime and torment and death, the life
+      of Amelius glided insensibly into the peaceful byways of seclusion,
+      brightened by the companionship of Sally. The winter days followed one
+      another in a happy uniformity of occupations and amusements. There were
+      lessons to fill up the morning, and walks to occupy the afternoon&mdash;and,
+      in the evenings, sometimes reading, sometimes singing, sometimes nothing
+      but the lazy luxury of talk. In the vast world of London, with its
+      monstrous extremes of wealth and poverty, and its all-permeating malady of
+      life at fever-heat, there was one supremely innocent and supremely happy
+      creature. Sally had heard of Heaven, attainable on the hard condition of
+      first paying the debt of death. &ldquo;I have found a kinder Heaven,&rdquo; she said,
+      one day. &ldquo;It is here in the cottage; and Amelius has shown me the way to
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Their social isolation was at this time complete: they were two friendless
+      people, perfectly insensible to all that was perilous and pitiable in
+      their own position. They parted with a kiss at night, and they met again
+      with a kiss in the morning&mdash;and they were as happily free from all
+      mistrust of the future as a pair of birds. No visitors came to the house;
+      the few friends and acquaintances of Amelius, forgotten by him, forgot him
+      in return. Now and then, Toff&rsquo;s wife came to the cottage, and exhibited
+      the &ldquo;cherubim-baby.&rdquo; Now and then, Toff himself (a musician among his
+      other accomplishments) brought his fiddle upstairs; and, saying modestly,
+      &ldquo;A little music helps to pass the time,&rdquo; played to the young master and
+      mistress the cheerful tinkling tunes of the old vaudevilles of France.
+      They were pleased with these small interruptions when they came; and they
+      were not disappointed when the days passed, and the baby and the
+      vaudevilles were hushed in absence and silence. So the happy winter time
+      went by; and the howling winds brought no rheumatism with them, and even
+      the tax-gatherer himself, looking in at this earthly paradise, departed
+      without a curse when he left his little paper behind him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now and then, at long intervals, the outer world intruded itself in the
+      form of a letter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Regina wrote, always with the same placid affection; always entering into
+      the same minute narrative of the slow progress of &ldquo;dear uncle&rsquo;s&rdquo; return to
+      health. He was forbidden to exert himself in any way. His nerves were in a
+      state of lamentable irritability. &ldquo;I dare not even mention your name to
+      him, dear Amelius; it seems, I cannot think why, to make him&mdash;oh, so
+      unreasonably angry. I can only submit, and pray that he may soon be
+      himself again.&rdquo; Amelius wrote back, always in the same considerate and
+      gentle tone; always laying the blame of his dull letters on the studious
+      uniformity of his life. He preserved, with a perfectly easy conscience,
+      the most absolute silence on the subject of Sally. While he was faithful
+      to Regina, what reason had he to reproach himself with the protection that
+      he offered to a poor motherless girl? When he was married, he might
+      mention the circumstances under which he had met with Sally, and leave the
+      rest to his wife&rsquo;s sympathy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One morning, the letters with the Paris post-mark were varied by a few
+      lines from Rufus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Every morning, my bright boy, I get up and say to myself, &lsquo;Well! I reckon
+      it&rsquo;s about time to take the route for London;&rsquo; and every morning, if
+      you&rsquo;ll believe me, I put it off till next day. Whether it&rsquo;s in the good
+      feeding (expensive, I admit; but when your cook helps you to digest
+      instead of hindering you, a man of my dyspeptic nation is too grateful to
+      complain)&mdash;or whether it&rsquo;s in the air, which reminds me, I do assure
+      you, of our native atmosphere at Coolspring, Mass., is more than I can
+      tell, with a hard steel pen on a leaf of flimsy paper. You have heard the
+      saying, &lsquo;When a good American dies, he goes to Paris&rsquo;. Maybe, sometimes,
+      he&rsquo;s smart enough to discount his own death, and rationally enjoy the
+      future time in the present. This you see is a poetic light. But, mercy be
+      praised, the moral of my residence in Paris is plain:&mdash;If I can&rsquo;t go
+      to Amelius, Amelius must come to me. Note the address Grand Hotel; and
+      pack up, like a good boy, on receipt of this. Memorandum: The brown Miss
+      is here. I saw her taking the air in a carriage, and raised my hat. She
+      looked the other way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;British&mdash;eminently British! But, there, I bear no malice; I am her
+      most obedient servant, and yours affectionately, RUFUS.&mdash;Postscript:
+      I want you to see some of our girls at this hotel. The genuine American
+      material, sir, perfected by Worth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Another morning brought with it a few sad lines from Phoebe. &ldquo;After what
+      had happened, she was quite unable to face her friends; she had no heart
+      to seek employment in her own country&mdash;her present life was too
+      dreary and too hopeless to be endured. A benevolent lady had made her an
+      offer to accompany a party of emigrants to New Zealand; and she had
+      accepted the proposal. Perhaps, among the new people, she might recover
+      her self-respect and her spirits, and live to be a better woman.
+      Meanwhile, she bade Mr. Goldenheart farewell; and asked his pardon for
+      taking the liberty of wishing him happy with Miss Regina.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius wrote a few kind lines to Phoebe, and a cordial reply to Rufus,
+      making the pursuit of his studies his excuse for remaining in London.
+      After this, there was no further correspondence. The mornings succeeded
+      each other, and the postman brought no more news from the world outside.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the lessons went on; and the teacher and pupil were as inconsiderately
+      happy as ever in each other&rsquo;s society. Observing with inexhaustible
+      interest the progress of the mental development of Sally, Amelius was slow
+      to perceive the physical development which was unobtrusively keeping pace
+      with it. He was absolutely ignorant of the part which his own influence
+      was taking in the gradual and delicate process of change. Ere long, the
+      first forewarnings of the coming disturbance in their harmless relations
+      towards each other, began to show themselves. Ere long, there were signs
+      of a troubled mind in Sally, which were mysteries to Amelius, and subjects
+      of wonderment, sometimes even trials of temper, to the girl herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One day, she looked in from the door of her room, in her white
+      dressing-gown, and asked to be forgiven if she kept the lessons of the
+      morning waiting for a little while.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come in,&rdquo; said Amelius, &ldquo;and tell me why.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She hesitated. &ldquo;You won&rsquo;t think me lazy, if you see me in my
+      dressing-gown?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course not! Your dressing-gown, my dear, is as good as any other gown.
+      A young girl like you looks best in white.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She came in with her work-basket, and her indoor dress over her arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius laughed. &ldquo;Why haven&rsquo;t you put it on?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She sat down in a corner, and looked at her work-basket, instead of
+      looking at Amelius. &ldquo;It doesn&rsquo;t fit me so well as it did,&rdquo; she answered.
+      &ldquo;I am obliged to alter it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius looked at her&mdash;at the charming youthful figure that had
+      filled out, at the softly-rounded outline of the face with no angles and
+      hollows in it now. &ldquo;Is it the dressmaker&rsquo;s fault?&rdquo; he asked slyly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her eyes were still on the basket. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s my fault,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;You
+      remember what a poor little skinny creature I was, when you first saw me.
+      I&mdash;you won&rsquo;t like me the worse for it, will you?&mdash;I am getting
+      fat. I don&rsquo;t know why. They say happy people get fat. Perhaps that&rsquo;s why.
+      I&rsquo;m never hungry, and never frightened, and never miserable now&mdash;&rdquo;
+       She stopped; her dress slipped from her lap to the floor. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t look at
+      me!&rdquo; she said&mdash;and suddenly put her hands over her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius saw the tears finding their way through the pretty plump fingers,
+      which he remembered so shapeless and so thin. He crossed the room, and
+      touched her gently on the shoulder. &ldquo;My dear child! have I said anything
+      to distress you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then why are you crying?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know.&rdquo; She hesitated; looked at him; and made a desperate effort
+      to tell him what was in her mind. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m afraid you&rsquo;ll get tired of me.
+      There&rsquo;s nothing about me to make you pity me now. You seem to be&mdash;not
+      quite the same&mdash;no! it isn&rsquo;t that&mdash;I don&rsquo;t know what&rsquo;s come to
+      me&mdash;I&rsquo;m a greater fool than ever. Give me my lesson, Amelius! please
+      give me my lesson!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius produced the books, in some little surprise at Sally&rsquo;s
+      extraordinary anxiety to begin her lessons, while the unaltered dress lay
+      neglected on the carpet at her feet. A discreet abstract of the history of
+      England, published for the use of young persons, happened to be at the top
+      of the books. The system of education under Amelius recognized the laws of
+      chance: they began with the history, because it turned up first. Sally
+      read aloud; and Sally&rsquo;s master explained obscure passages, and corrected
+      occasional errors of pronunciation, as she went on. On that particular
+      morning, there was little to explain and nothing to correct. &ldquo;Am I doing
+      it well today?&rdquo; Sally inquired, on reaching the end of her task.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, indeed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shut the book, and looked at her teacher. &ldquo;I wonder how it is,&rdquo; she
+      resumed, &ldquo;that I get on so much better with my lessons here than I did at
+      the Home? And yet it&rsquo;s foolish of me to wonder. I get on better, because
+      you are teaching me, of course. But I don&rsquo;t feel satisfied with myself.
+      I&rsquo;m the same helpless creature&mdash;I feel your kindness, and can&rsquo;t make
+      any return to you&mdash;for all my learning. I should like&mdash;&rdquo; She
+      left the thought in her unexpressed, and opened her copy-book. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll do my
+      writing now,&rdquo; she said, in a quiet resigned way. &ldquo;Perhaps I may improve
+      enough, some day, to keep your accounts for you.&rdquo; She chose her pen a
+      little absently, and began to write. Amelius looked over her shoulder, and
+      laughed; she was writing his name. He pointed to the copper-plate copy on
+      the top line, presenting an undeniable moral maxim, in characters beyond
+      the reach of criticism:&mdash;Change Is A Law Of Nature. &ldquo;There, my dear,
+      you are to copy that till you&rsquo;re tired of it,&rdquo; said the easy master; &ldquo;and
+      then we&rsquo;ll try overleaf, another copy beginning with letter D.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Sally laid down her pen. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t like &lsquo;Change is a law of Nature&rsquo;,&rdquo; she
+      said, knitting her pretty eyebrows into a frown. &ldquo;I looked at those words
+      yesterday, and they made me miserable at night. I was foolish enough to
+      think that we should always go on together as we go on now, till I saw
+      that copy. I hate the copy! It came to my mind when I was awake in the
+      dark, and it seemed to tell me that <i>we</i> were going to change some
+      day. That&rsquo;s the worst of learning&mdash;one knows too much, and then
+      there&rsquo;s an end of one&rsquo;s happiness. Thoughts come to you, when you don&rsquo;t
+      want them. I thought of the young lady we saw last week in the park.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She spoke gravely and sadly. The bright contentment which had given a new
+      charm to her eyes since she had been at the cottage, died out of them as
+      Amelius looked at her. What had become of her childish manner and her
+      artless smile? He drew his chair nearer to her. &ldquo;What young lady do you
+      mean?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sally shook her head, and traced lines with her pen on the blotting paper.
+      &ldquo;Oh, you can&rsquo;t have forgotten her! A young lady, riding on a grand white
+      horse. All the people were admiring her. I wonder you cared to look at me,
+      after that beautiful creature had gone by. Ah, she knows all sorts of
+      things that I don&rsquo;t&mdash;<i>she</i> doesn&rsquo;t sound a note at a time on the
+      piano, and as often as not the wrong one; <i>she</i> can say her
+      multiplication table, and knows all the cities in the world. I dare say
+      she&rsquo;s almost as learned as you are. If you had her living here with you,
+      wouldn&rsquo;t you like it better than only having me!&rdquo; She dropped her arms on
+      the table, and laid her head on them wearily. &ldquo;The dreadful streets!&rdquo; she
+      murmured, in low tones of despair. &ldquo;Why did I think of the dreadful
+      streets, and the night I met with you&mdash;after I had seen the young
+      lady? Oh, Amelius, are you tired of me? are you ashamed of me?&rdquo; She lifted
+      her head again, before he could answer, and controlled herself by a sudden
+      effort of resolution. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know what&rsquo;s the matter with me this
+      morning,&rdquo; she said, looking at him with a pleading fear in her eyes.
+      &ldquo;Never mind my nonsense&mdash;I&rsquo;ll do the copy!&rdquo; She began to write the
+      unendurable assertion that change is a law of Nature, with trembling
+      fingers and fast heaving breath. Amelius took the pen gently out of her
+      hand. His voice faltered as he spoke to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will give up the lessons for today, Sally. You have had a bad night&rsquo;s
+      rest, my dear, and you are feeling it&mdash;that&rsquo;s all. Do you think you
+      are well enough to come out with me, and try if the air will revive you a
+      little?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She rose, and took his hand, and kissed it. &ldquo;I believe, if I was dying, I
+      should get well enough to go out with you! May I ask one little favour? Do
+      you mind if we don&rsquo;t go into the park today?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What has made you take a dislike to the park, Sally?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We might meet the beautiful young lady again,&rdquo; she answered, with her
+      head down. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t want to do that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will go wherever you like, my child. You shall decide&mdash;not I.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She gathered up her dress from the floor, and hurried away to her room&mdash;without
+      looking back at him as usual when she opened the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Left by himself, Amelius sat at the table, mechanically turning over the
+      lesson-books. Sally had perplexed and even distressed him. His capacity to
+      preserve the harmless relations between them, depended mainly on the mute
+      appeal which the girl&rsquo;s ignorant innocence unconsciously addressed to him.
+      He felt this vaguely, without absolutely realizing it. By some mysterious
+      process of association which he was unable to follow, a saying of the wise
+      Elder Brother at Tadmor revived in his memory, while he was trying to see
+      his way through the difficulties that beset him. &ldquo;You will meet with many
+      temptations, Amelius, when you leave our Community,&rdquo; the old man had said
+      at parting; &ldquo;and most of them will come to you through women. Be
+      especially on your guard, my son, if you meet with a woman who makes you
+      feel truly sorry for her. She is on the high-road to your passions,
+      through the open door of your sympathies&mdash;and all the more certainly
+      if she is not aware of it herself.&rdquo; Amelius felt the truth expressed in
+      those words as he had never felt it yet. There had been signs of a
+      changing nature in Sally for some little time past. But they had expressed
+      themselves too delicately to attract the attention of a man unprepared to
+      be on the watch. Only on that morning, they had been marked enough to
+      force themselves on his notice. Only on that morning, she had looked at
+      him, and spoken to him, as she had never looked or spoken before. He began
+      dimly to see the danger for both of them, to which he had shut his eyes
+      thus far. Where was the remedy? what ought he to do? Those questions came
+      naturally into his mind&mdash;and yet, his mind shrank from pursuing them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He got up impatiently, and busied himself in putting away the lesson-books&mdash;a
+      small duty hitherto always left to Toff.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was useless; his mind dwelt persistently on Sally.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While he moved about the room, he still saw the look in her eyes, he still
+      heard the tone of her voice, when she spoke of the young lady in the park.
+      The words of the good physician whom he had consulted about her recurred
+      to his memory now. &ldquo;The natural growth of her senses has been stunted,
+      like the natural growth of her body, by starvation, terror, exposure to
+      cold, and other influences inherent in the life that she has led.&rdquo; And
+      then the doctor had spoken of nourishing food, pure air, and careful
+      treatment&mdash;of the life, in short, which she had led at the cottage&mdash;and
+      had predicted that she would develop into &ldquo;an intelligent and healthy
+      young woman.&rdquo; Again he asked himself, &ldquo;What ought I to do?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He turned aside to the window, and looked out. An idea occurred to him.
+      How would it be, if he summoned courage enough to tell her that he was
+      engaged to be married?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      No! Setting aside his natural dread of the shock that he might inflict on
+      the poor grateful girl who had only known happiness under his care, the
+      detestable obstacle of Mr. Farnaby stood immovably in his way. Sally would
+      be sure to ask questions about his engagement, and would never rest until
+      they were answered. It had been necessarily impossible to conceal her
+      mother&rsquo;s name from her. The discovery of her father, if she heard of
+      Regina and Regina&rsquo;s uncle, would be simply a question of time. What might
+      such a man be not capable of doing, what new act of treachery might he not
+      commit, if he found himself claimed by the daughter whom he had deserted?
+      Even if the expression of Mrs. Farnaby&rsquo;s last wishes had not been sacred
+      to Amelius, this consideration alone would have kept him silent, for
+      Sally&rsquo;s sake.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He now doubted for the first time if he had calculated wisely in planning
+      to trust Sally&rsquo;s sad story, after his marriage, to the sympathies of his
+      wife. The jealousy that she might naturally feel of a young girl, who was
+      an object of interest to her husband, did not present the worst difficulty
+      to contend with. She believed in her uncle&rsquo;s integrity as she believed in
+      her religion. What would she say, what would she do, if the innocent
+      witness to Farnaby&rsquo;s infamy was presented to her; if Amelius asked the
+      protection for Sally which her own father had refused to her in her
+      infancy; and if he said, as he must say, &ldquo;Your uncle is the man&rdquo;?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And yet, what prospect could he see but the prospect of making the
+      disclosure when he looked to his own interests next, and thought of his
+      wedding day? Again the sinister figure of Farnaby confronted him. How
+      could he receive the wretch whom Regina would innocently welcome to the
+      house? There would be no longer a choice left; it would be his duty to
+      himself to tell his wife the terrible truth. And what would be the result?
+      He recalled the whole course of his courtship, and saw Farnaby always on a
+      level with himself in Regina&rsquo;s estimation. In spite of his natural
+      cheerfulness, in spite of his inbred courage, his heart failed him, when
+      he thought of the time to come.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As he turned away from the window, Sally&rsquo;s door opened: she joined him,
+      ready for the walk. Her spirits had rallied, assisted by the cheering
+      influence of dressing to go out. Her charming smile brightened her face.
+      In sheer desperation, reckless of what he did or said, Amelius held out
+      both hands to welcome her. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s right, Sally!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;Look pleased
+      and pretty, my dear; let&rsquo;s be happy while we can&mdash;and let the future
+      take care of itself!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0039" id="link2HCH0039">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 6
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The capricious influences which combine to make us happy are never so
+      certain to be absent influences as when we are foolish enough to talk
+      about them. Amelius had talked about them. When he and Sally left the
+      cottage, the road which led them away from the park was also the road
+      which led them past a church. The influences of happiness left them at the
+      church door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rows of carriages were in waiting; hundreds of idle people were assembled
+      about the church steps; the thunderous music of the organ rolled out
+      through the open doors&mdash;a grand wedding, with choral service, was in
+      course of celebration. Sally begged Amelius to take her in to see it. They
+      tried the front entrance, and found it impossible to get through the
+      crowd. A side entrance, and a fee to a verger, succeeded better. They
+      obtained space enough to stand on, with a view of the altar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The bride was a tall buxom girl, splendidly dressed: she performed her
+      part in the ceremony with the most unruffled composure. The bridegroom
+      exhibited an instructive spectacle of aged Nature, sustained by Art. His
+      hair, his complexion, his teeth, his breast, his shoulders, and his legs,
+      showed what the wig-maker, the valet, the dentist, the tailor, and the
+      hosier can do for a rich old man, who wishes to present a juvenile
+      appearance while he is buying a young wife. No less than three clergymen
+      were present, conducting the sale. The demeanour of the rich congregation
+      was worthy of the glorious bygone days of the Golden Calf. So far as could
+      be judged by appearances, one old lady, in a pew close to the place at
+      which Amelius and Sally were standing, seemed to be the only person
+      present who was not favourably impressed by the ceremony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I call it disgraceful,&rdquo; the old lady remarked to a charming young person
+      seated next to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the charming young person&mdash;being the legitimate product of the
+      present time&mdash;had no more sympathy with questions of sentiment than a
+      Hottentot. &ldquo;How can you talk so, grandmamma!&rdquo; she rejoined. &ldquo;He has twenty
+      thousand a year&mdash;and that lucky girl will be mistress of the most
+      splendid house in London.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t care,&rdquo; the old lady persisted; &ldquo;it&rsquo;s not the less a disgrace to
+      everybody concerned in it. There is many a poor friendless creature,
+      driven by hunger to the streets, who has a better claim to our sympathy
+      than that shameless girl, selling herself in the house of God! I&rsquo;ll wait
+      for you in the carriage&mdash;I won&rsquo;t see any more of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Sally touched Amelius. &ldquo;Take me out!&rdquo; she whispered faintly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He supposed that the heat in the church had been too much for her. &ldquo;Are
+      you better now?&rdquo; he asked, when they got into the open air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She held fast by his arm. &ldquo;Let&rsquo;s get farther away,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;That lady
+      is coming after us&mdash;I don&rsquo;t want her to see me again. I am one of the
+      creatures she talked about. Is the mark of the streets on me, after all
+      you have done to rub it out?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The wild misery in her words presented another development in her
+      character which was entirely new to Amelius. &ldquo;My dear child,&rdquo; he
+      remonstrated, &ldquo;you distress me when you talk in that way. God knows the
+      life you are leading now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Sally&rsquo;s mind was still full of its own acutely painful sense of what
+      the lady had said. &ldquo;I saw her,&rdquo; she burst out&mdash;&ldquo;I saw her look at me
+      while she spoke!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And she thought you better worth looking at than the bride&mdash;and
+      quite right, too!&rdquo; Amelius rejoined. &ldquo;Come, come, Sally, be like yourself.
+      You don&rsquo;t want to make me unhappy about you, I am sure?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He had taken the right way with her: she felt that simple appeal, and
+      asked his pardon with all the old charm in her manner and her voice. For
+      the moment, she was &ldquo;Simple Sally&rdquo; again. They walked on in silence. When
+      they had lost sight of the church, Amelius felt her hand beginning to
+      tremble on his arm. A mingled expression of tenderness and anxiety showed
+      itself in her blue eyes as they looked up at him. &ldquo;I am thinking of
+      something else now,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;I am thinking of You. May I ask you
+      something?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius smiled. The smile was not reflected as usual in Sally&rsquo;s face.
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s nothing particular,&rdquo; she explained in an odd hurried way; &ldquo;the
+      church put it into my head. You&mdash;&rdquo; She hesitated, and tried it under
+      another form. &ldquo;Will you be married yourself, Amelius, one of these days?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He did his best to evade the question. &ldquo;I am not rich, Sally, like the old
+      gentleman we have just seen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her eyes turned away from him; she sighed softly to herself. &ldquo;You will be
+      married some day,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Will you do one kind thing more for me,
+      Amelius, when I die? You remember my reading in the newspaper of the new
+      invention for burning the dead&mdash;and my asking you about it. You said
+      you thought it was better than burying, and you had a good mind to leave
+      directions to be burnt instead of buried, when your time came. When <i>my</i>
+      time has come, will you leave other directions about yourself, if I ask
+      you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear, you are talking in a very strange way! If you will have it that
+      I am to be married some day, what has that to do with your death?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It doesn&rsquo;t matter, Amelius. When I have nothing left to live for, I
+      suppose it&rsquo;s as likely as not I may die. Will you tell them to bury me in
+      some quiet place, away from London, where there are very few graves? And
+      when you leave your directions, don&rsquo;t say you are to be burnt. Say&mdash;when
+      you have lived a long, long life, and enjoyed all the happiness you have
+      deserved so well&mdash;say you are to be buried, and your grave is to be
+      near mine. I should like to think of the same trees shading us, and the
+      same flowers growing over us. No! don&rsquo;t tell me I&rsquo;m talking strangely
+      again&mdash;I can&rsquo;t bear it; I want you to humour me and be kind to me
+      about this. Do you mind going home? I&rsquo;m feeling a little tired&mdash;and I
+      know I&rsquo;m poor company for you today.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The talk flagged at dinner-time, though Toff did his best to keep it
+      going.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the evening, the excellent Frenchman made an effort to cheer the two
+      dull young people. He came in confidentially with his fiddle, and said he
+      had a favour to ask. &ldquo;I possess some knowledge, sir, of the delightful art
+      of dancing. Might I teach young Miss to dance? You see, if I may venture
+      to say so, the other lessons&mdash;oh, most useful, most important, the
+      other lessons! but they are just a little serious. Something to relieve
+      her mind, sir&mdash;if you will forgive me for mentioning it. I plead for
+      innocent gaiety&mdash;let us dance!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He played a few notes on the fiddle, and placed his right foot in
+      position, and waited amiably to begin. Sally thanked him, and made the
+      excuse that she was tired. She wished Amelius good night, without waiting
+      until they were alone together&mdash;and, for the first time, without
+      giving him the customary kiss.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Toff waited until she had gone, and approached his master on tiptoe, with
+      a low bow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May I take the liberty of expressing an opinion, sir. A young girl who
+      rejects the remedy of the fiddle presents a case of extreme gravity. Don&rsquo;t
+      despair, sir! It is my pride and pleasure to be never at a loss, where
+      your interests are concerned. This is, I think, a matter for the
+      ministrations of a woman. If you have confidence in my wife, I venture to
+      suggest a visit from Madame Toff.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He discreetly retired, and left his master to think about it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The time passed&mdash;and Amelius was still thinking, and still as far as
+      ever from arriving at a conclusion, when he heard a door opened behind
+      him. Sally crossed the room before he could rise from his chair: her
+      cheeks were flushed, her eyes were bright, her hair fell loose over her
+      shoulders&mdash;she dropped at his feet, and hid her face on his knees.
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;m an ungrateful wretch!&rdquo; she burst out; &ldquo;I never kissed you when I said
+      good night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With the best intentions, Amelius took the worst possible way of composing
+      her&mdash;he treated her trouble lightly. &ldquo;Perhaps you forgot it?&rdquo; he
+      said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She lifted her head, and looked at him, with the tears in her eyes. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m
+      bad enough,&rdquo; she answered; &ldquo;but not so bad as that. Oh, don&rsquo;t laugh!
+      there&rsquo;s nothing to laugh at. Have you done with liking me? Are you angry
+      with me for behaving so badly all day, and bidding you good night as if
+      you were Toff? You shan&rsquo;t be angry with me!&rdquo; She jumped up, and sat on his
+      knee, and put her arms round his neck. &ldquo;I haven&rsquo;t been to bed,&rdquo; she
+      whispered; &ldquo;I was too miserable to go to sleep. I don&rsquo;t know what&rsquo;s been
+      the matter with me today. I seem to be losing the little sense I ever had.
+      Oh, if I could only make you understand how fond I am of you! And yet I&rsquo;ve
+      had bitter thoughts, as if I was a burden to you, and I had done a wrong
+      thing in coming here&mdash;and you would have told me so, only you pitied
+      the poor wretch who had nowhere else to go.&rdquo; She tightened her hold round
+      his neck, and laid her burning cheek against his face. &ldquo;Oh, Amelius, my
+      heart is sore! Kiss me, and say, &lsquo;Good night, Sally!&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He was young&mdash;he was a man&mdash;for a moment he lost his self
+      control; he kissed her as he had never kissed her yet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then, he remembered; he recovered himself; he put her gently away from
+      him, and led her to the door of her room, and closed it on her in silence.
+      For a little while, he waited alone. The interval over, he rang for Toff.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you think your wife would take Miss Sally as an apprentice?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Toff looked astonished. &ldquo;Whatever you wish, sir, my wife will do. Her
+      knowledge of the art of dressmaking is&mdash;&rdquo; Words failed him to express
+      his wife&rsquo;s immense capacity as a dressmaker. He kissed his hand in mute
+      enthusiasm, and blew the kiss in the direction of Madame Toff&rsquo;s
+      establishment. &ldquo;However,&rdquo; he proceeded, &ldquo;I ought to tell you one thing,
+      sir; the business is small, small, very small. But we are all in the hands
+      of Providence&mdash;the business will improve, one day.&rdquo; He lifted his
+      shoulders and lifted his eyebrows, and looked perfectly satisfied with his
+      wife&rsquo;s prospects.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will go and speak to Madame Toff myself, tomorrow morning,&rdquo; Amelius
+      resumed. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s quite possible that I may be obliged to leave London for a
+      little while&mdash;and I must provide in some way for Miss Sally. Don&rsquo;t
+      say a word about it to her yet, Toff, and don&rsquo;t look miserable. If I go
+      away, I shall take you with me. Good night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Toff, with his handkerchief halfway to his eyes, recovered his native
+      cheerfulness. &ldquo;I am invariably sick at sea, sir,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;but, no
+      matter, I will attend you to the uttermost ends of the earth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      So honest Amelius planned his way of escape from the critical position in
+      which he found himself. He went to his bed, troubled by anxieties which
+      kept him waking for many weary hours. Where was he to go to, when he left
+      Sally? If he could have known what had happened, on that very day, on the
+      other side of the Channel, he might have decided (in spite of the obstacle
+      of Mr. Farnaby) on surprising Regina by a visit to Paris.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0040" id="link2HCH0040">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 7
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      On the morning when Amelius and Sally (in London) entered the church to
+      look at the wedding. Rufus (in Paris) went to the Champs Elysees to take a
+      walk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had advanced half-way up the magnificent avenue, when he saw Regina for
+      the second time, taking her daily drive, with an elderly woman in
+      attendance on her. Rufus took off his hat again, perfectly impenetrable to
+      the cold reception which he had already experienced. Greatly to his
+      surprise, Regina not only returned his salute, but stopped the carriage
+      and beckoned to him to speak to her. Looking at her more closely, he
+      perceived signs of suffering in her face which completely altered her
+      expression as he remembered it. Her magnificent eyes were dim and red; she
+      had lost her rich colour; her voice trembled as she spoke to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you a few minutes to spare?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The whole day, if you like, Miss,&rdquo; Rufus answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She turned to the woman who accompanied her. &ldquo;Wait here for me, Elizabeth;
+      I have something to say to this gentleman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With those words, she got out of the carriage. Rufus offered her his arm.
+      She put her hand in it as readily as if they had been old friends. &ldquo;Let us
+      take one of the side paths,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;they are almost deserted at this
+      time of day. I am afraid I surprise you very much. I can only trust to
+      your kindness to forgive me for passing you without notice the last time
+      we met. Perhaps it may be some excuse for me that I am in great trouble.
+      It is just possible you may be able to relieve my mind. I believe you know
+      I am engaged to be married?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus looked at her with a sudden expression of interest. &ldquo;Is this about
+      Amelius?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She answered him almost inaudibly&mdash;&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus still kept his eyes fixed on her. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t wish to say anything,
+      Miss,&rdquo; he explained; &ldquo;but, if you have any complaint to make of Amelius, I
+      should take it as a favour if you would look me straight in the face, and
+      mention it plainly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In the embarrassment which troubled Regina at that moment, he had
+      preferred the two requests of all others with which it was most impossible
+      for her to comply. She still looked obstinately on the ground; and,
+      instead of speaking of Amelius, she diverged to the subject of Mr.
+      Farnaby&rsquo;s illness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am staying in Paris with my uncle,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;He has had a long
+      illness; but he is strong enough now to speak to me of things that have
+      been on his mind for some time past. He has so surprised me; he has made
+      me so miserable about Amelius&mdash;&rdquo; She paused, and put her handkerchief
+      to her eyes. Rufus said nothing to console her&mdash;he waited doggedly
+      until she was ready to go on. &ldquo;You know Amelius well,&rdquo; she resumed; &ldquo;you
+      are fond of him; you believe in him, don&rsquo;t you? Do you think he is capable
+      of behaving basely to any person who trusts him? Is it likely, is it
+      possible, he could be false and cruel to Me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The mere question roused the indignation of Rufus. &ldquo;Whoever said that of
+      him, Miss, told you a lie! I answer for my boy as I answer for myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked at him at last, with a sudden expression of relief. &ldquo;I said so
+      too,&rdquo; she rejoined; &ldquo;I said some enemy had slandered him. My uncle won&rsquo;t
+      tell me who it is. He positively forbids me to write to Amelius; he tells
+      me I must never see Amelius again&mdash;he is going to write and break off
+      the engagement. Oh, it&rsquo;s too cruel! too cruel!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus far they had been walking on slowly. But now Rufus stopped,
+      determined to make her speak plainly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take a word of advice from me, Miss,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Never trust anybody by
+      halves. There&rsquo;s nothing I&rsquo;m not ready to do, to set this matter right; but
+      I must know what I&rsquo;m about first. What&rsquo;s said against Amelius? Out with
+      it, no matter what &lsquo;tis! I&rsquo;m old enough to be your father; and I feel for
+      you accordingly&mdash;I do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The thorough sincerity of tone and manner which accompanied those words
+      had its effect. Regina blushed and trembled&mdash;but she spoke out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My uncle says Amelius has disgraced himself, and insulted me; my uncle
+      says there is a person&mdash;a girl living with him&mdash;&rdquo; She stopped,
+      with a faint cry of alarm. Her hand, still testing on the arm of Rufus,
+      felt him start as the allusion to the girl passed her lips. &ldquo;You have
+      heard of it!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Oh, God help me, it&rsquo;s true!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;True?&rdquo; Rufus repeated, with stern contempt. &ldquo;What&rsquo;s come to you? Haven&rsquo;t
+      I told you already, it&rsquo;s a lie? I&rsquo;ll answer to it, Amelius is true to you.
+      Will that do? No? You&rsquo;re an obstinate one, Miss&mdash;that you are. Well!
+      it&rsquo;s due to the boy that I should set him right with you, if words will do
+      it. You know how he&rsquo;s been brought up at Tadmor? Bear that in mind&mdash;and
+      now you shall have the truth of it, on the word of an honest man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Without further preface, he told her how Amelius had met with Sally,
+      insisting strongly on the motives of pure humanity by which his friend had
+      been actuated. Regina listened with an obstinate expression of distrust
+      which would have discouraged most men. Rufus persisted, nevertheless; and,
+      to some extent at least, succeeded in producing the right impression. When
+      he reached the close of the narrative&mdash;when he asserted that he had
+      himself seen Amelius confide the girl unreservedly to the care of a lady
+      who was a dear and valued friend of his own; and when he declared that
+      there had been no after-meeting between them and no written correspondence&mdash;then,
+      at last, Regina owned that he had not encouraged her to trust in the
+      honour of Amelius, without reason to justify him. But, even under these
+      circumstances, there was a residue of suspicion still left in her mind.
+      She asked for the name of the lady to whose benevolent assistance Amelius
+      had been indebted. Rufus took out one of his cards, and wrote Mrs.
+      Payson&rsquo;s name and address on it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your nature, my dear, is not quite so confiding as I could have wished to
+      see it,&rdquo; he said, quietly handing her the card. &ldquo;But we can&rsquo;t change our
+      natures&mdash;can we? And you&rsquo;re not bound to believe a man like me,
+      without witnesses to back him. Write to Mrs. Payson, and make your mind
+      easy. And, while we are about it, tell me where I can telegraph to you
+      tomorrow&mdash;I&rsquo;m off to London by the night mail.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you mean, you are going to see Amelius?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is so. I&rsquo;m too fond of Amelius to let this trouble rest where &lsquo;tis
+      now. I&rsquo;ve been away from him, here in Paris, for some little time&mdash;and
+      you may tell me (and quite right, too) I can&rsquo;t answer for what may have
+      been going on in my absence. No! now we are about it, we&rsquo;ll have it out. I
+      mean to see Amelius and see Mrs. Payson, tomorrow morning. Just tell your
+      uncle to hold his hand, before he breaks off your marriage, and wait for a
+      telegram from me. Well? and this is your address, is it? I know the hotel.
+      A nice look-out on the Twillery Gardens&mdash;but a bad cellar of wine, as
+      I hear. I&rsquo;m at the Grand Hotel myself, if there&rsquo;s anything else that
+      troubles you before evening. Now I look at you again, I reckon there&rsquo;s
+      something more to be said, if you&rsquo;ll only let it find its way to your
+      tongue. No; it ain&rsquo;t thanks. We&rsquo;ll take the gratitude for granted, and get
+      to what&rsquo;s behind it. There&rsquo;s your carriage&mdash;and the good lady looks
+      tired of waiting. Well, now?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s only one thing,&rdquo; Regina acknowledged, with her eyes on the ground
+      again. &ldquo;Perhaps, when you go to London, you may see the&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The girl?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s not likely. Say I do see her&mdash;what then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Regina&rsquo;s colour began to show itself again. &ldquo;If you do see her,&rdquo; she said,
+      &ldquo;I beg and entreat you won&rsquo;t speak of <i>me</i> in her hearing. I should
+      die of the shame of it, if she thought herself asked to give him up out of
+      pity for me. Promise I am not to be brought forward; promise you won&rsquo;t
+      even mention my having spoken to you about it. On your word of honour!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus gave her his promise, without showing any hesitation, or making any
+      remark. But when she shook hands with him, on returning to the carriage,
+      he held her hand for a moment. &ldquo;Please to excuse me, Miss, if I ask one
+      question,&rdquo; he said, in tones too low to be heard by any other person. &ldquo;Are
+      you really fond of Amelius?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am surprised you should doubt it,&rdquo; she answered; &ldquo;I am more&mdash;much
+      more than fond of him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus handed her silently into the carriage, &ldquo;Fond of him, are you?&rdquo; he
+      thought, as he walked away by himself. &ldquo;I reckon it&rsquo;s a sort of fondness
+      that don&rsquo;t wear well, and won&rsquo;t stand washing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0041" id="link2HCH0041">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 8
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      Early the next morning, Rufus rang at the cottage gate.
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Mr. Frenchman, and how do <i>you</i> git along? And how&rsquo;s Amelius?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Toff, standing before the gate, answered with the utmost respect, but
+      showed no inclination to let the visitor in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Amelius has his intervals of laziness,&rdquo; Rufus proceeded; &ldquo;I bet he&rsquo;s in
+      bed!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My young master was up and dressed an hour ago, sir&mdash;he has just
+      gone out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is so, is it? Well, I&rsquo;ll wait till he comes back.&rdquo; He pushed by
+      Toff, and walked into the cottage. &ldquo;Your foreign ceremonies are clean
+      thrown away on me,&rdquo; he said, as Toff tried to stop him in the hall. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m
+      the American savage; and I&rsquo;m used up with travelling all night. Here&rsquo;s a
+      little order for you: whisky, bitters, lemon, and ice&mdash;I&rsquo;ll take a
+      cocktail in the library.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Toff made a last desperate effort to get between the visitor and the door.
+      &ldquo;I beg your pardon, sir, a thousand times; I must most respectfully
+      entreat you to wait&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Before he could explain himself, Rufus, with the most perfect good humour,
+      pulled the old man out of his way. &ldquo;What&rsquo;s troubling this venerable
+      creature&rsquo;s mind&mdash;&rdquo; he inquired of himself, &ldquo;does he think I don&rsquo;t
+      know my way in?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He opened the library door&mdash;and found himself face to face with
+      Sally. She had risen from her chair, hearing voices outside, and
+      hesitating whether to leave the room or not. They confronted each other,
+      on either side of the table, in silent dismay. For once Rufus was so
+      completely bewildered, that he took refuge in his customary form of
+      greeting before he was aware of it himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you find yourself, Miss? I take pleasure in renewing our
+      acquaintance,&mdash;Thunder! that&rsquo;s not it; I reckon I&rsquo;m off my head. Do
+      me the favour, young woman, to forget every word I&rsquo;ve said to you. If any
+      mortal creature had told me I should find you here, I should have said
+      &lsquo;twas a lie&mdash;and I should have been the liar. That makes a man feel
+      bad, I can tell you. No! don&rsquo;t slide off, if you please, into the next
+      room&mdash;<i>that</i> won&rsquo;t set things right, nohow. Sit you down again.
+      Now I&rsquo;m here, I have something to say. I&rsquo;ll speak first to Mr. Frenchman.
+      Listen to this, old sir. If I happen to want a witness standing in the
+      doorway, I&rsquo;ll ring the bell; for the present I can do without you. Bong
+      Shewer, as we say in your country.&rdquo; He proceeded to shut the door on Toff
+      and his remonstrances.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I protest, sir, against acts of violence, unworthy of a gentleman!&rdquo; cried
+      Toff, struggling to get back again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be as angry as you please in the kitchen,&rdquo; Rufus answered, persisting in
+      closing the door; &ldquo;I won&rsquo;t have a noise up here. If you know where your
+      master is, go and fetch him&mdash;and the sooner the better.&rdquo; He turned
+      back to Sally, and surveyed her for a while in terrible silence. She was
+      afraid to look at him; her eyes were on the book which she had been
+      reading when he came in. &ldquo;You look to me,&rdquo; Rufus remarked, &ldquo;as if you had
+      been settled here for a time. Never mind your book now; you can go back to
+      your reading after we&rsquo;ve had a word or two together first.&rdquo; He reached out
+      his long arm, and pulled the book to his own side of the table. Sally
+      innocently silenced him for the second time. He opened the book, and
+      discovered&mdash;the New Testament.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s my lesson, if you please, sir. I&rsquo;m to learn it where the pencil mark
+      is, before Amelius comes back.&rdquo; She offered her poor little explanation,
+      trembling with terror. In spite of himself, Rufus began to look at her
+      less sternly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So you call him &lsquo;Amelius&rsquo;, do you?&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I note that, Miss, as an
+      unfavourable sign to begin with. How long, if you please, has Amelius
+      turned schoolmarm, for your young ladyship&rsquo;s benefit? Don&rsquo;t you
+      understand? Well, you&rsquo;re not the only inhabitant of Great Britain who
+      don&rsquo;t understand the English language. I&rsquo;ll put it plainer. When I last
+      saw Amelius, you were learning your lessons at the Home. What ill wind,
+      Miss, blew you in here? Did Amelius fetch you, or did you come of your own
+      accord, without waiting to be whistled for?&rdquo; He spoke coarsely but not
+      ill-humouredly. Sally&rsquo;s pretty downcast face was pleading with him for
+      mercy, and (as he felt, with supreme contempt for himself) was not
+      altogether pleading in vain. &ldquo;If I guessed that you ran away from the
+      home,&rdquo; he resumed, &ldquo;should I guess right?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She answered with a sudden accession of confidence. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t blame Amelius,&rdquo;
+       she said; &ldquo;I did run away. I couldn&rsquo;t live without him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t know how you can live, young one, till you&rsquo;ve tried the
+      experiment. Well, and what did they do at the Home? Did they send after
+      you, to fetch you back?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They wouldn&rsquo;t take me back&mdash;they sent my clothes here after me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, those were the rules, I reckon. I begin to see my way to the end of
+      it now. Amelius gave you house-room?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked at him proudly. &ldquo;He gave me a room of my own,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His next question was the exact repetition of the question which he had
+      put to Regina in Paris. The only variety was in the answer that he
+      received.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you fond of Amelius?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I would die for him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus had hitherto spoken, standing. He now took a chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If Amelius had not been brought up at Tadmor,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I should take my
+      hat, and wish you good morning. As things are, a word more may be a word
+      in season. Your lessons here seem to have agreed with you, Miss. You&rsquo;re a
+      different sort of girl to what you were when I last saw you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She surprised him by receiving that remark in silence. The colour left her
+      face. She sighed bitterly. The sigh puzzled Rufus: he held his opinion of
+      her in suspense, until he had heard more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You said just now you would die for Amelius,&rdquo; he went on, eyeing her
+      attentively. &ldquo;I take that to be a woman&rsquo;s hysterical way of mentioning
+      that she feels interest in Amelius. Are you fond enough of him to leave
+      him, if you could only be persuaded that leaving him was for his good?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She abruptly left the table, and went to the window. When her back was
+      turned to Rufus, she spoke. &ldquo;Am I a disgrace to him?&rdquo; she asked, in tones
+      so faint that he could barely hear them. &ldquo;I have had my fears of it,
+      before now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      If he had been less fond of Amelius, his natural kindness of heart might
+      have kept him silent. Even as it was, he made no direct reply. &ldquo;You
+      remember how you were living when Amelius first met with you?&rdquo; was all he
+      said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sad blue eyes looked at him in patient sorrow; the low sweet voice
+      answered&mdash;&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo; Only a look and a word&mdash;only the influence of
+      an instant&mdash;and, in that instant, Rufus&rsquo;s last doubts of her
+      vanished!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t think I say it reproachfully, my child! I know it was not your
+      fault; I know you are to be pitied, and not blamed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She turned her face towards him&mdash;pale, quiet, and resigned. &ldquo;Pitied,
+      and not blamed,&rdquo; she repeated. &ldquo;Am I to be forgiven?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He shrank from answering her. There was silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You said just now,&rdquo; she went on, &ldquo;that I looked like a different girl,
+      since you last saw me. I <i>am</i> a different girl. I think of things
+      that I never thought of before&mdash;some change, I don&rsquo;t know what, has
+      come over me. Oh, my heart does hunger so to be good! I do so long to
+      deserve what Amelius has done for me! You have got my book there&mdash;Amelius
+      gave it to me; we read in it every day. If Christ had been on earth now,
+      is it wrong to think that Christ would have forgiven me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, my dear; it&rsquo;s right to think so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And, while I live, if I do my best to lead a good life, and if my last
+      prayer to God is to take me to heaven, shall I be heard?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will be heard, my child, I don&rsquo;t doubt it. But, you see, you have got
+      the world about you to reckon with&mdash;and the world has invented a
+      religion of its own. There&rsquo;s no use looking for it in this book of yours.
+      It&rsquo;s a religion with the pride of property at the bottom of it, and a
+      veneer of benevolent sentiment at the top. It will be very sorry for you,
+      and very charitable towards you: in short, it will do everything for you
+      except taking you back again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She had her answer to that. &ldquo;Amelius has taken me back again,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Amelius has taken you back again,&rdquo; Rufus agreed. &ldquo;But there&rsquo;s one thing
+      he&rsquo;s forgotten to do; he has forgotten to count the cost. It seems to be
+      left to me to do that. Look here, my girl! I own I doubted you when I
+      first came into this room; and I&rsquo;m sorry for it, and I beg your pardon. I
+      do believe you&rsquo;re a good girl&mdash;I couldn&rsquo;t say why if I was asked, but
+      I do believe it for all that. I wish there was no more to be said&mdash;but
+      there is more; and neither you nor I must shirk it. Public opinion won&rsquo;t
+      deal as tenderly with you as I do; public opinion will make the worst of
+      you, and the worst of Amelius. While you&rsquo;re living here with him&mdash;there&rsquo;s
+      no disguising it&mdash;you&rsquo;re innocently in the way of the boy&rsquo;s prospects
+      in life. I don&rsquo;t know whether you understand me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She had turned away from him; she was looking out of the window once more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I understand you,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;On the night when Amelius met with me,
+      he did wrong to take me away with him. He ought to have left me where I
+      was.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wait a bit! that&rsquo;s as far from my meaning as far can be. There&rsquo;s a
+      look-out for everybody; and, if you&rsquo;ll trust me, I&rsquo;ll find a look-out for
+      <i>you.&rdquo;</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She paid no heed to what he said: her next words showed that she was
+      pursuing her own train of thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am in the way of his prospects in life,&rdquo; she resumed. &ldquo;You mean that he
+      might be married some day, but for me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus admitted it cautiously. &ldquo;The thing might happen,&rdquo; was all he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And his friends might come and see him,&rdquo; she went on; her face still
+      turned away, and her voice sinking into dull subdued tones. &ldquo;Nobody comes
+      here now. You see I understand you. When shall I go away? I had better not
+      say good-bye, I suppose?&mdash;it would only distress him. I could slip
+      out of the house, couldn&rsquo;t I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus began to feel uneasy. He was prepared for tears&mdash;but not for
+      such resignation as this. After a little hesitation, he joined her at the
+      window. She never turned towards him; she still looked out straight before
+      her; her bright young face had turned pitiably rigid and pale. He spoke to
+      her very gently; advising her to think of what he had said, and to do
+      nothing in a hurry. She knew the hotel at which he stayed when he was in
+      London; and she could write to him there. If she decided to begin a new
+      life in another country, he was wholly and truly at her service. He would
+      provide a passage for her in the same ship that took him back to America.
+      At his age, and known as he was in his own neighbourhood, there would be
+      no scandal to fear. He could get her reputably and profitably employed, in
+      work which a young girl might undertake. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll be as good as a father to
+      you, my poor child,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;don&rsquo;t think you&rsquo;re going to be friendless,
+      if you leave Amelius. I&rsquo;ll see to that! You shall have honest people about
+      you&mdash;and innocent pleasure in your new life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She thanked him, still with the same dull tearless resignation. &ldquo;What will
+      the honest people say,&rdquo; she asked, &ldquo;when they know who I am?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They have no business to know who you are&mdash;and they shan&rsquo;t know it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! it comes back to the same thing,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;You must deceive the
+      honest people, or you can do nothing for me. Amelius had better have left
+      me where I was! I disgraced nobody, I was a burden to nobody, <i>there.</i>
+      Cold and hunger and ill-treatment can sometimes be merciful friends, in
+      their way. If I had been left to them, they would have laid me at rest by
+      this time.&rdquo; She turned to Rufus, before he could speak to her. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m not
+      ungrateful, sir; I&rsquo;ll think of it, as you say; and I&rsquo;ll do all that a poor
+      foolish creature can do, to be worthy of the interest you take in me.&rdquo; She
+      lifted her hand to her head, with a momentary expression of pain. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve
+      got a dull kind of aching here,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;it reminds me of my old life,
+      when I was sometimes beaten on the head. May I go and lie down a little,
+      by myself?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus took her hand, and pressed it in silence. She looked back at him as
+      she opened the door of her room. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t distress Amelius,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;I
+      can bear anything but that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Left alone in the library, Rufus walked restlessly to and fro, driven by a
+      troubled mind. &ldquo;I was bound to do it,&rdquo; he thought; &ldquo;and I ought to be
+      satisfied with myself. I&rsquo;m not satisfied. The world is hard on women&mdash;and
+      the rights of property is a darned bad reason for it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The door from the hall was suddenly thrown open. Amelius entered the room.
+      He looked flushed and angry&mdash;he refused to take the hand that Rufus
+      offered to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What&rsquo;s this I hear from Toff? It seems that you forced your way in when
+      Sally was here. There are limits to the liberties that a man may take in
+      his friend&rsquo;s house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s true,&rdquo; said Rufus quietly. &ldquo;But when a man hasn&rsquo;t taken liberties,
+      there don&rsquo;t seem much to be said. Sally was at the Home, when I last saw
+      you&mdash;and nobody told me I should find her in this room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You might have left the room, when you found her here. You have been
+      talking to her. If you have said anything about Regina&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have said nothing about Miss Regina. You have a hot temper of your own,
+      Amelius. Wait a bit, and let it cool.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never mind my temper. I want to know what you have been saying to Sally.
+      Stop! I&rsquo;ll ask Sally herself.&rdquo; He crossed the room to the inner door, and
+      knocked. &ldquo;Come in here, my dear; I want to speak to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The answer reached him faintly through the door. &ldquo;I have got a bad
+      headache, Amelius. Please let me rest a little.&rdquo; He turned back to Rufus,
+      and lowered his voice. But his eyes flashed; he was more angry than ever.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You had better go,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I can guess how you have been talking to
+      her&mdash;I know what her headache means. Any man who distresses that dear
+      little affectionate creature is a man whom I hold as my enemy. I spit upon
+      all the worldly considerations which pass muster with people like you! No
+      sweeter girl than poor Sally ever breathed the breath of life. Her
+      happiness is more precious to me than words can say. She is sacred to me!
+      And I have just proved it&mdash;I have just come from a good woman, who
+      will teach her an honest way of earning her bread. Not a breath of scandal
+      shall blow on her. If you, or any people like you, think I will consent to
+      cast her adrift on the world, or consign her to a prison under the name of
+      a Home, you little know my nature and my principles. Here&rdquo;&mdash;he
+      snatched up the New Testament from the table, and shook it at Rufus&mdash;&ldquo;here
+      are my principles, and I&rsquo;m not ashamed of them!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus took up his hat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There&rsquo;s one thing you&rsquo;ll be ashamed of, my son, when you&rsquo;re cool enough
+      to think about it,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;you&rsquo;ll be ashamed of the words you have
+      spoken to a friend who loves you. I&rsquo;m not a bit angry myself. You remind
+      me of that time on board the steamer, when the quarter-master was going to
+      shoot the bird. You made it up with him&mdash;and you&rsquo;ll come to my hotel
+      and make it up with me. And then we&rsquo;ll shake hands, and talk about Sally.
+      If it&rsquo;s not taking another liberty, I&rsquo;ll trouble you for a light.&rdquo; He
+      helped himself to a match from the box on the chimney-piece, lit his
+      cigar, and left the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had not been gone half an hour, before the better nature of Amelius
+      urged him to follow Rufus and make his apologies. But he was too anxious
+      about Sally to leave the cottage, until he had seen her first. The tone in
+      which she had answered him, when he knocked at her door, suggested, to his
+      sensitive apprehension, that there was something more serious the matter
+      with her than a mere headache. For another hour, he waited patiently, on
+      the chance that he might hear her moving in her room. Nothing happened. No
+      sound reached his ears, except the occasional rolling of carriage-wheels
+      on the road outside.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His patience began to fail him, as the second hour moved on. He went to
+      the door, and listened, and still heard nothing. A sudden dread struck him
+      that she might have fainted. He opened the door a few inches, and spoke to
+      her. There was no answer. He looked in. The room was empty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He ran into the hall, and called to Toff. Was she, by any chance,
+      downstairs? No. Or out in the garden? No. Master and man looked at each
+      other in silence. Sally was gone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0042" id="link2HCH0042">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 9
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      Toff was the first who recovered himself.
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Courage, sir!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;With a little thinking, we shall see the way to
+      find her. That rude American man, who talked with her this morning, may be
+      the person who has brought this misfortune on us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius waited to hear no more. There was the chance, at least, that
+      something might have been said which had induced her to take refuge with
+      Rufus. He ran back to the library to get his hat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Toff followed his master, with another suggestion. &ldquo;One word more, sir,
+      before you go. If the American man cannot help us, we must be ready to try
+      another way. Permit me to accompany you as far as my wife&rsquo;s shop. I
+      propose that she shall come back here with me, and examine poor little
+      Miss&rsquo;s bedroom. We will wait, of course, for your return, before anything
+      is done. In the mean time, I entreat you not to despair. It is at least
+      possible that the means of discovery may be found in the bedroom.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They went out together, taking the first cab that passed them. Amelius
+      proceeded alone to the hotel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus was in his room. &ldquo;What&rsquo;s gone wrong?&rdquo; he asked, the moment Amelius
+      opened the door. &ldquo;Shake hands, my son, and smother up that little trouble
+      between us in silence. Your face alarms me&mdash;it does! What of Sally?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius started at the question. &ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t she here?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus drew back. The mere action said, No, before he answered in words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you seen nothing of her? heard nothing of her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing. Steady, now! Meet it like a man; and tell me what has happened.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius told him in two words. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t suppose I&rsquo;m going to break out again
+      as I did this morning,&rdquo; he went on; &ldquo;I&rsquo;m too wretched and too anxious to
+      be angry. Only tell me, Rufus, have you said anything to her&mdash;?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus held up his hand. &ldquo;I see what you&rsquo;re driving at. It will be more to
+      the purpose to tell you what she said to me. From first to last, Amelius,
+      I spoke kindly to her, and I did her justice. Give me a minute to rummage
+      my memory.&rdquo; After brief consideration, he carefully repeated the substance
+      of what had passed between Sally and himself, during the latter part of
+      the interview between them. &ldquo;Have you looked about in her room?&rdquo; he
+      inquired, when he had done. &ldquo;There might be a trifling something to help
+      you, left behind her there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius told him of Toff&rsquo;s suggestion. They returned together at once to
+      the cottage. Madame Toff was waiting to begin the search.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The first discovery was easily made. Sally had taken off one or two little
+      trinkets&mdash;presents from Amelius, which she was in the habit of
+      wearing&mdash;and had left them, wrapped up in paper, on the
+      dressing-table. No such thing as a farewell letter was found near them.
+      The examination of the wardrobe came next&mdash;and here a startling
+      circumstance revealed itself. Every one of the dresses which Amelius had
+      presented to her was hanging in its place. They were not many; and they
+      had all, on previous occasions, been passed in review by Toff&rsquo;s wife. She
+      was absolutely certain that the complete number of the dresses was there
+      in the bedroom. Sally must have worn something, in place of her new
+      clothes. What had she put on?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Looking round the room, Amelius noticed in a corner the box in which he
+      had placed the first new dress that he had purchased for Sally, on the
+      morning after they had met. He tried to open the box: it was locked&mdash;and
+      the key was not to be found. The ever-ready Toff fetched a skewer from the
+      kitchen, and picked the lock in two minutes. On lifting the cover, the box
+      proved to be empty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The one person present who understood what this meant was Amelius.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He remembered that Sally had taken her old threadbare clothes away with
+      her in the box, when the angry landlady had insisted on his leaving the
+      house. &ldquo;I want to look at them sometimes,&rdquo; the poor girl had said, &ldquo;and
+      think how much better off I am now.&rdquo; In those miserable rags she had fled
+      from the cottage, after hearing the cruel truth. &ldquo;He had better have left
+      me where I was,&rdquo; she had said. &ldquo;Cold and hunger and ill-treatment would
+      have laid me at rest by this time.&rdquo; Amelius fell on his knees before the
+      empty box, in helpless despair. The conclusion that now forced itself on
+      his mind completely unmanned him. She had gone back, in the old dress, to
+      die under the cold, the hunger, and the horror of the old life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus took his hand, and spoke to him kindly. He rallied, and dashed the
+      tears from his eyes, and rose to his feet. &ldquo;I know where to look for her,&rdquo;
+       was all he said; &ldquo;and I must do it alone.&rdquo; He refused to enter into any
+      explanation, or to be assisted by any companion. &ldquo;This is my secret and
+      hers,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;Go back to your hotel, Rufus&mdash;and pray that I
+      may not bring news which will make a wretched man of you for the rest of
+      your life.&rdquo; With that he left them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In another hour he stood once more on the spot at which he and Sally had
+      met.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The wild bustle and uproar of the costermongers&rsquo; night market no longer
+      rioted round him: the street by daylight was in a state of dreary repose.
+      Slowly pacing up and down, from one end to another, he waited with but one
+      hope to sustain him&mdash;the hope that she might have taken refuge with
+      the two women who had been her only friends in the dark days of her life.
+      Ignorant of the place in which they lived, he had no choice but to wait
+      for the appearance of one or other of them in the street. He was quiet and
+      resolved. For the rest of the day, and for the whole of the night if need
+      be, his mind was made up to keep steadfastly on the watch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When he could walk no longer, he obtained rest and refreshment in the
+      cookshop which he remembered so well; sitting on a stool near the window,
+      from which he could still command a view of the street. The gas-lamps were
+      alight, and the long winter&rsquo;s night was beginning to set in, when he
+      resumed his weary march from end to end of the pavement. As the darkness
+      became complete, his patience was rewarded at last. Passing the door of a
+      pawnbroker&rsquo;s shop, he met one of the women face to face, walking rapidly,
+      with a little parcel under her arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She recognized him with a cry of joyful surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, sir, how glad I am to see you, to be sure! You&rsquo;ve come to look after
+      Sally, haven&rsquo;t you? Yes, yes; she&rsquo;s safe in our poor place&mdash;but in
+      such a dreadful state. Off her head! clean off her head! Talks of nothing
+      but you. &lsquo;I&rsquo;m in the way of his prospects in life.&rsquo; Over and over and over
+      again, she keeps on saying that. Don&rsquo;t be afraid; Jenny&rsquo;s at home, taking
+      care of her. She wants to go out. Hot and wild, with a kind of fever on
+      her, she wants to go out. She asked if it rained. &lsquo;The rain may kill me in
+      these ragged clothes,&rsquo; she says; &lsquo;and then I shan&rsquo;t be in the way of his
+      prospects in life.&rsquo; We tried to quiet her by telling her it didn&rsquo;t rain&mdash;but
+      it was no use; she was as eager as ever to go out. &lsquo;I may get another blow
+      on the bosom,&rsquo; she says; &lsquo;and, maybe, it will fall on the right place this
+      time.&rsquo; No! there&rsquo;s no fear of the brute who used to beat her&mdash;he&rsquo;s in
+      prison. Don&rsquo;t ask to see her just yet, sir; please don&rsquo;t! I&rsquo;m afraid you
+      would only make her worse, if I took you to her now; I wouldn&rsquo;t dare to
+      risk it. You see, we can&rsquo;t get her to sleep; and we thought of buying
+      something to quiet her at the chemist&rsquo;s. Yes, sir, it would be better to
+      get a doctor to her. But I wasn&rsquo;t going to the doctor. If I must tell you,
+      I was obliged to take the sheets off the bed, to raise a little money&mdash;I
+      was going to the pawnbroker&rsquo;s.&rdquo; She looked at the parcel under her arm,
+      and smiled. &ldquo;I may take the sheets back again, now I&rsquo;ve met with you; and
+      there&rsquo;s a good doctor lives close by&mdash;I can show you the way to him.
+      Oh how pale you do look! Are you very much tired? It&rsquo;s only a little way
+      to the doctor. I&rsquo;ve got an arm at your service&mdash;but you mightn&rsquo;t like
+      to be seen waiting with such a person as me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mentally and physically, Amelius was completely prostrated. The woman&rsquo;s
+      melancholy narrative had overwhelmed him: he could neither speak nor act.
+      He mechanically put his purse in her hand, and went with her to the house
+      of the nearest medical man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor was at home, mixing drugs in his little surgery. After one
+      sharp look at Amelius, he ran into a back parlour, and returned with a
+      glass of spirits. &ldquo;Drink this, sir,&rdquo; he said&mdash;&ldquo;unless you want to
+      find yourself on the floor in a fainting fit. And don&rsquo;t presume again on
+      your youth and strength to treat your heart as if it was made of
+      cast-iron.&rdquo; He signed to Amelius to sit down and rest himself, and turned
+      to the woman to hear what was wanted of him. After a few questions, he
+      said she might go; promising to follow her in a few minutes, when the
+      gentleman would be sufficiently recovered to accompany him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, sir, are you beginning to feel like yourself again?&rdquo; He was mixing
+      a composing draught, while he addressed Amelius in those terms. &ldquo;You may
+      trust that poor wretch, who has just left us, to take care of the sick
+      girl,&rdquo; he went on, in the quaintly familiar manner which seemed to be
+      habitual with him. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t ask how you got into her company&mdash;it&rsquo;s no
+      business of mine. But I am pretty well acquainted with the people in my
+      neighbourhood; and I can tell you one thing, in case you&rsquo;re anxious. The
+      woman who brought you here, barring the one misfortune of her life, is as
+      good a creature as ever breathed; and the other one who lives with her is
+      the same. When I think of what they&rsquo;re exposed to&mdash;well! I take to my
+      pipe, and compose my mind in that way. My early days were all passed as a
+      ship&rsquo;s surgeon. I could get them both respectable employment in Australia,
+      if I only had the money to fit them out. They&rsquo;ll die in the hospital, like
+      the rest, if something isn&rsquo;t done for them. In my hopeful moments, I
+      sometimes think of a subscription. What do you say? Will you put down a
+      few shillings to set the example?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will do more than that,&rdquo; Amelius answered. &ldquo;I have reasons for wishing
+      to befriend both those two poor women; and I will gladly engage to find
+      the outfit.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The familiar old doctor held out his hand over the counter. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re a good
+      fellow, if ever there was one yet!&rdquo; he burst out. &ldquo;I can show references
+      which will satisfy you that I am not a rogue. In the mean time, let&rsquo;s see
+      what is the matter with this little girl; you can tell me about her as we
+      go along.&rdquo; He put his bottle of medicine in his pocket, and his arm in the
+      arm of Amelius&mdash;and so led the way out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When they reached the wretched lodging-house in which the women lived, he
+      suggested that his companion would do well to wait at the door. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m used
+      to sad sights: it would only distress you to see the place. I won&rsquo;t keep
+      you long waiting.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He was as good as his word. In little more than ten minutes, he joined
+      Amelius again in the street.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t alarm yourself,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;The case is not so serious as it looks.
+      The poor child is suffering under a severe shock to the brain and nervous
+      system, caused by that sudden and violent distress you hinted at. My
+      medicine will give her the one thing she wants to begin with&mdash;a good
+      night&rsquo;s sleep.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius asked when she would be well enough to see him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, my young friend, it&rsquo;s not so easy to say, just yet! I could answer
+      you to better purpose tomorrow. Won&rsquo;t that do? Must I venture on a rash
+      opinion? She ought to be composed enough to see you in three or four days.
+      And, when that time comes, it&rsquo;s my belief you will do more than I can do
+      to set her right again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius was relieved, but not quite satisfied yet. He inquired if it was
+      not possible to remove her from that miserable place.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quite impossible&mdash;without doing her serious injury. They have got
+      money to go on with; and I have told you already, she will be well taken
+      care of. I will look after her myself tomorrow morning. Go home, and get
+      to bed, and eat a bit of supper first, and make your mind easy. Come to my
+      house at twelve o&rsquo;clock, noon, and you will find me ready with my
+      references, and my report of the patient. Surgeon Pinfold, Blackacre
+      Buildings; there&rsquo;s the address. Good night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0043" id="link2HCH0043">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 10
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      After Amelius had left him, Rufus remembered his promise to communicate
+      with Regina by telegraph.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With his strict regard for truth, it was no easy matter to decide on what
+      message he should send. To inspire Regina, if possible, with his own
+      unshaken belief in the good faith of Amelius, appeared, on reflection, to
+      be all that he could honestly do, under present circumstances. With an
+      anxious and foreboding mind, he despatched his telegram to Paris in these
+      terms:&mdash;&ldquo;Be patient for a while, and do justice to A. He deserves
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Having completed his business at the telegraph-office, Rufus went next to
+      pay his visit to Mrs. Payson.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The good lady received him with a grave face and a distant manner, in
+      startling contrast to the customary warmth of her welcome. &ldquo;I used to
+      think you were a man in a thousand,&rdquo; she began abruptly; &ldquo;and I find you
+      are no better than the rest of them. If you have come to speak to me about
+      that blackguard young Socialist, understand, if you please, that I am not
+      so easily imposed upon as Miss Regina. I have done my duty; I have opened
+      her eyes to the truth, poor thing. Ah, you ought to be ashamed of
+      yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus kept his temper, with his habitual self-command. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s possible you
+      may be right,&rdquo; he said quietly; &ldquo;but the biggest rascal living has a claim
+      to an explanation, when a lady puzzles him. Have you any particular
+      objection, old friend, to tell me what you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The explanation was not of a nature to set his mind at ease.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Regina had written, by the mail which took Rufus to England, repeating to
+      Mrs. Payson what had passed at the interview in the Champs Elysees, and
+      appealing to her sympathy for information and advice. Receiving the letter
+      that morning, Mrs. Payson, acting on her own generous and compassionate
+      impulses, had already answered it, and sent it to the post. Her experience
+      of the unfortunate persons received at the Home was far from inclining her
+      to believe in the innocence of a runaway girl, placed under circumstances
+      of temptation. As an act of justice towards Regina, she enclosed to her
+      the letter in which Amelius had acknowledged that Sally had passed the
+      night under his roof.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe I am only telling you the shameful truth,&rdquo; Mrs. Payson had
+      written, &ldquo;when I add that the girl has been an inmate of Mr. Goldenheart&rsquo;s
+      cottage ever since. If you can reconcile this disgraceful state of things,
+      with Mr. Rufus Dingwell&rsquo;s assertion of his friend&rsquo;s fidelity to his
+      marriage-engagement, I have no right, and no wish, to make any attempt to
+      alter your opinion. But you have asked for my advice, and I must not
+      shrink from giving it. I am bound as an honest woman, to tell you that
+      your uncle&rsquo;s resolution to break off the engagement represents the course
+      that I should have taken myself, if a daughter of my own had been placed
+      in your painful and humiliating position.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was still ample time to modify this strong expression of opinion by
+      the day&rsquo;s post. Rufus appealed vainly to Mrs. Payson to reconsider the
+      conclusion at which she had arrived. A more charitable and considerate
+      woman, within the limits of her own daily routine, it would not be
+      possible to find. But the largeness of mind which, having long and
+      trustworthy experience of a rule, can nevertheless understand that other
+      minds may have equal experience of the exception to the rule, was one of
+      the qualities which had not been included in the moral composition of Mrs.
+      Payson. She held firmly to her own narrowly conscientious sense of her
+      duty; stimulated by a natural indignation against Amelius, who had
+      bitterly disappointed her&mdash;against Rufus, who had not scrupled to
+      take up his defence. The two old friends parted in coldness, for the first
+      time in their lives.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus returned to his hotel, to wait there for news from Amelius.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The day passed&mdash;and the one visitor who enlivened his solitude was an
+      American friend and correspondent, connected with the agency which managed
+      his affairs in England. The errand of this gentleman was to give his
+      client the soundest and speediest advice, relating to the investment of
+      money. Having indicated the safe and solid speculation, the visitor added
+      a warning word, relating to the plausible and dangerous investments of the
+      day. &ldquo;For instance,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;there&rsquo;s that bank started by Farnaby&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No need to warn me against Farnaby,&rdquo; Rufus interposed; &ldquo;I wouldn&rsquo;t take
+      shares in his bank if he made me a present of them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The American friend looked surprised. &ldquo;Surely,&rdquo; he exclaimed, &ldquo;you can&rsquo;t
+      have heard the news already! They don&rsquo;t even know it yet on the Stock
+      Exchange.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus explained that he had only spoken under the influence of personal
+      prejudice against Mr. Farnaby.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What&rsquo;s in the wind now?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was confidentially informed that a coming storm was in the wind: in
+      other words, that a serious discovery had been made at the bank. Some time
+      since, the directors had advanced a large sum of money to a man in trade,
+      under Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s own guarantee. The man had just died; and examination
+      of his affairs showed that he had only received a few hundred pounds, on
+      condition of holding his tongue. The bulk of the money had been traced to
+      Mr. Farnaby himself, and had all been swallowed up by his newspaper, his
+      patent medicine, and his other rotten speculations, apart from his own
+      proper business. &ldquo;You may not know it,&rdquo; the American friend concluded,
+      &ldquo;but the fact is, Farnaby rose from the dregs. His bankruptcy is only a
+      question of time&mdash;he will drop back to the dregs; and, quite
+      possibly, make his appearance to answer a criminal charge in a court of
+      law. I hear that Melton, whose credit has held up the bank lately, is off
+      to see his friend in Paris. They say Farnaby&rsquo;s niece is a handsome girl,
+      and Melton is sweet on her. Awkward for Melton.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus listened attentively. In signing the order for his investments, he
+      privately decided to stir no further, for the present, in the matter of
+      his young friend&rsquo;s marriage-engagement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For the rest of the day and evening, he still waited for Amelius, and
+      waited in vain. It was drawing near to midnight, when Toff made his
+      appearance with a message from his master. Amelius had discovered Sally,
+      and had returned in such a state of fatigue that he was only fit to take
+      some refreshment, and to go to his bed. He would be away from home again,
+      on the next morning; but he hoped to call at the hotel in the course of
+      the day. Observing Toff&rsquo;s face with grave and steady scrutiny, Rufus tried
+      to extract some further information from him. But the old Frenchman stood
+      on his dignity, in a state of immovable reserve.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You took me by the shoulder this morning, sir, and spun me round,&rdquo; he
+      said; &ldquo;I do not desire to be treated a second time like a teetotum. For
+      the rest, it is not my habit to intrude myself into my master&rsquo;s secrets.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s not <i>my</i> habit,&rdquo; Rufus coolly rejoined, &ldquo;to bear malice. I beg
+      to apologise sincerely, sir, for treating you like a teetotum; and I offer
+      you my hand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Toff had got as far as the door. He instantly returned, with the dignity
+      which a Frenchman can always command in the serious emergencies of his
+      life. &ldquo;You appeal to my heart and my honour, sir,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I bury the
+      events of the morning in oblivion; and I do myself the honour of taking
+      your hand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As the door closed on him, Rufus smiled grimly. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re not in the habit
+      of intruding yourself into your master&rsquo;s secrets,&rdquo; he repeated. &ldquo;If
+      Amelius reads your face as I read it, he&rsquo;ll look over his shoulder when he
+      goes out tomorrow&mdash;and, ten to one, he&rsquo;ll see you behind him in the
+      distance!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Late on the next day, Amelius presented himself at the hotel. In speaking
+      of Sally, he was unusually reserved, merely saying that she was ill, and
+      under medical care, and then changing the subject. Struck by the depressed
+      and anxious expression of his face, Rufus asked if he had heard from
+      Regina. No: a longer time than usual had passed since Regina had written
+      to him. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t understand it,&rdquo; he said sadly. &ldquo;I suppose you didn&rsquo;t see
+      anything of her in Paris?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus had kept his promise not to mention Regina&rsquo;s name in Sally&rsquo;s
+      presence. But it was impossible for him to look at Amelius, without
+      plainly answering the question put to him, for the sake of the friend whom
+      he loved. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m afraid there&rsquo;s trouble coming to you, my son, from that
+      quarter.&rdquo; With those warning words, he described all that had passed
+      between Regina and himself. &ldquo;Some unknown enemy of yours has spoken
+      against you to her uncle,&rdquo; he concluded. &ldquo;I suppose you have made enemies,
+      my poor old boy, since you have been in London?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know the man,&rdquo; Amelius answered. &ldquo;He wanted to marry Regina before I
+      met with her. His name is Melton.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus started. &ldquo;I heard only yesterday, he was in Paris with Farnaby. And
+      that&rsquo;s not the worst of it, Amelius. There&rsquo;s another of them making
+      mischief&mdash;a good friend of mine who has shown a twist in her temper,
+      that has taken me by surprise after twenty years&rsquo; experience of her. I
+      reckon there&rsquo;s a drop of malice in the composition of the best woman that
+      ever lived&mdash;and the men only discover it when another woman steps in,
+      and stirs it up. Wait a bit!&rdquo; he went on, when he had related the result
+      of his visit to Mrs. Payson. &ldquo;I have telegraphed to Miss Regina to be
+      patient, and to trust you. Don&rsquo;t you write to defend yourself, till you
+      hear how you stand in her estimation, after my message. Tomorrow&rsquo;s post
+      may tell.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Tomorrow&rsquo;s post did tell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Two letters reached Amelius from Paris. One from Mr. Farnaby, curt and
+      insolent, breaking off the marriage-engagement. The other, from Regina,
+      expressed with great severity of language. Her weak nature, like all weak
+      natures, ran easily into extremes, and, once roused into asserting itself,
+      took refuge in violence as a shy person takes refuge in audacity. Only a
+      woman of larger and firmer mind would have written of her wrongs in a more
+      just and more moderate tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Regina began without any preliminary form of address. She had no heart to
+      upbraid Amelius, and no wish to speak of what she was suffering, to a man
+      who had but too plainly shown that he had no respect for himself, and
+      neither love, nor pity even, for her. In justice to herself, she released
+      him from his promise, and returned his letters and his presents. Her own
+      letters might be sent in a sealed packet, addressed to her at her uncle&rsquo;s
+      place of business in London. She would pray that he might be brought to a
+      sense of the sin that he had committed, and that he might yet live to be a
+      worthy and a happy man. For the rest, her decision was irrevocable. His
+      own letter to Mrs. Payson condemned him&mdash;and the testimony of an old
+      and honoured friend of her uncle proved that his wickedness was no mere
+      act of impulse, but a deliberate course of infamy and falsehood, continued
+      over many weeks. From the moment when she made that discovery, he was a
+      stranger to her&mdash;and she now bade him farewell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you written to her?&rdquo; Rufus asked, when he had seen the letters.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius reddened with indignation. He was not aware of it himself&mdash;but
+      his look and manner plainly revealed that Regina had lost her last hold on
+      him. Her letter had inflicted an insult&mdash;not a wound: he was outraged
+      and revolted; the deeper and gentler feelings, the emotions of a grieved
+      and humiliated lover, had been killed in him by her stern words of
+      dismissal and farewell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you think I would allow myself to be treated in that way, without a
+      word of protest?&rdquo; he said to Rufus. &ldquo;I have written, refusing to take back
+      my promise. &lsquo;I declare, on my word of honour, that I have been faithful to
+      you and to my engagement&rsquo;&mdash;that was how I put it&mdash;&lsquo;and I scorn
+      the vile construction which your uncle and his friend have placed upon an
+      act of Christian mercy on my part.&rsquo; I wrote more tenderly, before I
+      finished my letter; feeling for her distress, and being anxious above all
+      things not to add to it. We shall see if she has love enough left for me
+      to trust my faith and honour, instead of trusting false appearances. I
+      will give her time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus considerately abstained from expressing any opinion. He waited until
+      the morning when a reply might be expected from Paris; and then he called
+      at the cottage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Without a word of comment, Amelius put a letter into his friend&rsquo;s hand. It
+      was his own letter to Regina returned to him. On the back of it, there was
+      a line in Mr. Farnaby&rsquo;s handwriting:&mdash;&ldquo;If you send any more letters
+      they will be burnt unopened.&rdquo; In those insolent terms the wretch wrote
+      with bankruptcy and exposure hanging over his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus spoke plainly upon this. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s an end of it now,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;That
+      girl would never have made the right wife for you, Amelius: you&rsquo;re well
+      out of it. Forget that you ever knew these people; and let us talk of
+      something else. How is Sally?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At that ill-timed inquiry, Amelius showed his temper again. He was in a
+      state of nervous irritability which made him apt to take offence, where no
+      offence was intended. &ldquo;Oh, you needn&rsquo;t be alarmed!&rdquo; he answered
+      petulantly; &ldquo;there&rsquo;s no fear of the poor child coming back to live with
+      me. She is still under the doctor&rsquo;s care.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus passed over the angry reply without notice, and patted him on the
+      shoulder. &ldquo;I spoke of the girl,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;because I wanted to help her;
+      and I can help her, if you will let me. Before long, my son, I shall be
+      going back to the United States. I wish you would go with me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And desert Sally!&rdquo; cried Amelius.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing of the sort! Before we go, I&rsquo;ll see that Sally is provided for to
+      your satisfaction. Will you think of it, to please me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius relented. &ldquo;Anything, to please you,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus noticed his hat and gloves on the table, and left him without saying
+      more. &ldquo;The trouble with Amelius,&rdquo; he thought, as he closed the cottage
+      gate, &ldquo;is not over yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0044" id="link2HCH0044">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 11
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The day on which worthy old Surgeon Pinfold had predicted that Sally would
+      be in a fair way of recovery had come and gone; and still the medical
+      report to Amelius was the same:&mdash;&ldquo;You must be patient, sir; she is
+      not well enough to see you yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Toff, watching his young master anxiously, was alarmed by the steadily
+      progressive change in him for the worse, which showed itself at this time.
+      Now sad and silent, and now again bitter and irritable, he had
+      deteriorated physically as well as morally, until he really looked like
+      the shadow of his former self. He never exchanged a word with his faithful
+      old servant, except when he said mechanically, &ldquo;good morning&rdquo; or &ldquo;good
+      night.&rdquo; Toff could endure it no longer. At the risk of being roughly
+      misinterpreted, he followed his own kindly impulse, and spoke. &ldquo;May I own
+      to you, sir,&rdquo; he said, with perfect gentleness and respect, &ldquo;that I am
+      indeed heartily sorry to see you so ill?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius looked up at him sharply. &ldquo;You servants always make a fuss about
+      trifles. I am a little out of sorts; and I want a change&mdash;that&rsquo;s all.
+      Perhaps I may go to America. You won&rsquo;t like that; I shan&rsquo;t complain if you
+      look out for another situation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The tears came into the old man&rsquo;s eyes. &ldquo;Never!&rdquo; he answered fervently.
+      &ldquo;My last service, sir, if you send me away, shall be my dearly loved
+      service here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      All that was most tender in the nature of Amelius was touched to the
+      quick. &ldquo;Forgive me, Toff,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;I am lonely and wretched, and more
+      anxious about Sally than words can tell. There can be no change in my
+      life, until my mind is easy about that poor little girl. But if it does
+      end in my going to America, you shall go with me&mdash;I wouldn&rsquo;t lose
+      you, my good friend, for the world.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Toff still remained in the room, as if he had something left to say.
+      Entirely ignorant of the marriage engagement between Amelius and Regina,
+      and of the rupture in which it had ended, he vaguely suspected
+      nevertheless that his master might have fallen into an entanglement with
+      some lady unknown. The opportunity of putting the question was now before
+      him. He risked it in a studiously modest form.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you going to America to be married, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius eyed him with a momentary suspicion. &ldquo;What has put that in your
+      head?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know, sir,&rdquo; Toff answered humbly&mdash;&ldquo;unless it was my own
+      vivid imagination. Would there be anything very wonderful in a gentleman
+      of your age and appearance conducting some charming person to the altar?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius was conquered once more; he smiled faintly. &ldquo;Enough of your
+      nonsense, Toff! I shall never be married&mdash;understand that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Toff&rsquo;s withered old face brightened slyly. He turned away to withdraw;
+      hesitated; and suddenly went back to his master.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you any occasion for my services, sir, for an hour or two?&rdquo; he
+      asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. Be back before I go out, myself&mdash;be back at three o&rsquo;clock.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, sir. My little boy is below, if you want anything in my
+      absence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The little boy dutifully attending Toff to the gate, observed with grave
+      surprise that his father snapped his fingers gaily at starting, and hummed
+      the first bars of the Marseillaise. &ldquo;Something is going to happen,&rdquo; said
+      Toff&rsquo;s boy, on his way back to the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From the Regent&rsquo;s Park to Blackacre Buildings is almost a journey from one
+      end of London to the other. Assisted for part of the way by an omnibus,
+      Toff made the journey, and arrived at the residence of Surgeon Pinfold,
+      with the easy confidence of a man who knew thoroughly well where he was
+      going, and what he was about. The sagacity of Rufus had correctly
+      penetrated his intentions; he had privately followed his master, and had
+      introduced himself to the notice of the surgeon&mdash;with a mixture of
+      motives, in which pure devotion to the interests of Amelius played the
+      chief part. His experience of the world told him that Sally&rsquo;s departure
+      was only the beginning of more trouble to come. &ldquo;What is the use of me to
+      my master,&rdquo; he had argued, &ldquo;except to spare him trouble, in spite of
+      himself?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Surgeon Pinfold was prescribing for a row of sick people, seated before
+      him on a bench. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re not ill, are you?&rdquo; he said sharply to Toff. &ldquo;Very
+      well, then, go into the parlour and wait.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The patients being dismissed, Toff attempted to explain the object of his
+      visit. But the old naval surgeon insisted on clearing the ground by means
+      of a plain question first. &ldquo;Has your master sent you here&mdash;or is this
+      another private interview, like the last?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is all that is most private,&rdquo; Toff answered; &ldquo;my poor master is
+      wasting away in unrelieved wretchedness and suspense. Something must be
+      done for him. Oh, dear and good sir, help me in this most miserable state
+      of things! Tell me the truth about Miss Sally!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Pinfold put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the parlour
+      wall, looking at the Frenchman with a complicated expression, in which
+      genuine sympathy mingled oddly with a quaint sense of amusement. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re a
+      worthy chap,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;and you shall have the truth. I have been obliged
+      to deceive your master about this troublesome young Sally; I have stuck to
+      it that she is too ill to see him, or to answer his letters. Both lies.
+      There&rsquo;s nothing the matter with her now, but a disease that I can&rsquo;t cure,
+      the disease of a troubled mind. She&rsquo;s got it into her head that she has
+      everlastingly degraded herself in his estimation by leaving him and coming
+      here. It&rsquo;s no use telling her&mdash;what, mind you, is perfectly true&mdash;that
+      she was all but out of her senses, and not in the least responsible for
+      what she did at the time when she did it. She holds to her own opinion,
+      nevertheless. &lsquo;What can he think of me, but that I have gone back
+      willingly to the disgrace of my old life? I should throw myself out of the
+      window, if he came into the room!&rsquo; That&rsquo;s how she answers me&mdash;and,
+      what makes matters worse still, she&rsquo;s breaking her heart about him all the
+      time. The poor wretch is so eager for any little word of news about his
+      health and his doings, that it&rsquo;s downright pitiable to see her. I don&rsquo;t
+      think her fevered little brain will bear it much longer&mdash;and hang me
+      if I can tell what to do next to set things right! The two women, her
+      friends, have no sort of influence over her. When I saw her this morning,
+      she was ungrateful enough to say, &lsquo;Why didn&rsquo;t you let me die?&rsquo; How your
+      master got among these unfortunate people is more than I know, and is no
+      business of mine; I only wish he had been a different sort of man. Before
+      I knew him as well as I know him now, I predicted, like a fool, that he
+      would be just the person to help us in managing the girl. I have altered
+      my opinion. He&rsquo;s such a glorious fellow&mdash;so impulsive and so
+      tender-hearted&mdash;that he would be certain, in her present excited
+      state, to do her more harm than good. Do you know if he is going to be
+      married?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Toff, listening thus far in silent distress, suddenly looked up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why do you ask me, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s an idle question, I dare say,&rdquo; old Pinfold remarked. &ldquo;Sally persists
+      in telling us she&rsquo;s in the way of his prospects in life&mdash;and it&rsquo;s got
+      somehow into her perverse little head that his prospects in life mean his
+      marriage, and she&rsquo;s in the way of <i>that.</i>&mdash;Hullo! are you going
+      already?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I want to go to Miss Sally, sir. I believe I can say something to comfort
+      her. Do you think she will see me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you the man who has got the nickname of Toff? She sometimes talks
+      about Toff.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir, yes! I am Theophile Leblond, otherwise Toff. Where can I find
+      her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Surgeon Pinfold rang a bell. &ldquo;My errand-boy is going past the house, to
+      deliver some medicine,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a poor place; but you&rsquo;ll find
+      it neat and nice enough&mdash;thanks to your good master. He&rsquo;s helping the
+      two women to begin life again out of this country; and, while they&rsquo;re
+      waiting their turn to get a passage, they&rsquo;ve taken an extra room and hired
+      some decent furniture, by your master&rsquo;s own wish. Oh, here&rsquo;s the boy;
+      he&rsquo;ll show you the way. One word before you go. What do you think of
+      saying to Sally?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall tell her, for one thing, sir, that my master is miserable for
+      want of her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Surgeon Pinfold shook his head. &ldquo;That won&rsquo;t take you very far on the way
+      to persuading her. You will make <i>her</i> miserable too&mdash;and
+      there&rsquo;s about all you will get by it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Toff lifted his indicative forefinger to the side of his nose. &ldquo;Suppose I
+      tell her something else, sir? Suppose I tell her my master is not going to
+      be married to anybody?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She won&rsquo;t believe you know anything about it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She will believe, for this reason,&rdquo; said Toff, gravely; &ldquo;I put the
+      question to my master before I came here; and I have it from his own lips
+      that there is no young lady in the way, and that he is not&mdash;positively
+      not&mdash;going to be married. If I tell Miss Sally this, sir, how do you
+      say it will end? Will you bet me a shilling it has no effect on her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I won&rsquo;t bet a farthing! Follow the boy&mdash;and tell young Sally I have
+      sent her a better doctor than I am.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      While Toff was on his way to Sally, Toff&rsquo;s boy was disturbing Amelius by
+      the announcement of a visitor. The card sent in bore this inscription:
+      &ldquo;Brother Bawkwell, from Tadmor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius looked at the card; and ran into the hall to receive the visitor,
+      with both hands held out in hearty welcome. &ldquo;Oh, I am so glad to see you!&rdquo;
+       he cried. &ldquo;Come in, and tell me all about Tadmor!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brother Bawkwell acknowledged the enthusiastic reception offered to him by
+      a stare of grim surprise. He was a dry, hard old man, with a scrubby white
+      beard, a narrow wrinkled forehead, and an obstinate lipless mouth; fitted
+      neither by age nor temperament to be the intimate friend of any of his
+      younger brethren among the Community. But, at that saddest time of his
+      life, the heart of Amelius warmed to any one who reminded him of his
+      tranquil and happy days at Tadmor. Even this frozen old Socialist now
+      appeared to him, for the first time, under the borrowed aspect of a
+      welcome friend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Brother Bawkwell took the chair offered to him, and opened the
+      proceedings, in solemn silence, by looking at his watch. &ldquo;Twenty-five
+      minutes past two,&rdquo; he said to himself&mdash;and put the watch back again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you pressed for time?&rdquo; Amelius asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Much may be done in ten minutes,&rdquo; Brother Bawkwell answered, in a Scotch
+      accent which had survived the test of half a lifetime in America. &ldquo;I would
+      have you know I am in England on a mission from the Community, with a list
+      of twenty-seven persons in all, whom I am appointed to confer with on
+      matters of varying importance. Yours, friend Amelius, is a matter of minor
+      importance. I can give you ten minutes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He opened a big black pocket-book, stuffed with a mass of letters; and,
+      placing two of them on the table before him, addressed Amelius as if he
+      was making a speech at a public meeting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have to request your attention to certain proceedings of the Council at
+      Tadmor, bearing date the third of December last; and referring to a person
+      under sentence of temporary separation from the Community, along with
+      yourself&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mellicent!&rdquo; Amelius exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We have no time for interruptions,&rdquo; Brother Bawkwell remarked. &ldquo;The
+      person <i>is</i> Sister Mellicent; and the business before the Council was
+      to consider a letter, under her signature, received December second. Said
+      letter,&rdquo; he proceeded, taking up one of his papers, &ldquo;is abridged as
+      follows by the Secretary to the Council. In substance, the writer states
+      (first): &lsquo;That the married sister under whose protection she has been
+      living at New York is about to settle in England with her husband,
+      appointed to manage the branch of his business established in London.
+      (Second): That she, meaning Sister Mellicent, has serious reasons for not
+      accompanying her relatives to England, and has no other friends to take
+      charge of her welfare, if she remains in New York. (Third): That she
+      appeals to the mercy of the Council, under these circumstances, to accept
+      the expression of her sincere repentance for the offence of violating a
+      Rule, and to permit a friendless and penitent creature to return to the
+      only home left to her, her home at Tadmor.&rsquo; No, friend Amelius&mdash;we
+      have no time for expressions of sympathy; the first half of the ten
+      minutes has nearly expired. I have further to notify you that the question
+      was put to the vote, in this form: &lsquo;Is it consistent with the serious
+      responsibility which rests on the Council, to consider the remission of
+      any sentence justly pronounced under the Book of Rules?&rsquo; The result was
+      very remarkable; the votes for and against being equally divided. In this
+      event, as you know, our laws provide that the decision rests with the
+      Elder Brother&mdash;who gave his vote thereupon for considering the
+      remission of the sentence; and moved the next resolution that the sentence
+      be remitted accordingly. Carried by a small majority. Whereupon, Sister
+      Mellicent was received again at Tadmor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, the dear old Elder Brother,&rdquo; cried Amelius&mdash;&ldquo;always on the side
+      of mercy!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brother Bawkwell held up his hand in protest. &ldquo;You seem to have no idea,&rdquo;
+       he said, &ldquo;of the value of time. Do be quiet! As travelling representative
+      of the Council, I am further instructed to say, that the sentence
+      pronounced against yourself stands duly remitted, in consequence of the
+      remission of the sentence against Sister Mellicent. You likewise are free
+      to return to Tadmor, at your own will and pleasure. But&mdash;attend to
+      what is coming, friend Amelius!&mdash;the Council holds to its resolution
+      that your choice between us and the world shall be absolutely unbiased. In
+      the fear of exercising even an indirect influence, we have purposely
+      abstained from corresponding with you. With the same motive we now say,
+      that if you do return to us, it must be with no interference on our part.
+      We inform you of an event that has happened in your absence&mdash;and we
+      do no more.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He paused, and looked again at his watch. Time proverbially works wonders.
+      Time closed his lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius replied with a heavy heart. The message from the Council had
+      recalled him from the remembrance of Mellicent to the sense of his own
+      position. &ldquo;My experience of the world has been a very hard one,&rdquo; he said.
+      &ldquo;I would gladly go back to Tadmor this very day, but for one consideration&mdash;&rdquo;
+       He hesitated; the image of Sally was before him. The tears rose in his
+      eyes; he said no more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Brother Bawkwell, driven hard by time, got on his legs, and handed to
+      Amelius the second of the two papers which he had taken out of his
+      pocket-book.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here is a purely informal document,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;being a few lines from
+      Sister Mellicent, which I was charged to deliver to you. Be pleased to
+      read it as quickly as you can, and tell me if there is any reply.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was not much to read:&mdash;&ldquo;The good people here, Amelius, have
+      forgiven me and let me return to them. I am living happily now, dear, in
+      my remembrances of you. I take the walks that we once took together&mdash;and
+      sometimes I go out in the boat on the lake, and think of the time when I
+      told you my sad story. Your poor little pet creatures are under my care;
+      the dog, and the fawn, and the birds&mdash;all well, and waiting for you,
+      with me. My belief that you will come back to me remains the same unshaken
+      belief that it has been from the first. Once more I say it&mdash;you will
+      find me the first to welcome you, when your spirits are sinking under the
+      burden of life, and your heart turns again to the friends of your early
+      days. Until that time comes, think of me now and then. Good-bye.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am waiting,&rdquo; said Brother Bawkwell, taking his hat in his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius answered with an effort. &ldquo;Thank her kindly in my name,&rdquo; he said:
+      &ldquo;that is all.&rdquo; His head drooped while he spoke; he fell into thought as if
+      he had been alone in the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the emissary from Tadmor, warned by the minute-hand on the watch,
+      recalled his attention to passing events. &ldquo;You would do me a kindness,&rdquo;
+       said Brother Bawkwell, producing a list of names and addresses, &ldquo;if you
+      could put me in the way of finding the person named, eighth from the top.
+      It&rsquo;s getting on towards twenty minutes to three.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The address thus pointed out was at no great distance, on the northern
+      side of the Regent&rsquo;s Park. Amelius, still silent and thoughtful, acted
+      willingly as a guide. &ldquo;Please thank the Council for their kindness to me,&rdquo;
+       he said, when they reached their destination. Brother Bawkwell looked at
+      friend Amelius with a calm inquiring eye. &ldquo;I think you&rsquo;ll end in coming
+      back to us,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll take the opportunity, when I see you at
+      Tadmor, of making a few needful remarks on the value of time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius went back to the cottage, to see if Toff had returned, in his
+      absence, before he paid his daily visit to Surgeon Pinfold. He called down
+      the kitchen stairs, &ldquo;Are you there, Toff?&rdquo; And Toff answered briskly, &ldquo;At
+      your service, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The sky had become cloudy, and threatened rain. Not finding his umbrella
+      in the hall, Amelius went into the library to look for it. As he closed
+      the door behind him, Toff and his boy appeared on the kitchen stairs; both
+      walking on tiptoe, and both evidently on the watch for something.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amelius found his umbrella. But it was characteristic of the melancholy
+      change in him that he dropped languidly into the nearest chair, instead of
+      going out at once with the easy activity of happier days. Sally was in his
+      mind again; he was rousing his resolution to set the doctor&rsquo;s commands at
+      defiance, and to insist on seeing her, come what might of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He suddenly looked up. A slight sound had startled him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a faint rustling sound; and it came from the sadly silent room
+      which had once been Sally&rsquo;s.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He listened, and heard it again. He sprang to his feet&mdash;his heart
+      beat wildly&mdash;he opened the door of the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was there.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her hands were clasped over her fast-heaving breast. She was powerless to
+      look at him, powerless to speak to him&mdash;powerless to move towards
+      him, until he opened his arms to her. Then, all the love and all the
+      sorrow in the tender little heart flowed outward to him in a low murmuring
+      cry. She hid her blushing face on his bosom. The rosy colour softly tinged
+      her neck&mdash;the unspoken confession of all she feared, and all she
+      hoped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a time beyond words. They were silent in each other&rsquo;s arms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But under them, on the floor below, the stillness in the cottage was
+      merrily broken by an outburst of dance-music&mdash;with a rhythmical
+      thump-thump of feet, keeping time to the cheerful tune. Toff was playing
+      his fiddle; and Toff&rsquo;s boy was dancing to his father&rsquo;s music.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0045" id="link2HCH0045">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER 12
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      After waiting a day or two for news from Amelius, and hearing nothing,
+      Rufus went to make inquiries at the cottage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My master has gone out of town, sir,&rdquo; said Toff, opening the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Anybody with him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Any news of Sally?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus stepped into the hall. &ldquo;Look here, Mr. Frenchman, three times is
+      enough. I have already apologized for treating you like a teetotum, on a
+      former occasion. I&rsquo;m afraid I shall do it again, sir, if I don&rsquo;t get an
+      answer to my next question&mdash;my hands are itching to be at you, they
+      are! When is Amelius expected back?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your question is positive, sir,&rdquo; said Toff, with dignity. &ldquo;I am happy to
+      be able to meet it with a positive reply. My master is expected back in
+      three weeks&rsquo; time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Having obtained some information at last, Rufus debated with himself what
+      he should do next. He decided that &ldquo;the boy was worth waiting for,&rdquo; and
+      that his wisest course (as a good American) would be to go back, and wait
+      in Paris.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Passing through the Garden of the Tuileries, two or three days later, and
+      crossing to the Rue de Rivoli, the name of one of the hotels in that
+      quarter reminded him of Regina. He yielded to the prompting of curiosity,
+      and inquired if Mr. Farnaby and his niece were still in Paris.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The manager of the hotel was in the porter&rsquo;s lodge at the time. So far as
+      he knew, he said, Mr. Farnaby and his niece, and an English gentleman with
+      them, were now on their travels. They had left the hotel with an
+      appearance of mystery. The courier had been discharged; and the coachman
+      of the hired carriage which took them away had been told to drive straight
+      forward until further orders. In short, as the manager put it, the
+      departure resembled a flight. Remembering what his American agent had told
+      him, Rufus received this information without surprise. Even the apparently
+      incomprehensible devotion of Mr. Melton to the interests of such a man as
+      Farnaby, failed to present itself to him as a perplexing circumstance. To
+      his mind, Mr. Melton&rsquo;s conduct was plainly attributable to a reward in
+      prospect; and the name of that reward was&mdash;Miss Regina.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the end of the three weeks, Rufus returned to London.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Once again, he and Toff confronted each other on the threshold of the
+      door. This time, the genial old man presented an appearance that was
+      little less than dazzling. From head to foot he was arrayed in new
+      clothes; and he exhibited an immense rosette of white ribbon in his
+      button-hole.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thunder!&rdquo; cried Rufus. &ldquo;Here&rsquo;s Mr. Frenchman going to be married!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Toff declined to humour the joke. He stood on his dignity as stiffly as
+      ever. &ldquo;Pardon me, sir, I possess a wife and family already.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you, now? Well&mdash;none of your know-nothing answers this time. Has
+      Amelius come back?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what&rsquo;s the news of Sally?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good news, sir. Miss Sally has come back too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You call that good news, do you? I&rsquo;ll say a word to Amelius. What are you
+      standing there for? Let me by.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon me once more, sir. My master and Miss Sally do not receive
+      visitors today.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your master and Miss Sally?&rdquo; Rufus repeated. &ldquo;Has this old creature been
+      liquoring up a little too freely? What do you mean,&rdquo; he burst out, with a
+      sudden change of tone to stern surprise&mdash;&ldquo;what do you mean by putting
+      your master and Sally together?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Toff shot his bolt at last. &ldquo;They will be together, sir, for the rest of
+      their lives. They were married this morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rufus received the blow in dead silence. He turned about, and went back to
+      his hotel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Reaching his room, he opened the despatch box in which he kept his
+      correspondence, and picked out the long letter containing the description
+      by Amelius of his introduction to the ladies of the Farnaby family. He
+      took up the pen, and wrote the indorsement which has been quoted as an
+      integral part of the letter itself, in the Second Book of this narrative:&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, poor Amelius! He had better have gone back to Miss Mellicent, and put
+      up with the little drawback of her age. What a bright lovable fellow he
+      was! Goodbye to Goldenheart!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Were the forebodings of Rufus destined to be fulfilled? This question will
+      be answered, it is hoped, in a Second Series of The Fallen Leaves. The
+      narrative of the married life of Amelius presents a subject too important
+      to be treated within the limits of the present story&mdash;and the First
+      Series necessarily finds its end in the culminating event of his life,
+      thus far.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      THE END <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Fallen Leaves, by Wilkie Collins
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FALLEN LEAVES ***
+
+***** This file should be named 7894-h.htm or 7894-h.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/7/8/9/7894/
+
+Produced by James Rusk, and David Widger
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase &ldquo;Project
+Gutenberg&rdquo;), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+http://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  &ldquo;Project Gutenberg&rdquo; is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (&ldquo;the Foundation&rdquo;
+ or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase &ldquo;Project Gutenberg&rdquo; appears, or with which the phrase &ldquo;Project
+Gutenberg&rdquo; is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase &ldquo;Project Gutenberg&rdquo; associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+&ldquo;Plain Vanilla ASCII&rdquo; or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original &ldquo;Plain Vanilla ASCII&rdquo; or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, &ldquo;Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.&rdquo;
+ 
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+&ldquo;Defects,&rdquo; such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the &ldquo;Right
+of Replacement or Refund&rdquo; described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you &lsquo;AS-IS&rsquo; WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm&rsquo;s
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation&rsquo;s EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+http://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state&rsquo;s laws.
+
+The Foundation&rsquo;s principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation&rsquo;s web site and official
+page at http://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit http://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     http://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
+
+</pre>
+  </body>
+</html>
diff --git a/7894.txt b/7894.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ecb60a9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/7894.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,14257 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Fallen Leaves, by Wilkie Collins
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Fallen Leaves
+
+Author: Wilkie Collins
+
+Release Date: April, 2005 [EBook #7894]
+Posting Date: July 26, 2009
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FALLEN LEAVES ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by James Rusk
+
+
+
+
+
+THE FALLEN LEAVES
+
+By Wilkie Collins
+
+
+To CAROLINE
+
+Experience of the reception of _The Fallen Leaves_ by intelligent
+readers, who have followed the course of the periodical publication at
+home and abroad, has satisfied me that the design of the work speaks
+for itself, and that the scrupulous delicacy of treatment, in certain
+portions of the story, has been as justly appreciated as I could wish.
+Having nothing to explain, and (so far as my choice of subject is
+concerned) nothing to excuse, I leave my book, without any prefatory
+pleading for it, to make its appeal to the reading public on such merits
+as it may possess.
+
+W. C. GLOUCESTER PLACE, LONDON July 1st, 1879
+
+
+
+
+THE PROLOGUE
+
+I
+
+The resistless influences which are one day to reign supreme over
+our poor hearts, and to shape the sad short course of our lives, are
+sometimes of mysteriously remote origin, and find their devious ways to
+us through the hearts and the lives of strangers.
+
+While the young man whose troubled career it is here proposed to follow
+was wearing his first jacket, and bowling his first hoop, a domestic
+misfortune, falling on a household of strangers, was destined
+nevertheless to have its ultimate influence over his happiness, and to
+shape the whole aftercourse of his life.
+
+For this reason, some First Words must precede the Story, and must
+present the brief narrative of what happened in the household of
+strangers. By what devious ways the event here related affected the
+chief personage of these pages, when he grew to manhood, it will be the
+business of the story to trace, over land and sea, among men and women,
+in bright days and dull days alike, until the end is reached, and the
+pen (God willing) is put back in the desk.
+
+II
+
+Old Benjamin Ronald (of the Stationers' Company) took a young wife at
+the ripe age of fifty, and carried with him into the holy estate of
+matrimony some of the habits of his bachelor life.
+
+As a bachelor, he had never willingly left his shop (situated in that
+exclusively commercial region of London which is called "the City") from
+one year's end to another. As a married man, he persisted in following
+the same monotonous course; with this one difference, that he now had
+a woman to follow it with him. "Travelling by railway," he explained to
+his wife, "will make your head ache--it makes _my_ head ache. Travelling
+by sea will make you sick--it makes _me_ sick. If you want change of
+air, every sort of air is to be found in the City. If you admire the
+beauties of Nature, there is Finsbury Square with the beauties of Nature
+carefully selected and arranged. When we are in London, you (and I) are
+all right; and when we are out of London, you (and I) are all wrong."
+As surely as the autumn holiday season set in, so surely Old Ronald
+resisted his wife's petition for a change of scene in that form of
+words. A man habitually fortified behind his own inbred obstinacy and
+selfishness is for the most part an irresistible power within the limits
+of his domestic circle. As a rule, patient Mrs. Ronald yielded; and her
+husband stood revealed to his neighbours in the glorious character of a
+married man who had his own way.
+
+But in the autumn of 1856, the retribution which sooner or later
+descends on all despotisms, great and small, overtook the iron rule of
+Old Ronald, and defeated the domestic tyrant on the battle-field of his
+own fireside.
+
+The children born of the marriage, two in number, were both daughters.
+The elder had mortally offended her father by marrying imprudently--in
+a pecuniary sense. He had declared that she should never enter his house
+again; and he had mercilessly kept his word. The younger daughter
+(now eighteen years of age) proved to be also a source of parental
+inquietude, in another way. She was the passive cause of the revolt
+which set her father's authority at defiance. For some little time past
+she had been out of health. After many ineffectual trials of the mild
+influence of persuasion, her mother's patience at last gave way. Mrs.
+Ronald insisted--yes, actually insisted--on taking Miss Emma to the
+seaside.
+
+"What's the matter with you?" Old Ronald asked; detecting something that
+perplexed him in his wife's look and manner, on the memorable occasion
+when she asserted a will of her own for the first time in her life.
+
+A man of finer observation would have discovered the signs of no
+ordinary anxiety and alarm, struggling to show themselves openly in the
+poor woman's face. Her husband only saw a change that puzzled him. "Send
+for Emma," he said, his natural cunning inspiring him with the idea of
+confronting the mother and daughter, and of seeing what came of _that._
+Emma appeared, plump and short, with large blue eyes, and full pouting
+lips, and splendid yellow hair: otherwise, miserably pale, languid
+in her movements, careless in her dress, sullen in her manner. Out of
+health as her mother said, and as her father saw.
+
+"You can see for yourself," said Mrs. Ronald, "that the girl is pining
+for fresh air. I have heard Ramsgate recommended."
+
+Old Ronald looked at his daughter. She represented the one tender place
+in his nature. It was not a large place; but it did exist. And the proof
+of it is, that he began to yield--with the worst possible grace.
+
+"Well, we will see about it," he said.
+
+"There is no time to be lost," Mrs. Ronald persisted. "I mean to take
+her to Ramsgate tomorrow."
+
+Mr. Ronald looked at his wife as a dog looks at the maddened sheep that
+turns on him. "You mean?" repeated the stationer. "Upon my soul--what
+next? You mean? Where is the money to come from? Answer me that."
+
+Mrs. Ronald declined to be drawn into a conjugal dispute, in the
+presence of her daughter. She took Emma's arm, and led her to the door.
+There she stopped, and spoke. "I have already told you that the girl is
+ill," she said to her husband. "And I now tell you again that she must
+have the sea air. For God's sake, don't let us quarrel! I have enough to
+try me without that." She closed the door on herself and her daughter,
+and left her lord and master standing face to face with the wreck of his
+own outraged authority.
+
+What further progress was made by the domestic revolt, when the bedroom
+candles were lit, and the hour of retirement had arrived with the night,
+is naturally involved in mystery. This alone is certain: On the next
+morning, the luggage was packed, and the cab was called to the door.
+Mrs. Ronald spoke her parting words to her husband in private.
+
+"I hope I have not expressed myself too strongly about taking Emma to
+the seaside," she said, in gentle pleading tones. "I am anxious about
+our girl's health. If I have offended you--without meaning it, God
+knows!--say you forgive me before I go. I have tried honestly, dear, to
+be a good wife to you. And you have always trusted me, haven't you? And
+you trust me still?"
+
+She took his lean cold hand, and pressed it fervently: her eyes rested
+on him with a strange mixture of timidity and anxiety. Still in the
+prime of her life, she preserved the personal attractions--the fair calm
+refined face, the natural grace of look and movement--which had made
+her marriage to a man old enough to be her father a cause of angry
+astonishment among all her friends. In the agitation that now possessed
+her, her colour rose, her eyes brightened; she looked for the moment
+almost young enough to be Emma's sister. Her husband opened his hard old
+eyes in surly bewilderment. "Why need you make this fuss?" he asked. "I
+don't understand you." Mrs. Ronald shrank at those words as if he had
+struck her. She kissed him in silence, and joined her daughter in the
+cab.
+
+For the rest of that day, the persons in the stationer's employment had
+a hard time of it with their master in the shop. Something had upset Old
+Ronald. He ordered the shutters to be put up earlier that evening than
+usual. Instead of going to his club (at the tavern round the corner),
+he took a long walk in the lonely and lifeless streets of the City by
+night. There was no disguising it from himself; his wife's behaviour at
+parting had made him uneasy. He naturally swore at her for taking that
+liberty, while he lay awake alone in his bed. "Damn the woman! What
+does she mean?" The cry of the soul utters itself in various forms of
+expression. That was the cry of Old Ronald's soul, literally translated.
+
+III
+
+The next morning brought him a letter from Ramsgate.
+
+"I write immediately to tell you of our safe arrival. We have found
+comfortable lodgings (as the address at the head of this letter will
+inform you) in Albion Place. I thank you, and Emma desires to thank you
+also, for your kindness in providing us with ample means for taking our
+little trip. It is beautiful weather today; the sea is calm, and the
+pleasure-boats are out. We do not of course expect to see you here.
+But if you do, by any chance, overcome your objection to moving out
+of London, I have a little request to make. Please let me hear of your
+visit beforehand--so that I may not omit all needful preparations. I
+know you dislike being troubled with letters (except on business), so
+I will not write too frequently. Be so good as to take no news for good
+news, in the intervals. When you have a few minutes to spare, you will
+write, I hope, and tell me how you and the shop are going on. Emma sends
+you her love, in which I beg to join." So the letter was expressed, and
+so it ended.
+
+"They needn't be afraid of my troubling them. Calm seas and
+pleasure-boats! Stuff and nonsense!" Such was the first impression which
+his wife's report of herself produced on Old Ronald's mind. After
+a while, he looked at the letter again--and frowned, and reflected.
+"Please let me hear of your visit beforehand," he repeated to himself,
+as if the request had been, in some incomprehensible way, offensive to
+him. He opened the drawer of his desk, and threw the letter into it.
+When business was over for the day, he went to his club at the tavern,
+and made himself unusually disagreeable to everybody.
+
+A week passed. In the interval he wrote briefly to his wife. "I'm all
+right, and the shop goes on as usual." He also forwarded one or two
+letters which came for Mrs. Ronald. No more news reached him from
+Ramsgate. "I suppose they're enjoying themselves," he reflected. "The
+house looks queer without them; I'll go to the club."
+
+He stayed later than usual, and drank more than usual, that night. It
+was nearly one in the morning when he let himself in with his latch-key,
+and went upstairs to bed.
+
+Approaching the toilette-table, he found a letter lying on it, addressed
+to "Mr. Ronald--private." It was not in his wife's handwriting; not in
+any handwriting known to him. The characters sloped the wrong way, and
+the envelope bore no postmark. He eyed it over and over suspiciously. At
+last he opened it, and read these lines:
+
+"You are advised by a true friend to lose no time in looking after your
+wife. There are strange doings at the seaside. If you don't believe me,
+ask Mrs. Turner, Number 1, Slains Row, Ramsgate."
+
+No address, no date, no signature--an anonymous letter, the first he had
+ever received in the long course of his life.
+
+His hard brain was in no way affected by the liquor that he had drunk.
+He sat down on his bed, mechanically folding and refolding the letter.
+The reference to "Mrs. Turner" produced no impression on him of any
+sort: no person of that name, common as it was, happened to be numbered
+on the list of his friends or his customers. But for one circumstance,
+he would have thrown the letter aside, in contempt. His memory reverted
+to his wife's incomprehensible behaviour at parting. Addressing him
+through that remembrance, the anonymous warning assumed a certain
+importance to his mind. He went down to his desk, in the back office,
+and took his wife's letter out of the drawer, and read it through
+slowly. "Ha!" he said, pausing as he came across the sentence which
+requested him to write beforehand, in the unlikely event of his deciding
+to go to Ramsgate. He thought again of the strangely persistent way in
+which his wife had dwelt on his trusting her; he recalled her nervous
+anxious looks, her deepening colour, her agitation at one moment, and
+then her sudden silence and sudden retreat to the cab. Fed by these
+irritating influences, the inbred suspicion in his nature began to take
+fire slowly. She might be innocent enough in asking him to give her
+notice before he joined her at the seaside--she might naturally be
+anxious to omit no needful preparation for his comfort. Still, he didn't
+like it; no, he didn't like it. An appearance as of a slow collapse
+passed little by little over his rugged wrinkled face. He looked many
+years older than his age, as he sat at the desk, with the flaring
+candlelight close in front of him, thinking. The anonymous letter lay
+before him, side by side with his wife's letter. On a sudden, he lifted
+his gray head, and clenched his fist, and struck the venomous written
+warning as if it had been a living thing that could feel. "Whoever you
+are," he said, "I'll take your advice."
+
+He never even made the attempt to go to bed that night. His pipe helped
+him through the comfortless and dreary hours. Once or twice he thought
+of his daughter. Why had her mother been so anxious about her? Why had
+her mother taken her to Ramsgate? Perhaps, as a blind--ah, yes, perhaps
+as a blind! More for the sake of something to do than for any other
+reason, he packed a handbag with a few necessaries. As soon as the
+servant was stirring, he ordered her to make him a cup of strong coffee.
+After that, it was time to show himself as usual, on the opening of the
+shop. To his astonishment, he found his clerk taking down the shutters,
+in place of the porter.
+
+"What does this mean?" he asked. "Where is Farnaby?"
+
+The clerk looked at his master, and paused aghast with a shutter in his
+hands.
+
+"Good Lord! what has come to you?" he cried. "Are you ill?"
+
+Old Ronald angrily repeated his question: "Where is Farnaby?"
+
+"I don't know," was the answer.
+
+"You don't know? Have you been up to his bedroom?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Well, he isn't in his bedroom. And, what's more, his bed hasn't been
+slept in last night. Farnaby's off, sir--nobody knows where."
+
+Old Ronald dropped heavily into the nearest chair. This second mystery,
+following on the mystery of the anonymous letter, staggered him. But
+his business instincts were still in good working order. He held out his
+keys to the clerk. "Get the petty cash-book," he said, "and see if the
+money is all right."
+
+The clerk received the keys under protest. _"That's_ not the right
+reading of the riddle," he remarked.
+
+"Do as I tell you!"
+
+The clerk opened the money-drawer under the counter; counted the pounds,
+shillings and pence paid by chance customers up to the closing of
+the shop on the previous evening; compared the result with the petty
+cash-book, and answered, "Right to a halfpenny."
+
+Satisfied so far, old Ronald condescended to approach the speculative
+side of the subject, with the assistance of his subordinate. "If what
+you said just now means anything," he resumed, "it means that you
+suspect the reason why Farnaby has left my service. Let's hear it."
+
+"You know that I never liked John Farnaby," the clerk began. "An active
+young fellow and a clever young fellow, I grant you. But a bad servant
+for all that. False, Mr. Ronald--false to the marrow of his bones."
+
+Mr. Ronald's patience began to give way. "Come to the facts," he
+growled. "Why has Farnaby gone off without a word to anybody? Do you
+know that?"
+
+"I know no more than you do," the clerk answered coolly. "Don't fly into
+a passion. I have got some facts for you, if you will only give me time.
+Turn them over in your own mind, and see what they come to. Three days
+ago I was short of postage-stamps, and I went to the office. Farnaby was
+there, waiting at the desk where they pay the post-office orders. There
+must have been ten or a dozen people with letters, orders, and what
+not, between him and me. I got behind him quietly, and looked over his
+shoulder. I saw the clerk give him the money for his post-office order.
+Five pounds in gold, which I reckoned as they lay on the counter, and
+a bank-note besides, which he crumpled up in his hand. I can't tell you
+how much it was for; I only know it _was_ a bank-note. Just ask yourself
+how a porter on twenty shillings a week (with a mother who takes in
+washing, and a father who takes in drink) comes to have a correspondent
+who sends him an order for five sovereigns--and a bank-note, value
+unknown. Say he's turned betting-man in secret. Very good. There's the
+post-office order, in that case, to show that he's got a run of luck. If
+he has got a run of luck, tell me this--why does he leave his place like
+a thief in the night? He's not a slave; he's not even an apprentice.
+When he thinks he can better himself, he has no earthly need to keep it
+a secret that he means to leave your service. He may have met with an
+accident, to be sure. But that's not _my_ belief. I say he's up to some
+mischief And now comes the question: What are we to do?"
+
+Mr. Ronald, listening with his head down, and without interposing a
+word on his own part, made an extraordinary answer. "Leave it," he said.
+"Leave it till tomorrow."
+
+"Why?" the clerk answered, without ceremony.
+
+Mr. Ronald made another extraordinary answer. "Because I am obliged to
+go out of town for the day. Look after the business. The ironmonger's
+man over the way will help you to put up the shutters at night. If
+anybody inquires for me, say I shall be back tomorrow." With those
+parting directions, heedless of the effect that he had produced on the
+clerk, he looked at his watch, and left the shop.
+
+
+IV
+
+The bell which gave five minutes' notice of the starting of the Ramsgate
+train had just rung.
+
+While the other travellers were hastening to the platform, two persons
+stood passively apart as if they had not even yet decided on taking
+their places in the train. One of the two was a smart young man in a
+cheap travelling suit; mainly noticeable by his florid complexion, his
+restless dark eyes, and his profusely curling black hair. The other was
+a middle-aged woman in frowsy garments; tall and stout, sly and sullen.
+The smart young man stood behind the uncongenial-looking person with
+whom he had associated himself, using her as a screen to hide him while
+he watched the travellers on their way to the train. As the bell rang,
+the woman suddenly faced her companion, and pointed to the railway
+clock.
+
+"Are you waiting to make up your mind till the train has gone?" she
+asked.
+
+The young man frowned impatiently. "I am waiting for a person whom I
+expect to see," he answered. "If the person travels by this train, we
+shall travel by it. If not, we shall come back here, and look out for
+the next train, and so on till night-time, if it's necessary."
+
+The woman fixed her small scowling gray eyes on the man as he replied
+in those terms. "Look here!" she broke out. "I like to see my way before
+me. You're a stranger, young Mister; and it's as likely as not you've
+given me a false name and address. That don't matter. False names are
+commoner than true ones, in my line of life. But mind this! I don't
+stir a step farther till I've got half the money in my hand, and my
+return-ticket there and back."
+
+"Hold your tongue!" the man suddenly interposed in a whisper. "It's all
+right. I'll get the tickets."
+
+He looked while he spoke at an elderly traveller, hastening by with
+his head down, deep in thought, noticing nobody. The traveller was
+Mr. Ronald. The young man, who had that moment recognized him, was his
+runaway porter, John Farnaby.
+
+Returning with the tickets, the porter took his repellent travelling
+companion by the arm, and hurried her along the platform to the train.
+"The money!" she whispered, as they took their places. Farnaby handed
+it to her, ready wrapped up in a morsel of paper. She opened the paper,
+satisfied herself that no trick had been played her, and leaned back in
+her corner to go to sleep. The train started. Old Ronald travelled by
+the second class; his porter and his porter's companion accompanied him
+secretly by the third.
+
+V
+
+It was still early in the afternoon when Mr. Ronald descended the narrow
+street which leads from the high land of the South-Eastern railway
+station to the port of Ramsgate. Asking his way of the first policeman
+whom he met, he turned to the left, and reached the cliff on which the
+houses in Albion Place are situated. Farnaby followed him at a discreet
+distance; and the woman followed Farnaby.
+
+Arrived in sight of the lodging-house, Mr. Ronald paused--partly to
+recover his breath, partly to compose himself. He was conscious of a
+change of feeling as he looked up at the windows: his errand suddenly
+assumed a contemptible aspect in his own eyes. He almost felt ashamed of
+himself. After twenty years of undisturbed married life, was it possible
+that he had doubted his wife--and that at the instigation of a stranger
+whose name even was unknown to him? "If she was to step out in the
+balcony, and see me down here," he thought, "what a fool I should look!"
+He felt half-inclined, at the moment when he lifted the knocker of the
+door, to put it back again quietly, and return to London. No! it was too
+late. The maid-servant was hanging up her birdcage in the area of the
+house; the maid-servant had seen him.
+
+"Does Mrs. Ronald lodge here?" he asked.
+
+The girl lifted her eyebrows and opened her mouth--stared at him in
+speechless confusion--and disappeared in the kitchen regions. This
+strange reception of his inquiry irritated him unreasonably. He knocked
+with the absurd violence of a man who vents his anger on the first
+convenient thing that he can find. The landlady opened the door, and
+looked at him in stern and silent surprise.
+
+"Does Mrs. Ronald lodge here?" he repeated.
+
+The landlady answered with some appearance of effort--the effort of a
+person who was carefully considering her words before she permitted them
+to pass her lips.
+
+"Mrs. Ronald has taken rooms here. But she has not occupied them yet."
+
+"Not occupied them yet?" The words bewildered him as if they had been
+spoken in an unknown tongue. He stood stupidly silent on the doorstep.
+His anger was gone; an all-mastering fear throbbed heavily at his heart.
+The landlady looked at him, and said to her secret self: "Just what I
+suspected; there _is_ something wrong!"
+
+"Perhaps I have not sufficiently explained myself, sir," she resumed
+with grave politeness. "Mrs. Ronald told me that she was staying at
+Ramsgate with friends. She would move into my house, she said, when her
+friends left--but they had not quite settled the day yet. She calls here
+for letters. Indeed, she was here early this morning, to pay the second
+week's rent. I asked when she thought of moving in. She didn't seem to
+know; her friends (as I understood) had not made up their minds. I must
+say I thought it a little odd. Would you like to leave any message?"
+
+He recovered himself sufficiently to speak. "Can you tell me where her
+friends live?" he said.
+
+The landlady shook her head. "No, indeed. I offered to save Mrs. Ronald
+the trouble of calling here, by sending letters or cards to her present
+residence. She declined the offer--and she has never mentioned the
+address. Would you like to come in and rest, sir? I will see that your
+card is taken care of, if you wish to leave it."
+
+"Thank you, ma'am--it doesn't matter--good morning."
+
+The landlady looked after him as he descended the house-steps. "It's the
+husband, Peggy," she said to the servant, waiting inquisitively behind
+her. "Poor old gentleman! And such a respectable-looking woman, too!"
+
+Mr. Ronald walked mechanically to the end of the row of houses, and met
+the wide grand view of sea and sky. There were some seats behind the
+railing which fenced the edge of the cliff. He sat down, perfectly
+stupefied and helpless, on the nearest bench.
+
+At the close of life, the loss of a man's customary nourishment extends
+its debilitating influence rapidly from his body to his mind. Mr. Ronald
+had tasted nothing but his cup of coffee since the previous night.
+His mind began to wander strangely; he was not angry or frightened
+or distressed. Instead of thinking of what had just happened, he was
+thinking of his young days when he had been a cricket-player. One
+special game revived in his memory, at which he had been struck on the
+head by the ball. "Just the same feeling," he reflected vacantly, with
+his hat off, and his hand on his forehead. "Dazed and giddy--just the
+same feeling!"
+
+He leaned back on the bench, and fixed his eyes on the sea, and wondered
+languidly what had come to him. Farnaby and the woman, still following,
+waited round the corner where they could just keep him in view.
+
+The blue lustre of the sky was without a cloud; the sunny sea leapt
+under the fresh westerly breeze. From the beach, the cries of children
+at play, the shouts of donkey-boys driving their poor beasts, the
+distant notes of brass instruments playing a waltz, and the mellow music
+of the small waves breaking on the sand, rose joyously together on the
+fragrant air. On the next bench, a dirty old boatman was prosing to a
+stupid old visitor. Mr. Ronald listened, with a sense of vacant content
+in the mere act of listening. The boatman's words found their way to his
+ears like the other sounds that were abroad in the air. "Yes; them's
+the Goodwin Sands, where you see the lightship. And that steamer there,
+towing a vessel into the harbour, that's the Ramsgate Tug. Do you know
+what I should like to see? I should like to see the Ramsgate Tug blow
+up. Why? I'll tell you why. I belong to Broadstairs; I don't belong to
+Ramsgate. Very well. I'm idling here, as you may see, without one copper
+piece in my pocket to rub against another. What trade do I belong to?
+I don't belong to no trade; I belong to a boat. The boat's rotting at
+Broadstairs, for want of work. And all along of what? All along of the
+Tug. The Tug has took the bread out of our mouths: me and my mates. Wait
+a bit; I'll show you how. What did a ship do, in the good old times,
+when she got on them sands--Goodwin Sands? Went to pieces, if it come on
+to blow; or got sucked down little by little when it was fair weather.
+Now I'm coming to it. What did We do (in the good old times, mind you)
+when we happened to see that ship in distress? Out with our boat; blow
+high or blow low, out with our boat. And saved the lives of the crew,
+did you say? Well, yes; saving the crew was part of the day's work, to
+be sure; the part we didn't get paid for. We saved _the cargo,_ Master!
+and got salvage!! Hundreds of pounds, I tell you, divided amongst us by
+law!!! Ah, those times are gone. A parcel of sneaks get together, and
+subscribe to build a Steam-Tug. When a ship gets on the sands now, out
+goes the Tug, night and day alike, and brings her safe into harbour,
+and takes the bread out of our mouths. Shameful--that's what I call
+it--shameful."
+
+The last words of the boatman's lament fell lower, lower, lower on Mr.
+Ronald's ears--he lost them altogether--he lost the view of the sea--he
+lost the sense of the wind blowing over him. Suddenly, he was roused as
+if from a deep sleep. On one side, the man from Broadstairs was shaking
+him by the collar. "I say, Master, cheer up; what's come to you?" On the
+other side, a compassionate lady was offering her smelling-bottle. "I am
+afraid, sir, you have fainted." He struggled to his feet, and vacantly
+thanked the lady. The man from Broadstairs--with an eye to salvage--took
+charge of the human wreck, and towed him to the nearest public-house. "A
+chop and a glass of brandy-and-water," said this good Samaritan of the
+nineteenth century. "That's what you want. I'm peckish myself, and I'll
+keep you company."
+
+He was perfectly passive in the hands of any one who would take charge
+of him; he submitted as if he had been the boatman's dog, and had heard
+the whistle.
+
+It could only be truly said that he had come to himself, when there had
+been time enough for him to feel the reanimating influence of the food
+and drink. Then he got to his feet, and looked with incredulous wonder
+at the companion of his meal. The man from Broadstairs opened his greasy
+lips, and was silenced by the sudden appearance of a gold coin between
+Mr. Ronald's finger and thumb. "Don't speak to me; pay the bill, and
+bring me the change outside." When the boatman joined him, he was
+reading a letter; walking to and fro, and speaking at intervals to
+himself. "God help me, have I lost my senses? I don't know what to do
+next." He referred to the letter again: "if you don't believe me, ask
+Mrs. Turner, Number 1, Slains Row, Ramsgate." He put the letter back in
+his pocket, and rallied suddenly. "Slains Row," he said, turning to the
+boatman. "Take me there directly, and keep the change for yourself."
+
+The boatman's gratitude was (apparently) beyond expression in words. He
+slapped his pocket cheerfully, and that was all. Leading the way inland,
+he went downhill, and uphill again--then turned aside towards the
+eastern extremity of the town.
+
+Farnaby, still following, with the woman behind him, stopped when the
+boatman diverged towards the east, and looked up at the name of the
+street. "I've got my instructions," he said; "I know where he's going.
+Step out! We'll get there before him, by another way."
+
+Mr. Ronald and his guide reached a row of poor little houses, with poor
+little gardens in front of them and behind them. The back windows looked
+out on downs and fields lying on either side of the road to Broadstairs.
+It was a lost and lonely spot. The guide stopped, and put a question
+with inquisitive respect. "What number, sir?" Mr. Ronald had
+sufficiently recovered himself to keep his own counsel. "That will do,"
+he said. "You can leave me." The boatman waited a moment. Mr. Ronald
+looked at him. The boatman was slow to understand that his leadership
+had gone from him. "You're sure you don't want me any more?" he
+said. "Quite sure," Mr. Ronald answered. The man from Broadstairs
+retired--with his salvage to comfort him.
+
+Number 1 was at the farther extremity of the row of houses. When Mr.
+Ronald rang the bell, the spies were already posted. The woman loitered
+on the road, within view of the door. Farnaby was out of sight, round
+the corner, watching the house over the low wooden palings of the back
+garden.
+
+A lazy-looking man, in his shirt sleeves, opened the door. "Mrs. Turner
+at home?" he repeated. "Well, she's at home; but she's too busy to see
+anybody. What's your pleasure?" Mr. Ronald declined to accept excuses
+or to answer questions. "I must see Mrs. Turner directly," he said, "on
+important business." His tone and manner had their effect on the lazy
+man. "What name?" he asked. Mr. Ronald declined to mention his name.
+"Give my message," he said. "I won't detain Mrs. Turner more than a
+minute." The man hesitated--and opened the door of the front parlour. An
+old woman was fast asleep on a ragged little sofa. The man gave up the
+front parlour, and tried the back parlour next. It was empty. "Please to
+wait here," he said--and went away to deliver his message.
+
+The parlour was a miserably furnished room. Through the open window, the
+patch of back garden was barely visible under fluttering rows of linen
+hanging out on lines to dry. A pack of dirty cards, and some plain
+needlework, littered the bare little table. A cheap American clock
+ticked with stern and steady activity on the mantelpiece. The smell of
+onions was in the air. A torn newspaper, with stains of beer on it,
+lay on the floor. There was some sinister influence in the place which
+affected Mr. Ronald painfully. He felt himself trembling, and sat down
+on one of the rickety chairs. The minutes followed one another wearily.
+He heard a trampling of feet in the room above--then a door opened and
+closed--then the rustle of a woman's dress on the stairs. In a
+moment more, the handle of the parlour door was turned. He rose, in
+anticipation of Mrs. Turner's appearance. The door opened. He found
+himself face to face with his wife.
+
+VI
+
+John Farnaby, posted at the garden paling, suddenly lifted his head and
+looked towards the open window of the back parlour. He reflected for a
+moment--and then joined his female companion on the road in front of the
+house.
+
+"I want you at the back garden," he said. "Come along!"
+
+"How much longer am I to be kept kicking my heels in this wretched
+hole?" the woman asked sulkily.
+
+"As much longer as I please--if you want to go back to London with the
+other half of the money." He showed it to her as he spoke. She followed
+him without another word.
+
+Arrived at the paling, Farnaby pointed to the window, and to the back
+garden door, which was left ajar. "Speak softly," he whispered. "Do you
+hear voices in the house?"
+
+"I don't hear what they're talking about, if that's what you mean."
+
+"I don't hear, either. Now mind what I tell you--I have reasons of
+my own for getting a little nearer to that window. Sit down under the
+paling, so that you can't be seen from the house. If you hear a row, you
+may take it for granted that I am found out. In that case, go back to
+London by the next train, and meet me at the terminus at two o'clock
+tomorrow afternoon. If nothing happens, wait where you are till you hear
+from me or see me again."
+
+He laid his hand on the low paling, and vaulted over it. The linen
+hanging up in the garden to dry offered him a means of concealment
+(if any one happened to look out of the window) of which he skilfully
+availed himself. The dust-bin was at the side of the house, situated
+at a right angle to the parlour window. He was safe behind the bin,
+provided no one appeared on the path which connected the patch of garden
+at the back with the patch in front. Here, running the risk, he waited
+and listened.
+
+The first voice that reached his ears was the voice of Mrs. Ronald. She
+was speaking with a firmness of tone that astonished him.
+
+"Hear me to the end, Benjamin," she said. "I have a right to ask as much
+as that of my husband, and I do ask it. If I had been bent on nothing
+but saving the reputation of our miserable girl, you would have a right
+to blame me for keeping you ignorant of the calamity that has fallen on
+us--"
+
+There the voice of her husband interposed sternly. "Calamity! Say
+disgrace, everlasting disgrace."
+
+Mrs. Ronald did not notice the interruption. Sadly and patiently she
+went on.
+
+"But I had a harder trial still to face," she said. "I had to save her,
+in spite of herself, from the wretch who has brought this infamy on us.
+He has acted throughout in cold blood; it is his interest to marry her,
+and from first to last he has plotted to force the marriage on us. For
+God's sake, don't speak loud! She is in the room above us; if she hears
+you it will be the death of her. Don't suppose I am talking at random;
+I have looked at his letters to her; I have got the confession of the
+servant-girl. Such a confession! Emma is his victim, body and soul. I
+know it! I know that she sent him money (_my_ money) from this place. I
+know that the servant (at _her_ instigation) informed him by telegraph
+of the birth of the child. Oh, Benjamin, don't curse the poor helpless
+infant--such a sweet little girl! don't think of it! I don't think of
+it! Show me the letter that brought you here; I want to see the letter.
+Ah, I can tell you who wrote it! _He_ wrote it. In his own interests;
+always with his own interests in view. Don't you see it for yourself? If
+I succeed in keeping this shame and misery a secret from everybody--if
+I take Emma away, to some place abroad, on pretence of her health--there
+is an end of his hope of becoming your son-in-law; there is an end of
+his being taken into the business. Yes! he, the low-lived vagabond
+who puts up the shop-shutters, _he_ looks forward to being taken into
+partnership, and succeeding you when you die! Isn't his object in
+writing that letter as plain to you now as the heaven above us? His one
+chance is to set your temper in a flame, to provoke the scandal of a
+discovery--and to force the marriage on us as the only remedy left. Am
+I wrong in making any sacrifice, rather than bind our girl for life, our
+own flesh and blood, to such a man as that? Surely you can feel for me,
+and forgive me, now. How could I own the truth to you, before I left
+London, knowing you as I do? How could I expect you to be patient, to go
+into hiding, to pass under a false name--to do all the degrading things
+that must be done, if we are to keep Emma out of this man's way? No! I
+know no more than you do where Farnaby is to be found. Hush! there is
+the door-bell. It's the doctor's time for his visit. I tell you again I
+don't know--on my sacred word of honour, I don't know where Farnaby is.
+Oh, be quiet! be quiet! there's the doctor going upstairs! don't let the
+doctor hear you!"
+
+So far, she had succeeded in composing her husband. But the fury which
+she had innocently roused in him, in her eagerness to justify herself,
+now broke beyond all control. "You lie!" he cried furiously. "If you
+know everything else about it, you know where Farnaby is. I'll be the
+death of him, if I swing for it on the gallows! Where is he? Where is
+he?"
+
+A shriek from the upper room silenced him before Mrs. Ronald could
+speak again. His daughter had heard him; his daughter had recognized his
+voice.
+
+A cry of terror from her mother echoed the cry from above; the sound of
+the opening and closing of the door followed instantly. Then there was
+a momentary silence. Then Mrs. Ronald's voice was heard from the upper
+room calling to the nurse, asleep in the front parlour. The nurse's
+gruff tones were just audible, answering from the parlour door. There
+was another interval of silence; broken by another voice--a stranger's
+voice--speaking at the open window, close by.
+
+"Follow me upstairs, sir, directly," the voice said in peremptory tones.
+"As your daughter's medical attendant, I tell you in the plainest terms
+that you have seriously frightened her. In her critical condition, I
+decline to answer for her life, unless you make the attempt at least to
+undo the mischief you have done. Whether you mean it or not, soothe her
+with kind words; say you have forgiven her. No! I have nothing to do
+with your domestic troubles; I have only my patient to think of. I don't
+care what she asks of you, you must give way to her now. If she falls
+into convulsions, she will die--and her death will be at your door."
+
+So, with feebler and feebler interruptions from Mr. Ronald, the doctor
+spoke. It ended plainly in his being obeyed. The departing footsteps of
+the men were the next sounds to be heard. After that, there was a pause
+of silence--a long pause, broken by Mrs. Ronald, calling again from the
+upper regions. "Take the child into the back parlour, nurse, and wait
+till I come to you. It's cooler there, at this time of the day."
+
+The wailing of an infant, and the gruff complaining of the nurse, were
+the next sounds that reached Farnaby in his hiding place. The nurse was
+grumbling to herself over the grievance of having been awakened from her
+sleep. "After being up all night, a person wants rest. There's no rest
+for anybody in this house. My head's as heavy as lead, and every bone in
+me has got an ache in it."
+
+Before long, the renewed silence indicated that she had succeeded in
+hushing the child to sleep. Farnaby forgot the restraints of caution for
+the first time. His face flushed with excitement; he ventured nearer to
+the window, in his eagerness to find out what might happen next. After
+no long interval, the next sound came--a sound of heavy breathing, which
+told him that the drowsy nurse was falling asleep again. The window-sill
+was within reach of his hands. He waited until the heavy breathing
+deepened to snoring. Then he drew himself up by the window-sill, and
+looked into the room.
+
+The nurse was fast asleep in an armchair; and the child was fast asleep
+on her lap.
+
+He dropped softly to the ground again. Taking off his shoes, and putting
+them in his pockets, he ascended the two or three steps which led to the
+half-open back garden door. Arrived in the passage, he could just
+hear them talking upstairs. They were no doubt still absorbed in their
+troubles; he had only the servant to dread. The splashing of water in
+the kitchen informed him that she was safely occupied in washing. Slowly
+and softly he opened the back parlour door, and stole across the room to
+the nurse's chair.
+
+One of her hands still rested on the child. The serious risk was the
+risk of waking her, if he lost his presence of mind and hurried it!
+
+He glanced at the American clock on the mantelpiece. The result relieved
+him; it was not so late as he had feared. He knelt down, to steady
+himself, as nearly as possible on a level with the nurse's knees. By a
+hair's breadth at a time, he got both hands under the child. By a hair's
+breadth at a time, he drew the child away from her; leaving her hand
+resting on her lap by degrees so gradual that the lightest sleeper could
+not have felt the change. That done (barring accidents), all was done.
+Keeping the child resting easily on his left arm, he had his right
+hand free to shut the door again. Arrived at the garden steps, a slight
+change passed over the sleeping infant's face--the delicate little
+creature shivered as it felt the full flow of the open air. He softly
+laid over its face a corner of the woollen shawl in which it was
+wrapped. The child reposed as quietly on his arm as if it had still been
+on the nurse's lap.
+
+In a minute more he was at the paling. The woman rose to receive him,
+with the first smile that had crossed her face since they had left
+London.
+
+"So you've got the baby," she said, "Well, you _are_ a deep one!"
+
+"Take it," he answered irritably. "We haven't a moment to lose."
+
+Only stopping to put on his shoes, he led the way towards the more
+central part of the town. The first person he met directed him to the
+railway station. It was close by. In five minutes more the woman and the
+baby were safe in the train to London.
+
+"There's the other half of the money," he said, handing it to her
+through the carriage window.
+
+The woman eyed the child in her arms with a frowning expression of
+doubt. "All very well as long as it lasts," she said. "And what after
+that?"
+
+"Of course, I shall call and see you," he answered.
+
+She looked hard at him, and expressed the whole value she set on that
+assurance in four words. "Of course you will!"
+
+The train started for London. Farnaby watched it, as it left the
+platform, with a look of unfeigned relief. "There!" he thought to
+himself. "Emma's reputation is safe enough now! When we are married, we
+mustn't have a love-child in the way of our prospects in life."
+
+Leaving the station, he stopped at the refreshment room, and drank a
+glass of brandy-and-water. "Something to screw me up," he thought, "for
+what is to come." What was to come (after he had got rid of the child)
+had been carefully considered by him, on the journey to Ramsgate.
+"Emma's husband-that-is-to-be"--he had reasoned it out--"will naturally
+be the first person Emma wants to see, when the loss of the baby has
+upset the house. If Old Ronald has a grain of affection left in him, he
+must let her marry me after _that!"_
+
+Acting on this view of his position, he took the way that led back
+to Slains Row, and rang the door-bell as became a visitor who had no
+reasons for concealment now.
+
+The household was doubtless already disorganized by the discovery of
+the child's disappearance. Neither master nor servant was active in
+answering the bell. Farnaby submitted to be kept waiting with perfect
+composure. There are occasions on which a handsome man is bound to put
+his personal advantages to their best use. He took out his pocket-comb,
+and touched up the arrangement of his whiskers with a skilled and gentle
+hand. Approaching footsteps made themselves heard along the passage at
+last. Farnaby put back his comb, and buttoned his coat briskly. "Now for
+it!" he said, as the door was opened at last.
+
+
+
+
+THE STORY
+
+
+
+
+BOOK THE FIRST. AMELIUS AMONG THE SOCIALISTS
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 1
+
+Sixteen years after the date of Mr. Ronald's disastrous discovery at
+Ramsgate--that is to say, in the year 1872--the steamship _Aquila_ left
+the port of New York, bound for Liverpool.
+
+It was the month of September. The passenger-list of the _Aquila_ had
+comparatively few names inscribed on it. In the autumn season, the
+voyage from America to England, but for the remunerative value of
+the cargo, would prove to be for the most part a profitless voyage to
+shipowners. The flow of passengers, at that time of year, sets steadily
+the other way. Americans are returning from Europe to their own country.
+Tourists have delayed the voyage until the fierce August heat of the
+United States has subsided, and the delicious Indian summer is ready
+to welcome them. At bed and board the passengers by the _Aquila_ on
+her homeward voyage had plenty of room, and the choicest morsels for
+everybody alike on the well spread dinner-table.
+
+The wind was favourable, the weather was lovely. Cheerfulness and
+good-humour pervaded the ship from stem to stern. The courteous captain
+did the honours of the cabin-table with the air of a gentleman who was
+receiving friends in his own house. The handsome doctor promenaded the
+deck arm-in-arm with ladies in course of rapid recovery from the first
+gastric consequences of travelling by sea. The excellent chief engineer,
+musical in his leisure moments to his fingers' ends, played the fiddle
+in his cabin, accompanied on the flute by that young Apollo of the
+Atlantic trade, the steward's mate. Only on the third morning of the
+voyage was the harmony on board the _Aquila_ disturbed by a passing
+moment of discord--due to an unexpected addition to the ranks of the
+passengers, in the shape of a lost bird!
+
+It was merely a weary little land-bird (blown out of its course, as the
+learned in such matters supposed); and it perched on one of the yards to
+rest and recover itself after its long flight.
+
+The instant the creature was discovered, the insatiable Anglo-Saxon
+delight in killing birds, from the majestic eagle to the contemptible
+sparrow, displayed itself in its full frenzy. The crew ran about the
+decks, the passengers rushed into their cabins, eager to seize the first
+gun and to have the first shot. An old quarter-master of the _Aquila_
+was the enviable man, who first found the means of destruction ready to
+his hand. He lifted the gun to his shoulder, he had his finger on the
+trigger, when he was suddenly pounced upon by one of the passengers--a
+young, slim, sunburnt, active man--who snatched away the gun,
+discharged it over the side of the vessel, and turned furiously on the
+quarter-master. "You wretch! would you kill the poor weary bird that
+trusts our hospitality, and only asks us to give it a rest? That little
+harmless thing is as much one of God's creatures as you are. I'm ashamed
+of you--I'm horrified at you--you've got bird-murder in your face; I
+hate the sight of you!"
+
+The quarter-master--a large grave fat man, slow alike in his bodily and
+his mental movements--listened to this extraordinary remonstrance with
+a fixed stare of amazement, and an open mouth from which the unspat
+tobacco-juice tricked in little brown streams. When the impetuous young
+gentleman paused (not for want of words, merely for want of breath),
+the quarter-master turned about, and addressed himself to the audience
+gathered round. "Gentlemen," he said, with a Roman brevity, "this young
+fellow is mad."
+
+The captain's voice checked the general outbreak of laughter. "That will
+do, quarter-master. Let it be understood that nobody is to shoot the
+bird--and let me suggest to _you,_ sir, that you might have expressed
+your sentiments quite as effectually in less violent language."
+
+Addressed in those terms, the impetuous young man burst into another fit
+of excitement. "You're quite right, sir! I deserve every word you
+have said to me; I feel I have disgraced myself." He ran after the
+quartermaster, and seized him by both hands. "I beg your pardon; I beg
+your pardon with all my heart. You would have served me right if you
+had thrown me overboard after the language I used to you. Pray excuse
+my quick temper; pray forgive me. What do you say? 'Let bygones _be_
+bygones'? That's a capital way of putting it. You're a thorough good
+fellow. If I can ever be of the smallest use to you (there's my card and
+address in London), let me know it; I entreat you let me know it." He
+returned in a violent hurry to the captain. "I've made it up with the
+quarter-master, sir. He forgives me; he bears no malice. Allow me to
+congratulate you on having such a good Christian in your ship. I wish
+I was like him! Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, for the disturbance I
+have made. It shan't happen again--I promise you that."
+
+The male travellers in general looked at each other, and seemed to agree
+with the quarter-master's opinion of their fellow-passenger. The women,
+touched by his evident sincerity, and charmed with his handsome blushing
+eager face, agreed that he was quite right to save the poor bird,
+and that it would be all the better for the weaker part of creation
+generally if other men were more like him. While the various opinions
+were still in course of expression, the sound of the luncheon bell
+cleared the deck of the passengers, with two exceptions. One was the
+impetuous young man. The other was a middle-aged traveller, with a
+grizzled beard and a penetrating eye, who had silently observed the
+proceedings, and who now took the opportunity of introducing himself to
+the hero of the moment.
+
+"Are you not going to take any luncheon?" he asked.
+
+"No, sir. Among the people I have lived with we don't eat at intervals
+of three or four hours, all day long."
+
+"Will you excuse me," pursued the other, "if I own I should like to
+know _what_ people you have been living with? My name is Hethcote; I
+was associated, at one time of my life, with a college devoted to the
+training of young men. From what I have seen and heard this morning, I
+fancy you have not been educated on any of the recognized systems that
+are popular at the present day. Am I right?"
+
+The excitable young man suddenly became the picture of resignation, and
+answered in a formula of words as if he was repeating a lesson.
+
+"I am Claude-Amelius-Goldenheart. Aged twenty-one. Son, and only child,
+of the late Claude Goldenheart, of Shedfield Heath, Buckinghamshire,
+England. I have been brought up by the Primitive Christian Socialists,
+at Tadmor Community, State of Illinois. I have inherited an income of
+five hundred a year. And I am now, with the approval of the Community,
+going to London to see life."
+
+Mr. Hethcote received this copious flow of information, in some doubt
+whether he had been made the victim of coarse raillery, or whether he
+had merely heard a quaint statement of facts.
+
+Claude-Amelius-Goldenheart saw that he had produced an unfavourable
+impression, and hastened to set himself right.
+
+"Excuse me, sir," he said, "I am not making game of you, as you seem to
+suppose. We are taught to be courteous to everybody, in our Community.
+The truth is, there seems to be something odd about me (I'm sure I don't
+know what), which makes people whom I meet on my travels curious to know
+who I am. If you'll please to remember, it's a long way from Illinois to
+New York, and curious strangers are not scarce on the journey. When one
+is obliged to keep on saying the same thing over and over again, a
+form saves a deal of trouble. I have made a form for myself--which is
+respectfully at the disposal of any person who does me the honour to
+wish for my acquaintance. Will that do, sir? Very well, then; shake
+hands, to show you're satisfied."
+
+Mr. Hethcote shook hands, more than satisfied. He found it impossible to
+resist the bright honest brown eyes, the simple winning cordial manner
+of the young fellow with the quaint formula and the strange name. "Come,
+Mr. Goldenheart," he said, leading the way to a seat on deck, "let us
+sit down comfortably, and have a talk."
+
+"Anything you like, sir--but don't call me Mr. Goldenheart."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Well, it sounds formal. And, besides, you're old enough to be my
+father; it's _my_ duty to call _you_ Mister--or Sir, as we say to
+our elders at Tadmor. I have left all my friends behind me at the
+Community--and I feel lonely out here on this big ocean, among
+strangers. Do me a kindness, sir. Call me by my Christian name; and give
+me a friendly slap on the back if you find we get along smoothly in the
+course of the day."
+
+"Which of your names shall it be?" Mr. Hethcote asked, humouring this
+odd lad. "Claude?"
+
+"No. Not Claude. The Primitive Christians said Claude was a finicking
+French name. Call me Amelius, and I shall begin to feel at home again.
+If you're in a hurry, cut it down to three letters (as they did at
+Tadmor), and call me Mel."
+
+"Very good," said Mr. Hethcote. "Now, my friend Amelius (or Mel), I
+am going to speak out plainly, as you do. The Primitive Christian
+Socialists must have great confidence in their system of education, to
+turn you adrift in the world without a companion to look after you."
+
+"You've hit it, sir," Amelius answered coolly. "They have unlimited
+confidence in their system of education. And I'm a proof of it."
+
+"You have relations in London, I suppose?" Mr. Hethcote proceeded.
+
+For the first time the face of Amelius showed a shadow of sadness on it.
+
+"I have relations," he said. "But I have promised never to claim their
+hospitality. 'They are hard and worldly; and they will make you hard
+and worldly, too.' That's what my father said to me on his deathbed."
+He took off his hat when he mentioned his father's death, and came to a
+sudden pause--with his head bent down, like a man absorbed in thought.
+In less than a minute he put on his hat again, and looked up with his
+bright winning smile. "We say a little prayer for the loved ones who
+are gone, when we speak of them," he explained. "But we don't say it out
+loud, for fear of seeming to parade our religious convictions. We hate
+cant in our Community."
+
+"I cordially agree with the Community, Amelius. But, my good fellow,
+have you really no friend to welcome you when you get to London?"
+
+Amelius answered the question mysteriously. "Wait a little!" he
+said--and took a letter from the breast-pocket of his coat. Mr.
+Hethcote, watching him, observed that he looked at the address with
+unfeigned pride and pleasure.
+
+"One of our brethren at the Community has given me this," he announced.
+"It's a letter of introduction, sir, to a remarkable man--a man who is
+an example to all the rest of us. He has risen, by dint of integrity and
+perseverance, from the position of a poor porter in a shop to be one of
+the most respected mercantile characters in the City of London."
+
+With this explanation, Amelius handed his letter to Mr. Hethcote. It was
+addressed as follows:--
+
+         To John Farnaby, Esquire,
+         Messrs. Ronald & Farnaby,
+         Stationers,
+         Aldersgate Street, London.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 2
+
+Mr. Hethcote looked at the address on the letter with an expression of
+surprise, which did not escape the notice of Amelius. "Do you know Mr.
+Farnaby?" he asked.
+
+"I have some acquaintance with him," was the answer, given with a
+certain appearance of constraint.
+
+Amelius went on eagerly with his questions. "What sort of man is he? Do
+you think he will be prejudiced against me, because I have been brought
+up in Tadmor?"
+
+"I must be a little better acquainted, Amelius, with you and Tadmor
+before I can answer your question. Suppose you tell me how you became
+one of the Socialists, to begin with?"
+
+"I was only a little boy, Mr. Hethcote, at that time."
+
+"Very good. Even little boys have memories. Is there any objection to
+your telling me what you can remember?"
+
+Amelius answered rather sadly, with his eyes bent on the deck. "I
+remember something happening which threw a gloom over us at home in
+England. I heard that my mother was concerned in it. When I grew older,
+I never presumed to ask my father what it was; and he never offered to
+tell me. I only know this: that he forgave her some wrong she had done
+him, and let her go on living at home--and that relations and friends
+all blamed him, and fell away from him, from that time. Not long
+afterwards, while I was at school, my mother died. I was sent for, to
+follow her funeral with my father. When we got back, and were alone
+together, he took me on his knee and kissed me. 'Which will you do,
+Amelius,' he said; 'stay in England with your uncle and aunt? or come
+with me all the way to America, and never go back to England again? Take
+time to think of it.' I wanted no time to think of it; I said, 'Go with
+you, papa.' He frightened me by bursting out crying; it was the first
+time I had ever seen him in tears. I can understand it now. He had been
+cut to the heart, and had borne it like a martyr; and his boy was his
+one friend left. Well, by the end of the week we were on board the ship;
+and there we met a benevolent gentleman, with a long gray beard, who
+bade my father welcome, and presented me with a cake. In my ignorance,
+I thought he was the captain. Nothing of the sort. He was the first
+Socialist I had ever seen; and it was he who had persuaded my father to
+leave England."
+
+Mr. Hethcote's opinions of Socialists began to show themselves (a little
+sourly) in Mr. Hethcote's smile. "And how did you get on with this
+benevolent gentleman?" he asked. "After converting your father, did he
+convert you--with the cake?"
+
+Amelius smiled. "Do him justice, sir; he didn't trust to the cake. He
+waited till we were in sight of the American land--and then he preached
+me a little sermon, on our arrival, entirely for my own use."
+
+"A sermon?" Mr. Hethcote repeated. "Very little religion in it, I
+suspect."
+
+"Very little indeed, sir," Amelius answered. "Only as much religion as
+there is in the New Testament. I was not quite old enough to understand
+him easily--so he wrote down his discourse on the fly-leaf of a
+story-book I had with me, and gave it to me to read when I was tired of
+the stories. Stories were scarce with me in those days; and, when I
+had exhausted my little stock, rather than read nothing I read my
+sermon--read it so often that I think I can remember every word of it
+now. 'My dear little boy, the Christian religion, as Christ taught it,
+has long ceased to be the religion of the Christian world. A selfish and
+cruel Pretence is set up in its place. Your own father is one example
+of the truth of this saying of mine. He has fulfilled the first and
+foremost duty of a true Christian--the duty of forgiving an injury. For
+this, he stands disgraced in the estimation of all his friends: they
+have renounced and abandoned him. He forgives them, and seeks peace and
+good company in the New World, among Christians like himself. You will
+not repent leaving home with him; you will be one of a loving family,
+and, when you are old enough, you will be free to decide for yourself
+what your future life shall be.' That was all I knew about the
+Socialists, when we reached Tadmor after our long journey."
+
+Mr. Hethcote's prejudices made their appearance again. "A barren sort of
+place," he said, "judging by the name."
+
+"Barren? What can you be thinking of? A prettier place I never saw, and
+never expect to see again. A clear winding river, running into a little
+blue lake. A broad hill-side, all laid out in flower-gardens, and
+shaded by splendid trees. On the top of the hill, the buildings of the
+Community, some of brick and some of wood, so covered with creepers and
+so encircled with verandahs that I can't tell you to this day what style
+of architecture they were built in. More trees behind the houses--and,
+on the other side of the hill, cornfields, nothing but cornfields
+rolling away and away in great yellow plains, till they reached the
+golden sky and the setting sun, and were seen no more. That was our
+first view of Tadmor, when the stage-coach dropped us at the town."
+
+Mr. Hethcote still held out. "And what about the people who live in this
+earthly Paradise?" he asked. "Male and female saints--eh?"
+
+"Oh dear no, sir! The very opposite of saints. They eat and drink like
+their neighbours. They never think of wearing dirty horsehair when they
+can get clean linen. And when they are tempted to misconduct themselves,
+they find a better way out of it than knotting a cord and thrashing
+their own backs. Saints! They all ran out together to bid us welcome
+like a lot of school-children; the first thing they did was to kiss us,
+and the next thing was to give us a mug of wine of their own making.
+Saints! Oh, Mr. Hethcote, what will you accuse us of being next? I
+declare your suspicions of the poor Socialists keep cropping up again as
+fast as I cut them down. May I make a guess, sir, without offending
+you? From one or two things I have noticed, I strongly suspect you're a
+British clergyman."
+
+Mr. Hethcote was conquered at last: he burst out laughing. "You have
+discovered me," he said, "travelling in a coloured cravat and a shooting
+jacket! I confess I should like to know how."
+
+"It's easily explained, sir. Visitors of all sorts are welcome at
+Tadmor. We have a large experience of them in the travelling season.
+They all come with their own private suspicion of us lurking about the
+corners of their eyes. They see everything we have to show them, and eat
+and drink at our table, and join in our amusements, and get as pleasant
+and friendly with us as can be. The time comes to say goodbye--and then
+we find them out. If a guest who has been laughing and enjoying himself
+all day, suddenly becomes serious when he takes his leave, and shows
+that little lurking devil of suspicion again about the corners of his
+eyes--it's ten chances to one that he's a clergyman. No offence, Mr.
+Hethcote! I acknowledge with pleasure that the corners of _your_ eyes
+are clear again. You're not a very clerical clergyman, sir, after all--I
+don't despair of converting you, yet!"
+
+"Go on with your story, Amelius. You're the queerest fellow I have met
+with, for many a long day past."
+
+"I'm a little doubtful about going on with my story, sir. I have told
+you how I got to Tadmor, and what it looks like, and what sort of people
+live in the place. If I am to get on beyond that, I must jump to the
+time when I was old enough to learn the Rules of the Community."
+
+"Well--and what then?"
+
+"Well, Mr. Hethcote, some of the Rules might offend you."
+
+"Try!"
+
+"All right, sir! don't blame me; _I'm_ not ashamed of the Rules. And
+now, if I am to speak, I must speak seriously on a serious subject; I
+must begin with our religious principles. We find our Christianity in
+the spirit of the New Testament--not in the letter. We have three good
+reasons for objecting to pin our faith on the words alone, in that book.
+First, because we are not sure that the English translation is always
+to be depended on as accurate and honest. Secondly, because we know that
+(since the invention of printing) there is not a copy of the book in
+existence which is free from errors of the press, and that (before the
+invention of printing) those errors, in manuscript copies, must as
+a matter of course have been far more serious and far more numerous.
+Thirdly, because there is plain internal evidence (to say nothing of
+discoveries actually made in the present day) of interpolations and
+corruptions, introduced into the manuscript copies as they succeeded
+each other in ancient times. These drawbacks are of no importance,
+however, in our estimation. We find, in the spirit of the book, the most
+simple and most perfect system of religion and morality that humanity
+has ever received--and with that we are content. To reverence God;
+and to love our neighbour as ourselves: if we had only those two
+commandments to guide us, we should have enough. The whole collection of
+Doctrines (as they are called) we reject at once, without even stopping
+to discuss them. We apply to them the test suggested by Christ himself:
+by their fruits ye shall know them. The fruits of Doctrines, in the past
+(to quote three instances only), have been the Spanish Inquisition, the
+Massacre of St. Bartholomew, and the Thirty Years' War--and the fruits,
+in the present, are dissension, bigotry, and opposition to useful
+reforms. Away with Doctrines! In the interests of Christianity, away
+with them! We are to love our enemies; we are to forgive injuries; we
+are to help the needy; we are to be pitiful and courteous, slow to judge
+others, and ashamed to exalt ourselves. That teaching doesn't lead to
+tortures, massacres, and wars; to envy, hatred, and malice--and for that
+reason it stands revealed to us as the teaching that we can trust. There
+is our religion, sir, as we find it in the Rules of the Community."
+
+"Very well, Amelius. I notice, in passing, that the Community is in one
+respect like the Pope--the Community is infallible. We won't dwell on
+that. You have stated your principles. As to the application of them
+next? Nobody has a right to be rich among you, of course?"
+
+"Put it the other way, Mr. Hethcote. All men have a right to be
+rich--provided they don't make other people poor, as a part of the
+process. We don't trouble ourselves much about money; that's the truth.
+We are farmers, carpenters, weavers, and printers; and what we earn (ask
+our neighbours if we don't earn it honestly) goes into the common fund.
+A man who comes to us with money puts it into the fund, and so makes
+things easy for the next man who comes with empty pockets. While they
+are with us, they all live in the same comfort, and have their equal
+share in the same profits--deducting the sum in reverse for sudden calls
+and bad times. If they leave us, the man who has brought money with
+him has his undisputed right to take it away again; and the man who has
+brought none bids us good-bye, all the richer for his equal share in the
+profits which he has personally earned. The only fuss at our place about
+money that I can remember was the fuss about my five hundred a year. I
+wanted to hand it over to the fund. It was my own, mind--inherited from
+my mother's property, on my coming of age. The Elders wouldn't hear of
+it: the Council wouldn't hear of it: the general vote of the Community
+wouldn't hear of it. 'We agreed with his father that he should decide
+for himself, when he grew to manhood'--that was how they put it. 'Let
+him go back to the Old World; and let him be free to choose, by the test
+of his own experience, what his future life shall be.' How do you think
+it will end, Mr. Hethcote? Shall I return to the Community? Or shall I
+stop in London?"
+
+Mr. Hethcote answered, without a moment's hesitation. "You will stop in
+London."
+
+"I'll bet you two to one, Sir, he goes back to the Community."
+
+In those words, a third voice (speaking in a strong New England accent)
+insinuated itself into the conversation from behind. Amelius and Mr.
+Hethcote, looking round, discovered a long, lean, grave stranger--with
+his face overshadowed by a huge felt hat. "Have you been listening to
+our conversation?" Mr. Hethcote asked haughtily.
+
+"I have been listening," answered the grave stranger, "with considerable
+interest. This young man, I find, opens a new chapter to me in the book
+of humanity. Do you accept my bet, Sir? My name is Rufus Dingwell; and
+my home is at Coolspring, Mass. You do _not_ bet? I express my regret,
+and have the pleasure of taking a seat alongside of you. What is your
+name, Sir? Hethcote? We have one of that name at Coolspring. He is much
+respected. Mr. Claude A. Goldenheart, you are no stranger to me--no,
+Sir. I procured your name from the steward, when the little difficulty
+occurred just now about the bird. Your name considerably surprised me."
+
+"Why?" Amelius asked.
+
+"Well, sir--not to say that your surname (being Goldenheart) reminds
+one unexpectedly of _The Pilgrim's Progress_--I happen to be already
+acquainted with you. By reputation."
+
+Amelius looked puzzled. "By reputation?" he said. "What does that mean?"
+
+"It means, sir, that you occupy a prominent position in a recent number
+of our popular journal, entitled _The Coolspring Democrat._ The late
+romantic incident which caused the withdrawal of Miss Mellicent from
+your Community has produced a species of social commotion at Coolspring.
+Among our ladies, the tone of sentiment, Sir, is universally favourable
+to you. When I left, I do assure you, you were a popular character among
+us. The name of Claude A. Goldenheart was, so to speak, in everybody's
+mouth."
+
+Amelius listened to this, with the colour suddenly deepening on his
+face, and with every appearance of heartfelt annoyance and regret.
+"There is no such thing as keeping a secret in America," he said,
+irritably. "Some spy must have got among us; none of _our_ people would
+have exposed the poor lady to public comment. How would you like it, Mr.
+Dingwell, if the newspaper published the private sorrows of your wife or
+your daughter?"
+
+Rufus Dingwell answered with the straightforward sincerity of feeling
+which is one of the indisputable virtues of his nation. "I had not
+thought of it in that light, sir," he said. "You have been good enough
+to credit me with a wife or a daughter. I do not possess either of those
+ladies; but your argument hits me, notwithstanding--hits me hard, I
+tell you." He looked at Mr. Hethcote, who sat silently and stiffly
+disapproving of all this familiarity, and applied himself in perfect
+innocence and good faith to making things pleasant in that quarter. "You
+are a stranger, Sir," said Rufus; "and you will doubtless wish to peruse
+the article which is the subject of conversation?" He took a newspaper
+slip from his pocket-book, and offered it to the astonished Englishman.
+"I shall be glad to hear your sentiments, sir, on the view propounded by
+our mutual friend, Claude A. Goldenheart."
+
+Before Mr. Hethcote could reply, Amelius interposed in his own headlong
+way. "Give it to me! I want to read it first!"
+
+He snatched at the newspaper slip. Rufus checked him with grave
+composure. "I am of a cool temperament myself, sir; but that don't
+prevent me from admiring heat in others. Short of boiling point--mind
+that!" With this hint, the wise New Englander permitted Amelius to take
+possession of the printed slip.
+
+Mr. Hethcote, finding an opportunity of saying a word at last, asserted
+himself a little haughtily. "I beg you will both of you understand that
+I decline to read anything which relates to another person's private
+affairs."
+
+Neither the one nor the other of his companions paid the slightest heed
+to this announcement. Amelius was reading the newspaper extract, and
+placid Rufus was watching him. In another moment, he crumpled up the
+slip, and threw it indignantly on the deck. "It's as full of lies as it
+can hold!" he burst out.
+
+"It's all over the United States, by this time," Rufus remarked. "And I
+don't doubt we shall find the English papers have copied it, when we
+get to Liverpool. If you will take my advice, sir, you will cultivate a
+sagacious insensibility to the comments of the press."
+
+"Do you think I care for myself?" Amelius asked indignantly. "It's the
+poor woman I am thinking of. What can I do to clear her character?"
+
+"Well, sir," suggested Rufus, "in your place, I should have a
+notification circulated through the ship, announcing a lecture on the
+subject (weather permitting) in the course of the afternoon. That's the
+way we should do it at Coolspring."
+
+Amelius listened without conviction. "It's certainly useless to make a
+secret of the matter now," he said; "but I don't see my way to making
+it more public still." He paused, and looked at Mr. Hethcote. "It so
+happens, sir," he resumed, "that this unfortunate affair is an example
+of some of the Rules of our Community, which I had not had time to
+speak of, when Mr. Dingwell here joined us. It will be a relief to me
+to contradict these abominable falsehoods to somebody; and I should like
+(if you don't mind) to hear what you think of my conduct, from your own
+point of view. It might prepare me," he added, smiling rather uneasily,
+"for what I may find in the English newspapers."
+
+With these words of introduction he told his sad story--jocosely
+described in the newspaper heading as "Miss Mellicent and Goldenheart
+among the Socialists at Tadmor."
+
+
+CHAPTER 3
+
+"Nearly six months since," said Amelius, "we had notice by letter of the
+arrival of an unmarried English lady, who wished to become a member of
+our Community. You will understand my motive in keeping her family name
+a secret: even the newspaper has grace enough only to mention her by
+her Christian name. I don't want to cheat you out of your interest; so
+I will own at once that Miss Mellicent was not beautiful, and not young.
+When she came to us, she was thirty-eight years old, and time and trial
+had set their marks on her face plainly enough for anybody to see.
+Notwithstanding this, we all thought her an interesting woman. It might
+have been the sweetness of her voice; or perhaps it was something in her
+expression that took our fancy. There! I can't explain it; I can only
+say there were young women and pretty women at Tadmor who failed to win
+us as Miss Mellicent did. Contradictory enough, isn't it?"
+
+Mr. Hethcote said he understood the contradiction. Rufus put an
+appropriate question: "Do you possess a photograph of this lady, sir?"
+
+"No," said Amelius; "I wish I did. Well, we received her, on her
+arrival, in the Common Room--called so because we all assemble there
+every evening, when the work of the day is done. Sometimes we have
+the reading of a poem or a novel; sometimes debates on the social and
+political questions of the time in England and America; sometimes music,
+or dancing, or cards, or billiards, to amuse us. When a new member
+arrives, we have the ceremonies of introduction. I was close by the
+Elder Brother (that's the name we give to the chief of the Community)
+when two of the women led Miss Mellicent in. He's a hearty old fellow,
+who lived the first part of his life on his own clearing in one of the
+Western forests. To this day, he can't talk long, without showing, in
+one way or another, that his old familiarity with the trees still keeps
+its place in his memory. He looked hard at Miss Mellicent, under his
+shaggy old white eyebrows; and I heard him whisper to himself, 'Ah, dear
+me! Another of The Fallen Leaves!' I knew what he meant. The people who
+have drawn blanks in the lottery of life--the people who have toiled
+hard after happiness, and have gathered nothing but disappointment and
+sorrow; the friendless and the lonely, the wounded and the lost--these
+are the people whom our good Elder Brother calls The Fallen Leaves.
+I like the saying myself; it's a tender way of speaking of our poor
+fellow-creatures who are down in the world."
+
+He paused for a moment, looking out thoughtfully over the vast void of
+sea and sky. A passing shadow of sadness clouded his bright young face.
+The two elder men looked at him in silence, feeling (in widely different
+ways) the same compassionate interest. What was the life that lay before
+him? And--God help him!--what would he do with it?
+
+"Where did I leave off?" he asked, rousing himself suddenly.
+
+"You left Miss Mellicent, sir, in the Common Room--the venerable citizen
+with the white eyebrows being suitably engaged in moralizing on her." In
+those terms the ever-ready Rufus set the story going again.
+
+"Quite right," Amelius resumed. "There she was, poor thing, a little
+thin timid creature, in a white dress, with a black scarf over her
+shoulders, trembling and wondering in a room full of strangers. The
+Elder Brother took her by the hand, and kissed her on the forehead, and
+bade her heartily welcome in the name of the Community. Then the women
+followed his example, and the men all shook hands with her. And then our
+chief put the three questions, which he is bound to address to all new
+arrivals when they join us: 'Do you come here of your own free will? Do
+you bring with you a written recommendation from one of our brethren,
+which satisfies us that we do no wrong to ourselves or to others in
+receiving you? Do you understand that you are not bound to us by
+vows, and that you are free to leave us again if the life here is not
+agreeable to you?' Matters being settled so far, the reading of the
+Rules, and the Penalties imposed for breaking them, came next. Some
+of the Rules you know already; others of smaller importance I needn't
+trouble you with. As for the Penalties, if you incur the lighter ones,
+you are subject to public rebuke, or to isolation for a time from the
+social life of the Community. If you incur the heavier ones, you are
+either sent out into the world again for a given period, to return
+or not as you please; or you are struck off the list of members, and
+expelled for good and all. Suppose these preliminaries agreed to by Miss
+Mellicent with silent submission, and let us go on to the close of the
+ceremony--the reading of the Rules which settle the questions of Love
+and Marriage."
+
+"Aha!" said Mr. Hethcote, "we are coming to the difficulties of the
+Community at last!"
+
+"Are we also coming to Miss Mellicent, sir?" Rufus inquired. "As a
+citizen of a free country in which I can love in one State, marry
+in another, and be divorced in a third, I am not interested in your
+Rules--I am interested in your Lady."
+
+"The two are inseparable in this case," Amelius answered gravely. "If I
+am to speak of Miss Mellicent, I must speak of the Rules; you will soon
+see why. Our Community becomes a despotism, gentlemen, in dealing with
+love and marriage. For example, it positively prohibits any member
+afflicted with hereditary disease from marrying at all; and it reserves
+to itself, in the case of every proposed marriage among us, the right of
+permitting or forbidding it, in council. We can't even fall in love with
+each other, without being bound, under penalties, to report it to the
+Elder Brother; who, in his turn, communicates it to the monthly council;
+who, in their turn, decide whether the courtship may go on or not.
+That's not the worst of it, even yet! In some cases--where we haven't
+the slightest intention of falling in love with each other--the
+governing body takes the initiative. 'You two will do well to marry; we
+see it, if you don't. Just think of it, will you?' You may laugh; some
+of our happiest marriages have been made in that way. Our governors in
+council act on an established principle: here it is in a nutshell. The
+results of experience in the matter of marriage, all over the world,
+show that a really wise choice of a husband or a wife is an exception
+to the rule; and that husbands and wives in general would be happier
+together if their marriages were managed for them by competent advisers
+on either side. Laws laid down on such lines as these, and others
+equally strict, which I have not mentioned yet, were not put in force,
+Mr. Hethcote, as you suppose, without serious difficulties--difficulties
+which threatened the very existence of the Community. But that was
+before my time. When I grew up, I found the husbands and wives about me
+content to acknowledge that the Rules fulfilled the purpose with which
+they had been made--the greatest happiness of the greatest number. It
+all looks very absurd, I dare say, from your point of view. But these
+queer regulations of ours answer the Christian test--by their fruits ye
+shall know them. Our married people don't live on separate sides of the
+house; our children are all healthy; wife-beating is unknown among us;
+and the practice in our divorce court wouldn't keep the most moderate
+lawyer on bread and cheese. Can you say as much for the success of
+the marriage laws in Europe? I leave you, gentlemen, to form your own
+opinions."
+
+Mr. Hethcote declined to express an opinion. Rufus declined to resign
+his interest in the lady. "And what did Miss Mellicent say to it?" he
+inquired.
+
+"She said something that startled us all," Amelius replied. "When
+the Elder Brother began to read the first words relating to love and
+marriage in the Book of Rules, she turned deadly pale; and rose up in
+her place with a sudden burst of courage or desperation--I don't know
+which. 'Must you read that to me?' she asked. 'I have nothing to do with
+love or marriage.' The Elder Brother laid aside his Book of Rules. 'If
+you are afflicted with an hereditary malady,' he said, 'the doctor from
+the town will examine you, and report to us.' She answered, 'I have no
+hereditary malady.' The Elder Brother took up his book again. 'In due
+course of time, my dear, the Council will decide for you whether you are
+to love and marry or not.' And he read the Rules. She sat down again,
+and hid her face in her hands, and never moved or spoke until he had
+done. The regular questions followed. Had she anything to say, in the
+way of objection? Nothing! In that case, would she sign the Rules? Yes!
+When the time came for supper, she excused herself, just like a child.
+'I feel very tired; may I go to bed?' The unmarried women in the same
+dormitory with her anticipated some romantic confession when she grew
+used to her new friends. They proved to be wrong. 'My life has been one
+long disappointment,' was all she said. 'You will do me a kindness if
+you will take me as I am, and not ask me to talk about myself.' There
+was nothing sulky or ungracious in the expression of her wish to keep
+her own secret. A kinder and sweeter woman--never thinking of herself,
+always considerate of others--never lived. An accidental discovery made
+me her chief friend, among the men: it turned out that her childhood had
+been passed, where my childhood had been passed, at Shedfield Heath,
+in Buckinghamshire. She was never weary of consulting my boyish
+recollections, and comparing them with her own. 'I love the place,' she
+used to say; 'the only happy time of my life was the time passed there.'
+On my sacred word of honour, this was the sort of talk that passed
+between us, for week after week. What other talk could pass between a
+man whose one and twentieth birthday was then near at hand, and a
+woman who was close on forty? What could I do, when the poor, broken,
+disappointed creature met me on the hill or by the river, and said, 'You
+are going out for a walk; may I come with you?' I never attempted to
+intrude myself into her confidence; I never even asked her why she had
+joined the Community. You see what is coming, don't you? _I_ never saw
+it. I didn't know what it meant, when some of the younger women, meeting
+us together, looked at me (not at her), and smiled maliciously. My
+stupid eyes were opened at last by the woman who slept in the next bed
+to her in the dormitory--a woman old enough to be my mother, who took
+care of me when I was a child at Tadmor. She stopped me one morning,
+on my way to fish in the river. 'Amelius,' she said, 'don't go to
+the fishing-house; Mellicent is waiting for you.' I stared at her in
+astonishment. She held up her finger at me: 'Take care, you foolish boy!
+You are drifting into a false position as fast as you can. Have you no
+suspicion of what is going on?' I looked all round me, in search of what
+was going on. Nothing out of the common was to be seen anywhere. 'What
+can you possibly mean?' I asked. 'You will only laugh at me, if I tell
+you,' she said. I promised not to laugh. She too looked all round her,
+as if she was afraid of somebody being near enough to hear us; and then
+she let out the secret. 'Amelius, ask for a holiday--and leave us for a
+while. Mellicent is in love with you.'"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 4
+
+Amelius looked at his companions, in some doubt whether they would
+preserve their gravity at this critical point in his story. They both
+showed him that his apprehensions were well founded. He was a little
+hurt, and he instantly revealed it. "I own to my shame that I burst out
+laughing myself," he said. "But you two gentlemen are older and wiser
+than I am. I didn't expect to find you just as ready to laugh at poor
+Miss Mellicent as I was."
+
+Mr. Hethcote declined to be reminded of his duties as a middle-aged
+gentleman in this backhanded manner. "Gently, Amelius! You can't expect
+to persuade us that a laughable thing is not a thing to be laughed at.
+A woman close on forty who falls in love with a young fellow of
+twenty-one--"
+
+"Is a laughable circumstance," Rufus interposed. "Whereas a man of forty
+who fancies a young woman of twenty-one is all in the order of Nature.
+The men have settled it so. But why the women are to give up so much
+sooner than the men is a question, sir, on which I have long wished to
+hear the sentiments of the women themselves."
+
+Mr. Hethcote dismissed the sentiments of the women with a wave of his
+hand. "Let us hear the rest of it, Amelius. Of course you went on to the
+fishing-house? And of course you found Miss Mellicent there?"
+
+"She came to the door to meet me, much as usual," Amelius resumed, "and
+suddenly checked herself in the act of shaking hands with me. I can only
+suppose she saw something in my face that startled her. How it happened,
+I can't say; but I felt my good spirits forsake me the moment I found
+myself in her presence. I doubt if she had ever seen me so serious
+before. 'Have I offended you?' she asked. Of course, I denied it; but
+I failed to satisfy her. She began to tremble. 'Has somebody said
+something against me? Are you weary of my company?' Those were the next
+questions. It was useless to say No. Some perverse distrust of me, or
+some despair of herself, overpowered her on a sudden. She sank down
+on the floor of the fishing-house, and began to cry--not a good hearty
+burst of tears; a silent, miserable, resigned sort of crying, as if she
+had lost all claim to be pitied, and all right to feel wounded or hurt.
+I was so distressed, that I thought of nothing but consoling her. I
+meant well, and I acted like a fool. A sensible man would have lifted
+her up, I suppose, and left her to herself. I lifted her up, and put my
+arm round her waist. She looked at me as I did it. For just a moment,
+I declare she became twenty years younger! She blushed as I have never
+seen a woman blush before or since--the colour flowed all over her neck
+as well as her face. Before I could say a word, she caught hold of my
+hand, and (of all the confusing things in the world!) kissed it. 'No!'
+she cried, 'don't despise me! don't laugh at me! Wait, and hear what
+my life has been, and then you will understand why a little kindness
+overpowers me.' She looked round the corner of the fishing-house
+suspiciously. 'I don't want anybody else to hear us,' she said, 'all the
+pride isn't beaten out of me yet. Come to the lake, and row me about in
+the boat.' I took her out in the boat. Nobody could hear us certainly;
+but she forgot, and I forgot, that anybody might see us, and that
+appearances on the lake might lead to false conclusions on shore."
+
+Mr. Hethcote and Rufus exchanged significant looks. They had not
+forgotten the Rules of the Community, when two of its members showed a
+preference for each other's society.
+
+Amelius proceeded. "Well, there we were on the lake. I paddled with the
+oars, and she opened her whole heart to me. Her troubles had begun, in
+a very common way, with her mother's death and her father's second
+marriage. She had a brother and a sister--the sister married a German
+merchant, settled in New York; the brother comfortably established as
+a sheep-farmer in Australia. So, you see, she was alone at home, at the
+mercy of the step-mother. I don't understand these cases myself, but
+people who do, tell me that there are generally faults on both sides. To
+make matters worse, they were a poor family; the one rich relative being
+a sister of the first wife, who disapproved of the widower marrying
+again, and never entered the house afterwards. Well, the step-mother had
+a sharp tongue, and Mellicent was the first person to feel the sting of
+it. She was reproached with being an encumbrance on her father, when
+she ought to be doing something for herself. There was no need to repeat
+those harsh words. The next day she answered an advertisement. Before
+the week was over, she was earning her bread as a daily governess."
+
+Here Rufus stopped the narrative, having an interesting question to put.
+"Might I inquire, sir, what her salary was?"
+
+"Thirty pounds a year," Amelius replied. "She was out teaching from nine
+o'clock to two--and then went home again."
+
+"There seems to be nothing to complain of in that, as salaries go," Mr.
+Hethcote remarked.
+
+"She made no complaint," Amelius rejoined. "She was satisfied with her
+salary; but she wasn't satisfied with her life. The meek little woman
+grew downright angry when she spoke of it. 'I had no reason to complain
+of my employers,' she said. 'I was civilly treated and punctually
+paid; but I never made friends of them. I tried to make friends of the
+children; and sometimes I thought I had succeeded--but, oh dear, when
+they were idle, and I was obliged to keep them to their lessons, I soon
+found how little hold I had on the love that I wanted them to give me.
+We see children in books who are perfect little angels; never envious
+or greedy or sulky or deceitful; always the same sweet, pious, tender,
+grateful, innocent creatures--and it has been my misfortune never to
+meet with them, go where I might! It is a hard world, Amelius, the
+world that I have lived in. I don't think there are such miserable lives
+anywhere as the lives led by the poor middle classes in England.
+From year's end to year's end, the one dreadful struggle to keep up
+appearances, and the heart-breaking monotony of an existence without
+change. We lived in the back street of a cheap suburb. I declare to
+you we had but one amusement in the whole long weary year--the annual
+concert the clergyman got up, in aid of his schools. The rest of the
+year it was all teaching for the first half of the day, and needlework
+for the young family for the other half. My father had religious
+scruples; he prohibited theatres, he prohibited dancing and light
+reading; he even prohibited looking in at the shop-windows, because we
+had no money to spare and they tempted us to buy. He went to business in
+the morning, and came back at night, and fell asleep after dinner,
+and woke up and read prayers--and next day to business and back, and
+sleeping and waking and reading prayers--and no break in it, week after
+week, month after month, except on Sunday, which was always the same
+Sunday; the same church, the same service, the same dinner, the same
+book of sermons in the evening. Even when we had a fortnight once a year
+at the seaside, we always went to the same place and lodged in the same
+cheap house. The few friends we had led just the same lives, and were
+beaten down flat by just the same monotony. All the women seemed to
+submit to it contentedly except my miserable self. I wanted so little!
+Only a change now and then; only a little sympathy when I was weary
+and sick at heart; only somebody whom I could love and serve, and be
+rewarded with a smile and a kind word in return. Mothers shook their
+heads, and daughters laughed at me. Have we time to be sentimental?
+Haven't we enough to do, darning and mending, and turning our dresses,
+and making the joint last as long as possible, and keeping the children
+clean, and doing the washing at home--and tea and sugar rising, and my
+husband grumbling every week when I have to ask him for the house-money.
+Oh, no more of it! no more of it! People meant for better things all
+ground down to the same sordid and selfish level--is that a pleasant
+sight to contemplate? I shudder when I think of the last twenty years of
+my life!' That's what she complained of, Mr. Hethcote, in the solitary
+middle of the lake, with nobody but me to hear her."
+
+"In my country, sir," Rufus remarked, "the Lecture Bureau would have
+provided for her amusement, on economical terms. And I reckon, if a
+married life would fix her, she might have tried it among Us by way of a
+change."
+
+"That's the saddest part of the story," said Amelius. "There came a
+time, only two years ago, when her prospects changed for the better. Her
+rich aunt (her mother's sister) died; and--what do you think?--left her
+a legacy of six thousand pounds. There was a gleam of sunshine in her
+life! The poor teacher was an heiress in a small way, with her fortune
+at her own disposal. They had something like a festival at home, for the
+first time; presents to everybody, and kissings and congratulations,
+and new dresses at last. And, more than that, another wonderful event
+happened before long. A gentleman made his appearance in the family
+circle, with an interesting object in view--a gentleman, who had called
+at the house in which she happened to be employed as teacher at the
+time, and had seen her occupied with her pupils. He had kept it
+to himself to be sure, but he had secretly admired her from that
+moment--and now it had come out! She had never had a lover before; mind
+that. And he was a remarkably handsome man: dressed beautifully, and
+sang and played, and was so humble and devoted with it all. Do you think
+it wonderful that she said Yes, when he proposed to marry her? I don't
+think it wonderful at all. For the first few weeks of the courtship,
+the sunshine was brighter than ever. Then the clouds began to rise.
+Anonymous letters came, describing the handsome gentleman (seen under
+his fair surface) as nothing less than a scoundrel. She tore up the
+letters indignantly--she was too delicate even to show them to him.
+Signed letters came next, addressed to her father by an uncle and
+an aunt, both containing one and the same warning: 'If your daughter
+insists on having him, tell her to take care of her money.' A few days
+later, a visitor arrived--a brother, who spoke out more plainly still.
+As an honourable man, he could not hear of what was going on, without
+making the painful confession that his brother was forbidden to enter
+his house. That said, he washed his hands of all further responsibility.
+You two know the world, you will guess how it ended. Quarrels in the
+household; the poor middle-aged woman, living in her fool's paradise,
+blindly true to her lover; convinced that he was foully wronged; frantic
+when he declared that he would not connect himself with a family which
+suspected him. Ah, I have no patience when I think of it, and I almost
+wish I had never begun to tell the story! Do you know what he did? She
+was free of course, at her age, to decide for herself; there was no
+controlling her. The wedding day was fixed. Her father had declared he
+would not sanction it; and her step-mother kept him to his word.
+She went alone to the church, to meet her promised husband. He never
+appeared; he deserted her, mercilessly deserted her--after she had
+sacrificed her own relations to him--on her wedding-day. She was taken
+home insensible, and had a brain fever. The doctors declined to answer
+for her life. Her father thought it time to look to her banker's
+pass-book. Out of her six thousand pounds she had privately given no
+less than four thousand to the scoundrel who had deceived and forsaken
+her! Not a month afterwards he married a young girl--with a fortune of
+course. We read of such things in newspapers and books. But to have them
+brought home to one, after living one's own life among honest people--I
+tell you it stupefied me!"
+
+He said no more. Below them in the cabin, voices were laughing and
+talking, to a cheerful accompaniment of clattering knives and forks.
+Around them spread the exultant glory of sea and sky. All that they
+heard, all that they saw, was cruelty out of harmony with the miserable
+story which had just reached its end. With one accord the three men rose
+and paced the deck, feeling physically the same need of some movement to
+lighten their spirits. With one accord they waited a little, before the
+narrative was resumed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 5
+
+Mr. Hethcote was the first to speak again.
+
+"I can understand the poor creature's motive in joining your Community,"
+he said. "To a person of any sensibility her position, among such
+relatives as you describe, must have been simply unendurable after what
+had happened. How did she hear of Tadmor and the Socialists?"
+
+"She had read one of our books," Amelius answered; "and she had her
+married sister at New York to go to. There were moments, after her
+recovery (she confessed it to me frankly), when the thought of suicide
+was in her mind. Her religious scruples saved her. She was kindly
+received by her sister and her sister's husband. They proposed to keep
+her with them to teach their children. No! the new life offered to her
+was too like the old life--she was broken in body and mind; she had
+no courage to face it. We have a resident agent in New York; and he
+arranged for her journey to Tadmor. There is a gleam of brightness, at
+any rate, in this part of her story. She blessed the day, poor soul,
+when she joined us. Never before had she found herself among such
+kind-hearted, unselfish, simple people. Never before--" he abruptly
+checked himself, and looked a little confused.
+
+Obliging Rufus finished the sentence for him. "Never before had she
+known a young man with such natural gifts of fascination as C.A.G. Don't
+you be too modest, sir; it doesn't pay, I assure you, in the nineteenth
+century."
+
+Amelius was not as ready with his laugh as usual. "I wish I could drop
+it at the point we have reached now," he said. "But she has left Tadmor;
+and, in justice to her (after the scandals in the newspaper), I must
+tell you how she left it, and why. The mischief began when I was helping
+her out of the boat. Two of our young women met us on the bank of the
+lake, and asked me how I got on with my fishing. They didn't mean any
+harm--they were only in their customary good spirits. Still, there was
+no mistaking their looks and tones when they put the question. Miss
+Mellicent, in her confusion, made matters worse. She coloured up, and
+snatched her hand out of mine, and ran back to the house by herself.
+The girls, enjoying their own foolish joke, congratulated me on my
+prospects. I must have been out of sorts in some way--upset, perhaps,
+by what I had heard in the boat. Anyhow, I lost my temper, and _I_ made
+matters worse, next. I said some angry words, and left them. The same
+evening I found a letter in my room. 'For your sake, I must not be seen
+alone with you again. It is hard to lose the comfort of your sympathy,
+but I must submit. Think of me as kindly as I think of you. It has
+done me good to open my heart to you.' Only those lines, signed by
+Mellicent's initials. I was rash enough to keep the letter, instead of
+destroying it. All might have ended well, nevertheless, if she had only
+held to her resolution. But, unluckily, my twenty-first birthday was
+close at hand; and there was talk of keeping it as a festival in the
+Community. I was up with sunrise when the day came; having some farming
+work to look after, and wanting to get it over in good time. My shortest
+way back to breakfast was through a wood. In the wood I met her."
+
+"Alone?" Mr. Hethcote asked.
+
+Rufus expressed his opinion of the wisdom of putting this question with
+his customary plainness of language. "When there's a rash thing to be
+done by a man and a woman together, sir, philosophers have remarked that
+it's always the woman who leads the way. Of course she was alone."
+
+"She had a little present for me on my birthday," Amelius explained--"a
+purse of her own making. And she was afraid of the ridicule of the young
+women, if she gave it to me openly. 'You have my heart's dearest wishes
+for your happiness; think of me sometimes, Amelius, when you open your
+purse.' If you had been in my place, could you have told her to go away,
+when she said that, and put her gift into your hand? Not if she had been
+looking at you at the moment--I'll swear you couldn't have done it!"
+
+The lean yellow face of Rufus Dingwell relaxed for the first time into
+a broad grin. "There are further particulars, sir, stated in the
+newspaper," he said slily.
+
+"Damn the newspaper!" Amelius answered.
+
+Rufus bowed, serenely courteous, with the air of a man who accepted a
+British oath as an unwilling compliment paid by the old country to the
+American press. "The newspaper report states, sir, that she kissed you."
+
+"It's a lie!" Amelius shouted.
+
+"Perhaps it's an error of the press," Rufus persisted. "Perhaps, _you_
+kissed _her?"_
+
+"Never mind what I did," said Amelius savagely.
+
+Mr. Hethcote felt it necessary to interfere. He addressed Rufus in his
+most magnificent manner. "In England, Mr. Dingwell, a gentleman is not
+in the habit of disclosing these--er--these--er, er--"
+
+"These kissings in a wood?" suggested Rufus. "In my country, sir, we
+do not regard kissing, in or out of a wood, in the light of a shameful
+proceeding. Quite the contrary, I do assure you."
+
+Amelius recovered his temper. The discussion was becoming too ridiculous
+to be endured by the unfortunate person who was the object of it.
+
+"Don't let us make mountains out of molehills," he said. "I did kiss
+her--there! A woman pressing the prettiest little purse you ever saw
+into your hand, and wishing you many happy returns of the day with the
+tears in her eyes; I should like to know what else was to be done but
+to kiss her. Ah, yes, smooth out your newspaper report, and have another
+look at it! She _did_ rest her head on my shoulder, poor soul, and she
+_did_ say, 'Oh, Amelius, I thought my heart was turned to stone; feel
+how you have made it beat!' When I remembered what she had told me in
+the boat, I declare to God I almost burst out crying myself--it was so
+innocent and so pitiful."
+
+Rufus held out his hand with true American cordiality. "I do assure
+you, sir, I meant no harm," he said. "The right grit is in you, and no
+mistake--and there goes the newspaper!" He rolled up the slip, and flung
+it overboard.
+
+Mr. Hethcote nodded his entire approval of this proceeding. Amelius went
+on with his story.
+
+"I'm near the end now," he said. "If I had known it would have taken so
+long to tell--never mind! We got out of the wood at last, Mr. Rufus;
+and left it without a suspicion that we had been watched. I was prudent
+enough (when it was too late, you will say) to suggest to her that we
+had better be careful for the future. Instead of taking it seriously,
+she laughed. 'Have you altered your mind, since you wrote to me?' I
+asked. 'To be sure I have,' she said. 'When I wrote to you I forgot the
+difference between your age and mine. Nothing that _we_ do will be taken
+seriously. I am afraid of their laughing at me, Amelius; but I am afraid
+of nothing else.' I did my best to undeceive her. I told her plainly
+that people unequally matched in years--women older than men, as well as
+men older than women--were not uncommonly married among us. The council
+only looked to their being well suited in other ways, and declined to
+trouble itself about the question of age. I don't think I produced much
+effect; she seemed, for once in her life, poor thing, to be too happy to
+look beyond the passing moment. Besides, there was the birthday festival
+to keep her mind from dwelling on doubts and fears that were not
+agreeable to her. And the next day there was another event to occupy
+our attention--the arrival of the lawyer's letter from London, with the
+announcement of my inheritance on coming of age. It was settled, as you
+know, that I was to go out into the world, and to judge for myself; but
+the date of my departure was not fixed. Two days later, the storm that
+had been gathering for weeks past burst on us--we were cited to appear
+before the council to answer for an infraction of the Rules. Everything
+that I have confessed to you, and some things besides that I have kept
+to myself, lay formally inscribed on a sheet of paper placed on the
+council table--and pinned to the sheet of paper was Mellicent's letter
+to me, found in my room. I took the whole blame on myself, and insisted
+on being confronted with the unknown person who had informed against
+us. The council met this by a question:--'Is the information, in any
+particular, false?' Neither of us could deny that it was, in every
+particular, true. Hearing this, the council decided that there was no
+need, on our own showing, to confront us with the informer. From that
+day to this, I have never known who the spy was. Neither Mellicent nor
+I had an enemy in the Community. The girls who had seen us on the lake,
+and some other members who had met us together, only gave their evidence
+on compulsion--and even then they prevaricated, they were so fond of us
+and so sorry for us. After waiting a day, the governing body pronounced
+their judgment. Their duty was prescribed to them by the Rules. We were
+sentenced to six months' absence from the Community; to return or not
+as we pleased. A hard sentence, gentlemen--whatever _we_ may think of
+it--to homeless and friendless people, to the Fallen Leaves that had
+drifted to Tadmor. In my case it had been already arranged that I was
+to leave. After what had happened, my departure was made compulsory in
+four-and-twenty hours; and I was forbidden to return, until the date
+of my sentence had expired. In Mellicent's case they were still more
+strict. They would not trust her to travel by herself. A female member
+of the Community was appointed to accompany her to the house of her
+married sister at New York: she was ordered to be ready for the journey
+by sunrise the next morning. We both understood, of course, that the
+object of this was to prevent our travelling together. They might have
+saved themselves the trouble of putting obstacles in our way."
+
+"So far as You were concerned, I suppose?" said Mr. Hethcote.
+
+"So far as She was concerned also," Amelius answered.
+
+"How did she take it, sir?" Rufus inquired.
+
+"With a composure that astonished us all," said Amelius. "We had
+anticipated tears and entreaties for mercy. She stood up perfectly calm,
+far calmer than I was, with her head turned towards me, and her eyes
+resting quietly on my face. If you can imagine a woman whose whole being
+was absorbed in looking into the future; seeing what no mortal creature
+about her saw; sustained by hopes that no mortal creature about her
+could share--you may see her as I did, when she heard her sentence
+pronounced. The members of the Community, accustomed to take leave of an
+erring brother or sister with loving and merciful words, were all more
+or less distressed as they bade her farewell. Most of the women were in
+tears as they kissed her. They said the same kind words to her over and
+over again. 'We are heartily sorry for you, dear; we shall all be glad
+to welcome you back.' They sang our customary hymn at parting--and broke
+down before they got to the end. It was _she_ who consoled _them!_ Not
+once, through all that melancholy ceremony, did she lose her strange
+composure, her rapt mysterious look. I was the last to say farewell; and
+I own I couldn't trust myself to speak. She held my hand in hers. For
+a moment, her face lighted up softly with a radiant smile--then the
+strange preoccupied expression flowed over her again, like shadow over a
+light. Her eyes, still looking into mine, seemed to look beyond me. She
+spoke low, in sad steady tones. 'Be comforted, Amelius; the end is not
+yet.' She put her hands on my head, and drew it down to her. 'You will
+come back to me,' she whispered--and kissed me on the forehead, before
+them all. When I looked up again, she was gone. I have neither seen her
+nor heard from her since. It's all told, gentlemen--and some of it has
+distressed me in the telling. Let me go away for a minute by myself, and
+look at the sea."
+
+
+
+
+
+BOOK THE SECOND. AMELIUS IN LONDON
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 1
+
+Oh, Rufus Dingwell, it is such a rainy day! And the London street which
+I look out on from my hotel window presents such a dirty and such a
+miserable view! Do you know, I hardly feel like the same Amelius who
+promised to write to you when you left the steamer at Queenstown. My
+spirits are sinking; I begin to feel old. Am I in the right state of
+mind to tell you what are my first impressions of London? Perhaps I may
+alter my opinion. At present (this is between ourselves), I don't like
+London or London people--excepting two ladies, who, in very different
+ways, have interested and charmed me.
+
+Who are the ladies? I must tell you what I heard about them from Mr.
+Hethcote, before I present them to you on my own responsibility.
+
+After you left us, I found the last day of the voyage to Liverpool dull
+enough. Mr. Hethcote did not seem to feel it in the same way: on the
+contrary, he grew more familiar and confidential in his talk with me. He
+has some of the English stiffness, you see, and your American pace was
+a little too fast for him. On our last night on board, we had some more
+conversation about the Farnabys. You were not interested enough in the
+subject to attend to what he said about them while you were with us; but
+if you are to be introduced to the ladies, you must be interested now.
+Let me first inform you that Mr. and Mrs. Farnaby have no children; and
+let me add that they have adopted the daughter and orphan child of Mrs.
+Farnaby's sister. This sister, it seems, died many years ago, surviving
+her husband for a few months only. To complete the story of the past,
+death has also taken old Mr. Ronald, the founder of the stationer's
+business, and his wife, Mrs. Farnaby's mother. Dry facts these--I don't
+deny it; but there is something more interesting to follow. I have next
+to tell you how Mr. Hethcote first became acquainted with Mrs. Farnaby.
+Now, Rufus, we are coming to something romantic at last!
+
+It is some time since Mr. Hethcote ceased to perform his clerical
+duties, owing to a malady in the throat, which made it painful for him
+to take his place in the reading-desk or the pulpit. His last curacy
+attached him to a church at the West-end of London; and here, one Sunday
+evening, after he had preached the sermon, a lady in trouble came to him
+in the vestry for spiritual advice and consolation. She was a regular
+attendant at the church, and something which he had said in that
+evening's sermon had deeply affected her. Mr. Hethcote spoke with her
+afterwards on many occasions at home. He felt a sincere interest in her,
+but he disliked her husband; and, when he gave up his curacy, he ceased
+to pay visits to the house. As to what Mrs. Farnaby's troubles were, I
+can tell you nothing. Mr. Hethcote spoke very gravely and sadly when he
+told me that the subject of his conversations with her must be kept a
+secret. "I doubt whether you and Mr. Farnaby will get on well together,"
+he said to me; "but I shall be astonished if you are not favourably
+impressed by his wife and her niece."
+
+This was all I knew when I presented my letter of introduction to Mr.
+Farnaby at his place of business.
+
+It was a grand stone building, with great plate-glass windows--all
+renewed and improved, they told me, since old Mr. Ronald's time. My
+letter and my card went into an office at the back, and I followed them
+after a while. A lean, hard, middle-aged man, buttoned up tight in a
+black frock-coat, received me, holding my written introduction open in
+his hand. He had a ruddy complexion not commonly seen in Londoners, so
+far as my experience goes. His iron-gray hair and whiskers (especially
+the whiskers) were in wonderfully fine order--as carefully oiled and
+combed as if he had just come out of a barber's shop. I had been in the
+morning to the Zoological Gardens; his eyes, when he lifted them from
+the letter to me, reminded me of the eyes of the eagles--glassy and
+cruel. I have a fault that I can't cure myself of. I like people, or
+dislike them, at first sight, without knowing, in either case, whether
+they deserve it or not. In the one moment when our eyes met, I felt the
+devil in me. In plain English, I hated Mr. Farnaby!
+
+"Good morning, sir," he began, in a loud, harsh, rasping voice. "The
+letter you bring me takes me by surprise."
+
+"I thought the writer was an old friend of yours," I said.
+
+"An old friend of mine," Mr. Farnaby answered, "whose errors I deplore.
+When he joined your Community, I looked upon him as a lost man. I am
+surprised at his writing to me."
+
+It is quite likely I was wrong, knowing nothing of the usages of society
+in England. I thought this reception of me downright rude. I had laid my
+hat on a chair; I took it up in my hand again, and delivered a parting
+shot at the brute with the oily whiskers.
+
+"If I had known what you now tell me," I said, "I should not have
+troubled you by presenting that letter. Good morning."
+
+This didn't in the least offend him. A curious smile broke out on his
+face; it widened his eyes, and it twitched up his mouth at one corner.
+He held out his hand to stop me. I waited, in case he felt bound to make
+an apology. He did nothing of the sort--he only made a remark.
+
+"You are young and hasty," he said. "I may lament my friend's
+extravagances, without failing on that account in what is due to an
+old friendship. You are probably not aware that we have no sympathy in
+England with Socialists."
+
+I hit him back again. "In that case, sir, a little Socialism in England
+would do you no harm. We consider it a part of our duty as Christians
+to feel sympathy with all men who are honest in their convictions--no
+matter how mistaken (in our opinion) the convictions may be." I rather
+thought I had him there; and I took up my hat again, to get off with the
+honours of victory while I had the chance.
+
+I am sincerely ashamed of myself, Rufus, in telling you all this.
+I ought to have given him back "the soft answer that turneth away
+wrath"--my conduct was a disgrace to my Community. What evil influence
+was at work in me? Was it the air of London? or was it a possession of
+the devil?
+
+He stopped me for the second time--not in the least disconcerted by what
+I had said to him. His inbred conviction of his own superiority to a
+young adventurer like me was really something magnificent to witness. He
+did me justice--the Philistine-Pharisee did me justice! Will you believe
+it? He made his remarks next on my good points, as if I had been a young
+bull at a prize cattle show.
+
+"Excuse me for noticing it," he said. "Your manners are perfectly
+gentlemanlike, and you speak English without any accent. And yet you
+have been brought up in America. What does it mean?"
+
+I grew worse and worse--I got downright sulky now.
+
+"I suppose it means," I answered, "that some of us, in America,
+cultivate ourselves as well as our land. We have our books and music,
+though you seem to think we only have our axes and spades. Englishmen
+don't claim a monopoly of good manners at Tadmor. We see no difference
+between an American gentleman and an English gentleman. And as for
+speaking English with an accent, the Americans accuse _us_ of doing
+that."
+
+He smiled again. "How very absurd!" he said, with a superb compassion
+for the benighted Americans. By this time, I suspect he began to feel
+that he had had enough of me. He got rid of me with an invitation.
+
+"I shall be glad to receive you at my private residence, and introduce
+you to my wife and her niece--our adopted daughter. There is the
+address. We have a few friends to dinner on Saturday next, at seven.
+Will you give us the pleasure of your company?"
+
+We are all aware that there is a distinction between civility and
+cordiality; but I myself never knew how wide that distinction might be,
+until Mr. Farnaby invited me to dinner. If I had not been curious (after
+what Mr. Hethcote had told me) to see Mrs. Farnaby and her niece,
+I should certainly have slipped out of the engagement. As it was, I
+promised to dine with Oily-Whiskers.
+
+He put his hand into mine at parting. It felt as moistly cold as a dead
+fish. After getting out again into the street, I turned into the first
+tavern I passed, and ordered a drink. Shall I tell you what else I did?
+I went into the lavatory, and washed Mr. Farnaby off my hand. (N.B.--If
+I had behaved in this way at Tadmor, I should have been punished with
+the lighter penalty--taking my meals by myself, and being forbidden to
+enter the Common Room for eight and forty hours.) I feel I am getting
+wickeder and wickeder in London--I have half a mind to join you in
+Ireland. What does Tom Moore say of his countrymen--he ought to know, I
+suppose? "For though they love women and golden store: Sir Knight, they
+love honour and virtue more!" They must have been all Socialists in Tom
+Moore's time. Just the place for me.
+
+
+I have been obliged to wait a little. A dense fog has descended on us
+by way of variety. With a stinking coal fire, with the gas lit and the
+curtains drawn at half-past eleven in the forenoon, I feel that I am in
+my own country again at last. Patience, my friend--patience! I am coming
+to the ladies.
+
+Entering Mr. Farnaby's private residence on the appointed day, I became
+acquainted with one more of the innumerable insincerities of modern
+English life. When a man asks you to dine with him at seven o'clock, in
+other countries, he means what he says. In England, he means half-past
+seven, and sometimes a quarter to eight. At seven o'clock I was the only
+person in Mr. Farnaby's drawing-room. At ten minutes past seven, Mr.
+Farnaby made his appearance. I had a good mind to take his place in the
+middle of the hearth-rug, and say, "Farnaby, I am glad to see you." But
+I looked at his whiskers; and _they_ said to me, as plainly as words
+could speak, "Better not!"
+
+In five minutes more, Mrs. Farnaby joined us.
+
+I wish I was a practised author--or, no, I would rather, for the moment,
+be a competent portrait-painter, and send you Mrs. Farnaby's likeness
+enclosed. How I am to describe her in words, I really don't know. My
+dear fellow, she almost frightened me. I never before saw such a woman;
+I never expect to see such a woman again. There was nothing in her
+figure, or in her way of moving, that produced this impression on
+me--she is little and fat, and walks with a firm, heavy step, like the
+step of a man. Her face is what I want to make you see as plainly as I
+saw it myself: it was her face that startled me.
+
+So far as I can pretend to judge, she must have been pretty, in a
+healthy way, when she was young. I declare I hardly know whether she is
+not pretty now. She certainly has no marks or wrinkles; her hair either
+has no gray in it, or is too light to show the gray. She has preserved
+her fair complexion; perhaps with art to assist it--I can't say. As for
+her lips--I am not speaking disrespectfully, I am only describing them
+truly, when I say that they invite kisses in spite of her. In two words,
+though she has been married (as I know from what one of the guests told
+me after dinner) for sixteen years, she would be still an irresistible
+little woman, but for the one startling drawback of her eyes. Don't
+mistake me. In themselves, they are large, well-opened blue eyes, and
+may at one time have been the chief attraction in her face. But now
+there is an expression of suffering in them--long, unsolaced suffering,
+as I believe--so despairing and so dreadful, that she really made my
+heart ache when I looked at her. I will swear to it, that woman lives in
+some secret hell of her own making, and longs for the release of death;
+and is so inveterately full of bodily life and strength, that she may
+carry her burden with her to the utmost verge of life. I am digging
+the pen into the paper, I feel this so strongly, and I am so wretchedly
+incompetent to express my feeling. Can you imagine a diseased mind,
+imprisoned in a healthy body? I don't care what doctors or books may
+say--it is that, and nothing else. Nothing else will solve the mystery
+of the smooth face, the fleshy figure, the firm step, the muscular grip
+of her hand when she gives it to you--and the soul in torment that looks
+at you all the while out of her eyes. It is useless to tell me that such
+a contradiction as this cannot exist. I have seen the woman; and she
+does exist.
+
+Oh yes! I can fancy you grinning over my letter--I can hear you saying
+to yourself, "Where did he pick up his experience, I wonder?" I have no
+experience--I only have something that serves me instead of it, and
+I don't know what. The Elder Brother, at Tadmor, used to say it was
+sympathy. But _he_ is a sentimentalist.
+
+Well, Mr. Farnaby presented me to his wife--and then walked away as if
+he was sick of us both, and looked out of the window.
+
+For some reason or other, Mrs. Farnaby seemed to be surprised, for the
+moment, by my personal appearance. Her husband had, very likely, not
+told her how young I was. She got over her momentary astonishment, and,
+signing to me to sit by her on the sofa, said the necessary words of
+welcome--evidently thinking something else all the time. The strange
+miserable eyes looked over my shoulder, instead of looking at me.
+
+"Mr. Farnaby tells me you have been living in America."
+
+The tone in which she spoke was curiously quiet and monotonous. I
+have heard such tones, in the Far West, from lonely settlers without a
+neighbouring soul to speak to. Has Mrs. Farnaby no neighbouring soul to
+speak to, except at dinner parties?
+
+"You are an Englishman, are you not?" she went on.
+
+I said Yes, and cast about in my mind for something to say to her. She
+saved me the trouble by making me the victim of a complete series of
+questions. This, as I afterwards discovered, was _her_ way of finding
+conversation for strangers. Have you ever met with absent-minded people
+to whom it is a relief to ask questions mechanically, without feeling
+the slightest interest in the answers?
+
+She began. "Where did you live in America?"
+
+"At Tadmor, in the State of Illinois."
+
+"What sort of place is Tadmor?"
+
+I described the place as well as I could, under the circumstances.
+
+"What made you go to Tadmor?"
+
+It was impossible to reply to this, without speaking of the Community.
+Feeling that the subject was not in the least likely to interest her,
+I spoke as briefly as I could. To my astonishment, I evidently began to
+interest her from that moment. The series of questions went on--but now
+she not only listened, she was eager for the answers.
+
+"Are there any women among you?"
+
+"Nearly as many women as men."
+
+Another change! Over the weary misery of her eyes there flashed a bright
+look of interest which completely transformed them. Her articulation
+even quickened when she put her next question.
+
+"Are any of the women friendless creatures, who came to you from
+England?"
+
+"Yes, some of them."
+
+I thought of Mellicent as I spoke. Was this new interest that I had so
+innocently aroused, an interest in Mellicent? Her next question only
+added to my perplexity. Her next question proved that my guess had
+completely failed to hit the mark.
+
+"Are there any _young_ women among them?"
+
+Mr. Farnaby, standing with his back to us thus far, suddenly turned and
+looked at her, when she inquired if there were "young" women among us.
+
+"Oh yes," I said. "Mere girls."
+
+She pressed so near to me that her knees touched mine. "How old?" she
+asked eagerly.
+
+Mr. Farnaby left the window, walked close up to the sofa, and
+deliberately interrupted us.
+
+"Nasty muggy weather, isn't it?" he said. "I suppose the climate of
+America--"
+
+Mrs. Farnaby deliberately interrupted her husband. "How old?" she
+repeated, in a louder tone.
+
+I was bound, of course, to answer the lady of the house. "Some girls
+from eighteen to twenty. And some younger."
+
+"How much younger?"
+
+"Oh, from sixteen to seventeen."
+
+She grew more and more excited; she positively laid her hand on my arm
+in her eagerness to secure my attention all to herself. "American girls
+or English?" she resumed, her fat, firm fingers closing on me with a
+tremulous grasp.
+
+"Shall you be in town in November?" said Mr. Farnaby, purposely
+interrupting us again. "If you would like to see the Lord Mayor's
+Show--"
+
+Mrs. Farnaby impatiently shook me by the arm. "American girls or
+English?" she reiterated, more obstinately than ever.
+
+Mr. Farnaby gave her one look. If he could have put her on the blazing
+fire and have burnt her up in an instant by an effort of will, I believe
+he would have made the effort. He saw that I was observing him, and
+turned quickly from his wife to me. His ruddy face was pale with
+suppressed rage. My early arrival had given Mrs. Farnaby an opportunity
+of speaking to me, which he had not anticipated in inviting me to
+dinner. "Come and see my pictures," he said.
+
+His wife still held me fast. Whether he liked it or not, I had again
+no choice but to answer her. "Some American girls, and some English," I
+said.
+
+Her eyes opened wider and wider in unutterable expectation. She suddenly
+advanced her face so close to mine, that I felt her hot breath on my
+cheeks as the next words burst their way through her lips.
+
+"Born in England?"
+
+"No. Born at Tadmor."
+
+She dropped my arm. The light died out of her eyes in an instant. In
+some inconceivable way, I had utterly destroyed some secret expectation
+that she had fixed on me. She actually left me on the sofa, and took a
+chair on the opposite side of the fireplace. Mr. Farnaby, turning paler
+and paler, stepped up to her as she changed her place. I rose to look at
+the pictures on the wall nearest to me. You remarked the extraordinary
+keenness of my sense of hearing, while we were fellow passengers on the
+steamship. When he stooped over her, and whispered in her ear, I heard
+him--though nearly the whole breadth of the room was between us. "You
+hell-cat!"--that was what Mr. Farnaby said to his wife.
+
+The clock on the mantelpiece struck the half-hour after seven. In quick
+succession, the guests at the dinner now entered the room.
+
+I was so staggered by the extraordinary scene of married life which
+I had just witnessed, that the guests produced only a very faint
+impression upon me. My mind was absorbed in trying to find the true
+meaning of what I had seen and heard. Was Mrs. Farnaby a little mad?
+I dismissed that idea as soon as it occurred to me; nothing that I had
+observed in her justified it. The truer conclusion appeared to be,
+that she was deeply interested in some absent (and possibly lost) young
+creature; whose age, judging by actions and tones which had sufficiently
+revealed that part of the secret to me, could not be more than sixteen
+or seventeen years. How long had she cherished the hope of seeing the
+girl, or hearing of her? It must have been, anyhow, a hope very deeply
+rooted, for she had been perfectly incapable of controlling herself
+when I had accidentally roused it. As for her husband, there could be
+no doubt that the subject was not merely distasteful to him, but so
+absolutely infuriating that he could not even keep his temper, in the
+presence of a third person invited to his house. Had he injured the girl
+in any way? Was he responsible for her disappearance? Did his wife know
+it, or only suspect it? Who _was_ the girl? What was the secret of Mrs.
+Farnaby's extraordinary interest in her--Mrs. Farnaby, whose marriage
+was childless; whose interest one would have thought should be naturally
+concentrated on her adopted daughter, her sister's orphan child? In
+conjectures such as these, I completely lost myself. Let me hear
+what your ingenuity can make of the puzzle; and let me return to Mr.
+Farnaby's dinner, waiting on Mr. Farnaby's table.
+
+The servant threw open the drawing-room door, and the most honoured
+guest present led Mrs. Farnaby to the dining-room. I roused myself
+to some observation of what was going on about me. No ladies had been
+invited; and the men were all of a certain age. I looked in vain for the
+charming niece. Was she not well enough to appear at the dinner-party? I
+ventured on putting the question to Mr. Farnaby.
+
+"You will find her at the tea-table, when we return to the drawing-room.
+Girls are out of place at dinner-parties." So he answered me--not very
+graciously.
+
+As I stepped out on the landing, I looked up; I don't know why, unless
+I was the unconscious object of magnetic attraction. Anyhow, I had
+my reward. A bright young face peeped over the balusters of the upper
+staircase, and modestly withdrew itself again in a violent hurry.
+Everybody but Mr. Farnaby and myself had disappeared in the dining-room.
+Was she having a peep at the young Socialist?
+
+
+Another interruption to my letter, caused by another change in the
+weather. The fog has vanished; the waiter is turning off the gas, and
+letting in the drab-coloured daylight. I ask him if it is still raining.
+He smiles, and rubs his hands, and says, "It looks like clearing up
+soon, sir." This man's head is gray; he has been all his life a waiter
+in London--and he can still see the cheerful side of things. What native
+strength of mind cast away on a vocation that is unworthy of it!
+
+Well--and now about the Farnaby dinner. I feel a tightness in the lower
+part of my waistcoat, Rufus, when I think of the dinner; there was
+such a quantity of it, and Mr. Farnaby was so tyrannically resolute in
+forcing his luxuries down the throats of his guests. His eye was on me,
+if I let my plate go away before it was empty--his eye said "I have paid
+for this magnificent dinner, and I mean to see you eat it." Our printed
+list of the dishes, as they succeeded each other, also informed us of
+the varieties of wine which it was imperatively necessary to drink with
+each dish. I got into difficulties early in the proceedings. The taste
+of sherry, for instance, is absolutely nauseous to me; and Rhine wine
+turns into vinegar ten minutes after it has passed my lips. I asked for
+the wine that I could drink, out of its turn. You should have seen Mr.
+Farnaby's face, when I violated the rules of his dinner-table! It was
+the one amusing incident of the feast--the one thing that alleviated the
+dreary and mysterious spectacle of Mrs. Farnaby. There she sat, with her
+mind hundreds of miles away from everything that was going on about
+her, entangling the two guests, on her right hand and on her left, in a
+network of vacant questions, just as she had entangled me. I discovered
+that one of these gentlemen was a barrister and the other a ship-owner,
+by the answers which Mrs. Farnaby absently extracted from them on the
+subject of their respective vocations in life. And while she questioned
+incessantly, she ate incessantly. Her vigorous body insisted on being
+fed. She would have emptied her wineglass (I suspect) as readily as
+she plied her knife and fork--but I discovered that a certain system
+of restraint was established in the matter of wine. At intervals, Mr.
+Farnaby just looked at the butler--and the butler and his bottle, on
+those occasions, deliberately passed her by. Not the slightest visible
+change was produced in her by the eating and drinking; she was equal to
+any demands that any dinner could make on her. There was no flush in her
+face, no change in her spirits, when she rose, in obedience to English
+custom, and retired to the drawing-room.
+
+Left together over their wine, the men began to talk politics.
+
+I listened at the outset, expecting to get some information. Our
+readings in modern history at Tadmor had informed us of the dominant
+political position of the middle classes in England, since the time of
+the first Reform Bill. Mr. Farnaby's guests represented the respectable
+mediocrity of social position, the professional and commercial average
+of the nation. They all talked glibly enough--I and an old gentleman who
+sat next to me being the only listeners. I had spent the morning lazily
+in the smoking-room of the hotel, reading the day's newspapers. And
+what did I hear now, when the politicians set in for their discussion? I
+heard the leading articles of the day's newspapers translated into bald
+chat, and coolly addressed by one man to another, as if they were his
+own individual views on public affairs! This absurd imposture positively
+went the round of the table, received and respected by everybody with a
+stolid solemnity of make-believe which it was downright shameful to
+see. Not a man present said, "I saw that today in the _Times_ or the
+_Telegraph."_ Not a man present had an opinion of his own; or, if he
+had an opinion, ventured to express it; or, if he knew nothing of the
+subject, was honest enough to say so. One enormous Sham, and everybody
+in a conspiracy to take it for the real thing: that is an accurate
+description of the state of political feeling among the representative
+men at Mr. Farnaby's dinner. I am not judging rashly by one example
+only; I have been taken to clubs and public festivals, only to hear over
+and over again what I heard in Mr. Farnaby's dining-room. Does it need
+any great foresight to see that such a state of things as this cannot
+last much longer, in a country which has not done with reforming itself
+yet? The time is coming, in England, when the people who _have_ opinions
+of their own will be heard, and when Parliament will be forced to open
+the door to them.
+
+This is a nice outbreak of republican freedom! What does my
+long-suffering friend think of it--waiting all the time to be presented
+to Mr. Farnaby's niece? Everything in its place, Rufus. The niece
+followed the politics, at the time; and she shall follow them now.
+
+You shall hear first what my next neighbour said of her--a quaint old
+fellow, a retired doctor, if I remember correctly. He seemed to be as
+weary of the second-hand newspaper talk as I was; he quite sparkled
+and cheered up when I introduced the subject of Miss Regina. Have I
+mentioned her name yet? If not, here it is for you in full:--Miss Regina
+Mildmay.
+
+"I call her the brown girl," said the old gentleman. "Brown hair, brown
+eyes, and a brown skin. No, not a brunette; not dark enough for that--a
+warm, delicate brown; wait till you see it! Takes after her father, I
+should tell you. He was a fine-looking man in his time; foreign blood
+in his veins, by his mother's side. Miss Regina gets her queer name by
+being christened after his mother. Never mind her name; she's a charming
+person. Let's drink her health."
+
+We drank her health. Remembering that he had called her "the brown
+girl," I said I supposed she was still quite young.
+
+"Better than young," the doctor answered; "in the prime of life. I call
+her a girl, by habit. Wait till you see her!"
+
+"Has she a good figure, sir?"
+
+"Ha! you're like the Turks, are you? A nice-looking woman doesn't
+content you--you must have her well-made too. We can accommodate you,
+sir; we are slim and tall, with a swing of our hips, and we walk like
+a goddess. Wait and see how her head is put on her shoulders--I say
+no more. Proud? Not she! A simple, unaffected, kind-hearted creature.
+Always the same; I never saw her out of temper in my life; I never
+heard her speak ill of anybody. The man who gets her will be a man to be
+envied, I can tell you!"
+
+"Is she engaged to be married?"
+
+"No. She has had plenty of offers; but she doesn't seem to care for
+anything of that sort--so far. Devotes herself to Mrs. Farnaby, and
+keeps up her school-friendships. A splendid creature, with the vital
+thermometer at temperate heart--a calm, meditative, equable person. Pass
+me the olives. Only think! the man who discovered olives is unknown;
+no statue of him erected in any part of the civilized earth. I know few
+more remarkable instances of human ingratitude."
+
+I risked a bold question--but not on the subject of olives. "Isn't Miss
+Regina's life rather a dull one in this house?"
+
+The doctor cautiously lowered his voice. "It would be dull enough to
+some women. Regina's early life has been a hard one. Her mother was Mr.
+Ronald's eldest daughter. The old brute never forgave her for marrying
+against his wishes. Mrs. Ronald did all she could, secretly, to help the
+young wife in disgrace. But old Ronald had sole command of the money,
+and kept it to himself. From Regina's earliest childhood there was
+always distress at home. Her father harassed by creditors, trying one
+scheme after another, and failing in all; her mother and herself, half
+starved--with their very bedclothes sometimes at the pawnbrokers. I
+attended them in their illnesses, and though they hid their wretchedness
+from everybody else (proud as Lucifer, both of them!), they couldn't
+hide it from me. Fancy the change to this house! I don't say that living
+here in clover is enough for such a person as Regina; I only say it
+has its influence. She is one of those young women, sir, who delight in
+sacrificing themselves to others--she is devoted, for instance, to Mrs.
+Farnaby. I only hope Mrs. Farnaby is worthy of it! Not that it
+matters to Regina. What she does, she does out of her own sweetness of
+disposition. She brightens this household, I can tell you! Farnaby did
+a wise thing, in his own domestic interests, when he adopted her as his
+daughter. She thinks she can never be grateful enough to him--the good
+creature!--though she has repaid him a hundredfold. He'll find that out,
+one of these days, when a husband takes her away. Don't suppose that
+I want to disparage our host--he's an old friend of mine; but he's a
+little too apt to take the good things that fall to his lot as if they
+were nothing but a just recognition of his own merits. I have told him
+that to his face, often enough to have a right to say it of him when he
+doesn't hear me. Do you smoke? I wish they would drop their politics,
+and take to tobacco. I say Farnaby! I want a cigar."
+
+This broad hint produced an adjournment to the smoking-room, the doctor
+leading the way. I began to wonder how much longer my introduction to
+Miss Regina was to be delayed. It was not to come until I had seen a new
+side of my host's character, and had found myself promoted to a place of
+my own in Mr. Farnaby's estimation.
+
+As we rose from table one of the guests spoke to me of a visit that he
+had recently paid to the part of Buckinghamshire which I come from. "I
+was shown a remarkably picturesque old house on the heath," he said.
+"They told me it had been inhabited for centuries by the family of the
+Goldenhearts. Are you in any way related to them?" I answered that I
+was very nearly related, having been born in the house--and there, as
+I suppose, the matter ended. Being the youngest man of the party, I
+waited, of course, until the rest of the gentlemen had passed out to the
+smoking-room. Mr. Farnaby and I were left together. To my astonishment,
+he put his arm cordially into mine, and led me out of the dining-room
+with the genial familiarity of an old friend!
+
+"I'll give you such a cigar," he said, "as you can't buy for money in
+all London. You have enjoyed yourself, I hope? Now we know what wine
+you like, you won't have to ask the butler for it next time. Drop in any
+day, and take pot-luck with us." He came to a standstill in the hall;
+his brassy rasping voice assumed a new tone--a sort of parody of
+respect. "Have you been to your family place," he asked, "since your
+return to England?"
+
+He had evidently heard the few words exchanged between his friend
+and myself. It seemed odd that he should take any interest in a place
+belonging to people who were strangers to him. However, his question was
+easily answered. I had only to inform him that my father had sold the
+house when he left England.
+
+"Oh dear, I'm sorry to hear that!" he said. "Those old family places
+ought to be kept up. The greatness of England, sir, strikes its roots in
+the old families of England. They may be rich, or they may be poor--that
+don't matter. An old family _is_ an old family; it's sad to see their
+hearths and homes sold to wealthy manufacturers who don't know who their
+own grandfathers were. Would you allow me to ask what is the family
+motto of the Goldenhearts?"
+
+Shall I own the truth? The bottles circulated freely at Mr. Farnaby's
+table--I began to wonder whether he was quite sober. I said I was sorry
+to disappoint him, but I really did not know what my family motto was.
+
+He was unaffectedly shocked. "I think I saw a ring on your finger," he
+said, as soon as he recovered himself. He lifted my left hand in his own
+cold-fishy paw. The one ring I wear is of plain gold; it belonged to my
+father and it has his initials inscribed on the signet.
+
+"Good gracious, you haven't got your coat-of-arms on your seal!" cried
+Mr. Farnaby. "My dear sir, I am old enough to be your father, and I must
+take the freedom of remonstrating with you. Your coat-of-arms and your
+motto are no doubt at the Heralds' Office--why don't you apply for them?
+Shall I go there for you? I will do it with pleasure. You shouldn't be
+careless about these things--you shouldn't indeed."
+
+I listened in speechless astonishment. Was he ironically expressing his
+contempt for old families? We got into the smoking-room at last; and my
+friend the doctor enlightened me privately in a corner. Every word Mr.
+Farnaby had said had been spoken in earnest. This man, who owes his rise
+from the lowest social position entirely to himself--who, judging by
+his own experience, has every reason to despise the poor pride of
+ancestry--actually feels a sincerely servile admiration for the accident
+of birth! "Oh, poor human nature!" as Somebody says. How cordially I
+agree with Somebody!
+
+We went up to the drawing-room; and I was introduced to "the brown girl"
+at last. What impression did she produce on me?
+
+Do you know, Rufus, there is some perverse reluctance in me to go on
+with this inordinately long letter just when I have arrived at the most
+interesting part of it. I can't account for my own state of mind; I only
+know that it is so. The difficulty of describing the young lady doesn't
+perplex me like the difficulty of describing Mrs. Farnaby. I can see her
+now, as vividly as if she was present in the room. I even remember (and
+this is astonishing in a man) the dress that she wore. And yet I shrink
+from writing about her, as if there was something wrong in it. Do me a
+kindness, good friend, and let me send off all these sheets of paper,
+the idle work of an idle morning, just as they are. When I write next,
+I promise to be ashamed of my own capricious state of mind, and to paint
+the portrait of Miss Regina at full length.
+
+In the mean while, don't run away with the idea that she has made a
+disagreeable impression upon me. Good heavens! it is far from that.
+You have had the old doctor's opinion of her. Very well. Multiply this
+opinion by ten--and you have mine.
+
+
+[NOTE:--A strange indorsement appears on this letter, dated several
+months after the period at which it was received:--_"Ah, poor Amelius!
+He had better have gone back to Miss Mellicent, and put up with the
+little drawback of her age. What a bright, lovable fellow he was!
+Goodbye to Goldenheart!"_
+
+These lines are not signed. They are known, however, to be in the
+handwriting of Rufus Dingwell.]
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 2
+
+I particularly want you to come and lunch with us, dearest Cecilia, the
+day after tomorrow. Don't say to yourself, "The Farnaby's house is dull,
+and Regina is too slow for me," and don't think about the long drive for
+the horses, from your place to London. This letter has an interest of
+its own, my dear--I have got something new for you. What do you think
+of a young man, who is clever and handsome and agreeable--and, wonder
+of wonders, quite unlike any other young Englishman you ever saw in your
+life? You are to meet him at luncheon; and you are to get used to his
+strange name beforehand. For which purpose I enclose his card.
+
+He made his first appearance at our house, at dinner yesterday evening.
+
+When he was presented to me at the tea-table, he was not to be put
+off with a bow--he insisted on shaking hands. "Where I have been," he
+explained, "we help a first introduction with a little cordiality." He
+looked into his tea-cup, after he said that, with the air of a man who
+could say something more, if he had a little encouragement. Of course,
+I encouraged him. "I suppose shaking hands is much the same form in
+America that bowing is in England?" I said, as suggestively as I could.
+
+He looked up directly, and shook his head. "We have too many forms in
+this country," he said. "The virtue of hospitality, for instance, seems
+to have become a form in England. In America, when a new acquaintance
+says, 'Come and see me,' he means it. When he says it here, in nine
+cases out of ten he looks unaffectedly astonished if you are fool enough
+to take him at his word. I hate insincerity, Miss Regina--and now I have
+returned to my own country, I find insincerity one of the established
+institutions of English Society. 'Can we do anything for you?' Ask them
+to do something for you--and you will see what it means. 'Thank you for
+such a pleasant evening!' Get into the carriage with them when they
+go home--and you will find that it means, 'What a bore!' 'Ah, Mr.
+So-and-so, allow me to congratulate you on your new appointment.'
+Mr. So-and-so passes out of hearing--and you discover what the
+congratulations mean. 'Corrupt old brute! he has got the price of his
+vote at the last division.' 'Oh, Mr. Blank, what a charming book you
+have written!' Mr. Blank passes out of hearing--and you ask what his
+book is about. 'To tell you the truth, I haven't read it. Hush! he's
+received at Court; one must say these things.' The other day a friend
+took me to a grand dinner at the Lord Mayor's. I accompanied him first
+to his club; many distinguished guests met there before going to the
+dinner. Heavens, how they spoke of the Lord Mayor! One of them didn't
+know his name, and didn't want to know it; another wasn't certain
+whether he was a tallow-chandler or a button-maker; a third, who had met
+with him somewhere, described him as a damned ass; a fourth said, 'Oh,
+don't be hard on him; he's only a vulgar old Cockney, without an _h_ in
+his whole composition.' A chorus of general agreement followed, as the
+dinner-hour approached: 'What a bore!' I whispered to my friend, 'Why
+do they go?' He answered, 'You see, one must do this sort of thing.'
+And when we got to the Mansion House, they did that sort of thing with
+a vengeance! When the speech-making set in, these very men who had been
+all expressing their profound contempt for the Lord Mayor behind his
+back, now flattered him to his face in such a shamelessly servile way,
+with such a meanly complete insensibility to their own baseness, that
+I did really and literally turn sick. I slipped out into the fresh air,
+and fumigated myself, after the company I had kept, with a cigar. No,
+no! it's useless to excuse these things (I could quote dozens of other
+instances that have come under my own observation) by saying that they
+are trifles. When trifles make themselves habits of yours or of mine,
+they become a part of your character or mine. We have an inveterately
+false and vicious system of society in England. If you want to trace
+one of the causes, look back to the little organized insincerities of
+English life."
+
+Of course you understand, Cecilia, that this was not all said at one
+burst, as I have written it here. Some of it came out in the way of
+answers to my inquiries, and some of it was spoken in the intervals of
+laughing, talking, and tea-drinking. But I want to show you how very
+different this young man is from the young men whom we are in the habit
+of meeting, and so I huddle his talk together in one sample, as Papa
+Farnaby would call it.
+
+My dear, he is decidedly handsome (I mean our delightful Amelius); his
+face has a bright, eager look, indescribably refreshing as a contrast
+to the stolid composure of the ordinary young Englishman. His smile is
+charming; he moves as gracefully--with as little self-consciousness--as
+my Italian greyhound. He has been brought up among the strangest people
+in America; and (would you believe it?) he is actually a Socialist.
+Don't be alarmed. He shocked us all dreadfully by declaring that his
+Socialism was entirely learnt out of the New Testament. I have looked at
+the New Testament, since he mentioned some of his principles to me; and,
+do you know, I declare it is true!
+
+Oh, I forgot--the young Socialist plays and sings! When we asked him
+to go to the piano, he got up and began directly. "I don't do it well
+enough," he said, "to want a great deal of pressing." He sang old
+English songs, with great taste and sweetness. One of the gentlemen of
+our party, evidently disliking him, spoke rather rudely, I thought.
+"A Socialist who sings and plays," he said, "is a harmless Socialist
+indeed. I begin to feel that my balance is safe at my banker's, and
+that London won't be set on fire with petroleum this time." He got his
+answer, I can tell you. "Why should we set London on fire? London takes
+a regular percentage of your income from you, sir, whether you like it
+or not, on sound Socialist principles. You are the man who has got the
+money, and Socialism says:--You must and shall help the man who has got
+none. That is exactly what your own Poor Law says to you, every time the
+collector leaves the paper at your house." Wasn't it clever?--and it was
+doubly severe, because it was good-humouredly said.
+
+Between ourselves, Cecilia, I think he is struck with me. When I walked
+about the room, his bright eyes followed me everywhere. And, when I took
+a chair by somebody else, not feeling it quite right to keep him all to
+myself, he invariably contrived to find a seat on the other side of me.
+His voice, too, had a certain tone, addressed to me, and to no other
+person in the room. Judge for yourself when you come here; but don't
+jump to conclusions, if you please. Oh no--I am not going to fall in
+love with him! It isn't in me to fall in love with anybody. Do you
+remember what the last man whom I refused said of me? "She has a machine
+on the left side of her that pumps blood through her body, but she has
+no heart." I pity the woman who marries _that_ man!
+
+One thing more, my dear. This curious Amelius seems to notice trifles
+which escape men in general, just as _we_ do. Towards the close of the
+evening, poor Mamma Farnaby fell into one of her vacant states; half
+asleep and half awake on the sofa in the back drawing-room. "Your aunt
+interests me," he whispered. "She must have suffered some terrible
+sorrow, at some past time in her life." Fancy a man seeing that! He
+dropped some hints, which showed that he was puzzling his brains to
+discover how I got on with her, and whether I was in her confidence or
+not: he even went the length of asking what sort of life I led with the
+uncle and aunt who have adopted me. My dear, it was done so delicately,
+with such irresistible sympathy and such a charming air of respect,
+that I was quite startled when I remembered, in the wakeful hours of
+the night, how freely I had spoken to him. Not that I have betrayed any
+secrets; for, as you know, I am as ignorant as everybody else of what
+the early troubles of my poor dear aunt may have been. But I did tell
+him how I came into the house a helpless little orphan girl; and how
+generously these two good relatives adopted me; and how happy it made
+me to find that I could really do something to cheer their sad childless
+lives. "I wish I was half as good as you are," he said. "I can't
+understand how you became fond of Mrs. Farnaby. Perhaps it began in
+sympathy and compassion?" Just think of that, from a young Englishman!
+He went on confessing his perplexities, as if we had known one another
+from childhood. "I am a little surprised to see Mrs. Farnaby present at
+parties of this sort; I should have thought she would have stayed in her
+own room." "That's just what she objects to do," I answered; "She says
+people will report that her husband is ashamed of her, or that she is
+not fit to be seen in society, if she doesn't appear at the parties--and
+she is determined not to be misrepresented in that way." Can you
+understand my talking to him with so little reserve? It is a specimen,
+Cecilia, of the odd manner in which my impulses carry me away, in this
+man's company. He is so nice and gentle--and yet so manly. I shall be
+curious to see if you can resist him, with your superior firmness and
+knowledge of the world.
+
+But the strangest incident of all I have not told you yet--feeling some
+hesitation about the best way of describing it, so as to interest you in
+what has deeply interested me. I must tell it as plainly as I can, and
+leave it to speak for itself.
+
+Who do you think has invited Amelius Goldenheart to luncheon? Not Papa
+Farnaby, who only invites him to dinner. Not I, it is needless to say.
+Who is it, then? Mamma Farnaby herself. He has actually so interested
+her that she has been thinking of him, and dreaming of him, in his
+absence!
+
+I heard her last night, poor thing, talking and grinding her teeth in
+her sleep; and I went into her room to try if I could quiet her, in
+the usual way, by putting my cool hand on her forehead, and pressing it
+gently. (The old doctor says it's magnetism, which is ridiculous.) Well,
+it didn't succeed this time; she went on muttering, and making that
+dreadful sound with her teeth. Occasionally a word was spoken clearly
+enough to be intelligible. I could make no connected sense of what I
+heard; but I could positively discover this--that she was dreaming of
+our guest from America!
+
+I said nothing about it, of course, when I went upstairs with her cup of
+tea this morning. What do you think was the first thing she asked
+for? Pen, ink, and paper. Her next request was that I would write Mr.
+Goldenheart's address on an envelope. "Are you going to write to him?"
+I asked. "Yes," she said, "I want to speak to him, while John is out of
+the way at business," "Secrets?" I said, turning it off with a laugh.
+She answered, speaking gravely and earnestly. "Yes; secrets." The letter
+was written, and sent to his hotel, inviting him to lunch with us on
+the first day when he was disengaged. He has replied, appointing the day
+after tomorrow. By way of trying to penetrate the mystery, I inquired
+if she wished me to appear at the luncheon. She considered with herself,
+before she answered that. "I want him to be amused, and put in a good
+humour," she said, "before I speak to him. You must lunch with us--and
+ask Cecilia." She stopped, and considered once more. "Mind one thing,"
+she went on. "Your uncle is to know nothing about it. If you tell him, I
+will never speak to you again."
+
+Is this not extraordinary? Whatever her dream may have been, it has
+evidently produced a strong impression on her. I firmly believe she
+means to take him away with her to her own room, when the luncheon is
+over. Dearest Cecilia, you must help me to stop this! I have never been
+trusted with her secrets; they may, for all I know, be innocent secrets
+enough, poor soul! But it is surely in the highest degree undesirable
+that she should take into her confidence a young man who is only an
+acquaintance of ours: she will either make herself ridiculous, or do
+something worse. If Mr. Farnaby finds it out, I really tremble for what
+may happen.
+
+For the sake of old friendship, don't leave me to face this difficulty
+by myself. A line, only one line, dearest, to say that you will not fail
+me.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK THE THIRD. MRS. FARNABY'S FOOT
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 1
+
+It is an afternoon concert; and modern German music was largely
+represented on the programme. The patient English people sat in
+closely-packed rows, listening to the pretentious instrumental noises
+which were impudently offered to them as a substitute for melody. While
+these docile victims of the worst of all quackeries (musical quackery)
+were still toiling through their first hour of endurance, a passing
+ripple of interest stirred the stagnant surface of the audience caused
+by the sudden rising of a lady overcome by the heat. She was quickly led
+out of the concert-room (after whispering a word of explanation to two
+young ladies seated at her side) by a gentleman who made a fourth member
+of the party. Left by themselves, the young ladies looked at each other,
+whispered to each other, half rose from their places, became confusedly
+conscious that the wandering attention of the audience was fixed on
+them, and decided at last on following their companions out of the hall.
+
+But the lady who had preceded them had some reason of her own for not
+waiting to recover herself in the vestibule. When the gentleman in
+charge of her asked if he should get a glass of water, she answered
+sharply, "Get a cab--and be quick about it."
+
+The cab was found in a moment; the gentleman got in after her, by the
+lady's invitation. "Are you better now?" he asked.
+
+"I have never had anything the matter with me," she replied, quietly;
+"tell the man to drive faster."
+
+Having obeyed his instructions, the gentleman (otherwise Amelius) began
+to look a little puzzled. The lady (Mrs. Farnaby herself) perceived his
+condition of mind, and favoured him with an explanation.
+
+"I had my own motive for asking you to luncheon today," she began,
+in that steady downright way of speaking that was peculiar to her. "I
+wanted to have a word with you privately. My niece Regina--don't be
+surprised at my calling her my niece, when you have heard Mr. Farnaby
+call her his daughter. She _is_ my niece. Adopting her is a mere phrase.
+It doesn't alter facts; it doesn't make her Mr. Farnaby's child or mine,
+does it?"
+
+She had ended with a question, but she seemed to want no answer to it.
+Her face was turned towards the cab-window, instead of towards Amelius.
+He was one of those rare people who are capable of remaining silent when
+they have nothing to say. Mrs. Farnaby went on.
+
+"My niece Regina is a good creature in her way; but she suspects people.
+She has some reason of her own for trying to prevent me from taking you
+into my confidence; and her friend Cecilia is helping her. Yes, yes; the
+concert was the obstacle which they had arranged to put in my way. You
+were obliged to go, after telling them you wanted to hear the music; and
+I couldn't complain, because they had got a fourth ticket for me. I made
+up my mind what to do; and I have done it. Nothing wonderful in my being
+taken ill with the heat; nothing wonderful in your doing your duty as a
+gentleman and looking after me--and what is the consequence? Here we are
+together, on our way to my room, in spite of them. Not so bad for a poor
+helpless creature like me, is it?"
+
+Inwardly wondering what it all meant, and what she could possibly
+want with him, Amelius suggested that the young ladies might leave the
+concert-room, and, not finding them in the vestibule, might follow them
+back to the house.
+
+Mrs. Farnaby turned her head from the window, and looked him in the face
+for the first time. "I have been a match for them so far," she said;
+"leave it to me, and you will find I can be a match for them still."
+
+After saying this, she watched the puzzled face of Amelius with a
+moment's steady scrutiny. Her full lips relaxed into a faint smile; her
+head sank slowly on her bosom. "I wonder whether he thinks I am a little
+crazy?" she said quietly to herself. "Some women in my place would have
+gone mad years ago. Perhaps it might have been better for _me?"_ She
+looked up again at Amelius. "I believe you are a good-tempered fellow,"
+she went on. "Are you in your usual temper now? Did you enjoy your
+lunch? Has the lively company of the young ladies put you in a good
+humour with women generally? I want you to be in a particularly good
+humour with me."
+
+She spoke quite gravely. Amelius, a little to his own astonishment,
+found himself answering gravely on his side; assuring her, in the most
+conventional terms, that he was entirely at her service. Something in
+her manner affected him disagreeably. If he had followed his impulse, he
+would have jumped out of the cab, and have recovered his liberty and his
+light-heartedness at one and the same moment, by running away at the top
+of his speed.
+
+The driver turned into the street in which Mr. Farnaby's house was
+situated. Mrs. Farnaby stopped him, and got out at some little distance
+from the door. "You think the young ones will follow us back," she said
+to Amelius. "It doesn't matter, the servants will have nothing to tell
+them if they do." She checked him in the act of knocking, when they
+reached the house door. "It's tea-time downstairs," she whispered,
+looking at her watch. "You and I are going into the house, without
+letting the servants know anything about it. _Now_ do you understand?"
+
+She produced from her pocket a steel ring, with several keys attached to
+it. "A duplicate of Mr. Farnaby's key," she explained, as she chose one,
+and opened the street door. "Sometimes, when I find myself waking in
+the small hours of the morning, I can't endure my bed; I must go out
+and walk. My key lets me in again, just as it lets us in now, without
+disturbing anybody. You had better say nothing about it to Mr. Farnaby.
+Not that it matters much; for I should refuse to give up my key if he
+asked me. But you're a good-natured fellow--and you don't want to make
+bad blood between man and wife, do you? Step softly, and follow me."
+
+Amelius hesitated. There was something repellent to him in entering
+another man's house under these clandestine conditions. "All right!"
+whispered Mrs. Farnaby, perfectly understanding him. "Consult your
+dignity; go out again, and knock at the door, and ask if I am at home.
+I only wanted to prevent a fuss and an interruption when Regina comes
+back. If the servants don't know we are here, they will tell her we
+haven't returned--don't you see?"
+
+It would have been absurd to contest the matter, after this. Amelius
+followed her submissively to the farther end of the hall. There, she
+opened the door of a long narrow room, built out at the back of the
+house.
+
+"This is my den," she said, signing to Amelius to pass in. "While we are
+here, nobody will disturb us." She laid aside her bonnet and shawl, and
+pointed to a box of cigars on the table. "Take one," she resumed. "I
+smoke too, when nobody sees me. That's one of the reasons, I dare say,
+why Regina wished to keep you out of my room. I find smoking composes
+me. What do _you_ say?"
+
+She lit a cigar, and handed the matches to Amelius. Finding that
+he stood fairly committed to the adventure, he resigned himself to
+circumstances with his customary facility. He too lit a cigar, and took
+a chair by the fire, and looked about him with an impenetrable composure
+worthy of Rufus Dingwell himself.
+
+The room bore no sort of resemblance to a boudoir. A faded old turkey
+carpet was spread on the floor. The common mahogany table had no
+covering; the chintz on the chairs was of a truly venerable age. Some
+of the furniture made the place look like a room occupied by a man.
+Dumb-bells and clubs of the sort used in athletic exercises hung over
+the bare mantelpiece; a large ugly oaken structure with closed doors,
+something between a cabinet and a wardrobe, rose on one side to the
+ceiling; a turning lathe stood against the opposite wall. Above the
+lathe were hung in a row four prints, in dingy old frames of black wood,
+which especially attracted the attention of Amelius. Mostly foreign
+prints, they were all discoloured by time, and they all strangely
+represented different aspects of the same subject--infants parted from
+their parents by desertion or robbery. The young Moses was there, in
+his ark of bulrushes, on the river bank. Good St. Francis appeared next,
+roaming the streets, and rescuing forsaken children in the wintry night.
+A third print showed the foundling hospital of old Paris, with the
+turning cage in the wall, and the bell to ring when the infant was
+placed in it. The next and last subject was the stealing of a child from
+the lap of its slumbering nurse by a gipsy woman. These sadly suggestive
+subjects were the only ornaments on the walls. No traces of books or
+music were visible; no needlework of any sort was to be seen; no
+elegant trifles; no china or flowers or delicate lacework or sparkling
+jewelry--nothing, absolutely nothing, suggestive of a woman's presence
+appeared in any part of Mrs. Farnaby's room.
+
+"I have got several things to say to you," she began; "but one thing
+must be settled first. Give me your sacred word of honour that you will
+not repeat to any mortal creature what I am going to tell you now." She
+reclined in her chair, and drew in a mouthful of smoke and puffed it out
+again, and waited for his reply.
+
+Young and unsuspicious as he was, this unscrupulous method of taking his
+confidence by storm startled Amelius. His natural tact and good sense
+told him plainly that Mrs. Farnaby was asking too much.
+
+"Don't be angry with me, ma'am," he said; "I must remind you that you
+are going to tell me your secrets, without any wish to intrude on them
+on my part--"
+
+She interrupted him there. "What does that matter?" she asked coolly.
+
+Amelius was obstinate; he went on with what he had to say. "I should
+like to know," he proceeded, "that I am doing no wrong to anybody,
+before I give you my promise?"
+
+"You will be doing a kindness to a miserable creature," she answered,
+as quietly as ever; "and you will be doing no wrong to yourself or to
+anybody else, if you promise. That is all I can say. Your cigar is out.
+Take a light."
+
+Amelius took a light, with the dog-like docility of a man in a state of
+blank amazement. She waited, watching him composedly until his cigar was
+in working order again.
+
+"Well?" she asked. "Will you promise now?"
+
+Amelius gave her his promise.
+
+"On your sacred word of honour?" she persisted.
+
+Amelius repeated the formula. She reclined in her chair once more.
+"I want to speak to you as if I was speaking to an old friend," she
+explained. "I suppose I may call you Amelius?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"Well, Amelius, I must tell you first that I committed a sin, many long
+years ago. I have suffered the punishment; I am suffering it still. Ever
+since I was a young woman, I have had a heavy burden of misery on my
+heart. I am not reconciled to it, I cannot submit to it, yet. I never
+shall be reconciled to it, I never shall submit to it, if I live to be
+a hundred. Do you wish me to enter into particulars? or will you have
+mercy on me, and be satisfied with what I have told you so far?"
+
+It was not said entreatingly, or tenderly, or humbly: she spoke with
+a savage self-contained resignation in her manner and in her voice.
+Amelius forgot his cigar again--and again she reminded him of it. He
+answered her as his own generous impulsive temperament urged him; he
+said, "Tell me nothing that causes you a moment's pain; tell me only
+how I can help you." She handed him the box of matches; she said, "Your
+cigar is out again."
+
+He laid down his cigar. In his brief span of life he had seen no human
+misery that expressed itself in this way. "Excuse me," he answered; "I
+won't smoke just now."
+
+She laid her cigar aside like Amelius, and crossed her arms over her
+bosom, and looked at him, with the first softening gleam of tenderness
+that he had seen in her face. "My friend," she said, "yours will be
+a sad life--I pity you. The world will wound that sensitive heart of
+yours; the world will trample on that generous nature. One of these
+days, perhaps, you will be a wretch like me. No more of that. Get up; I
+have something to show you."
+
+Rising herself, she led the way to the large oaken press, and took her
+bunch of keys out of her pocket again.
+
+"About this old sorrow of mine," she resumed. "Do me justice, Amelius,
+at the outset. I haven't treated it as some women treat their sorrows--I
+haven't nursed it and petted it and made the most of it to myself and to
+others. No! I have tried every means of relief, every possible pursuit
+that could occupy my mind. One example of what I say will do as well as
+a hundred. See it for yourself."
+
+She put the key in the lock. It resisted her first efforts to open it.
+With a contemptuous burst of impatience and a sudden exertion of her
+rare strength, she tore open the two doors of the press. Behind the door
+on the left appeared a row of open shelves. The opposite compartment,
+behind the door on the right, was filled by drawers with brass handles.
+She shut the left door; angrily banging it to, as if the opening of it
+had disclosed something which she did not wish to be seen. By the merest
+chance, Amelius had looked that way first. In the one instant in which
+it was possible to see anything, he had noticed, carefully laid out on
+one of the shelves, a baby's long linen frock and cap, turned yellow by
+the lapse of time.
+
+The half-told story of the past was more than half told now. The
+treasured relics of the infant threw their little glimmer of light on
+the motive which had chosen the subjects of the prints on the wall.
+A child deserted and lost! A child who, by bare possibility, might be
+living still!
+
+She turned towards Amelius suddenly, "There is nothing to interest you
+on _that_ side," she said. "Look at the drawers here; open them for
+yourself." She drew back as she spoke, and pointed to the uppermost of
+the row of drawers. A narrow slip of paper was pasted on it, bearing
+this inscription:--_"Dead Consolations."_
+
+Amelius opened the drawer; it was full of books. "Look at them,"
+she said. Amelius, obeying her, discovered dictionaries, grammars,
+exercises, poems, novels, and histories--all in the German language.
+
+"A foreign language tried as a relief," said Mrs. Farnaby, speaking
+quietly behind him. "Month after month of hard study--all forgotten now.
+The old sorrow came back in spite of it. A dead consolation! Open the
+next drawer."
+
+The next drawer revealed water-colours and drawing materials huddled
+together in a corner, and a heap of poor little conventional landscapes
+filling up the rest of the space. As works of art, they were wretched
+in the last degree; monuments of industry and application miserably and
+completely thrown away.
+
+"I had no talent for that pursuit, as you see," said Mrs. Farnaby. "But
+I persevered with it, week after week, month after month. I thought to
+myself, 'I hate it so, it costs me such dreadful trouble, it so worries
+and persecutes and humiliates me, that _this_ surely must keep my mind
+occupied and my thoughts away from myself!' No; the old sorrow stared me
+in the face again on the paper that I was spoiling, through the colours
+that I couldn't learn to use. Another dead consolation! Shut it up."
+
+She herself opened a third and a fourth drawer. In one there appeared
+a copy of Euclid, and a slate with the problems still traced on it; the
+other contained a microscope, and the treatises relating to its use.
+"Always the same effort," she said, shutting the door of the press as
+she spoke; "and always the same result. You have had enough of it, and
+so have I." She turned, and pointed to the lathe in the corner, and to
+the clubs and dumb-bells over the mantelpiece. "I can look at _them_
+patiently," she went on; "they give me bodily relief. I work at the
+lathe till my back aches; I swing the clubs till I'm ready to drop with
+fatigue. And then I lie down on the rug there, and sleep it off, and
+forget myself for an hour or two. Come back to the fire again. You have
+seen my dead consolations; you must hear about my living consolation
+next. In justice to Mr. Farnaby--ah, how I hate him!"
+
+She spoke those last vehement words to herself, but with such intense
+bitterness of contempt that the tones were quite loud enough to be
+heard. Amelius looked furtively towards the door. Was there no hope that
+Regina and her friend might return and interrupt them? After what he had
+seen and heard, could _he_ hope to console Mrs. Farnaby? He could only
+wonder what object she could possibly have in view in taking him into
+her confidence. "Am I always to be in a mess with women?" he thought to
+himself. "First poor Mellicent, and now this one. What next?" He lit his
+cigar again. The brotherhood of smokers, and they alone, will understand
+what a refuge it was to him at that moment.
+
+"Give me a light," said Mrs. Farnaby, recalled to the remembrance of her
+own cigar. "I want to know one thing before I go on. Amelius, I watched
+those bright eyes of yours at luncheon-time. Did they tell me the truth?
+You're not in love with my niece, are you?"
+
+Amelius took his cigar out of his mouth, and looked at her.
+
+"Out with it boldly!" she said.
+
+Amelius let it out, to a certain extent. "I admire her very much," he
+answered.
+
+"Ah," Mrs. Farnaby remarked, "you don't know her as well as I do."
+
+The disdainful indifference of her tone irritated Amelius. He was still
+young enough to believe in the existence of gratitude; and Mrs. Farnaby
+had spoken ungratefully. Besides, he was fond enough of Regina already
+to feel offended when she was referred to slightingly.
+
+"I am surprised to hear what you say of her," he burst out. "She is
+quite devoted to you."
+
+"Oh yes," said Mrs. Farnaby, carelessly. "She is devoted to me, of
+course--she is the living consolation I told you of just now. That was
+Mr. Farnaby's notion in adopting her. Mr. Farnaby thought to himself,
+'Here's a ready-made daughter for my wife--that's all this tiresome
+woman wants to comfort her: now we shall do.' Do you know what I call
+that? I call it reasoning like an idiot. A man may be very clever at
+his business--and may be a contemptible fool in other respects. Another
+woman's child a consolation to _me!_ Pah! it makes me sick to think of
+it. I have one merit, Amelius, I don't cant. It's my duty to take care
+of my sister's child; and I do my duty willingly. Regina's a good sort
+of creature--I don't dispute it. But she's like all those tall darkish
+women: there's no backbone in her, no dash; a kind, feeble, goody-goody,
+sugarish disposition; and a deal of quiet obstinacy at the bottom of
+it, I can tell you. Oh yes, I do her justice; I don't deny that she's
+devoted to me, as you say. But I am making a clean breast of it now.
+And you ought to know, and you shall know, that Mr. Farnaby's living
+consolation is no more a consolation to me than the things you have seen
+in the drawers. There! now we've done with Regina. No: there's one thing
+more to be cleared up. When you say you admire her, what do you mean? Do
+you mean to marry her?"
+
+For once in his life Amelius stood on his dignity. "I have too much
+respect for the young lady to answer your question," he said loftily.
+
+"Because, if you do," Mrs. Farnaby proceeded, "I mean to put every
+possible obstacle in your way. In short, I mean to prevent it."
+
+This plain declaration staggered Amelius. He confessed the truth by
+implication in one word.
+
+"Why?" he asked sharply.
+
+"Wait a little, and recover your temper," she answered.
+
+There was a pause. They sat, on either side of the fireplace, and eyed
+each other attentively.
+
+"Now are you ready?" Mrs. Farnaby resumed. "Here is my reason. If you
+marry Regina, or marry anybody, you will settle down somewhere, and lead
+a dull life."
+
+"Well," said Amelius; "and why not, if I like it?"
+
+"Because I want you to remain a roving bachelor; here today and gone
+tomorrow--travelling all over the world, and seeing everything and
+everybody."
+
+"What good will that do to _you,_ Mrs. Farnaby?"
+
+She rose from her own side of the fireplace, crossed to the side on
+which Amelius was sitting, and, standing before him, placed her hands
+heavily on his shoulders. Her eyes grew radiant with a sudden interest
+and animation as they looked down on him, riveted on his face.
+
+"I am still waiting, my friend, for the living consolation that may yet
+come to me," she said. "And, hear this, Amelius! After all the years
+that have passed, you may be the man who brings it to me."
+
+In the momentary silence that followed, they heard a double knock at the
+house-door.
+
+"Regina!" said Mrs. Farnaby.
+
+As the name passed her lips, she sprang to the door of the room, and
+turned the key in the lock.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 2
+
+Amelius rose impulsively from his chair.
+
+Mrs. Farnaby turned at the same moment, and signed to him to resume his
+seat. "You have given me your promise," she whispered. "All I ask of you
+is to be silent." She softly drew the key out of the door, and showed it
+to him. "You can't get out," she said, "unless you take the key from me
+by force!"
+
+Whatever Amelius might think of the situation in which he now found
+himself, the one thing that he could honourably do was to say nothing,
+and submit to it. He remained quietly by the fire. No imaginable
+consideration (he mentally resolved) should induce him to consent to a
+second confidential interview in Mrs. Farnaby's room.
+
+The servant opened the house-door. Regina's voice was heard in the hall.
+
+"Has my aunt come in?"
+
+"No, miss."
+
+"Have you heard nothing of her?"
+
+"Nothing, miss."
+
+"Has Mr. Goldenheart been here?"
+
+"No, miss."
+
+"Very extraordinary! What can have become of them, Cecilia?"
+
+The voice of the other lady was heard in answer. "We have probably
+missed them, on leaving the concert room. Don't alarm yourself, Regina.
+I must go back, under any circumstances; the carriage will be waiting
+for me. If I see anything of your aunt, I will say that you are
+expecting her at home."
+
+"One moment, Cecilia! (Thomas, you needn't wait.) Is it really true that
+you don't like Mr. Goldenheart?"
+
+"What! has it come to that, already? I'll try to like him, Regina.
+Goodbye again."
+
+The closing of the street door told that the ladies had separated. The
+sound was followed, in another moment, by the opening and closing of the
+dining-room door. Mrs. Farnaby returned to her chair at the fireplace.
+
+"Regina has gone into the dining-room to wait for us," she said. "I see
+you don't like your position here; and I won't keep you more than a few
+minutes longer. You are of course at a loss to understand what I was
+saying to you, when the knock at the door interrupted us. Sit down again
+for five minutes; it fidgets me to see you standing there, looking at
+your boots. I told you I had one consolation still possibly left. Judge
+for yourself what the hope of it is to me, when I own to you that I
+should long since have put an end to my life, without it. Don't think I
+am talking nonsense; I mean what I say. It is one of my misfortunes that
+I have no religious scruples to restrain me. There was a time when I
+believed that religion might comfort me. I once opened my heart to a
+clergyman--a worthy person, who did his best to help me. All useless! My
+heart was too hard, I suppose. It doesn't matter--except to give you
+one more proof that I am thoroughly in earnest. Patience! patience! I am
+coming to the point. I asked you some odd questions, on the day when you
+first dined here? You have forgotten all about them, of course?"
+
+"I remember them perfectly well," Amelius answered.
+
+"You remember them? That looks as if you had thought about them
+afterwards. Come! tell me plainly what you did think?"
+
+Amelius told her plainly. She became more and more interested, more and
+more excited, as he went on.
+
+"Quite right!" she exclaimed, starting to her feet and walking swiftly
+backwards and forwards in the room. "There _is_ a lost girl whom I want
+to find; and she is between sixteen and seventeen years old, as you
+thought. Mind! I have no reason--not the shadow of a reason--for
+believing that she is still a living creature. I have only my own stupid
+obstinate conviction; rooted here," she pressed both hands fiercely on
+her heart, "so that nothing can tear it out of me! I have lived in that
+belief--Oh, don't ask me how long! it is so far, so miserably far, to
+look back!" She stopped in the middle of the room. Her breath came and
+went in quick heavy gasps; the first tears that had softened the hard
+wretchedness in her eyes rose in them now, and transfigured them with
+the divine beauty of maternal love. "I won't distress you," she said,
+stamping on the floor, as she struggled with the hysterical passion that
+was raging in her. "Give me a minute, and I'll force it down again."
+
+She dropped into a chair, threw her arms heavily on the table, and laid
+her head on them. Amelius thought of the child's frock and cap hidden
+in the cabinet. All that was manly and noble in his nature felt for the
+unhappy woman, whose secret was dimly revealed to him now. The little
+selfish sense of annoyance at the awkward situation in which she had
+placed him, vanished to return no more. He approached her, and put his
+hand gently on her shoulder. "I am truly sorry for you," he said. "Tell
+me how I can help you, and I will do it with all my heart."
+
+"Do you really mean that?" She roughly dashed the tears from her eyes,
+and rose as she put the question. Holding him with one hand, she parted
+the hair back from his forehead with the other. "I must see your whole
+face," she said--"your face will tell me. Yes: you do mean it. The world
+hasn't spoilt you, yet. Do you believe in dreams?"
+
+Amelius looked at her, startled by the sudden transition. She
+deliberately repeated her question.
+
+"I ask you seriously," she said; "do you believe in dreams?"
+
+Amelius answered seriously, on his side, "I can't honestly say that I
+do."
+
+"Ah!" she exclaimed, "like me. I don't believe in dreams, either--I wish
+I did! But it's not in me to believe in superstitions; I'm too hard--and
+I'm sorry for it. I have seen people who were comforted by their
+superstitions; happy people, possessed of faith. Don't you even believe
+that dreams are sometimes fulfilled by chance?"
+
+"Nobody can deny that," Amelius replied; "the instances of it are too
+many. But for one dream fulfilled by a coincidence, there are--"
+
+"A hundred at least that are _not_ fulfilled," Mrs. Farnaby interposed.
+"Very well. I calculate on that. See how little hope can live on! There
+is just the barest possibility that what I dreamed of you the other
+night may come to pass. It's a poor chance; but it has encouraged me to
+take you into my confidence, and ask you to help me."
+
+This strange confession--this sad revelation of despair still
+unconsciously deceiving itself under the disguise of hope--only
+strengthened the compassionate sympathy which Amelius already felt for
+her. "What did you dream about me?" he asked gently.
+
+"It's nothing to tell," she replied. "I was in a room that was quite
+strange to me; and the door opened, and you came in leading a young girl
+by the hand. You said, 'Be happy at last; here she is.' My heart knew
+her instantly, though my eyes had never seen her since the first days
+of her life. And I woke myself, crying for joy. Wait! it's not all told
+yet. I went to sleep again, and dreamed it again, and woke, and lay
+awake for awhile, and slept once more, and dreamed it for the third
+time. Ah, if I could only feel some people's confidence in three times!
+No; it produced an impression on me--and that was all. I got as far as
+thinking to myself, there is just a chance; I haven't a creature in the
+world to help me; I may as well speak to him. O, you needn't remind me
+that there is a rational explanation of my dream. I have read it all
+up, in the Encyclopaedia in the library. One of the ideas of wise men
+is that we think of something, consciously or unconsciously, in the
+daytime, and then reproduce it in a dream. That's my case, I daresay.
+When you were first introduced to me, and when I heard where you had
+been brought up, I thought directly that _she_ might have been one among
+the many forlorn creatures who had drifted to your Community, and that I
+might find her through you. Say that thought went to my bed with me--and
+we have the explanation of my dream. Never mind! There is my one poor
+chance in a hundred still left. You will remember me, Amelius, if you
+_should_ meet with her, won't you?"
+
+The implied confession of her own intractable character, without
+religious faith to ennoble it, without even imagination to refine
+it--the unconscious disclosure of the one tender and loving instinct in
+her nature still piteously struggling for existence, with no sympathy to
+sustain it, with no light to guide it--would have touched the heart of
+any man not incurably depraved. Amelius spoke with the fervour of his
+young enthusiasm. "I would go to the uttermost ends of the earth, if I
+thought I could do you any good. But, oh, it sounds so hopeless!"
+
+She shook her head, and smiled faintly.
+
+"Don't say that! You are free, you have money, you will travel about
+in the world and amuse yourself. In a week you will see more than
+stay-at-home people see in a year. How do we know what the future has
+in store for us? I have my own idea. She may be lost in the labyrinth
+of London, or she may be hundreds of thousands of miles away. Amuse
+yourself, Amelius--amuse yourself. Tomorrow or ten years hence, you
+might meet with her!"
+
+In sheer mercy to the poor creature, Amelius refused to encourage her
+delusion. "Even supposing such a thing could happen," he objected, "how
+am I to know the lost girl? You can't describe her to me; you have not
+seen her since she was a child. Do you know anything of what happened at
+the time--I mean at the time when she was lost?"
+
+"I know nothing."
+
+"Absolutely nothing?"
+
+"Absolutely nothing."
+
+"Have you never felt a suspicion of how it happened?"
+
+Her face changed: she frowned as she looked at him. "Not till weeks and
+months had passed," she said, "not till it was too late. I was ill
+at the time. When my mind got clear again, I began to suspect one
+particular person--little by little, you know; noticing trifles, and
+thinking about them afterwards." She stopped, evidently restraining
+herself on the point of saying more.
+
+Amelius tried to lead her on. "Did you suspect the person--?" he began.
+
+"I suspected him of casting the child helpless on the world!" Mrs.
+Farnaby interposed, with a sudden burst of fury. "Don't ask me any more
+about it, or I shall break out and shock you!" She clenched her fists as
+she said the words. "It's well for that man," she muttered between her
+teeth, "that I have never got beyond suspecting, and never found out the
+truth! Why did you turn my mind that way? You shouldn't have done it.
+Help me back again to what we were saying a minute ago. You made some
+objection; you said--?"
+
+"I said," Amelius reminded her, "that, even if I did meet with the
+missing girl, I couldn't possibly know it. And I must say more than
+that--I don't see how you yourself could be sure of recognizing her, if
+she stood before you at this moment."
+
+He spoke very gently, fearing to irritate her. She showed no sign of
+irritation--she looked at him, and listened to him, attentively.
+
+"Are you setting a trap for me?" she asked. "No!" she cried, before
+Amelius could answer, "I am not mean enough to distrust you--I forgot
+myself. You have innocently said something that rankles in my mind. I
+can't leave it where you have left it; I don't like to be told that I
+shouldn't recognize her. Give me time to think. I must clear this up."
+
+She consulted her own thoughts, keeping her eyes fixed on Amelius.
+
+"I am going to speak plainly," she announced, with a sudden appearance
+of resolution. "Listen to this. When I banged to the door of that big
+cupboard of mine, it was because I didn't want you to see something on
+the shelves. Did you see anything in spite of me?"
+
+The question was not an easy one to answer. Amelius hesitated. Mrs.
+Farnaby insisted on a reply.
+
+"Did you see anything?" she reiterated
+
+Amelius owned that he had seen something.
+
+She turned away from him, and looked into the fire. Her firm full tones
+sank so low, when she spoke next, that he could barely hear them.
+
+"Was it something belonging to a child?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Was it a baby's frock and cap? Answer me. We have gone too far to go
+back. I don't want apologies or explanations--I want, Yes or No."
+
+"Yes."
+
+There was an interval of silence. She never moved; she still looked into
+fire--looked, as if all her past life was pictured there in the burning
+coals.
+
+"Do you despise me?" she asked at last, very quietly.
+
+"As God hears me, I am only sorry for you!" Amelius answered.
+
+Another woman would have melted into tears. This woman still looked into
+the fire--and that was all. "What a good fellow!" she said to herself,
+"what a good fellow he is!"
+
+There was another pause. She turned towards him again as abruptly as she
+had turned away.
+
+"I had hoped to spare you, and to spare myself," she said. "If the
+miserable truth has come out, it is through no curiosity of yours, and
+(God knows!) against every wish of mine. I don't know if you really felt
+like a friend towards me before--you must be my friend now. Don't speak!
+I know I can trust you. One last word, Amelius, about my lost child. You
+doubt whether I should recognize her, if she stood before me now. That
+might be quite true, if I had only my own poor hopes and anxieties to
+guide me. But I have something else to guide me--and, after what has
+passed between us, you may as well know what it is: it might even, by
+accident, guide you. Don't alarm yourself; it's nothing distressing this
+time. How can I explain it?" she went on; pausing, and speaking in some
+perplexity to herself. "It would be easier to show it--and why not?" She
+addressed herself to Amelius once more. "I'm a strange creature,"
+she resumed. "First, I worry you about my own affairs--then I puzzle
+you--then I make you sorry for me--and now (would you think it?) I am
+going to amuse you! Amelius, are you an admirer of pretty feet?"
+
+Amelius had heard of men (in books) who had found reason to doubt
+whether their own ears were not deceiving them. For the first time, he
+began to understand those men, and to sympathize with them. He admitted,
+in a certain bewildered way, that he was an admirer of pretty feet--and
+waited for what was to come next.
+
+"When a woman has a pretty hand," Mrs. Farnaby proceeded; "she is ready
+enough to show it. When she goes out to a ball, she favours you with a
+view of her bosom, and a part of her back. Now tell me! If there is no
+impropriety in a naked bosom--where is the impropriety in a naked foot?"
+
+Amelius agreed, like a man in a dream.
+
+"Where, indeed!" he remarked--and waited again for what was to come
+next.
+
+"Look out of the window," said Mrs. Farnaby.
+
+Amelius obeyed. The window had been opened for a few inches at the
+top, no doubt to ventilate the room. The dull view of the courtyard was
+varied by the stables at the farther end, and by the kitchen skylight
+rising in the middle of the open space. As Amelius looked out, he
+observed that some person at that moment in the kitchen required
+apparently a large supply of fresh air. The swinging window, on the side
+of the skylight which was nearest to him, was invisibly and noiselessly
+pulled open from below; the similar window, on the other side, being
+already wide open also. Judging by appearance, the inhabitants of the
+kitchen possessed a merit which is exceedingly rare among domestic
+servants--they understood the laws of ventilation, and appreciated the
+blessing of fresh air.
+
+"That will do," said Mrs. Farnaby. "You can turn round now."
+
+Amelius turned. Mrs. Farnaby's boots and stockings were on the
+hearthrug, and one of Mrs. Farnaby's feet was placed, ready for
+inspection, on the chair which he had just left. "Look at my right foot
+first," she said, speaking gravely and composedly in her ordinary tone.
+
+It was well worth looking at--a foot equally beautiful in form and
+in colour: the instep arched and high, the ankle at once delicate and
+strong, the toes tinged with rose-colour at the tips. In brief, it was
+a foot to be photographed, to be cast in plaster, to be fondled and
+kissed. Amelius attempted to express his admiration, but was not
+allowed to get beyond the first two or three words. "No," Mrs. Farnaby
+explained, "this is not vanity--simply information. You have seen my
+right foot; and you have noticed that there is nothing the matter with
+it. Very well. Now look at my left foot."
+
+She put her left foot up on the chair. "Look between the third toe and
+the fourth," she said.
+
+Following his instructions, Amelius discovered that the beauty of the
+foot was spoilt, in this case, by a singular defect. The two toes were
+bound together by a flexible web, or membrane, which held them to each
+other as high as the insertion of the nail on either side.
+
+"Do you wonder," Mrs. Farnaby asked, "why I show you the fault in my
+foot? Amelius! my poor darling was born with my deformity--and I want
+you to know exactly what it is, because neither you nor I can say what
+reason for remembering it there may not be in the future." She stopped,
+as if to give him an opportunity of speaking. A man shallow and flippant
+by nature might have seen the disclosure in a grotesque aspect. Amelius
+was sad and silent. "I like you better and better," she went on. "You
+are not like the common run of men. Nine out of ten of them would have
+turned what I have just told you into a joke--nine out of ten would have
+said, 'Am I to ask every girl I meet to show me her left foot?' You are
+above that; you understand me. Have I no means of recognizing my own
+child, now?"
+
+She smiled, and took her foot off the chair--then, after a moment's
+thought, she pointed to it again.
+
+"Keep this as strictly secret as you keep everything else," she said.
+"In the past days, when I used to employ people privately to help me to
+find her, it was my only defence against being imposed upon. Rogues and
+vagabonds thought of other marks and signs--but not one of them could
+guess at such a mark as that. Have you got your pocket-book, Amelius? In
+case we are separated at some later time, I want to write the name and
+address in it of a person whom we can trust. I persist, you see, in
+providing for the future. There's the one chance in a hundred that my
+dream may come true--and you have so many years before you, and so many
+girls to meet with in that time!"
+
+She handed back the pocket-book, which Amelius had given to her, after
+having inscribed a man's name and address on one of the blank leaves.
+
+"He was my father's lawyer," she explained; "and he and his son are both
+men to be trusted. Suppose I am ill, for instance--no, that's absurd; I
+never had a day's illness in my life. Suppose I am dead (killed perhaps
+by some accident, or perhaps by my own hand), the lawyers have my
+written instructions, in the case of my child being found. Then again--I
+am such an unaccountable woman--I may go away somewhere, all by myself.
+Never mind! The lawyers shall have my address, and my positive orders
+(though they keep it a secret from all the world besides) to tell it to
+you. I don't ask your pardon, Amelius, for troubling you. The chances
+are so terribly against me; it is all but impossible that I shall ever
+see you--as I saw you in my dream--coming into the room, leading my girl
+by the hand. Odd, isn't it? This is how I veer about between hope and
+despair. Well, it may amuse you to remember it, one of these days. Years
+hence, when I am at rest in mother earth, and when you are a middle aged
+married man, you may tell your wife how strangely you once became the
+forlorn hope of the most wretched woman that ever lived--and you may say
+to each other, as you sit by your snug fireside, 'Perhaps that poor lost
+daughter is still living somewhere, and wondering who her mother was.'
+No! I won't let you see the tears in my eyes again--I'll let you go at
+last."
+
+She led the way to the door--a creature to be pitied, if ever there was
+a pitiable creature yet: a woman whose whole nature was maternal, who
+was nothing if not a mother; and who had lived through sixteen years of
+barren life, in the hopeless anticipation of recovering her lost child!
+
+"Goodbye, and thank you," she said. "I want to be left by myself, my
+dear, with that little frock and cap which you found out in spite of me.
+Go, and tell my niece it's all right--and don't be stupid enough to fall
+in love with a girl who has no love to give you in return." She pushed
+Amelius into the hall. "Here he is, Regina!" she called out; "I have
+done with him."
+
+Before Amelius could speak, she had shut herself into her room. He
+advanced along the hall, and met Regina at the door of the dining-room.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 3
+
+The young lady spoke first.
+
+"Mr. Goldenheart," she said, with the coldest possible politeness,
+"perhaps you will be good enough to explain what this means?"
+
+She turned back into the dining-room. Amelius followed her in silence.
+"Here I am, in another scrape with a woman!" he thought to himself. "Are
+men in general as unlucky as I am, I wonder?"
+
+"You needn't close the door," said Regina maliciously. "Everybody in the
+house is welcome to hear what _I_ have to say to you."
+
+Amelius made a mistake at the outset--he tried what a little humility
+would do to help him. There is probably no instance on record in which
+humility on the part of a man has ever really found its way to the
+indulgence of an irritated woman. The best and the worst of them alike
+have at least one virtue in common--they secretly despise a man who is
+not bold enough to defend himself when they are angry with him.
+
+"I hope I have not offended you?" Amelius ventured to say.
+
+She tossed her head contemptuously. "Oh dear, no! I am not offended.
+Only a little surprised at your being so very ready to oblige my aunt."
+
+In the short experience of her which had fallen to the lot of Amelius,
+she had never looked so charmingly as she looked now. The nervous
+irritability under which she was suffering brightened her face with the
+animation which was wanting in it at ordinary times. Her soft brown eyes
+sparkled; her smooth dusky cheeks glowed with a warm red flush; her
+tall supple figure asserted its full dignity, robed in a superb dress of
+silken purple and black lace, which set off her personal attractions to
+the utmost advantage. She not only roused the admiration of Amelius--she
+unconsciously gave him back the self-possession which he had, for the
+moment, completely lost. He was man enough to feel the humiliation of
+being despised by the one woman in the world whose love he longed
+to win; and he answered with a sudden firmness of tone and look that
+startled her.
+
+"You had better speak more plainly still, Miss Regina," he said. "You
+may as well blame me at once for the misfortune of being a man."
+
+She drew back a step. "I don't understand you," she answered.
+
+"Do I owe no forbearance to a woman who asks a favour of me?" Amelius
+went on. "If a man had asked me to steal into the house on tiptoe, I
+should have said--well! I should have said something I had better not
+repeat. If a man had stood between me and the door when you came back, I
+should have taken him by the collar and pulled him out of my way. Could
+I do that, if you please, with Mrs. Farnaby?"
+
+Regina saw the weak point of this defence with a woman's quickness of
+perception. "I can't offer any opinion," she said; "especially when you
+lay all the blame on my aunt."
+
+Amelius opened his lips to protest--and thought better of it. He wisely
+went straight on with what he had still to say.
+
+"If you will let me finish," he resumed, "you will understand me a
+little better than that. Whatever blame there may be, Miss Regina, I am
+quite ready to take on myself. I merely wanted to remind you that I was
+put in an awkward position, and that I couldn't civilly find a way out
+of it. As for your aunt, I will only say this: I know of hardly any
+sacrifice that I would not submit to, if I could be of the smallest
+service to her. After what I heard, while I was in her room--"
+
+Regina interrupted him at that point. "I suppose it's a secret between
+you?" she said.
+
+"Yes; it's a secret," Amelius proceeded, "as you say. But one thing I
+may tell you, without breaking my promise. Mrs. Farnaby has--well! has
+filled me with kindly feeling towards her. She has a claim, poor soul,
+to my truest sympathy. And I shall remember her claim. And I shall be
+faithful to what I feel towards her as long as I live!"
+
+It was not very elegantly expressed; but the tone was the tone of true
+feeling in his voice trembled, his colour rose. He stood before her,
+speaking with perfect simplicity straight from his heart--and the
+woman's heart felt it instantly. This was the man whose ridicule she had
+dreaded, if her aunt's rash confidence struck him in an absurd light!
+She sat down in silence, with a grave sad face, reproaching herself for
+the wrong which her too ready distrust had inflicted on him; longing to
+ask his pardon, and yet hesitating to say the simple words.
+
+He approached her chair, and, placing his hand on the back of it, said
+gently, "do you think a little better of me now?"
+
+She had taken off her gloves: she silently folded and refolded them in
+her lap.
+
+"Your good opinion is very precious to me," Amelius pleaded, bending
+a little nearer to her. "I can't tell you how sorry I should be--" He
+stopped, and put it more strongly. "I shall never have courage enough to
+enter the house again, if I have made you think meanly of me."
+
+A woman who cared nothing for him would have easily answered this. The
+calm heart of Regina began to flutter: something warned her not to trust
+herself to speak. Little as he suspected it, Amelius had troubled the
+tranquil temperament of this woman. He had found his way to those
+secret reserves of tenderness--placid and deep--of which she was hardly
+conscious herself, until his influence had enlightened her. She was
+afraid to look up at him; her eyes would have told him the truth. She
+lifted her long, finely shaped, dusky hand, and offered it to him as the
+best answer that she could make.
+
+Amelius took it, looked at it, and ventured on his first familiarity
+with her--he kissed it. She only said, "Don't!" very faintly.
+
+"The Queen would let me kiss her hand if I went to Court," Amelius
+reminded her, with a pleasant inner conviction of his wonderful
+readiness at finding an excuse.
+
+She smiled in spite of herself. "Would the Queen let you hold it?" she
+asked, gently releasing her hand, and looking at him as she drew it
+away. The peace was made without another word of explanation. Amelius
+took a chair at her side. "I'm quite happy now you have forgiven me," he
+said. "You don't know how I admire you--and how anxious I am to please
+you, if I only knew how!"
+
+He drew his chair a little nearer; his eyes told her plainly that his
+language would soon become warmer still, if she gave him the smallest
+encouragement. This was one reason for changing the subject. But there
+was another reason, more cogent still. Her first painful sense of having
+treated him unjustly had ceased to make itself keenly felt; the lower
+emotions had their opportunity of asserting themselves. Curiosity,
+irresistible curiosity, took possession of her mind, and urged her to
+penetrate the mystery of the interview between Amelius and her aunt.
+
+"Will you think me very indiscreet," she began slyly, "if I made a
+little confession to you?"
+
+Amelius was only too eager to hear the confession: it would pave the way
+for something of the same sort on his part.
+
+"I understand my aunt making the heat in the concert-room a pretence for
+taking you away with her," Regina proceeded; "but what astonishes me is
+that she should have admitted you to her confidence after so short an
+acquaintance. You are still--what shall I say?--you are still a new
+friend of ours."
+
+"How long will it be before I become an old friend?" Amelius asked. "I
+mean," he added, with artful emphasis, "an old friend of _yours?"_
+
+Confused by the question, Regina passed it over without notice. "I am
+Mrs. Farnaby's adopted daughter," she resumed. "I have been with her
+since I was a little girl--and yet she has never told me any of her
+secrets. Pray don't suppose that I am tempting you to break faith with
+my aunt! I am quite incapable of such conduct as that."
+
+Amelius saw his way to a thoroughly commonplace compliment which
+possessed the charm of complete novelty so far as his experience was
+concerned. He would actually have told her that she was incapable of
+doing anything which was not perfectly becoming to a charming person, if
+she had only given him time! She was too eager in the pursuit of her
+own object to give him time. "I _should_ like to know," she went on,
+"whether my aunt has been influenced in any way by a dream that she had
+about you."
+
+Amelius started. "Has she told you of her dream?" he asked, with some
+appearance of alarm.
+
+Regina blushed and hesitated, "My room is next to my aunt's," she
+explained. "We keep the door between us open. I am often in and out when
+she is disturbed in her sleep. She was talking in her sleep, and I
+heard your name--nothing more. Perhaps I ought not to have mentioned it?
+Perhaps I ought not to expect you to answer me?"
+
+"There is no harm in my answering you," said Amelius. "The dream really
+had something to do with her trusting me. You may not think quite so
+unfavourably of her conduct now you know that."
+
+"It doesn't matter what I think," Regina replied constrainedly. "If my
+aunt's secrets have interested you--what right have I to object? I am
+sure I shall say nothing. Though I am not in my aunt's confidence, nor
+in your confidence, you will find I can keep a secret."
+
+She folded up her gloves for the twentieth time at least, and gave
+Amelius his opportunity of retiring by rising from her chair. He made
+a last effort to recover the ground that he had lost, without betraying
+Mrs. Farnaby's trust in him.
+
+"I am sure you can keep a secret," he said. "I should like to give you
+one of my secrets to keep--only I mustn't take the liberty, I suppose,
+just yet?"
+
+She new perfectly well what he wanted to say. Her heart began to quicken
+its beat; she was at a loss how to answer. After an awkward silence, she
+made an attempt to dismiss him. "Don't let me detain you," she said, "if
+you have any engagement."
+
+Amelius silently looked round him for his hat. On a table behind him
+a monthly magazine lay open, exhibiting one of those melancholy modern
+"illustrations" which present the English art of our day in its laziest
+and lowest state of degradation. A vacuous young giant, in flowing
+trousers, stood in a garden, and stared at a plump young giantess with
+enormous eyes and rotund hips, vacantly boring holes in the grass with
+the point of her parasol. Perfectly incapable of explaining itself, this
+imbecile production put its trust in the printer, whose charitable types
+helped it, at the bottom of the page, with the title of "Love at First
+Sight." On those remarkable words Amelius seized, with the desperation
+of the drowning man, catching at the proverbial straw. They offered him
+a chance of pleading his cause, this time, with a happy indirectness
+of allusion at which not even a young lady's susceptibility could take
+offence.
+
+"Do you believe in that?" he said, pointing to the illustration.
+
+Regina declined to understand him. "In what?" she asked.
+
+"In love at first sight."
+
+It would be speaking with inexcusable rudeness to say plainly that she
+told him a lie. Let the milder form of expression be, that she modestly
+concealed the truth. "I don't know anything about it," she said.
+
+_"I_ do," Amelius remarked smartly.
+
+She persisted in looking at the illustration. Was there an infection
+of imbecility in that fatal work? She was too simple to understand him,
+even yet! "You do--what?" she inquired innocently.
+
+"I know what love at first sight is," Amelius burst out.
+
+Regina turned over the leaves of the magazine. "Ah," she said, "you have
+read the story."
+
+"I haven't read the story," Amelius answered. "I know what I felt
+myself--on being introduced to a young lady."
+
+She looked up at him with a sly smile. "A young lady in America?" she
+asked.
+
+"In England, Miss Regina." He tried to take her hand--but she kept
+it out of his reach. "In London," he went on, drifting back into his
+customary plainness of speech. "In this very street," he resumed,
+seizing her hand before she was aware of him. Too much bewildered to
+know what else to do, Regina took refuge desperately in shaking hands
+with him. "Goodbye, Mr. Goldenheart," she said--and gave him his
+dismissal for the second time.
+
+Amelius submitted to his fate; there was something in her eyes which
+warned him that he had ventured far enough for that day.
+
+"May I call again, soon?" he asked piteously.
+
+"No!" answered a voice at the door which they both recognized--the voice
+of Mrs. Farnaby.
+
+"Yes!" Regina whispered to him, as her aunt entered the room. Mrs.
+Farnaby's interference, following on the earlier events of the day, had
+touched the young lady's usually placable temper in a tender place--and
+Amelius reaped the benefit of it.
+
+Mrs. Farnaby walked straight up to him, put her hand in his arm, and led
+him out into the hall.
+
+"I had my suspicions," she said; "and I find they have not misled me.
+Twice already, I have warned you to let my niece alone. For the third,
+and last time, I tell you that she is as cold as ice. She will trifle
+with you as long as it flatters her vanity; and she will throw you over,
+as she has thrown other men over. Have your fling, you foolish fellow,
+before you marry anybody. Pay no more visits to this house, unless they
+are visits to me. I shall expect to hear from you." She paused, and
+pointed to a statue which was one of the ornaments in the hall. "Look at
+that bronze woman with the clock in her hand. That's Regina. Be off with
+you--goodbye!"
+
+Amelius found himself in the street. Regina was looking out at the
+dining-room window. He kissed his hand to her: she smiled and bowed.
+"Damn the other men!" Amelius said to himself. "I'll call on her
+tomorrow."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 4
+
+Returning to his hotel, he found three letters waiting for him on the
+sitting-room table.
+
+The first letter that he opened was from his landlord, and contained his
+bill for the past week. As he looked at the sum total, Amelius presented
+to perfection the aspect of a serious young man. He took pen, ink,
+and paper, and made some elaborate calculations. Money that he had too
+generously lent, or too freely given away, appeared in his statement of
+expenses, as well as money that he had spent on himself. The result may
+be plainly stated in his own words: "Goodbye to the hotel; I must go
+into lodgings."
+
+Having arrived at this wise decision, he opened the second letter. It
+proved to be written by the lawyers who had already communicated with
+him at Tadmor, on the subject of his inheritance.
+
+
+"DEAR SIR,
+
+"The enclosed, insufficiently addressed as you will perceive, only
+reached us this day. We beg to remain, etc."
+
+
+Amelius opened the letter enclosed, and turned to the signature for
+information. The name instantly took him back to the Community: the
+writer was Mellicent.
+
+Her letter began abruptly, in these terms:
+
+"Do you remember what I said to you when we parted at Tadmor? I said,
+'Be comforted, Amelius, the end is not yet.' And I said again, 'You will
+come back to me.'
+
+"I remind you of this, my friend--directing to your lawyers, whose names
+I remember when their letter to you was publicly read in the Common
+Room. Once or twice a year I shall continue to remind you of those
+parting words of mine: there will be a time perhaps when you will thank
+me for doing so.
+
+"In the mean while, light your pipe with my letters; my letters don't
+matter. If I can comfort you, and reconcile you to your life--years
+hence, when you, too, my Amelius, may be one of the Fallen Leaves like
+me--then I shall not have lived and suffered in vain; my last days on
+earth will be the happiest days that I have ever seen.
+
+"Be pleased not to answer these lines, or any other written words of
+mine that may follow, so long as you are prosperous and happy. With
+_that_ part of your life I have nothing to do. You will find friends
+wherever you go--among the women especially. Your generous nature shows
+itself frankly in your face; your manly gentleness and sweetness speak
+in every tone of your voice; we poor women feel drawn towards you by
+an attraction which we are not able to resist. Have you fallen in love
+already with some beautiful English girl? Oh, be careful and prudent!
+Be sure, before you set your heart on her, that she is worthy of you! So
+many women are cruel and deceitful. Some of them will make you believe
+you have won their love, when you have only flattered their vanity; and
+some are poor weak creatures whose minds are set on their own interests,
+and who may let bad advisers guide them, when you are not by. For your
+own sake, take care!
+
+"I am living with my sister, at New York. The days and weeks glide by
+me quietly; you are in my thoughts and my prayers; I have nothing to
+complain of; I wait and hope. When the time of my banishment from the
+Community has expired, I shall go back to Tadmor; and there you will
+find me, Amelius, the first to welcome you when your spirits are sinking
+under the burden of life, and your heart turns again to the friends of
+your early days.
+
+"Goodbye, my dear--goodbye!"
+
+
+Amelius laid the letter aside, touched and saddened by the artless
+devotion to him which it expressed. He was conscious also of a feeling
+of uneasy surprise, when he read the lines which referred to his
+possible entanglement with some beautiful English girl. Here, with
+widely different motives, was Mrs. Farnaby's warning repeated, by
+a stranger writing from another quarter of the globe! It was an odd
+coincidence, to say the least of it. After thinking for a while, he
+turned abruptly to the third letter that was waiting for him. He was not
+at ease; his mind felt the need of relief.
+
+The third letter was from Rufus Dingwell; announcing the close of his
+tour in Ireland, and his intention of shortly joining Amelius in London.
+The excellent American expressed, with his customary absence of reserve,
+his fervent admiration of Irish hospitality, Irish beauty, and Irish
+whisky. "Green Erin wants but one thing more," Rufus predicted, "to be
+a Paradise on earth--it wants the day to come when we shall send an
+American minister to the Irish Republic." Laughing over this quaint
+outbreak, Amelius turned from the first page to the second. As his eyes
+fell on the next paragraph, a sudden change passed over him; he let the
+letter drop on the floor.
+
+"One last word," the American wrote, "about that nice long bright letter
+of yours. I have read it with strict attention, and thought over it
+considerably afterwards. Don't be riled, friend Amelius, if I tell
+you in plain words, that your account of the Farnabys doesn't make me
+happy--quite the contrary, I do assure you. My back is set up, sir,
+against that family. You will do well to drop them; and, above all
+things, mind what you are about with the brown miss, who has found
+her way to your favourable opinion in such an almighty hurry. Do me a
+favour, my good boy. Just wait till I have seen her, will you?"
+
+Mrs. Farnaby, Mellicent, Rufus--all three strangers to each other; and
+all three agreed nevertheless in trying to part him from the beautiful
+young Englishwoman! "I don't care," Amelius thought to himself "They may
+say what they please--I'll marry Regina, if she will have me!"
+
+
+
+
+BOOK THE FOURTH. LOVE AND MONEY
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 1
+
+In an interval of no more than three weeks what events may not present
+themselves? what changes may not take place? Behold Amelius, on the
+first drizzling day of November, established in respectable lodgings, at
+a moderate weekly rent. He stands before his small fireside, and warms
+his back with an Englishman's severe sense of enjoyment. The cheap
+looking-glass on the mantelpiece reflects the head and shoulders of a
+new Amelius. His habits are changed; his social position is in course of
+development. Already, he is a strict economist. Before long, he expects
+to become a married man.
+
+It is good to be economical: it is, perhaps, better still to be the
+accepted husband of a handsome young woman. But, for all that, a man
+in a state of moral improvement, with prospects which his less favoured
+fellow creatures may reasonably envy, is still a man subject to the
+mischievous mercy of circumstances, and capable of feeling it keenly.
+The face of the new Amelius wore an expression of anxiety, and, more
+remarkable yet, the temper of the new Amelius was out of order.
+
+For the first time in his life he found himself considering trivial
+questions of sixpences, and small favours of discount for cash
+payments--an irritating state of things in itself. There were more
+serious anxieties, however, to trouble him than these. He had no reason
+to complain of the beloved object herself. Not twelve hours since he
+had said to Regina, with a voice that faltered, and a heart that beat
+wildly, "Are you fond enough of me to let me marry you?" And she had
+answered placidly, with a heart that would have satisfied the most
+exacting stethoscope in the medical profession, "Yes, if you like."
+There was a moment of rapture, when she submitted for the first time to
+be kissed, and when she consented, on being gently reminded that it was
+expected of her, to return the kiss--once, and no more. But there was
+also an attendant train of serious considerations which followed on the
+heels of Amelius when the kissing was over, and when he had said goodbye
+for the day.
+
+He had two women for enemies, both resolutely against him in the matter
+of his marriage.
+
+Regina's correspondent and bosom friend, Cecilia, who had begun by
+disliking him, without knowing why, persisted in maintaining her
+unfavourable opinion of the new friend of the Farnabys. She was a young
+married woman; and she had an influence over Regina which promised, when
+the fit opportunity came, to make itself felt. The second, and by far
+the more powerful hostile influence, was the influence of Mrs. Farnaby.
+Nothing could exceed the half sisterly, half motherly, goodwill with
+which she received Amelius on those rare occasions when they happened
+to meet, unembarrassed by the presence of a third person in the room.
+Without actually reverting to what had passed between them during their
+memorable interview, Mrs. Farnaby asked questions, plainly showing that
+the forlorn hope which she associated with Amelius was a hope still
+firmly rooted in her mind. "Have you been much about London lately?"
+"Have you met with any girls who have taken your fancy?" "Are you
+getting tired of staying in the same place, and are you going to travel
+soon?" Inquiries such as these she was, sooner or later, sure to make
+when they were alone. But if Regina happened to enter the room, or
+if Amelius contrived to find his way to her in some other part of the
+house, Mrs. Farnaby deliberately shortened the interview and silenced
+the lovers--still as resolute as ever to keep Amelius exposed to the
+adventurous freedom of a bachelor's life. For the last week, his only
+opportunities of speaking to Regina had been obtained for him secretly
+by the well-rewarded devotion of her maid. And he had now the prospect
+before him of asking Mr. Farnaby for the hand of his adopted daughter,
+with the certainty of the influence of two women being used against
+him--even if he succeeded in obtaining a favourable reception for his
+proposal from the master of the house.
+
+Under such circumstances as these--alone, on a rainy November day, in
+a lodging on the dreary eastward side of the Tottenham Court Road--even
+Amelius bore the aspect of a melancholy man. He was angry with his cigar
+because it refused to light freely. He was angry with the poor deaf
+servant-of-all-work, who entered the room, after one thumping knock
+at the door, and made, in muffled tones, the barbarous announcement,
+"Here's somebody a-wantin' to see yer."
+
+"Who the devil is Somebody?" Amelius shouted.
+
+"Somebody is a citizen of the United States," answered Rufus, quietly
+entering the room. "And he's sorry to find Claude A. Goldenheart's
+temperature at boiling-point already!"
+
+He had not altered in the slightest degree since he had left the
+steamship at Queenstown. Irish hospitality had not fattened him;
+the change from sea to land had not suggested to him the slightest
+alteration in his dress. He still wore the huge felt hat in which he
+had first presented himself to notice on the deck of the vessel. The
+maid-of-all-work raised her eyes to the face of the long lean stranger,
+overshadowed by the broadbrimmed hat, in reverent amazement. "My love
+to you, miss," said Rufus, with his customary grave cordiality; _"I'll_
+shut the door." Having dismissed the maid with that gentle hint, he
+shook hands heartily with Amelius. "Well, I call this a juicy morning,"
+he said, just as if they had met at the cabin breakfast-table as usual.
+
+For the moment, at least, Amelius brightened at the sight of his
+fellow-traveller. "I am really glad to see you," he said. "It's lonely
+in these new quarters, before one gets used to them."
+
+Rufus relieved himself of his hat and great coat, and silently looked
+about the room. "I'm big in the bones," he remarked, surveying the
+rickety lodging-house furniture with some suspicion; "and I'm a trifle
+heavier than I look. I shan't break one of these chairs if I sit down on
+it, shall I?" Passing round the table (littered with books and letters)
+in search of the nearest chair, he accidentally brushed against a sheet
+of paper with writing on it. "Memorandum of friends in London, to be
+informed of my change of address," he read, looking at the paper, as
+he picked it up, with the friendly freedom that characterized him. "You
+have made pretty good use of your time, my son, since I took my leave
+of you in Queenstown harbour. I call this a reasonable long list of
+acquaintances made by a young stranger in London."
+
+"I met with an old friend of my family at the hotel," Amelius explained.
+"He was a great loss to my poor father, when he got an appointment in
+India; and, now he has returned, he has been equally kind to me. I am
+indebted to his introduction for most of the names on that list."
+
+"Yes?" said Rufus, in the interrogative tone of a man who was waiting to
+hear more. "I'm listening, though I may not look like it. Git along."
+
+Amelius looked at his visitor, wondering in what precise direction he
+was to "git along."
+
+"I'm no friend to partial information," Rufus proceeded; "I like to
+round it off complete, as it were, in my own mind. There are names on
+this list that you haven't accounted for yet. Who provided you, sir,
+with the balance of your new friends?"
+
+Amelius answered, not very willingly, "I met them at Mr. Farnaby's
+house."
+
+Rufus looked up from the list with the air of a man surprised by
+disagreeable information, and unwilling to receive it too readily.
+"How?" he exclaimed, using the old English equivalent (often heard in
+America) for the modern "What?"
+
+"I met them at Mr. Farnaby's," Amelius repeated.
+
+"Did you happen to receive a letter of my writing, dated Dublin?" Rufus
+asked.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Do you set any particular value on my advice?"
+
+"Certainly!"
+
+"And you cultivate social relations with Farnaby and family,
+notwithstanding?"
+
+"I have motives for being friendly with them, which--which I haven't had
+time to explain to you yet."
+
+Rufus stretched out his long legs on the floor, and fixed his shrewd
+grave eyes steadily on Amelius.
+
+"My friend," he said, quietly, "in respect of personal appearance and
+pleasing elasticity of spirits, I find you altered for the worse, I do.
+It may be Liver, or it may be Love. I reckon, now I think of it, you're
+too young yet for Liver. It's the brown miss--that's what 'tis. I hate
+that girl, sir, by instinct."
+
+"A nice way of talking of a young lady you never saw!" Amelius broke
+out.
+
+Rufus smiled grimly. "Go ahead!" he said. "If you can get vent in
+quarrelling with me, go ahead, my son."
+
+He looked round the room again, with his hands in his pockets,
+whistling. Descending to the table in due course of time, his quick eye
+detected a photograph placed on the open writing desk which Amelius had
+been using earlier in the day. Before it was possible to stop him,
+the photograph was in his hand. "I believe I've got her likeness," he
+announced. "I do assure you I take pleasure in making her acquaintance
+in this sort of way. Well, now, I declare she's a columnar creature!
+Yes, sir; I do justice to your native produce--your fine fleshy beef-fed
+English girl. But I tell you this: after a child or two, that sort runs
+to fat, and you find you have married more of her than you bargained
+for. To what lengths may you have proceeded, Amelius, with this splendid
+and spanking person?"
+
+Amelius was just on the verge of taking offence. "Speak of her
+respectfully," he said, "if you expect me to answer you."
+
+Rufus stared in astonishment. "I'm paying her all manner of
+compliments," he protested, "and you're not satisfied yet. My friend,
+I still find something about you, on this occasion, which reminds me
+of meat cut against the grain. You're almost nasty--you are! The air of
+London, I reckon, isn't at all the thing for you. Well, it don't matter
+to me; I like you. Afloat or ashore, I like you. Do you want to know
+what I should do, in your place, if I found myself steering a little too
+nigh to the brown miss? I should--well, to put it in one word, I should
+scatter. Where's the harm, I'll ask you, if you try another girl or two,
+before you make your mind up. I shall be proud to introduce you to our
+slim and snaky sort at Coolspring. Yes. I mean what I say; and I'll go
+back with you across the pond." Referring in this disrespectful manner
+to the Atlantic Ocean, Rufus offered his hand in token of unalterable
+devotion and goodwill.
+
+Who could resist such a man as this? Amelius, always in extremes, wrung
+his hand, with an impetuous sense of shame. "I've been sulky," he said,
+"I've been rude, I ought to be ashamed of myself--and I am. There's only
+one excuse for me, Rufus. I love her with all my heart and soul; and
+I'm engaged to be married to her. And yet, if you understand my way of
+putting it, I'm--in short, I'm in a mess."
+
+With this characteristic preface, he described his position as exactly
+as he could; having due regard to the necessary reserve on the subject
+of Mrs. Farnaby. Rufus listened, with the closest attention, from
+beginning to end; making no attempt to disguise the unfavourable
+impression which the announcement of the marriage-engagement had made on
+him. When he spoke next, instead of looking at Amelius as usual, he held
+his head down, and looked gloomily at his boots.
+
+"Well," he said, "you've gone ahead this time, and that's a fact. She
+didn't raise any difficulties that a man could ride off on--did she?"
+
+"She was all that was sweet and kind!" Amelius answered, with
+enthusiasm.
+
+"She was all that was sweet and kind," Rufus absently repeated, still
+intent on the solid spectacle of his own boots. "And how about uncle
+Farnaby? Perhaps he's sweet and kind likewise, or perhaps he cuts up
+rough? Possible--is it not, sir?"
+
+"I don't know; I haven't spoken to him yet."
+
+Rufus suddenly looked up. A faint gleam of hope irradiated his long lank
+face. "Mercy be praised! there's a last chance for you," he remarked.
+"Uncle Farnaby may say No."
+
+"It doesn't matter what he says," Amelius rejoined. "She's old enough to
+choose for herself, he can't stop the marriage."
+
+Rufus lifted one wiry yellow forefinger, in a state of perpendicular
+protest. "He cannot stop the marriage," the sagacious New Englander
+admitted; "but he can stop the money, my son. Find out how you stand
+with him before another day is over your head."
+
+"I can't go to him this evening." said Amelius; "he dines out."
+
+"Where is he now?"
+
+"At his place of business."
+
+"Fix him at his place of business. Right away!" cried Rufus, springing
+with sudden energy to his feet.
+
+"I don't think he would like it," Amelius objected. "He's not a very
+pleasant fellow, anywhere; but he's particularly disagreeable at his
+place of business."
+
+Rufus walked to the window, and looked out. The objections to Mr.
+Farnaby appeared to fail, so far, in interesting him.
+
+"To put it plainly," Amelius went on, "there's something about him that
+I can't endure. And--though he's very civil to me, in his way--I
+don't think he has ever got over the discovery that I am a Christian
+Socialist."
+
+Rufus abruptly turned round from the window, and became attentive again.
+"So you told him that--did you?" he said.
+
+"Of course!" Amelius rejoined, sharply. "Do you suppose I am ashamed of
+the principles in which I have been brought up?"
+
+"You don't care, I reckon, if all the world knows your principles,
+persisted Rufus, deliberately leading him on.
+
+"Care?" Amelius reiterated. "I only wish I had all the world to listen
+to me. They should hear of my principles, with no bated breath, I
+promise you!"
+
+There was a pause. Rufus turned back again to the window. "When
+Farnaby's at home, where does he live?" he asked suddenly--still keeping
+his face towards the street.
+
+Amelius mentioned the address. "You don't mean that you are going to
+call there?" he inquired, with some anxiety.
+
+"Well, I reckoned I might catch him before dinner-time. You seem to be
+sort of feared to speak to him yourself. I'm your friend, Amelius--and
+I'll speak for you."
+
+The bare idea of the interview struck Amelius with terror. "No, no!" he
+said. "I'm much obliged to you, Rufus. But in a matter of this sort, I
+shouldn't like to transfer the responsibility to my friend. I'll speak
+to Mr. Farnaby in a day or two."
+
+Rufus was evidently not satisfied with this. "I do suppose, now,"
+he suggested, "you're not the only man moving in this metropolis
+who fancies Miss Regina. Query, my son: if you put off Farnaby much
+longer--" He paused and looked at Amelius. "Ah," he said, "I reckon I
+needn't enlarge further: there _is_ another man. Well, it's the same
+in my country; I don't know what he does, with You: he always turns up,
+with Us, just at the time when you least want to see him."
+
+There _was_ another man--an older and a richer man than Amelius; equally
+assiduous in his attentions to the aunt and to the niece; submissively
+polite to his favoured young rival. He was the sort of person, in age
+and in temperament, who would be perfectly capable of advancing his own
+interests by means of the hostile influence of Mrs. Farnaby. Who could
+say what the result might be if, by some unlucky accident, he made the
+attempt before Amelius had secured for himself the support of the master
+of the house? In his present condition of nervous irritability, he was
+ready to believe in any coincidence of the disastrous sort. The wealthy
+rival was a man of business, a near city neighbour of Mr. Farnaby. They
+might be together at that moment; and Regina's fidelity to her lover
+might be put to a harder test than she was prepared to endure. Amelius
+remembered the gentle conciliatory smile (too gentle by half) with which
+his placid mistress had received his first kisses--and, without stopping
+to weigh conclusions, snatched up his hat. "Wait here for me, Rufus,
+like a good fellow. I'm off to the stationer's shop." With those parting
+words, he hurried out of the room.
+
+Left by himself, Rufus began to rummage the pockets of his frockcoat--a
+long, loose, and dingy garment which had become friendly and comfortable
+to him by dint of ancient use. Producing a handful of correspondence,
+he selected the largest envelope of all; shook out on the table several
+smaller letters enclosed; picked one out of the number; and read the
+concluding paragraph only, with the closest attention.
+
+"I enclose letters of introduction to the secretaries of literary
+institutions in London, and in some of the principal cities of England.
+If you feel disposed to lecture yourself, or if you can persuade friends
+and citizens known to you to do so, I believe it may be in your power to
+advance in this way the interests of our Bureau. Please take notice
+that the more advanced institutions, which are ready to countenance and
+welcome free thought in religion, politics, and morals, are marked on
+the envelopes with a cross in red ink. The envelopes without a mark are
+addressed to platforms on which the customary British prejudices remain
+rampant, and in which the charge for places reaches a higher figure than
+can be as yet obtained in the sanctuaries of free thought."
+
+Rufus laid down the letter, and, choosing one among the envelopes marked
+in red ink, looked at the introduction enclosed. "If the right sort of
+invitation reached Amelius from this institution," he thought, "the
+boy would lecture on Christian Socialism with all his heart and soul. I
+wonder what the brown miss and her uncle would say to that?"
+
+He smiled to himself, and put the letter back in the envelope, and
+considered the subject for a while. Below the odd rough surface, he
+was a man in ten thousand; no more single-hearted and more affectionate
+creature ever breathed the breath of life. He had not been understood in
+his own little circle; there had been a want of sympathy with him,
+and even a want of knowledge of him, at home. Amelius, popular with
+everybody, had touched the great heart of this man. He perceived the
+peril that lay hidden under the strange and lonely position of his
+fellow-voyager--so innocent in the ways of the world, so young and so
+easily impressed His fondness for Amelius, it is hardly too much to say,
+was the fondness of a father for a son. With a sigh, he shook his head,
+and gathered up his letters, and put them back in his pockets. "No, not
+yet," he decided. "The poor boy really loves her; and the girl may be
+good enough to make the happiness of his life." He got up and walked
+about the room. Suddenly he stopped, struck by a new idea. "Why
+shouldn't I judge for myself?" he thought. "I've got the address--I
+reckon I'll look in on the Farnabys, in a friendly way."
+
+He sat down at the desk, and wrote a line, in the event of Amelius being
+the first to return to the lodgings:
+
+
+DEAR BOY,
+
+"I don't find her photograph tells me quite so much as I want to know.
+I have a mind to see the living original. Being your friend, you know,
+it's only civil to pay my respects to the family. Expect my unbiased
+opinion when I come back.
+
+"Yours,
+
+"RUFUS."
+
+
+Having enclosed and addressed these lines, he took up his greatcoat--and
+checked himself in the act of putting it on. The brown miss was a
+British miss. A strange New Englander had better be careful of his
+personal appearance, before he ventured into her presence. Urged by this
+cautious motive, he approached the looking-glass, and surveyed himself
+critically.
+
+"I doubt I might be the better," it occurred to him, "if I brushed my
+hair, and smelt a little of perfume. Yes. I'll make a toilet. Where's
+the boy's bedroom, I wonder?"
+
+He observed a second door in the sitting-room, and opened it at hazard.
+Fortune had befriended him, so far: he found himself in his young
+friend's bedchamber.
+
+The toilet of Amelius, simple as it was, had its mysteries for Rufus.
+He was at a loss among the perfumes. They were all contained in a
+modest little dressing case, without labels of any sort to describe the
+contents of the pots and bottles. He examined them one after another,
+and stopped at some recently invented French shaving-cream. "It smells
+lovely," he said, assuming it to be some rare pomatum. "Just what I
+want, it seems, for my head." He rubbed the shaving cream into his
+bristly iron-gray hair, until his arms ached. When he had next sprinkled
+his handkerchief and himself profusely, first with rose water, and then
+(to make quite sure) with eau-de-cologne used as a climax, he felt that
+he was in a position to appeal agreeably to the senses of the softer
+sex. In five minutes more, he was on his way to Mr. Farnaby's private
+residence.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 2
+
+The rain that had begun with the morning still poured on steadily in the
+afternoon. After one look out of the window, Regina decided on passing
+the rest of the day luxuriously, in the company of a novel, by her own
+fireside. With her feet on the tender, and her head on the soft cushion
+of her favourite easy-chair, she opened the book. Having read the first
+chapter and part of the second, she was just lazily turning over the
+leaves in search of a love scene, when her languid interest in the novel
+was suddenly diverted to an incident in real life. The sitting-room door
+was gently opened, and her maid appeared in a state of modest confusion.
+
+"If you please, miss, here's a strange gentleman who comes from Mr.
+Goldenheart. He wishes particularly to say--"
+
+She paused, and looked behind her. A faint and curious smell of mingled
+soap and scent entered the room, followed closely by a tall, calm,
+shabbily-dressed man, who laid a wiry yellow hand on the maid's
+shoulder, and stopped her effectually before she could say a word more.
+
+"Don't you think of troubling yourself to git through with it, my
+dear; I'm here, and I'll finish for you." Addressing the maid in
+these encouraging terms, the stranger advanced to Regina, and actually
+attempted to shake hands with her! Regina rose--and looked at him.
+It was a look that ought to have daunted the boldest man living; it
+produced no sort of effect on _this_ man. He still held out his hand;
+his lean face broadened with a pleasant smile. "My name is Rufus
+Dingwell," he said. "I come from Coolspring, Mass.; and Amelius is my
+introduction to yourself and family."
+
+Regina silently acknowledged this information by a frigid bow, and
+addressed herself to the maid, waiting at the door: "Don't leave the
+room, Phoebe."
+
+Rufus, inwardly wondering what Phoebe was wanted for, proceeded to
+express the cordial sentiments proper to the occasion. "I have heard
+about you, miss; and I take pleasure in making your acquaintance."
+
+The unwritten laws of politeness obliged Regina to say something. "I
+have not heard Mr. Goldenheart mention your name," she remarked. "Are
+you an old friend of his?"
+
+Rufus explained with genial alacrity. "We crossed the Pond together,
+miss. I like the boy; he's bright and spry; he refreshes me--he does. We
+go ahead with most things in my country; and friendship's one of them.
+How _do_ you find yourself? Won't you shake hands?" He took her
+hand, without waiting to be repelled this time, and shook it with the
+heartiest good-will.
+
+Regina shuddered faintly: she summoned assistance in case of further
+familiarity. "Phoebe, tell my aunt."
+
+Rufus added a message on his own account. "And say this, my dear. I
+sincerely desire to make the acquaintance of Miss Regina's aunt, and any
+other members of the family circle."
+
+Phoebe left the room, smiling. Such an amusing visitor as this was
+a rare person in Mr. Farnaby's house. Rufus looked after her, with
+unconcealed approval. The maid appeared to be more to his taste than
+the mistress. "Well, that's a pretty creature, I do declare," he said
+to Regina. "Reminds me of our American girls--slim in the waist, and
+carries her head nicely. How old may she be, now?"
+
+Regina expressed her opinion of this familiar question by pointing, with
+silent dignity, to a chair.
+
+"Thank you, miss; not that one," said Rufus. "You see, I'm long in the
+legs, and if I once got down as low as that, I reckon I should have to
+restore the balance by putting my feet up on the grate; and that's not
+manners in Great Britain--and quite right too."
+
+He picked out the highest chair he could find, and admired the
+workmanship as he drew it up to the fireplace. "Most sumptuous and
+elegant," he said. "The style of the Re_nay_sance, as they call it."
+Regina observed with dismay that he had not got his hat in his hand like
+other visitors. He had left it no doubt in the hall; he looked as if he
+had dropped in to spend the day, and stay to dinner.
+
+"Well, miss, I've seen your photograph," he resumed; "and I don't
+much approve of it, now I see You. My sentiments are not altogether
+favourable to that art. I delivered a lecture on photographic
+portraiture at Coolspring; and I described it briefly as justice without
+mercy. The audience took the idea; they larfed, they did. Larfin'
+reminds me of Amelius. Do you object to his being a Christian Socialist,
+miss?"
+
+The young lady's look, when she answered the question, was not lost on
+Rufus. He registered it, mentally, in case of need. "Amelius will soon
+get over all that nonsense," she said, "when he has been a little longer
+in London."
+
+"Possible," Rufus admitted. "The boy is fond of you. Yes: he loves you.
+I have noticed him, and I can certify to that. I may also remark that he
+wants a deal of love in return. No doubt, miss, you have observed that
+circumstance yourself?"
+
+Regina resented this last inquiry as an outrage on propriety. "What next
+will he say?" she thought to herself. "I must put this presuming man in
+his proper place." She darted another annihilating look at him, as she
+spoke in her turn. "May I ask, Mr.--Mr.----?"
+
+"Dingwell," said Rufus, prompting her.
+
+"May I ask, Mr. Dingwell, if you have favoured me by calling here at the
+request of Mr. Goldenheart?"
+
+Genial and simple-minded as he was, eagerly as he desired to appreciate
+at her full value the young lady who was one day to be the wife of
+Amelius, Rufus felt the tone in which those words were spoken. It was
+not easy to stimulate his modest sense of what was fairly due to him
+into asserting itself, but the cold distrust, the deliberate distance
+of Regina's manner, exhausted the long-suffering indulgence of this
+singularly patient man. "The Lord, in his mercy, preserve Amelius from
+marrying You," he thought, as he rose from his chair, and advanced with
+a certain simple dignity to take leave of her.
+
+"It did not occur to me, miss, to pay my respects to you, till Amelius
+and I had parted company," he said. "Please to excuse me. I should have
+been welcome, in my country, with no better introduction than being (as
+I may say) his friend and well-wisher. If I have made a mistake--"
+
+He stopped. Regina had suddenly changed colour. Instead of looking at
+him, she was looking over his shoulder, apparently at something behind
+him. He turned to see what it was. A lady, short and stout, with strange
+wild sorrowful eyes, had noiselessly entered the room while he was
+speaking: she was waiting, as it seemed, until he had finished what he
+had to say. When they confronted each other, she moved to meet him, with
+a firm heavy step, and with her hand held out in token of welcome.
+
+"You may feel equally sure, sir, of a friendly reception here," she
+said, in her steady self-possessed way. "I am this young lady's aunt;
+and I am glad to see the friend of Amelius in my house." Before Rufus
+could answer, she turned to Regina. "I waited," she went on, "to give
+you an opportunity of explaining yourself to this gentleman. I am afraid
+he has mistaken your coldness of manner for intentional rudeness."
+
+The colour rushed back into Regina's face--she vibrated for a moment
+between anger and tears. But the better nature in her broke its way
+through the constitutional shyness and restraint which habitually kept
+it down. "I meant no harm, sir," she said, raising her large beautiful
+eyes submissively to Rufus; "I am not used to receiving strangers. And
+you did ask me some very strange questions," she added, with a sudden
+burst of self-assertion. "Strangers are not in the habit of saying
+such things in England." She looked at Mrs. Farnaby, listening with
+impenetrable composure, and stopped in confusion. Her aunt would not
+scruple to speak to the stranger about Amelius in her presence--there
+was no knowing what she might not have to endure. She turned again to
+Rufus. "Excuse me," she said, "if I leave you with my aunt--I have an
+engagement." With that trivial apology, she made her escape from the
+room.
+
+"She has no engagement," Mrs. Farnaby briefly remarked as the door
+closed. "Sit down, sir."
+
+For once, even Rufus was not as his ease. "I can hit it off, ma'am, with
+most people," he said. "I wonder what I've done to offend your niece?"
+
+"My niece (with many good qualities) is a narrow-minded young woman,"
+Mrs. Farnaby explained. "You are not like the men she is accustomed to
+see. She doesn't understand you--you are not a commonplace gentleman.
+For instance," Mrs. Farnaby continued, with the matter-of-fact gravity
+of a woman innately inaccessible to a sense of humour, "you have got
+something strange on your hair. It seems to be melting, and it
+smells like soap. No: it's no use taking out your handkerchief--your
+handkerchief won't mop it up. I'll get a towel." She opened an inner
+door, which disclosed a little passage, and a bath-room beyond it. "I'm
+the strongest person in the house," she resumed, returning with a towel
+in her hand, as gravely as ever. "Sit still, and don't make apologies.
+If any of us can rub you dry, I'm the woman." She set to work with the
+towel, as if she had been Rufus's mother, making him presentable in the
+days of his boyhood. Giddy under the violence of the rubbing, staggered
+by the contrast between the cold reception accorded to him by the niece,
+and the more than friendly welcome offered by the aunt, Rufus submitted
+to circumstances in docile and silent bewilderment. "There; you'll do
+till you get home--nobody can laugh at you now," Mrs. Farnaby announced.
+"You're an absent-minded man, I suppose? You wanted to wash your head,
+and you forgot the warm water and the towel. Was that how it happened,
+sir?"
+
+"I thank you with all my heart, ma'am; I took it for pomatum," Rufus
+answered. "Would you object to shaking hands again? This cordial welcome
+of yours reminds me, I do assure you, of home. Since I left New England,
+I've never met with the like of you. I do suppose now it was my hair
+that set Miss Regina's back up? I'm not quite easy in my mind, ma'am,
+about your niece. I'm sort of feared of what she may say of me to
+Amelius. I meant no harm, Lord knows."
+
+The secret of Mrs. Farnaby's extraordinary alacrity in the use of the
+towel began slowly to show itself now. The tone of her American guest
+had already become the friendly and familiar tone which it had been
+her object to establish. With a little management, he might be made an
+invaluable ally in the great work of hindering the marriage of Amelius.
+
+"You are very fond of your young friend?" she began quietly.
+
+"That is so, ma'am."
+
+"And he has told you that he has taken a liking to my niece?"
+
+"And shown me her likeness," Rufus added.
+
+"And shown you her likeness. And you thought you would come here, and
+see for yourself what sort of girl she was?"
+
+"Naturally," Rufus admitted.
+
+Mrs. Farnaby revealed, without further hesitation, the object that she
+had in view. "Amelius is little more than a lad, still," she said. "He
+has got all his life before him. It would be a sad thing, if he married
+a girl who didn't make him happy." She turned in her chair, and pointed
+to the door by which Regina had left them. "Between ourselves," she
+resumed, dropping her voice to a whisper, "do you believe my niece will
+make him happy?"
+
+Rufus hesitated.
+
+"I'm above family prejudices," Mrs. Farnaby proceeded. "You needn't be
+afraid of offending me. Speak out."
+
+Rufus would have spoken out to any other woman in the universe. _This_
+woman had preserved him from ridicule--_this_ woman had rubbed his head
+dry. He prevaricated.
+
+"I don't suppose I understand the ladies in this country," he said.
+
+But Mrs. Farnaby was not to be trifled with. "If Amelius was your son,
+and if he asked you to consent to his marriage with my niece," she
+rejoined, "would you say Yes?"
+
+This was too much for Rufus. "Not if he went down on both his knees to
+ask me," he answered.
+
+Mrs. Farnaby was satisfied at last, and owned it without reserve. "My
+own opinion," she said, "exactly expressed! don't be surprised. Didn't I
+tell you I had no family prejudices? Do you know if he has spoken to my
+husband, yet?"
+
+Rufus looked at his watch. "I reckon he's just about done it by this
+time."
+
+Mrs. Farnaby paused, and reflected for a moment. She had already
+attempted to prejudice her husband against Amelius, and had received
+an answer which Mr. Farnaby considered to be final. "Mr. Goldenheart
+honours us if he seeks our alliance; he is the representative of an old
+English family." Under these circumstances, it was quite possible that
+the proposals of Amelius had been accepted. Mrs. Farnaby was not the
+less determined that the marriage should never take place, and not the
+less eager to secure the assistance of her new ally. "When will Amelius
+tell you about it?" she asked.
+
+"When I go back to his lodgings, ma'am."
+
+"Go back at once--and bear this in mind as you go. If you can find out
+any likely way of parting these two young people (in their own best
+interests), depend on one thing--if I can help you, I will. I'm as fond
+of Amelius as you are. Ask him if I haven't done my best to keep him
+away from my niece. Ask him if I haven't expressed my opinion, that
+she's not the right wife for him. Come and see me again as soon as you
+like. I'm fond of Americans. Good morning."
+
+Rufus attempted to express his sense of gratitude, in his own briefly
+eloquent way. He was not allowed a hearing. With one and the same
+action, Mrs. Farnaby patted him on the shoulder, and pushed him out of
+the room.
+
+"If that woman was an American citizen," Rufus reflected, on his way
+through the streets, "she'd be the first female President of the
+United States!" His admiration of Mrs. Farnaby's energy and resolution,
+expressed in these strong terms, acknowledged but one limit. Highly as
+he approved of her, there was nevertheless an unfathomable something in
+the woman's eyes that disturbed and daunted him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 3
+
+Rufus found his friend at the lodgings, prostrate on the sofa, smoking
+furiously. Before a word had passed between them, it was plain to the
+New Englander that something had gone wrong.
+
+"Well," he asked; "and what does Farnaby say?"
+
+"Damn Farnaby!"
+
+Rufus was secretly conscious of an immense sense of relief. "I call
+that a stiff way of putting it," he quietly remarked; "but the meaning's
+clear. Farnaby has said No."
+
+Amelius jumped off the sofa, and planted himself defiantly on the
+hearthrug.
+
+"You're wrong for once," he said, with a bitter laugh. "The
+exasperating part of it is that Farnaby has said neither Yes nor No.
+The oily-whiskered brute--you haven't seen him yet, have you?--began
+by saying Yes. 'A man like me, the heir of a fine old English family,
+honoured him by making proposals; he could wish no more brilliant
+prospect for his dear adopted child. She would fill the high position
+that was offered to her, and fill it worthily.' That was the fawning
+way in which he talked to me at first! He squeezed my hand in his horrid
+cold shiny paw till, I give you my word of honour, I felt as if I was
+going to be sick. Wait a little; you haven't heard the worst of it
+yet. He soon altered his tone--it began with his asking me, if I had
+'considered the question of settlements'. I didn't know what he meant.
+He had to put it in plain English; he wanted to hear what my property
+was. 'Oh, that's soon settled,' I said. 'I've got five hundred a year;
+and Regina is welcome to every farthing of it.' He fell back in his
+chair as if I had shot him; he turned--it was worse than pale, he
+positively turned green. At first he wouldn't believe me; he declared I
+must be joking. I set him right about that immediately. His next change
+was a proud impudence. 'Have you not observed, sir, in what style Regina
+is accustomed to live in my house? Five hundred a year? Good heavens!
+With strict economy, five hundred a year might pay her milliner's bill
+and the keep of her horse and carriage. Who is to pay for everything
+else--the establishment, the dinner-parties and balls, the tour abroad,
+the children, the nurses, the doctor? I tell you this, Mr. Goldenheart,
+I'm willing to make a sacrifice to you, as a born gentleman, which I
+would certainly not consent to in the case of any self-made man. Enlarge
+your income, sir, to no more than four times five hundred pounds, and
+I guarantee a yearly allowance to Regina of half as much again, besides
+the fortune which she will inherit at my death. That will make your
+income three thousand a year to start with. I know something of domestic
+expenses, and I tell you positively, you can't do it on a farthing
+less.' That was his language, Rufus. The insolence of his tone I can't
+attempt to describe. If I hadn't thought of Regina, I should have
+behaved in a manner unworthy of a Christian--I believe I should have
+taken my walking-cane, and given him a sound thrashing."
+
+Rufus neither expressed surprise nor offered advice. He was lost in
+meditation on the wealth of Mr. Farnaby. "A stationer's business seems
+to eventuate in a lively profit, in this country," he said.
+
+"A stationer's business?" Amelius repeated disdainfully. "Farnaby has
+half a dozen irons in the fire besides that. He's got a newspaper, and a
+patent medicine, and a new bank, and I don't know what else. One of his
+own friends said to me, 'Nobody knows whether Farnaby is rich or poor;
+he is going to do one of two things--he is going to die worth millions,
+or to die bankrupt.' Oh, if I can only live to see the day when
+Socialism will put that sort of man in his right place!"
+
+"Try a republic, on our model, first," said Rufus. "When Farnaby talks
+of the style his young woman is accustomed to live in, what does he
+mean?"
+
+"He means," Amelius answered smartly, "a carriage to drive out in,
+champagne on the table, and a footman to answer the door."
+
+"Farnaby's ideas, sir, have crossed the water and landed in New York,"
+Rufus remarked. "Well, and what did you say to him, on your side?"
+
+"I gave it to him, I can tell you! 'That's all ostentation,' I said.
+'Why can't Regina and I begin life modestly? What do we want with a
+carriage to drive out in, and champagne on the table, and a footman
+to answer the door? We want to love each other and be happy. There
+are thousands of as good gentlemen as I am, in England, with wives
+and families, who would ask for nothing better than an income of five
+hundred a year. The fact is, Mr. Farnaby, you're positively saturated
+with the love of money. Get your New Testament and read what Christ
+says of rich people.' What do you think he did, when I put it in that
+unanswerable way? He held up his hand, and looked horrified. 'I can't
+allow profanity in my office,' says he. 'I have my New Testament read to
+me in church, sir, every Sunday.' That's the sort of Christian, Rufus,
+who is the average product of modern times! He was as obstinate as a
+mule; he wouldn't give way a single inch. His adopted daughter, he said,
+was accustomed to live in a certain style. In that same style she should
+live when she was married, so long as he had a voice in the matter.
+Of course, if she chose to set his wishes and feelings at defiance, in
+return for all that he had done for her, she was old enough to take her
+own way. In that case, he would tell me as plainly as he meant to tell
+her, that she must not look to a single farthing of his money to help
+her, and not expect to find her name down in his will. He felt the
+honour of a family alliance with me as sincerely as ever. But he must
+abide by the conditions that he had stated. On those terms, he would be
+proud to give me the hand of Regina at the altar, and proud to feel that
+he had done his duty by his adopted child. I let him go on till he had
+run himself out--and then I asked quietly, if he could tell me the
+way to increase my income to two thousand a year. How do you think he
+answered me?"
+
+"Perhaps he offered to utilise your capital in his business," Rufus
+guessed.
+
+"Not he! He considered business quite beneath me; my duty to myself,
+as a gentleman, was to adopt a profession. On reflection, it turned out
+that there was but one likely profession to try, in my case--the Law.
+I might be called to the Bar, and (with luck) I might get remunerative
+work to do, in eight or ten years' time. That, I declare to you, was the
+prospect he set before me, if I chose to take his advice. I asked if
+he was joking. Certainly not! I was only one-and-twenty years old (he
+reminded me); I had plenty of time to spare--I should still marry young
+if I married at thirty. I took up my hat, and gave him a bit of my mind
+at parting. 'If you really mean anything,' I said, 'you mean that Regina
+is to pine and fade and be a middle-aged woman, and that I am to resist
+the temptations that beset a young man in London, and lead the life of
+a monk for the next ten years--and all for what? For a carriage to ride
+out in, champagne on the table, and a footman to answer the door! Keep
+your money, Mr. Farnaby; Regina and I will do without it.'--What are
+you laughing at? I don't think you could have put it more strongly
+yourself."
+
+Rufus suddenly recovered his gravity. "I tell you this, Amelius,"
+he replied; "you afford (as we say in my country) meaty fruit for
+reflection--you do."
+
+"What do you mean by that?"
+
+"Well, I reckon you remember when we were aboard the boat. You gave us a
+narrative of what happened in that Community of yours, which I can truly
+cha_rac_terise as a combination of native eloquence and chastening
+good sense. I put the question to myself, sir, what has become of that
+well-informed and discreet young Christian, now he has changed the
+sphere to England and mixed with the Farnabys? It's not to be denied
+that I see him before me in the flesh when I look across the table here;
+but it's equally true that I miss him altogether, in the spirit."
+
+Amelius sat down again on the sofa. "In plain words," he said, "you
+think I have behaved like a fool in this matter?"
+
+Rufus crossed his long legs, and nodded his head in silent approval.
+Instead of taking offence, Amelius considered a little.
+
+"It didn't strike me before," he said. "But, now you mention it, I can
+understand that I appear to be a simple sort of fellow in what is called
+Society here; and the reason, I suspect, is that it's not the society in
+which I have been accustomed to mix. The Farnabys are new to me, Rufus.
+When it comes to a question of my life at Tadmor, of what I saw and
+learnt and felt in the Community--then, I can think and speak like a
+reasonable being, because I am thinking and speaking of what I know
+thoroughly well. Hang it, make some allowance for the difference of
+circumstances! Besides, I'm in love, and that alters a man--and, I have
+heard some people say, not always for the better. Anyhow, I've done it
+with Farnaby, and it can't be undone. There will be no peace for me now,
+till I have spoken to Regina. I have read the note you left for me. Did
+you see her, when you called at the house?"
+
+The quiet tone in which the question was put surprised Rufus. He had
+fully expected, after Regina's reception of him, to be called to account
+for the liberty that he had taken. Amelius was too completely absorbed
+by his present anxieties to consider trivial questions of etiquette.
+Hearing that Rufus had seen Regina, he never even asked for his friend's
+opinion of her. His mind was full of the obstacles that might be
+interposed to his seeing her again.
+
+"Farnaby is sure, after what has passed between us, to keep her out
+of my way if he can," Amelius said. "And Mrs. Farnaby, to my certain
+knowledge, will help him. They don't suspect _you._ Couldn't you call
+again--you're old enough to be her father--and make some excuse to take
+her out with you for a walk?"
+
+The answer of Rufus to this was Roman in its brevity. He pointed to the
+window, and said, "Look at the rain."
+
+"Then I must try her maid once more," said Amelius, resignedly. He took
+his hat and umbrella. "Don't leave me, old fellow," he resumed as he
+opened the door. "This is the turning-point of my life. I'm sorely in
+need of a friend."
+
+"Do you think she will marry you against the will of her uncle and
+aunt?" Rufus asked.
+
+"I am certain of it," Amelius answered. With that he left the room.
+
+Rufus looked after him sadly. Sympathy and sorrow were expressed in
+every line of his rugged face. "My poor boy! how will he bear it, if she
+says No? What will become of him, if she says Yes?" He rubbed his
+hand irritably across his forehead, like a man whose own thoughts were
+repellent to him. In a moment more, he plunged into his pockets, and
+drew out again the letters introducing him to the secretaries of public
+institutions. "If there's salvation for Amelius," he said, "I reckon I
+shall find it here."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 4
+
+The medium of correspondence between Amelius and Regina's maid was an
+old woman who kept a shop for the sale of newspapers and periodicals,
+in a by-street not far from Mr. Farnaby's house. From this place
+his letters were delivered to the maid, under cover of the morning
+newspapers--and here he found the answers waiting for him later in the
+day. "If Rufus could only have taken her out for a walk, I might have
+seen Regina this afternoon," thought Amelius. "As it is, I may have to
+wait till to-morrow, or later still. And then, there's the sovereign to
+Phoebe." He sighed as he thought of the fee. Sovereigns were becoming
+scarce in our young Socialist's purse.
+
+Arriving in sight of the newsvendor's shop, Amelius noticed a man
+leaving it, who walked away towards the farther end of the street. When
+he entered the shop himself a minute afterwards, the woman took up a
+letter from the counter. "A young man has just left this for you," she
+said.
+
+Amelius recognised the maid's handwriting on the address. The man whom
+he had seen leaving the shop was Phoebe's messenger.
+
+He opened the letter. Her mistress, Phoebe explained, was too much
+flurried to be able to write. The master had astonished the whole
+household by appearing among them at least three hours before the time
+at which he was accustomed to leave his place of business. He had found
+"Mrs. Ormond" (otherwise Regina's friend and correspondent, Cecilia)
+paying a visit to his niece, and had asked to speak with her in private,
+before she took leave. The result was an invitation to Regina, from Mrs.
+Ormond, to stay for a little while at her house in the neighbourhood
+of Harrow. The ladies were to leave London together, in Mrs. Ormond's
+carriage, that afternoon. Under stress of strong persuasion, on the part
+of her uncle and aunt as well as her friend, Regina had ended in giving
+way. But she had not forgotten the interests of Amelius. She was willing
+to see him privately on the next day, provided he left London by the
+train which reached Harrow soon after eleven in the forenoon. If it
+happened to rain, then he must put off his journey until the first fine
+day, arriving in any case at the same hour. The place at which he was to
+wait was described to him; and with these instructions the letter ended.
+
+The rapidity with which Mr. Farnaby had carried out his resolution to
+separate the lovers placed the weakness of Regina's character before
+Amelius in a new and startling light. Why had she not stood on her
+privileges, as a woman who had arrived at years of discretion, and
+refused to leave London until she had first heard what her lover had to
+say? Amelius had left his American friend, feeling sure that Regina's
+decision would be in his favour, when she was called upon to choose
+between the man who was ready to marry her, and the man who was nothing
+but her uncle by courtesy. For the first time, he now felt that his
+own confident anticipations might, by bare possibility, deceive him.
+He returned to his lodgings, in such a state of depression, that
+compassionate Rufus insisted on taking him out to dinner, and hurried
+him off afterwards to the play. Thoroughly prostrated, Amelius submitted
+to the genial influence of his friend. He had not even energy enough
+to feel surprised when Rufus stopped, on their way to the tavern, at a
+dingy building adorned with a Grecian portico, and left a letter and a
+card in charge of a servant at the side-door.
+
+The next day, by a happy interposition of Fortune, proved to be a day
+without rain. Amelius followed his instructions to the letter. A little
+watery sunshine showed itself as he left the station at Harrow. His mind
+was still in such a state of doubt and disturbance that it drew from
+superstition a faint encouragement to hope. He hailed the feeble
+November sunlight as a good omen.
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Ormond's place of residence stood alone, surrounded by its
+own grounds. A wooden fence separated the property, on one side, from a
+muddy little by-road, leading to a neighbouring farm. At a wicket-gate
+in this fence, giving admission to a shrubbery situated at some distance
+from the house, Amelius now waited for the appearance of the maid.
+
+After a delay of a few minutes only, the faithful Phoebe approached the
+gate with a key in her hand. "Where is she?" Amelius asked, as the girl
+opened the gate for him.
+
+"Waiting for you in the shrubbery. Stop, sir; I have something to say to
+you first."
+
+Amelius took out his purse, and produced the fee. Even he had observed
+that Phoebe was perhaps a little too eager to get her money!
+
+"Thank you, sir. Please to look at your watch. You mustn't be with Miss
+Regina a moment longer than a quarter of an hour."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"This is the time, sir, when Mrs. Ormond is engaged every day with
+her cook and housekeeper. In a quarter of an hour the orders will be
+given--and Mrs. Ormond will join Miss Regina for a walk in the grounds.
+You will be the ruin of me, sir, if she finds you here." With that
+warning, the maid led the way along the winding paths of the shrubbery.
+
+"I must thank you for your letter, Phoebe," said Amelius, as he followed
+her. "By-the-by, who was your messenger?"
+
+Phoebe's answer was no answer at all. "Only a young man, sir," she said.
+
+"In plain words, your sweetheart, I suppose?"
+
+Phoebe's expressive silence was her only reply. She turned a corner, and
+pointed to her mistress standing alone before the entrance of a damp and
+deserted summer-house.
+
+Regina put her handkerchief to her eyes, when the maid had discreetly
+retired. "Oh," she said softly, "I am afraid this is very wrong."
+
+Amelius removed the handkerchief by the exercise of a little gentle
+force, and administered comfort under the form of a kiss. Having opened
+the proceedings in this way, he put his first question, "Why did you
+leave London?"
+
+"How could I help it!" said Regina, feebly. "They were all against me.
+What else could I do?"
+
+It occurred to Amelius that she might, at her age, have asserted a will
+of her own. He kept his idea, however, to himself, and, giving her his
+arm, led her slowly along the path of the shrubbery. "You have heard, I
+suppose, what Mr. Farnaby expects of me?" he said.
+
+"Yes, dear."
+
+_"I_ call it worse than mercenary--I call it downright brutal."
+
+"Oh, Amelius, don't talk so!"
+
+Amelius came suddenly to a standstill. "Does that mean you agree with
+him?" he asked.
+
+"Don't be angry with me, dear. I only meant there was some excuse for
+him."
+
+"What excuse?"
+
+"Well, you see, he has a high idea of your family, and he thought you
+were rich people. And--I know you didn't mean it, Amelius--but, still,
+you did disappoint him."
+
+Amelius dropped her arm. This mildly-persistent defence of Mr. Farnaby
+exasperated him.
+
+"Perhaps I have disappointed _you?"_ he said.
+
+ "Oh, no, no! Oh, how cruel you are!" The ready tears showed themselves
+again in her magnificent eyes--gentle considerate tears that raised
+no storm in her bosom, and produced no unbecoming results in her face.
+"Don't be hard on me!" she said, appealing to him helplessly, like a
+charming overgrown child.
+
+Some men might have still resisted her; but Amelius was not one of them.
+He took her hand, and pressed it tenderly.
+
+"Regina," he said, "do you love me?"
+
+"You know I do!"
+
+He put his arm round her waist, he concentrated the passion that was in
+him into a look, and poured the look into her eyes. "Do you love me as
+dearly as I love you?" he whispered.
+
+She felt it with all the little passion that was in her. After a moment
+of hesitation, she put one arm timidly round his neck, and, bending her
+grand head, laid it on his bosom. Her finely-rounded, supple, muscular
+figure trembled, as if she had been the most fragile woman living. "Dear
+Amelius!" she murmured inaudibly. He tried to speak to her--his voice
+failed him. She had, in perfect innocence, fired his young blood. He
+drew her closer and closer to him: he lifted her head, with a masterful
+resolution which she was not able to resist, and pressed his kisses in
+hot and breathless succession on her lips. His vehemence frightened her.
+She tore herself out of his arms with a sudden exertion of strength that
+took him completely by surprise. "I didn't think you would have been
+rude to me!" With that mild reproach, she turned away, and took the
+path which led from the shrubbery to the house. Amelius followed her,
+entreating that she would accept his excuses and grant him a few minutes
+more. He modestly laid all the blame on her beauty--lamented that he
+had not resolution enough to resist the charm of it. When did that
+commonplace compliment ever fail to produce its effect? Regina smiled
+with the weakly complacent good-nature, which was only saved from being
+contemptible by its association with her personal attractions. "Will
+you promise to behave?" she stipulated. And Amelius, not very eagerly,
+promised.
+
+"Shall we go into the summer-house?" he suggested.
+
+"It's very damp at this time of year," Regina answered, with placid good
+sense. "Perhaps we might catch cold--we had better walk about."
+
+They walked accordingly. "I wanted to speak to you about our marriage,"
+Amelius resumed.
+
+She sighed softly. "We have some time to wait," she said, "before we can
+think of that."
+
+He passed this reply over without notice. "You know," he went on, "that
+I have an income of five hundred a year?"
+
+"Yes, dear."
+
+"There are hundreds of thousands of respectable artisans, Regina, (with
+large families), who live comfortably on less than half my income."
+
+"Do they, dear?"
+
+"And many gentlemen are not better off. Curates, for instance. Do you
+see what I am coming to, my darling?"
+
+"No, dear."
+
+"Could you live with me in a cottage in the country, with a nice garden,
+and one little maid to wait on us, and two or three new dresses in a
+year?"
+
+Regina lifted her fine eyes in sober ecstasy to the sky. "It sounds very
+tempting," she remarked, in the sweetest tones of her voice.
+
+"And it could all be done," Amelius proceeded, "on five hundred a year."
+
+"Could it, dear?"
+
+"I have calculated it--allowing the necessary margin--and I am sure
+of what I say. And I have done something else; I have asked about the
+Marriage License. I can easily find lodgings in the neighbourhood. We
+might be married at Harrow in a fortnight."
+
+Regina started: her eyes opened widely, and rested on Amelius with
+an expression of incredulous wonder. "Married in a fortnight?" she
+repeated. "What would my uncle and aunt say?"
+
+"My angel, our happiness doesn't depend on your uncle and aunt--our
+happiness depends on ourselves. Nobody has any power to control us. I am
+a man, and you are a woman; and we have a right to be married whenever
+we like." Amelius pronounced this last oracular sentence with his head
+held high, and a pleasant inner persuasion of the convincing manner in
+which he had stated his case.
+
+"Without my uncle to give me away!" Regina exclaimed. "Without my aunt!
+With no bridesmaids, and no friends, and no wedding-breakfast! Oh,
+Amelius, what _can_ you be thinking of?" She drew back a step, and
+looked at him in helpless consternation.
+
+For the moment, and the moment only, Amelius lost all patience with her.
+"If you really loved me," he said bitterly, "you wouldn't think of
+the bridesmaids and the breakfast!" Regina had her answer ready in her
+pocket--she took out her handkerchief. Before she could lift it to
+her eyes, Amelius recovered himself. "No, no," he said, "I didn't mean
+that--I am sure you love me--take my arm again. Do you know, Regina, I
+doubt whether your uncle has told you everything that passed between us.
+Are you really aware of the hard terms that he insists on? He expects
+me to increase my five hundred a year to two thousand, before he will
+sanction our marriage."
+
+"Yes, dear, he told me that."
+
+"I have as much chance of earning fifteen hundred a year, Regina, as I
+have of being made King of England. Did he tell you _that?"_
+
+"He doesn't agree with you, dear--he thinks you might earn it (with your
+abilities) in ten years."
+
+This time it was the turn of Amelius to look at Regina in helpless
+consternation. "Ten years?" he repeated. "Do you coolly contemplate
+waiting ten years before we are married? Good heavens! is it possible
+that you are thinking of the money? that _you_ can't live without
+carriages and footmen, and ostentation and grandeur--?"
+
+He stopped. For once, even Regina showed that she had spirit enough to
+be angry. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself to speak to me in that
+way!" she broke out indignantly. "If you have no better opinion of me
+than that, I won't marry you at all--no, not if you had fifty thousand a
+year, sir, to-morrow! Am I to have no sense of duty to my uncle--to
+the good man who has been a second father to me? Do you think I am
+ungrateful enough to set his wishes at defiance? Oh yes, I know you
+don't like him! I know that a great many people don't like him. That
+doesn't make any difference to Me! But for dear uncle Farnaby, I might
+have gone to the workhouse, I might have been a starving needlewoman, a
+poor persecuted maid-of-all-work. Am I to forget that, because you have
+no patience, and only think of yourself? Oh, I wish I had never met with
+you! I wish I had never been fool enough to be as fond of you as I am!"
+With that confession, she turned her back on him, and took refuge in her
+handkerchief once more.
+
+Amelius stood looking at her in silent despair. After the tone in
+which she had spoken of her obligations to her uncle, it was useless to
+anticipate any satisfactory result from the exertion of his influence
+over Regina. Recalling what he had seen and heard, in Mrs. Farnaby's
+room, Amelius could not doubt that the motive of pacifying his wife was
+the motive which had first led Farnaby to receive Regina into his house.
+Was it unreasonable or unjust to infer, that the orphan child must have
+been mainly indebted to Mrs. Farnaby's sense of duty to the memory of
+her sister for the parental protection afforded to her, from that time
+forth? It would have been useless, and worse than useless, to place
+before Regina such considerations as these. Her exaggerated idea of the
+gratitude that she owed to her uncle was beyond the limited reach of
+reason. Nothing was to be gained by opposition; and no sensible course
+was left but to say some peace-making words and submit.
+
+"I beg your pardon, Regina, if I have offended you. You have sadly
+disappointed me. I haven't deliberately misjudged you; I can say no
+more."
+
+She turned round quickly, and looked at him. There was an ominous
+change to resignation in his voice, there was a dogged submission in
+his manner, that alarmed her. She had never yet seen him under the
+perilously-patient aspect in which he now presented himself, after his
+apology had been made.
+
+"I forgive you, Amelius, with all my heart," she said--and timidly held
+out her hand.
+
+He took it, raised it silently to his lips, and dropped it again.
+
+She suddenly turned pale. All the love that she had in her to give to
+a man, she had given to Amelius. Her heart sank; she asked herself, in
+blank terror, if she had lost him.
+
+"I am afraid it is _I_ who have offended _you,"_ she said. "Don't be
+angry with me, Amelius! don't make me more unhappy than I am!"
+
+"I am not in the least angry," he answered, still in the quiet subdued
+way that terrified her. "You can't expect me, Regina, to contemplate a
+ten years' engagement cheerfully."
+
+She took his hand, and held it in both her own hands--held it, as if his
+love for her was there and she was determined not to let it go.
+
+"If you will only leave it to me," she pleaded, "the engagement shan't
+be so long as that. Try my uncle with a little kindness and respect,
+Amelius, instead of saying hard words to him. Or let _me_ try him, if
+you are too proud to give way. May I say that you had no intention of
+offending him, and that you are willing to leave the future to me?"
+
+"Certainly," said Amelius, "if you think it will be of the slightest
+use." His tone added plainly, "I don't believe in your uncle, mind, as
+you do."
+
+She still persisted. "It will be of the greatest use," she went on. "He
+will let me go home again, and he will not object to your coming to see
+me. He doesn't like to be despised and set at defiance--who does? Be
+patient, Amelius; and I will persuade him to expect less money from
+you--only what you may earn, dear, with your talents, long before ten
+years have passed." She waited for a word of reply which might show that
+she had encouraged him a little. He only smiled. "You talk of loving
+me," she said, drawing back from him with a look of reproach; "and you
+don't even believe what I say to you." She stopped, and looked behind
+her with a faint cry of alarm. Hurried footsteps were audible on the
+other side of the evergreens that screened them. Amelius stepped back to
+a turn in the path, and discovered Phoebe.
+
+"Don't stay a moment longer, sir!" cried the girl. "I've been to the
+house--and Mrs. Ormond isn't there--and nobody knows where she is. Get
+out by the gate, sir, while you have the chance."
+
+Amelius returned to Regina. "I mustn't get the girl into a scrape," he
+said. "You know where to write to me. Good-bye."
+
+Regina made a sign to the maid to retire. Amelius had never taken leave
+of her as he was taking leave of her now. She forgot the fervent embrace
+and the daring kisses--she was desperate at the bare idea of losing him.
+"Oh, Amelius, don't doubt that I love you! Say you believe I love you!
+Kiss me before you go!"
+
+He kissed her--but, ah, not as he had kissed her before. He said the
+words she wanted him to say--but only to please her, not with all his
+heart. She let him go; reproaches would be wasted at that moment.
+
+Phoebe found her pale and immovable, rooted to the spot on which they
+had parted. "Dear, dear me, miss, what's gone wrong?"
+
+And her mistress answered wildly, in words that had never before passed
+her placid lips, "O Phoebe, I wish I was dead!"
+
+
+Such was the impression left on the mind of Regina by the interview in
+the shrubbery.
+
+The impression left on the mind of Amelius was stated in equally strong
+language, later in the day. His American friend asked innocently for
+news, and was answered in these terms:
+
+"Find something to occupy my mind, Rufus, or I shall throw the whole
+thing over and go to the devil."
+
+The wise man from New England was too wise to trouble Amelius with
+questions, under these circumstances. "Is that so?" was all he said.
+Then he put his hand in his pocket, and, producing a letter, laid it
+quietly on the table.
+
+"For me?" Amelius asked.
+
+"You wanted something to occupy your mind," the wily Rufus answered.
+"There 'tis."
+
+Amelius read the letter. It was dated, "Hampden Institution." The
+secretary invited Amelius, in highly complimentary terms, to lecture,
+in the hall of the Institution, on Christian Socialism as taught and
+practised in the Community at Tadmor. He was offered two-thirds of the
+profits derived from the sale of places, and was left free to
+appoint his own evening (at a week's notice) and to issue his own
+advertisements. Minor details were reserved to be discussed with the
+secretary, when the lecturer had consented to the arrangement proposed
+to him.
+
+Having finished the letter, Amelius looked at his friend. "This is your
+doing," he said.
+
+Rufus admitted it, with his customary candour. He had a letter of
+introduction to the secretary, and he had called by appointment that
+morning. The Institution wanted something new to attract the members
+and the public. Having no present intention of lecturing himself, he
+had thought of Amelius, and had spoken his thought. "I mentioned," Rufus
+added slyly, "that I didn't reckon you would mount the platform. But
+he's a sanguine creature, that secretary--and he said he'd try."
+
+"Why should I say No?" Amelius asked, a little irritably. "The secretary
+pays me a compliment, and offers me an opportunity of spreading
+our principles. Perhaps," he added, more quietly, after a moment's
+reflection, "you thought I might not be equal to the occasion--and, in
+that case, I don't say you were wrong."
+
+Rufus shook his head. "If you had passed your life in this decrepit
+little island," he replied, "I might have doubted you, likely enough.
+But Tadmor's situated in the United States. If they don't practise
+the boys in the art of orating, don't you tell me there's an American
+citizen with a voice in _that_ society. Guess again, my son. You won't?
+Well, then, 'twas uncle Farnaby I had in my mind. I said to myself--not
+to the secretary--Amelius is bound to consider uncle Farnaby. Oh, my!
+what would uncle Farnaby say?"
+
+The hot temper of Amelius took fire instantly. "What the devil do I care
+for Farnaby's opinions?" he burst out. "If there's a man in England who
+wants the principles of Christian Socialism beaten into his thick head,
+it's Farnaby. Are you going to see the secretary again?"
+
+"I might look in," Rufus answered, "in the course of the evening."
+
+"Tell him I'll give the lecture--with my compliments and thanks. If I
+can only succeed," pursued Amelius, hearing himself with the new idea,
+"I may make a name as a lecturer, and a name means money, and money
+means beating Farnaby with his own weapons. It's an opening for me,
+Rufus, at the crisis of my life."
+
+"That is so," Rufus admitted. "I may as well look up the secretary."
+
+"Why shouldn't I go with you?" Amelius suggested.
+
+"Why not?" Rufus agreed.
+
+They left the house together.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK THE FIFTH. THE FATAL LECTURE
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 1
+
+Late that night Amelius sat alone in his room, making notes for the
+lecture which he had now formally engaged himself to deliver in a week's
+time.
+
+Thanks to his American education (as Rufus had supposed), he had not
+been without practice in the art of public speaking. He had learnt to
+face his fellow-creatures in the act of oratory, and to hear the sound
+of his own voice in a silent assembly, without trembling from head to
+foot. English newspapers were regularly sent to Tadmor, and English
+politics were frequently discussed in the little parliament of the
+Community. The prospect of addressing a new audience, with their
+sympathies probably against him at the outset, had its terrors
+undoubtedly. But the more formidable consideration, to the mind of
+Amelius, was presented by the limits imposed on him in the matter of
+time. The lecture was to be succeeded (at the request of a clerical
+member of the Institution) by a public discussion; and the secretary's
+experience suggested that the lecturer would do well to reduce his
+address within the compass of an hour. "Socialism is a large subject
+to be squeezed into that small space," Amelius had objected. And the
+secretary sighed, and answered, "They won't listen any longer."
+
+Making notes, from time to time, of the points on which it was most
+desirable to insist, and on the relative positions which they should
+occupy in his lecture, the memory of Amelius became more and more
+absorbed in recalling the scenes in which his early life had been
+passed.
+
+He laid down his pen, as the clock of the nearest church struck the
+first dark hour of the morning, and let his thoughts take him back
+again, without interruption or restraint, to the hills and vales of
+Tadmor. Once more the kind old Elder Brother taught him the noble
+lessons of Christianity as they came from the inspired Teacher's own
+lips; once more he took his turn of healthy work in the garden and the
+field; once more the voices of his companions joined with him in the
+evening songs, and the timid little figure of Mellicent stood at his
+side, content to hold the music-book and listen. How poor, how corrupt,
+did the life look that he was leading now, by comparison with the life
+that he had led in those earlier and happier days! How shamefully he had
+forgotten the simple precepts of Christian humility, Christian sympathy,
+and Christian self-restraint, in which his teachers had trusted as the
+safeguards that were to preserve him from the foul contact of the world!
+Within the last two days only, he had refused to make merciful allowance
+for the errors of a man, whose life had been wasted in the sordid
+struggle upward from poverty to wealth. And, worse yet, he had cruelly
+distressed the poor girl who loved him, at the prompting of those
+selfish passions which it was his first and foremost duty to restrain.
+The bare remembrance of it was unendurable to him, in his present frame
+of mind. With his customary impetuosity, he snatched up the pen, to make
+atonement before he went to rest that night. He wrote in few words to
+Mr. Farnaby, declaring that he regretted having spoken impatiently and
+contemptuously at the interview between them, and expressing the hope
+that their experience of each other, in the time to come, might perhaps
+lead to acceptable concessions on either side. His letter to Regina
+was written, it is needless to say, in warmer terms and at much greater
+length: it was the honest outpouring of his love and his penitence. When
+the letters were safe in their envelopes he was not satisfied, even yet.
+No matter what the hour might be, there was no ease of mind for Amelius,
+until he had actually posted his letters. He stole downstairs, and
+softly unbolted the door, and hurried away to the nearest letter-box.
+When he had let himself in again with his latch-key, his mind was
+relieved at last. "Now," he thought, as he lit his bed-room candle, "I
+can go to sleep!"
+
+A visit from Rufus was the first event of the day.
+
+The two set to work together to draw out the necessary advertisement
+of the lecture. It was well calculated to attract attention in certain
+quarters. The announcement addressed itself, in capital letters, to all
+honest people who were poor and discontented. "Come, and hear the remedy
+which Christian Socialism provides for your troubles, explained to you
+by a friend and a brother; and pay no more than sixpence for the
+place that you occupy." The necessary information as to time and place
+followed this appeal; including the offer of reserved seats at higher
+prices. By advice of the secretary, the advertisement was not sent
+to any journal having its circulation among the wealthier classes of
+society. It appeared prominently in one daily paper and in two weekly
+papers; the three possessing an aggregate sale of four hundred thousand
+copies. "Assume only five readers to each copy," cried sanguine Amelius,
+"and we appeal to an audience of two millions. What a magnificent
+publicity!"
+
+There was one inevitable result of magnificent publicity which Amelius
+failed to consider. His advertisements were certain to bring people
+together, who might otherwise never have met in the great world of
+London, under one roof. All over England, Scotland, and Ireland,
+he invited unknown guests to pass the evening with him. In such
+circumstances, recognitions may take place between persons who have lost
+sight of each other for years; conversations may be held, which might
+otherwise never have been exchanged; and results may follow, for which
+the hero of the evening may be innocently responsible, because two or
+three among his audience happen to be sitting to hear him on the
+same bench. A man who opens his doors, and invites the public
+indiscriminately to come in, runs the risk of playing with inflammable
+materials, and can never be sure at what time or in what direction they
+may explode.
+
+Rufus himself took the fair copies of the advertisement to the nearest
+agent. Amelius stayed at home to think over his lecture.
+
+He was interrupted by the arrival of Mr. Farnaby's answer to his letter.
+The man of the oily whiskers wrote courteously and guardedly. He was
+evidently flattered and pleased by the advance that had been made to
+him; and he was quite willing "under the circumstances" to give the
+lovers opportunities of meeting at his house. At the same time, he
+limited the number of the opportunities. "Once a week, for the present,
+my dear sir. Regina will doubtless write to you, when she returns to
+London."
+
+Regina wrote, by return of post. The next morning Amelius received a
+letter from her which enchanted him. She had never loved him as she
+loved him now; she longed to see him again; she had prevailed on Mrs.
+Ormond to let her shorten her visit, and to intercede for her with
+the authorities at home. They were to return together to London on the
+afternoon of the next day. Amelius would be sure to find her, if he
+arranged to call in time for five-o'clock tea.
+
+Towards four o'clock on the next day, while Amelius was putting the
+finishing touches to his dress, he was informed that "a young
+person wished to see him." The visitor proved to be Phoebe, with her
+handkerchief to her eyes; indulging in grief, in humble imitation of her
+young mistress's gentle method of proceeding on similar occasions.
+
+"Good God!" cried Amelius, "has anything happened to Regina?"
+
+"No, sir," Phoebe murmured behind the handkerchief. "Miss Regina is at
+home, and well."
+
+"Then what are you crying about?"
+
+Phoebe forgot her mistress's gentle method. She answered, with an
+explosion of sobs, "I'm ruined, sir!"
+
+"What do you mean by being ruined? Who's done it?"
+
+"You've done it, sir!"
+
+Amelius started. His relations with Phoebe had been purely and entirely
+of the pecuniary sort. She was a showy, pretty girl, with a smart
+little figure--but with some undeniably bad lines, which only observant
+physiognomists remarked, about her eyebrows and her mouth. Amelius was
+not a physiognomist; but he was in love with Regina, which at his age
+implied faithful love. It is only men over forty who can court the
+mistress, with reserves of admiration to spare for the maid.
+
+"Sit down," said Amelius; "and tell me in two words what you mean."
+
+Phoebe sat down, and dried her eyes. "I have been infamously treated,
+sir, by Mrs. Farnaby," she began--and stopped, overpowered by the bare
+remembrance of her wrongs. She was angry enough, at that moment, to be
+off her guard. The vindictive nature that was in the girl found its way
+outward, and showed itself in her face. Amelius perceived the change,
+and began to doubt whether Phoebe was quite worthy of the place which
+she had hitherto held in his estimation.
+
+"Surely there must be some mistake," he said. "What opportunity has Mrs.
+Farnaby had of ill-treating you? You have only just got back to London."
+
+"I beg your pardon, sir, we got back sooner than we expected. Mrs.
+Ormond had business in town: and she left Miss Regina at her own door,
+nearly two hours since."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Well, sir, I had hardly taken off my bonnet and shawl, when I was sent
+for by Mrs. Farnaby. 'Have you unpacked your box yet?' says she. I
+told her I hadn't had time to do so. 'You needn't trouble yourself to
+unpack,' says she. 'You are no longer in Miss Regina's service. There
+are your wages--with a month's wages besides, in place of the customary
+warning.' I'm only a poor girl, sir, but I up and spoke to her as plain
+as she spoke to me. 'I want to know,' I says, 'why I am sent away in
+this uncivil manner?' I couldn't possibly repeat what she said. My blood
+boils when I think of it," Phoebe declared, with melodramatic vehemence.
+"Somebody has found us out, sir. Somebody has told Mrs. Farnaby of your
+private meeting with Miss Regina in the shrubbery, and the money you
+kindly gave me. I believe Mrs. Ormond is at the bottom of it; you
+remember nobody knew where she was, when I thought she was in the
+house speaking to the cook. That's guess-work, I allow, so far. What is
+certain is, that I have been spoken to as if I was the lowest creature
+that walks the streets. Mrs. Farnaby refuses to give me a character,
+sir. She actually said she would call in the police, if I didn't leave
+the house in half an hour. How am I to get another place, without a
+character? I'm a ruined girl, that's what I am--and all through You!"
+
+Threatened at this point with an illustrative outburst of sobbing
+Amelius was simple enough to try the consoling influence of a sovereign.
+"Why don't you speak to Miss Regina?" he asked. "You know she will help
+you."
+
+"She has done all she can, sir. I have nothing to say against Miss
+Regina--she's a good creature. She came into the room, and begged, and
+prayed, and took all the blame on herself. Mrs. Farnaby wouldn't hear
+a word. 'I'm mistress here,' she says; 'you had better go back to your
+room.' Ah, Mr. Amelius, I can tell you Mrs. Farnaby is your enemy as
+well as mine! you'll never marry her niece if _she_ can stop it. Mark my
+words, sir, that's the secret of the vile manner in which she has used
+me. My conscience is clear, thank God. I've tried to serve the cause of
+true love--and I'm not ashamed of it. Never mind! my turn is to come.
+I'm only a poor servant, sent adrift in the world without a character.
+Wait a little! you see if I am not even (and better than even) with Mrs.
+Farnaby, before long! _I know what I know._ I am not going to say any
+more than that. She shall rue the day," cried Phoebe, relapsing into
+melodrama again, "when she turned me out of the house like a thief!"
+
+"Come! come!" said Amelius, sharply, "you mustn't speak in that way."
+
+Phoebe had got her money: she could afford to be independent. She
+rose from her chair. The insolence which is the almost invariable
+accompaniment of a sense of injury among Englishwomen of her class
+expressed itself in her answer to Amelius. "I speak as I think, sir. I
+have some spirit in me; I am not a woman to be trodden underfoot--and so
+Mrs. Farnaby shall find, before she is many days older."
+
+"Phoebe! Phoebe! you are talking like a heathen. If Mrs. Farnaby has
+behaved to you with unjust severity, set her an example of moderation on
+your side. It's your duty as a Christian to forgive injuries."
+
+Phoebe burst out laughing. "Hee-hee-hee! Thank you, sir, for a sermon
+as well as a sovereign. You have been most kind, indeed!" She changed
+suddenly from irony to anger. "I never was called a heathen before!
+Considering what I have done for you, I think you might at least have
+been civil. Good afternoon, sir." She lifted her saucy little snub-nose,
+and walked with dignity out of the room.
+
+For the moment, Amelius was amused. As he heard the house-door closed,
+he turned laughing to the window, for a last look at Phoebe in the
+character of an injured Christian. In an instant the smile left his
+lips--he drew back from the window with a start.
+
+A man had been waiting for Phoebe, in the street. At the moment when
+Amelius looked out, she had just taken his arm. He glanced back at the
+house, as they walked away together. Amelius immediately recognised,
+in Phoebe's companion (and sweetheart), a vagabond Irishman, nicknamed
+Jervy, whose face he had last seen at Tadmor. Employed as one of
+the agents of the Community in transacting their business with the
+neighbouring town, he had been dismissed for misconduct, and had been
+unwisely taken back again, at the intercession of a respectable person
+who believed in his promises of amendment. Amelius had suspected this
+man of being the spy who officiously informed against Mellicent and
+himself, but having discovered no evidence to justify his suspicions, he
+had remained silent on the subject. It was now quite plain to him
+that Jervy's appearance in London could only be attributed to a
+second dismissal from the service of the Community, for some offence
+sufficiently serious to oblige him to take refuge in England. A more
+disreputable person it was hardly possible for Phoebe to have
+become acquainted with. In her present vindictive mood, he would be
+emphatically a dangerous companion and counsellor. Amelius felt this so
+strongly, that he determined to follow them, on the chance of finding
+out where Jervy lived. Unhappily, he had only arrived at this resolution
+after a lapse of a minute or two. He ran into the street but it was too
+late; not a trace of them was to be discovered. Pursuing his way to Mr.
+Farnaby's house, he decided on mentioning what had happened to Regina.
+Her aunt had not acted wisely in refusing to let the maid refer to her
+for a character. She would do well to set herself right with Phoebe, in
+this particular, before it was too late.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 2
+
+Mrs. Farnaby stood at the door of her own room, and looked at her niece
+with an air of contemptuous curiosity.
+
+"Well? You and your lover have had a fine time of it together, I
+suppose? What do you want here?"
+
+"Amelius wishes particularly to speak to you, aunt."
+
+"Tell him to save himself the trouble. He may reconcile your uncle to
+his marriage--he won't reconcile Me."
+
+"It's not about that, aunt; it's about Phoebe."
+
+"Does he want me to take Phoebe back again?"
+
+At that moment Amelius appeared in the hall, and answered the question
+himself. "I want to give you a word of warning," he said.
+
+Mrs. Farnaby smiled grimly. "That excites my curiosity," she replied.
+"Come in. I don't want _you,"_ she added, dismissing her niece at the
+door. "So you're willing to wait ten years for Regina?" she continued,
+when Amelius was alone with her. "I'm disappointed in you; you're a poor
+weak creature, after all. What about that young hussy, Phoebe?"
+
+Amelius told her unreservedly all that had passed between the discarded
+maid and himself, not forgetting, before he concluded, to caution her on
+the subject of the maid's companion. "I don't know what that man may
+not do to mislead Phoebe," he said. "If I were you, I wouldn't drive her
+into a corner."
+
+Mrs. Farnaby eyed him scornfully from head to foot. "You used to have
+the spirit of a man in you," she answered. "Keeping company with Regina
+has made you a milksop already. If you want to know what I think of
+Phoebe and her sweetheart--" she stopped, and snapped her fingers.
+"There!" she said, "that's what I think! Now go back to Regina. I can
+tell you one thing--she will never be your wife."
+
+Amelius looked at her in quiet surprise. "It seems odd," he remarked,
+"that you should treat me as you do, after what you said to me, the last
+time I was in this room. You expect me to help you in the dearest wish
+of your life--and you do everything you can to thwart the dearest wish
+of _my_ life. A man can't keep his temper under continual provocation.
+Suppose I refuse to help you?"
+
+Mrs. Farnaby looked at him with the most exasperating composure. "I defy
+you to do it," she answered.
+
+"You defy me to do it!" Amelius exclaimed.
+
+"Do you take me for a fool?" Mrs. Farnaby went on. "Do you think I don't
+know you better than you know yourself?" She stepped up close to him;
+her voice sank suddenly to low and tender tones. "If that last unlikely
+chance should turn out in my favour," she went on; "if you really did
+meet with my poor girl, one of these days, and knew that you had met
+with her--do you mean to say you could be cruel enough, no matter how
+badly I behaved to you, to tell me nothing about it? Is _that_ the heart
+I can feel beating under my hand? Is _that_ the Christianity you learnt
+at Tadmor? Pooh, pooh, you foolish boy! Go back to Regina; and tell her
+you have tried to frighten me, and you find it won't do."
+
+The next day was Saturday. The advertisement of the lecture appeared in
+the newspapers. Rufus confessed that he had been extravagant enough,
+in the case of the two weekly journals, to occupy half a page.
+"The public," he explained, "have got a nasty way of overlooking
+advertisements of a modest and retiring character. Hit 'em in the eyes
+when they open the paper, or you don't hit 'em at all."
+
+Among the members of the public attracted by the new announcement, Mrs.
+Farnaby was one. She honoured Amelius with a visit at his lodgings. "I
+called you a poor weak creature yesterday" (these were her first words
+on entering the room); "I talked like a fool. You're a splendid fellow;
+I respect your courage, and I shall attend your lecture. Never mind what
+Mr. Farnaby and Regina say. Regina's poor little conventional soul
+is shaken, I dare say; you needn't expect to have my niece among your
+audience. But Farnaby is a humbug, as usual. He affects to be horrified;
+he talks big about breaking off the match. In his own self, he's
+bursting with curiosity to know how you will get through with it. I tell
+you this--he will sneak into the hall and stand at the back where nobody
+can see him. I shall go with him; and, when you're on the platform, I'll
+hold up my handkerchief like this. Then you'll know he's there. Hit him
+hard, Amelius--hit him hard! Where is your friend Rufus? just gone away?
+I like that American. Give him my love, and tell him to come and see
+me." She left the room as abruptly as she had entered it. Amelius looked
+after her in amazement. Mrs. Farnaby was not like herself; Mrs. Farnaby
+was in good spirits!
+
+Regina's opinion of the lecture arrived by post.
+
+Every other word in her letter was underlined; half the sentences began
+with "Oh!"; Regina was shocked, astonished, ashamed, alarmed. What would
+Amelius do next? Why had he deceived her, and left her to find it out in
+the papers? He had undone all the good effect of those charming letters
+to her father and herself. He had no idea of the disgust and abhorrence
+which respectable people would feel at his odious Socialism. Was she
+never to know another happy moment? and was Amelius to be the cause of
+it? and so on, and so on.
+
+Mr. Farnaby's protest followed, delivered by Mr. Farnaby himself.
+He kept his gloves on when he called; he was solemn and pathetic; he
+remonstrated, in the character of one of the ancestors of Amelius; he
+pitied the ancient family "mouldering in the silent grave," he would
+abstain from deciding in a hurry, but his daughter's feelings were
+outraged, and he feared it might be his duty to break off the match.
+Amelius, with perfect good temper, offered him a free admission, and
+asked him to hear the lecture and decide for himself whether there was
+any harm in it. Mr. Farnaby turned his head away from the ticket as if
+it was something indecent. "Sad! sad!" That was his only farewell to the
+gentleman-Socialist.
+
+On the Sunday (being the only day in London on which a man can use his
+brains without being interrupted by street music), Amelius rehearsed his
+lecture. On the Monday, he paid his weekly visit to Regina.
+
+She was reported--whether truly or not it was impossible for him to
+discover--to have gone out in the carriage with Mrs. Ormond. Amelius
+wrote to her in soothing and affectionate terms, suggesting, as he had
+suggested to her father, that she should wait to hear the lecture before
+she condemned it. In the mean time, he entreated her to remember
+that they had promised to be true to one another, in time and
+eternity--Socialism notwithstanding.
+
+The answer came back by private messenger. The tone was serious.
+Regina's principles forbade her to attend a Socialist lecture. She hoped
+Amelius was in earnest in writing as he did about time and eternity. The
+subject was very awful to a rightly-constituted mind. On the next page,
+some mitigation of this severity followed in a postscript. Regina would
+wait at home to see Amelius, the day after his "regrettable appearance
+in public."
+
+The evening of Tuesday was the evening of the lecture.
+
+Rufus posted himself at the ticket-taker's office, in the interests of
+Amelius. "Even sixpences do sometimes stick to a man's fingers, on their
+way from the public to the money-box," he remarked. The sixpences did
+indeed flow in rapidly; the advertisements had, so far, produced their
+effect. But the reserved seats sold very slowly. The members of the
+Institution, who were admitted for nothing, arrived in large numbers,
+and secured the best places. Towards eight o'clock (the hour at which
+the lecture was to begin), the sixpenny audience was still pouring in.
+Rufus recognised Phoebe among the late arrivals, escorted by a person in
+the dress of a gentleman, who was palpably a blackguard nevertheless. A
+short stout lady followed, who warily shook hands with Rufus, and said,
+"Let me introduce you to Mr. Farnaby." Mr. Farnaby's mouth and chin were
+shrouded in a wrapper; his hat was over his eyebrows. Rufus observed
+that he looked as if he was ashamed of himself. A gaunt, dirty, savage
+old woman, miserably dressed, offered her sixpence to the moneytaker,
+while the two gentlemen were shaking hands; the example, it is needless
+to say, being set by Rufus. The old woman looked attentively at all
+that was visible of Mr. Farnaby--that is to say, at his eyes and his
+whiskers--by the gas-lamp hanging in the corridor. She instantly drew
+back, though she had got her ticket; waited until Mr. Farnaby had paid
+for his wife and himself, and then followed close behind them, into the
+hall.
+
+And why not? The advertisements addressed this wretched old creature as
+one of the poor and discontented public. Sixteen years ago, John Farnaby
+had put his own child into that woman's hands at Ramsgate, and had never
+seen either of them since.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 3
+
+Entering the hall, Mr. Farnaby discovered without difficulty the
+position of modest retirement of which he was in search.
+
+The cheap seats were situated, as usual, on that part of the floor of
+the building which was farthest from the platform. A gallery at this end
+of the hall threw its shadow over the hindermost benches and the
+gangway by which they were approached. In the sheltering obscurity thus
+produced, Mr. Farnaby took his place; standing in the corner formed by
+the angle it which the two walls of the building met, with his dutiful
+wife at his side.
+
+Still following them, unnoticed in the crowd, the old woman stopped at
+the extremity of the hindermost bench, looked close at a smartly-dressed
+young man who occupied the last seat at the end, and who paid marked
+attention to a pretty girl sitting by him, and whispered in his ear,
+"Now then, Jervy! can't you make room for Mother Sowler?"
+
+The man started and looked round. "You here?" he exclaimed, with an
+oath.
+
+Before he could say more, Phoebe whispered to him on the other side,
+"What a horrid old creature! How did you ever come to know her?"
+
+At the same moment, Mrs. Sowler reiterated her request in more
+peremptory language. "Do you hear, Jervy--do you hear? Sit a little
+closer."
+
+Jervy apparently had his reasons for treating the expression of Mrs.
+Sowler's wishes with deference, shabby as she was. Making abundant
+apologies, he asked his neighbours to favour him by sitting a little
+nearer to each other, and so contrive to leave a morsel of vacant space
+at the edge of the bench.
+
+Phoebe, making room under protest, began to whisper again. "What does
+she mean by calling you Jervy? She looks like a beggar. Tell her your
+name is Jervis."
+
+The reply she received did not encourage her to say more. "Hold your
+tongue; I have reasons for being civil to her--you be civil too."
+
+He turned to Mrs. Sowler, with the readiest submission to circumstances.
+Under the surface of his showy looks and his vulgar facility of manner,
+there lay hidden a substance of callous villainy and impenetrable
+cunning. He had in him the materials out of which the clever murderers
+are made, who baffle the police. If he could have done it with impunity,
+he would have destroyed without remorse the squalid old creature who sat
+by him, and who knew enough of his past career in England to send him
+to penal servitude for life. As it was, he spoke to her with a spurious
+condescension and good humour. "Why, it must be ten years, Mrs. Sowler,
+since I last saw you! What have you been doing?"
+
+The woman frowned at him as she answered. "Can't you look at me, and
+see? Starving!" She eyed his gaudy watch and chain greedily. "Money
+don't seem to be scarce with you. Have you made your fortune in
+America?"
+
+He laid his hand on her arm, and pressed it warningly. "Hush!" he said,
+under his breath. "We'll talk about that, after the lecture." His bright
+shifty black eyes turned furtively towards Phoebe--and Mrs. Sowler
+noticed it. The girl's savings in service had paid for his jewelry and
+his fine clothes. She silently resented his rudeness in telling her to
+"hold her tongue"; sitting, sullen, with her impudent little nose in the
+air. Jervy tried to include her indirectly in his conversation with his
+shabby old friend. "This young lady," he said, "knows Mr. Goldenheart.
+She feels sure he'll break down; and we've come here to see the fun. I
+don't hold with Socialism myself--I am for, what my favourite
+newspaper calls, the Altar and the Throne. In short, my politics are
+Conservative."
+
+"Your politics are in your girl's pocket," muttered Mrs. Sowler. "How
+long will her money last?"
+
+Jervy turned a deaf ear to the interruption. "And what has brought
+you here?" he went on, in his most ingratiating way. "Did you see the
+advertisement in the papers?"
+
+Mrs. Sowler answered loud enough to be heard above the hum of talking in
+the sixpenny places. "I was having a drop of gin, and I saw the paper at
+the public-house. I'm one of the discontented poor. I hate rich people;
+and I'm ready to pay my sixpence to hear them abused."
+
+"Hear, hear!" said a man near, who looked like a shoemaker.
+
+"I hope he'll give it to the aristocracy," added one of the shoemaker's
+neighbours, apparently a groom out of place.
+
+"I'm sick of the aristocracy," cried a woman with a fiery face and a
+crushed bonnet. "It's them as swallows up the money. What business have
+they with their palaces and their parks, when my husband's out of work,
+and my children hungry at home?"
+
+The acquiescent shoemaker listened with admiration. "Very well put," he
+said; "very well put."
+
+These expressions of popular feeling reached the respectable ears of Mr.
+Farnaby. "Do you hear those wretches?" he said to his wife.
+
+Mrs. Farnaby seized the welcome opportunity of irritating him. "Poor
+things!" she answered. "In their place, we should talk as they do."
+
+"You had better go into the reserved seats," rejoined her husband,
+turning from her with a look of disgust. "There's plenty of room. Why do
+you stop here?"
+
+"I couldn't think of leaving you, my dear! How did you like my American
+friend?"
+
+"I am astonished at your taking the liberty of introducing him to me.
+You knew perfectly well that I was here incognito. What do I care about
+a wandering American?"
+
+Mrs. Farnaby persisted as maliciously as ever. "Ah, but you see, I like
+him. The wandering American is my ally."
+
+"Your ally! What do you mean?"
+
+"Good heavens, how dull you are! don't you know that I object to my
+niece's marriage engagement? I was quite delighted when I heard of this
+lecture, because it's an obstacle in the way. It disgusts Regina, and
+it disgusts You--and my dear American is the man who first brought
+it about. Hush! here's Amelius. How well he looks! So graceful and so
+gentlemanlike," cried Mrs. Farnaby, signalling with her handkerchief to
+show Amelius their position in the hall. "I declare I'm ready to become
+a Socialist before he opens his lips!"
+
+The personal appearance of Amelius took the audience completely by
+surprise. A man who is young and handsome is not the order of man who
+is habitually associated in the popular mind with the idea of a lecture.
+After a moment of silence, there was a spontaneous burst of applause.
+It was renewed when Amelius, first placing on his table a little book,
+announced his intention of delivering the lecture extempore. The absence
+of the inevitable manuscript was in itself an act of mercy that cheered
+the public at starting.
+
+The orator of the evening began.
+
+"Ladies and gentlemen, thoughtful people accustomed to watch the signs
+of the times in this country, and among the other nations of Europe, are
+(so far as I know) agreed in the conclusion, that serious changes are
+likely to take place in present forms of government, and in existing
+systems of society, before the century in which we live has reached its
+end. In plain words, the next revolution is not so unlikely, and not so
+far off, as it pleases the higher and wealthier classes among European
+populations to suppose. I am one of those who believe that the coming
+convulsion will take the form, this time, of a social revolution, and
+that the man at the head of it will not be a military or a political
+man--but a Great Citizen, sprung from the people, and devoted heart and
+soul to the people's cause. Within the limits assigned to me to-night,
+it is impossible that I should speak to you of government and society
+among other nations, even if I possessed the necessary knowledge and
+experience to venture on so vast a subject. All that I can now attempt
+to do is (first) to point out some of the causes which are paving the
+way for a coming change in the social and political condition of this
+country; and (secondly) to satisfy you that the only trustworthy
+remedy for existing abuses is to be found in the system which Christian
+Socialism extracts from this little book on my table--the book which you
+all know under the name of The New Testament. Before, however, I enter
+on my task, I feel it a duty to say one preliminary word on the subject
+of my claim to address you, such as it is. I am most unwilling to speak
+of myself--but my position here forces me to do so. I am a stranger to
+all of you; and I am a very young man. Let me tell you, then, briefly,
+what my life has been, and where I have been brought up--and then decide
+for yourselves whether it is worth your while to favour me with your
+attention, or not."
+
+"A very good opening," remarked the shoemaker.
+
+"A nice-looking fellow," said the fiery-faced woman, "I should like to
+kiss him."
+
+"He's too civil by half," grumbled Mrs. Sowler; "I wish I had my
+sixpence back in my pocket."
+
+"Give him time." whispered Jervy, "and he'll warm up. I say, Phoebe,
+he doesn't begin like a man who is going to break down. I don't expect
+there will be much to laugh at to-night."
+
+"What an admirable speaker!" said Mrs. Farnaby to her husband. "Fancy
+such a man as that, being married to such an idiot as Regina!"
+
+"There's always a chance for him," returned Mr. Farnaby, savagely, "as
+long as he's not married to such a woman as You!"
+
+In the mean time, Amelius had claimed national kindred with his audience
+as an Englishman, and had rapidly sketched his life at Tadmor, in its
+most noteworthy points. This done, he put the question whether they
+would hear him. His frankness and freshness had already won the public:
+they answered by a general shout of applause.
+
+"Very well," Amelius proceeded, "now let us get on. Suppose we take
+a glance (we have no time to do more) at the present state of our
+religious system, first. What is the public aspect of the thing called
+Christianity, in the England of our day? A hundred different sects
+all at variance with each other. An established church, rent in every
+direction by incessant wrangling--disputes about black gowns or white;
+about having candlesticks on tables, or off tables; about bowing to
+the east or bowing to the west; about which doctrine collects the most
+respectable support and possesses the largest sum of money, the doctrine
+in my church, or the doctrine in your church, or the doctrine in the
+church over the way. Look up, if you like, from this multitudinous and
+incessant squabbling among the rank and file, to the high regions in
+which the right reverend representatives of state religion sit apart.
+Are they Christians? If they are, show me the Bishop who dare assert his
+Christianity in the House of Lords, when the ministry of the day happens
+to see its advantage in engaging in a war! Where is that Bishop, and how
+many supporters does he count among his own order? Do you blame me for
+using intemperate language--language which I cannot justify? Take a
+fair test, and try me by that. The result of the Christianity of the
+New Testament is to make men true, humane, gentle, modest, strictly
+scrupulous and strictly considerate in their dealings with their
+neighbours. Does the Christianity of the churches and the sects produce
+these results among us? Look at the staple of the country, at the
+occupation which employs the largest number of Englishmen of all
+degrees--Look at our Commerce. What is its social aspect, judged by the
+morality which is in this book in my hand? Let those organised systems
+of imposture, masquerading under the disguise of banks and companies,
+answer the question--there is no need for me to answer it. You know what
+respectable names are associated, year after year, with the shameless
+falsification of accounts, and the merciless ruin of thousands on
+thousands of victims. You know how our poor Indian customer finds his
+cotton-print dress a sham that falls to pieces; how the savage who deals
+honestly with us for his weapon finds his gun a delusion that bursts;
+how the half-starved needlewoman who buys her reel of thread finds
+printed on the label a false statement of the number of yards that she
+buys; you know that, in the markets of Europe, foreign goods are fast
+taking the place of English goods, because the foreigner is the most
+honest manufacturer of the two--and, lastly, you know, what is worse
+than all, that these cruel and wicked deceptions, and many more like
+them, are regarded, on the highest commercial authority, as 'forms of
+competition' and justifiable proceedings in trade. Do you believe in
+the honourable accumulation of wealth by men who hold such opinions and
+perpetrate such impostures as these? I don't! Do you find any brighter
+and purer prospect when you look down from the man who deceives you and
+me on the great scale, to the man who deceives us on the small? I
+don't! Everything we eat, drink, and wear is a more or less adulterated
+commodity; and that very adulteration is sold to us by the tradesmen at
+such outrageous prices, that we are obliged to protect ourselves on the
+Socialist principle, by setting up cooperative shops of our own. Wait!
+and hear me out, before you applaud. Don't mistake the plain purpose
+of what I am saying to you; and don't suppose that I am blind to the
+brighter side of the dark picture that I have drawn. Look within the
+limits of private life, and you will find true Christians, thank God,
+among clergymen and laymen alike; you will find men and women who
+deserve to be called, in the highest sense of the word, disciples of
+Christ. But my business is not with private life--my business is with
+the present public aspect of the religion, morals, and politics of this
+country; and again I say it, that aspect presents one wide field of
+corruption and abuse, and reveals a callous and shocking insensibility
+on the part of the nation at large to the spectacle of its own
+demoralisation and disgrace."
+
+There Amelius paused, and took his first drink of water.
+
+Reserved seats at public performances seem, by some curious affinity,
+to be occupied by reserved persons. The select public, seated nearest to
+the orator, preserved discreet silence. But the hearty applause from the
+sixpenny places made ample amends. There was enough of the lecturer's
+own vehemence and impetuosity in this opening attack--sustained as it
+undeniably was by a sound foundation of truth--to appeal strongly to the
+majority of his audience. Mrs. Sowler began to think that her sixpence
+had been well laid out, after all; and Mrs. Farnaby pointed the direct
+application to her husband of all the hardest hits at commerce, by
+nodding her head at him as they were delivered.
+
+Amelius went on.
+
+"The next thing we have to discover is this: Will our present system of
+government supply us with peaceable means for the reform of the abuses
+which I have already noticed? not forgetting that other enormous abuse,
+represented by our intolerable national expenditure, increasing with
+every year. Unless you insist on it, I do not propose to waste our
+precious time by saying anything about the House of Lords, for three
+good reasons. In the first place, that assembly is not elected by the
+people, and it has therefore no right of existence in a really free
+country. In the second place, out of its four hundred and eighty-five
+members, no less than one hundred and eighty-four directly profit by the
+expenditure of the public money; being in the annual receipt, under one
+pretence or another, of more than half a million sterling. In the third
+place, if the assembly of the Commons has in it the will, as well as the
+capacity, to lead the way in the needful reforms, the assembly of the
+Lords has no alternative but to follow, or to raise the revolution which
+it only escaped, by a hair's-breadth, some forty years since. What do
+you say? Shall we waste our time in speaking of the House of Lords?"
+
+Loud cries from the sixpenny benches answered No; the ostler and the
+fiery-faced woman being the most vociferous of all. Here and there,
+certain dissentient individuals raised a little hiss--led by Jervy, in
+the interests of "the Altar and the Throne."
+
+Amelius resumed.
+
+"Well, will the House of Commons help us to get purer Christianity, and
+cheaper government, by lawful and sufficient process of reform? Let me
+again remind you that this assembly has the power--if it has the will.
+Is it so constituted at present as to have the will? There is the
+question! The number of members is a little over six hundred and fifty.
+Out of this muster, one fifth only represent (or pretend to represent)
+the trading interests of the country. As for the members charged
+with the interests of the working class, they are more easily counted
+still--they are two in number! Then, in heaven's name (you will ask),
+what interest does the majority of members in this assembly represent?
+There is but one answer--the military and aristocratic interest. In
+these days of the decay of representative institutions, the House of
+Commons has become a complete misnomer. The Commons are not represented;
+modern members belong to classes of the community which have really no
+interest in providing for popular needs and lightening popular burdens.
+In one word, there is no sort of hope for us in the House of Commons.
+And whose fault is this? I own it with shame and sorrow--it is
+emphatically the fault of the people. Yes, I say to you plainly, it is
+the disgrace and the peril of England that the people themselves have
+elected the representative assembly which ignores the people's wants!
+You voters, in town and county alike, have had every conceivable
+freedom and encouragement secured to you in the exercise of your sacred
+trust--and there is the modern House of Commons to prove that you are
+thoroughly unworthy of it!"
+
+These bold words produced an outbreak of disapprobation from the
+audience, which, for the moment, completely overpowered the speaker's
+voice. They were prepared to listen with inexhaustible patience to the
+enumeration of their virtues and their wrongs--but they had not paid
+sixpence each to be informed of the vicious and contemptible part which
+they play in modern politics. They yelled and groaned and hissed--and
+felt that their handsome young lecturer had insulted them!
+
+Amelius waited quietly until the disturbance had worn itself out.
+
+"I am sorry I have made you angry with me," he said, smiling. "The blame
+for this little disturbance really rests with the public speakers who
+are afraid of you and who flatter you--especially if you belong to the
+working classes. You are not accustomed to have the truth told you to
+your faces. Why, my good friends, the people in this country, who
+are unworthy of the great trust which the wise and generous English
+constitution places in their hands, are so numerous that they can be
+divided into distinct classes! There is the highly-educated class
+which despairs, and holds aloof. There is the class beneath--without
+self-respect, and therefore without public spirit--which can be bribed
+indirectly, by the gift of a place, by the concession of a lease, even
+by an invitation to a party at a great house which includes the wives
+and the daughters. And there is the lower class still--mercenary,
+corrupt, shameless to the marrow of its bones--which sells itself and
+its liberties for money and drink. When I began this discourse,
+and adverted to great changes that are to come, I spoke of them as
+revolutionary changes. Am I an alarmist? Do I unjustly ignore the
+capacity for peaceable reformation which has preserved modern England
+from revolutions, thus far? God forbid that I should deny the truth, or
+that I should alarm you without need! But history tells me, if I look no
+farther back than to the first French Revolution, that there are social
+and political corruptions, which strike their roots in a nation
+so widely and so deeply, that no force short of the force of a
+revolutionary convulsion can tear them up and cast them away. And I do
+personally fear (and older and wiser men than I agree with me), that
+the corruptions at which I have only been able to hint, in this brief
+address, are fast extending themselves--in England, as well as in Europe
+generally--beyond the reach of that lawful and bloodless reform which
+has served us so well in past years. Whether I am mistaken in this view
+(and I hope with all my heart it may be so), or whether events yet in
+the future will prove that I am right, the remedy in either case,
+the one sure foundation on which a permanent, complete, and worthy
+reformation can be built--whether it prevents a convulsion or whether
+it follows a convulsion--is only to be found within the covers of this
+book. Do not, I entreat you, suffer yourselves to be persuaded by those
+purblind philosophers who assert that the divine virtue of Christianity
+is a virtue which is wearing out with the lapse of time. It is the abuse
+and corruption of Christianity that is wearing out--as all falsities
+and all impostures must and do wear out. Never, since Christ and his
+apostles first showed men the way to be better and happier, have
+the nations stood in sorer need of a return to that teaching, in its
+pristine purity and simplicity, than now! Never, more certainly than at
+this critical time, was it the interest as well as the duty of mankind
+to turn a deaf ear to the turmoil of false teachers, and to trust
+in that all-wise and all-merciful Voice which only ceased to exalt,
+console, and purify humanity, when it expired in darkness under the
+torture of the cross! Are these the wild words of an enthusiast? Is this
+the dream of an earthly Paradise in which it is sheer folly to believe?
+I can tell you of one existing community (one among others) which
+numbers some hundreds of persons; and which has found prosperity and
+happiness, by reducing the whole art and mystery of government to the
+simple solution set forth in the New Testament--fear God, and love thy
+neighbour as thyself."
+
+By these gradations Amelius arrived at the second of the two parts into
+which he had divided his address.
+
+He now repeated, at greater length and with a more careful choice of
+language, the statement of the religious and social principles of
+the Community at Tadmor, which he had already addressed to his two
+fellow-travellers on the voyage to England. While he confined himself to
+plain narrative, describing a mode of life which was entirely new to
+his hearers, he held the attention of the audience. But when he began to
+argue the question of applying Christian Socialism to the government of
+large populations as well as small--when he inquired logically whether
+what he had proved to be good for some hundreds of persons was not
+also good for some thousands, and, conceding that, for some hundreds of
+thousands, and so on until he had arrived, by dint of sheer argument,
+at the conclusion that what had succeeded at Tadmor must necessarily
+succeed on a fair trial in London--then the public interest began to
+flag. People remembered their coughs and colds, and talked in whispers,
+and looked about them with a vague feeling of relief in staring at each
+other. Mrs. Sowler, hitherto content with furtively glancing at Mr.
+Farnaby from time to time, now began to look at him more boldly, as he
+stood in his corner with his eyes fixed sternly on the platform at
+the other end of the hall. He too began to feel that the lecture was
+changing its tone. It was no longer the daring outbreak which he
+had come to hear, as his sufficient justification (if necessary) for
+forbidding Amelius to enter his house. "I have had enough of it," he
+said, suddenly turning to his wife, "let us go."
+
+If Mrs. Farnaby could have been forewarned that she was standing in that
+assembly of strangers, not as one of themselves, but as a woman with a
+formidable danger hanging over her head--or if she had only happened to
+look towards Phoebe, and had felt a passing reluctance to submit herself
+to the possibly insolent notice of a discharged servant--she might have
+gone out with her husband, and might have so escaped the peril that had
+been lying in wait for her, from the fatal moment when she first
+entered the hall. As it was she refused to move. "You forget the public
+discussion," she said. "Wait and see what sort of fight Amelius makes of
+it when the lecture is over."
+
+She spoke loud enough to be heard by some of the people seated nearest
+to her. Phoebe, critically examining the dresses of the few ladies in
+the reserved seats, twisted round on the bench, and noticed for the
+first time the presence of Mr. and Mrs. Farnaby in their dim corner.
+"Look!" she whispered to Jervy, "there's the wretch who turned me out of
+her house without a character, and her husband with her."
+
+Jervy looked round, in his turn, a little doubtful of the accuracy of
+his sweetheart's information. "Surely they wouldn't come to the sixpenny
+places," he said. "Are you certain it's Mr. and Mrs. Farnaby?"
+
+He spoke in cautiously-lowered tones; but Mrs. Sowler had seen him
+look back at the lady and gentleman in the corner, and was listening
+attentively to catch the first words that fell from his lips.
+
+"Which is Mr. Farnaby?" she asked.
+
+"The man in the corner there, with the white silk wrapper over his
+mouth, and his hat down to his eyebrows."
+
+Mrs. Sowler looked round for a moment--to make sure that Jervy's man and
+her man were one and the same.
+
+"Farnaby?" she muttered to herself, in the tone of a person who heard
+the name for the first time. She considered a little, and leaning across
+Jervy, addressed herself to his companion. "My dear," she whispered,
+"did that gentleman ever go by the name of Morgan, and have his letters
+addressed to the George and Dragon, in Tooley-street?"
+
+Phoebe lifted her eyebrows with a look of contemptuous surprise, which
+was an answer in itself. "Fancy the great Mr. Farnaby going by an
+assumed name, and having his letters addressed to a public-house!" she
+said to Jervy.
+
+Mrs. Sowler asked no more questions. She relapsed into muttering
+to herself, under her breath. "His whiskers have turned gray, to be
+sure--but I know his eyes again; I'll take my oath to it, there's no
+mistaking _his_ eyes!" She suddenly appealed to Jervy. "Is Mr. Farnaby
+rich?" she asked.
+
+"Rolling in riches!" was the answer.
+
+"Where does he live?"
+
+Jervy was cautious how he replied to that; he consulted Phoebe. "Shall I
+tell her?"
+
+Phoebe answered petulantly, "I'm turned out of the house; I don't care
+what you tell her!"
+
+Jervy again addressed the old woman, still keeping his information in
+reserve. "Why do you want to know where he lives?"
+
+"He owes me money," said Mrs. Sowler.
+
+Jervy looked hard at her, and emitted a long low whistle, expressive of
+blank amazement. The persons near, annoyed by the incessant whispering,
+looked round irritably, and insisted on silence. Jervy ventured
+nevertheless on a last interruption. "You seem to be tired of this," he
+remarked to Phoebe; "let's go and get some oysters." She rose directly.
+Jervy tapped Mrs. Sowler on the shoulder, as they passed her. "Come and
+have some supper," he said; "I'll stand treat."
+
+The three were necessarily noticed by their neighbours as they passed
+out. Mrs. Farnaby discovered Phoebe--when it was too late. Mr. Farnaby
+happened to look first at the old woman. Sixteen years of squalid
+poverty effectually disguised her, in that dim light. He only looked
+away again, and said to his wife impatiently, "Let us go too!"
+
+Mrs. Farnaby was still obstinate. "You can go if you like," she said; "I
+shall stay here."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 4
+
+"Three dozen oysters, bread-and-butter, and bottled stout; a private
+room and a good fire." Issuing these instructions, on his arrival at the
+tavern, Jervy was surprised by a sudden act of interference on the part
+of his venerable guest. Mrs. Sowler actually took it on herself to order
+her own supper!
+
+"Nothing cold to eat or drink for me," she said. "Morning and night,
+waking and sleeping, I can't keep myself warm. See for yourself, Jervy,
+how I've lost flesh since you first knew me! A steak, broiling hot from
+the gridiron, and gin-and-water, hotter still--that's the supper for
+me."
+
+"Take the order, waiter," said Jervy, resignedly; "and let us see the
+private room."
+
+The tavern was of the old-fashioned English sort, which scorns to learn
+a lesson of brightness and elegance from France. The private room can
+only be described as a museum for the exhibition of dirt in all its
+varieties. Behind the bars of the rusty little grate a dying fire was
+drawing its last breath. Mrs. Sowler clamoured for wood and coals;
+revived the fire with her own hands; and seated herself shivering as
+close to the fender as the chair would go. After a while, the composing
+effect of the heat began to make its influence felt: the head of
+the half-starved wretch sank: a species of stupor overcame her--half
+faintness, and half sleep.
+
+Phoebe and her sweetheart sat together, waiting the appearance of the
+supper, on a little sofa at the other end of the room. Having certain
+objects to gain, Jervy put his arm round her waist, and looked and spoke
+in his most insinuating manner.
+
+"Try and put up with Mother Sowler for an hour or two," he said. "My
+sweet girl, I know she isn't fit company for you! But how can I turn my
+back on an old friend?"
+
+"That's just what surprises me," Phoebe answered. "I don't understand
+such a person being a friend of yours."
+
+Always ready with the necessary lie, whenever the occasion called for
+it, Jervy invented a pathetic little story, in two short parts.
+First part: Mrs. Sowler, rich and respected; a widow inhabiting a
+villa-residence, and riding in her carriage. Second part: a villainous
+lawyer; misplaced confidence; reckless investments; death of the
+villain; ruin of Mrs. Sowler. "Don't talk about her misfortunes when
+she wakes," Jervy concluded, "or she'll burst out crying, to a dead
+certainty. Only tell me, dear Phoebe, would _you_ turn your back on a
+forlorn old creature because she has outlived all her other friends, and
+hasn't a farthing left in the world? Poor as I am, I can help her to a
+supper, at any rate."
+
+Phoebe expressed her admiration of these noble sentiments by an
+inexpensive ebullition of tenderness, which failed to fulfill Jervy's
+private anticipations. He had aimed straight at her purse--and he had
+only hit her heart! He tried a broad hint next. "I wonder whether I
+shall have a shilling or two left to give Mrs. Sowler, when I have paid
+for the supper?" He sighed, and pulled out some small change, and looked
+at it in eloquent silence. Phoebe was hit in the right place at last.
+She handed him her purse. "What is mine will be yours, when we are
+married," she said; "why not now?" Jervy expressed his sense of
+obligation with the promptitude of a grateful man; he repeated
+those precious words, "My sweet girl!" Phoebe laid her head on his
+shoulder--and let him kiss her, and enjoyed it in silent ecstasy with
+half-closed eyes. The scoundrel waited and watched her, until she was
+completely under his influence. Then, and not till then, he risked the
+gradual revelation of the purpose which had induced him to withdraw from
+the hall, before the proceedings of the evening had reached their end.
+
+"Did you hear what Mrs. Sowler said to me, just before we left the
+lecture?" he asked.
+
+"No, dear."
+
+"You remember that she asked me to tell her Farnaby's address?"
+
+"Oh yes! And she wanted to know if he had ever gone by the name of
+Morgan. Ridiculous--wasn't it?"
+
+"I'm not so sure of that, my dear. She told me, in so many words,
+that Farnaby owed her money. He didn't make his fortune all at once, I
+suppose. How do we know what he might have done in his young days, or
+how he might have humbugged a feeble woman. Wait till our friend there
+at the fire has warmed her old bones with some hot grog--and I'll find
+out something more about Farnaby's debt."
+
+"Why, dear? What is it to you?"
+
+Jervy reflected for a moment, and decided that the time had come to
+speak more plainly.
+
+"In the first place," he said, "it would only be an act of common
+humanity, on my part, to help Mrs. Sowler to get her money. You see
+that, don't you? Very well. Now, I am no Socialist, as you are aware;
+quite the contrary. At the same time, I am a remarkably just man; and
+I own I was struck by what Mr. Goldenheart said about the uses to which
+wealthy people are put, by the Rules at Tadmor. 'The man who has got the
+money is bound, by the express law of Christian morality, to use it in
+assisting the man who has got none.' Those were his words, as nearly as
+I can remember them. He put it still more strongly afterwards; he
+said, 'A man who hoards up a large fortune, from a purely selfish
+motive--either because he is a miser, or because he looks only to the
+aggrandisement of his own family after his death--is, in either case,
+an essentially unchristian person, who stands in manifest need of
+enlightenment and control by Christian law.' And then, if you remember,
+some of the people murmured; and Mr. Goldenheart stopped them by reading
+a line from the New Testament, which said exactly what he had been
+saying--only in fewer words. Now, my dear girl, Farnaby seems to me to
+be one of the many people pointed at in this young gentleman's lecture.
+Judging by looks, I should say he was a hard man."
+
+"That's just what he is--hard as iron! Looks at his servants as if they
+were dirt under his feet; and never speaks a kind word to them from one
+year's end to another."
+
+"Suppose I guess again? He's not particularly free-handed with his
+money--is he?"
+
+"He! He will spend anything on himself and his grandeur; but he never
+gave away a halfpenny in his life."
+
+Jervy pointed to the fireplace, with a burst of virtuous indignation.
+"And there's that poor old soul starving for want of the money he owes
+her! Damn it, I agree with the Socialists; it's a virtue to make that
+sort of man bleed. Look at you and me! We are the very people he ought
+to help--we might be married at once, if we only knew where to find a
+little money. I've seen a deal of the world, Phoebe; and my experience
+tells me there's something about that debt of Farnaby's which he doesn't
+want to have known. Why shouldn't we screw a few five-pound notes for
+ourselves out of the rich miser's fears?"
+
+Phoebe was cautious. "It's against the law--ain't it?" she said.
+
+"Trust me to keep clear of the law," Jervy answered. "I won't stir in
+the matter till I know for certain that he daren't take the police into
+his confidence. It will be all easy enough when we are once sure of
+that. You have been long enough in the family to find out Farnaby's weak
+side. Would it do, if we got at him, to begin with, through his wife?"
+
+Phoebe suddenly reddened to the roots of her hair. "Don't talk to me
+about his wife!" she broke out fiercely; "I've got a day of reckoning to
+come with that lady--" She looked at Jervy and checked herself. He was
+watching her with an eager curiosity, which not even his ready cunning
+was quick enough to conceal.
+
+"I wouldn't intrude on your little secrets, darling, for the world!" he
+said, in his most persuasive tones. "But, if you want advice, you know
+that I am heart and soul at your service."
+
+Phoebe looked across the room at Mrs. Sowler, still nodding over the
+fire.
+
+"Never mind now," she said; "I don't think it's a matter for a man to
+advise about--it's between Mrs. Farnaby and me. Do what you like with
+her husband; I don't care; he's a brute, and I hate him. But there's one
+thing I insist on--I won't have Miss Regina frightened or annoyed; mind
+that! She's a good creature. There, read the letter she wrote to me
+yesterday, and judge for yourself."
+
+Jervy looked at the letter. It was not very long. He resignedly took
+upon himself the burden of reading it.
+
+
+"DEAR PHOEBE,
+
+"Don't be downhearted. I am your friend always, and I will help you to
+get another place. I am sorry to say that it was indeed Mrs. Ormond who
+found us out that day. She had her suspicions, and she watched us, and
+told my aunt. This she owned to me with her own lips. She said, 'I would
+do anything, my dear, to save you from an ill-assorted marriage.' I am
+very wretched about it, because I can never look on her as my friend
+again. My aunt, as you know, is of Mrs. Ormond's way of thinking. You
+must make allowances for her hot temper. Remember, out of your kindness
+towards me, you had been secretly helping forward the very thing which
+she was most anxious to prevent. That made her very angry; but, never
+fear, she will come round in time. If you don't want to spend your
+little savings, while you are waiting for another situation, let me
+know. A share of my pocket-money is always at your service.
+
+"Your friend,
+
+"REGINA."
+
+
+"Very nice indeed," said Jervy, handing the letter back, and yawning as
+he did it. "And convenient, too, if we run short of money. Ah, here's
+the waiter with the supper, at last! Now, Mrs. Sowler, there's a time
+for everything--it's time to wake up."
+
+He lifted the old woman off her chair, and settled her before the
+table, like a child. The sight of the hot food and drink roused her to
+a tigerish activity. She devoured the meat with her eyes as well as her
+teeth; she drank the hot gin-and-water in fierce gulps, and set down
+the glass with audible gasps of relief. "Another one," she cried, "and I
+shall begin to feel warm again!"
+
+Jervy, watching her from the opposite side of the table, with Phoebe
+close by him as usual, had his own motives for encouraging her to talk,
+by the easy means of encouraging her to drink. He sent for another glass
+of the hot grog. Phoebe, daintily picking up her oysters with her fork,
+affected to be shocked at Mrs. Sowler's coarse method of eating and
+drinking. She kept her eyes on her plate, and only consented to
+taste malt liquor under modest protest. When Jervy lit a cigar, after
+finishing his supper, she reminded him, in an impressively genteel
+manner, of the consideration which he owed to the presence of an elderly
+lady. "I like it myself, dear," she said mincingly; "but perhaps Mrs.
+Sowler objects to the smell?"
+
+Mrs. Sowler burst into a hoarse laugh. "Do I look as if I was likely to
+be squeamish about smells?" she asked, with the savage contempt for her
+own poverty, which was one of the dangerous elements in her character.
+"See the place I live in, young woman, and then talk about smells if you
+like!"
+
+This was indelicate. Phoebe picked a last oyster out of its shell, and
+kept her eyes modestly fixed on her plate. Observing that the second
+glass of gin-and-water was fast becoming empty, Jervy risked the first
+advances, on his way to Mrs. Sowler's confidence.
+
+"About that debt of Farnaby's?" he began. "Is it a debt of long
+standing?"
+
+Mrs. Sowler was on her guard. In other words, Mrs. Sowler's head was
+only assailable by hot grog, when hot grog was administered in large
+quantities. She said it was a debt of long standing, and she said no
+more.
+
+"Has it been standing seven years?"
+
+Mrs. Sowler emptied her glass, and looked hard at Jervy across the
+table. "My memory isn't good for much, at my time of life." She gave him
+that answer, and she gave him no more.
+
+Jervy yielded with his best grace. "Try a third glass," he said;
+"there's luck, you know, in odd numbers."
+
+Mrs. Sowler met this advance in the spirit in which it was made. She was
+obliging enough to consult her memory, even before the third glass made
+its appearance. "Seven years, did you say?" she repeated. "More than
+twice seven years, Jervy! What do you think of that?"
+
+Jervy wasted no time in thinking. He went on with his questions.
+
+"Are you quite sure that the man I pointed out to you, at the lecture,
+is the same man who went by the name of Morgan, and had his letters
+addressed to the public-house?"
+
+"Quite sure. I'd swear to him anywhere--only by his eyes."
+
+"And have you never yet asked him to pay the debt?"
+
+"How could I ask him, when I never knew what his name was till you told
+me to-night?"
+
+"What amount of money does he owe you?"
+
+Whether Mrs. Sowler had her mind prophetically fixed on a fourth glass
+of grog, or whether she thought it time to begin asking questions on her
+own account, is not easy to say. Whatever her motive might be, she slyly
+shook her head, and winked at Jervy. "The money's my business," she
+remarked. "You tell me where he lives--and I'll make him pay me."
+
+Jervy was equal to the occasion. "You won't do anything of the sort," he
+said.
+
+Mrs. Sowler laughed defiantly. "So you think, my fine fellow!"
+
+"I don't think at all, old lady--I'm certain. In the first place,
+Farnaby don't owe you the debt by law, after seven years. In the second
+place, just look at yourself in the glass there. Do you think the
+servants will let you in, when you knock at Farnaby's door? You want a
+clever fellow to help you--or you'll never recover that debt."
+
+Mrs. Sowler was accessible to reason (even half-way through her third
+glass of grog), when reason was presented to her in convincing terms.
+She came to the point at once. "How much do you want?" she asked.
+
+"Nothing," Jervy answered; "I don't look to _you_ to pay my commission."
+
+Mrs. Sowler reflected a little--and understood him. "Say that again,"
+she insisted, "in the presence of your young woman as witness."
+
+Jervy touched his young woman's hand under the table, warning her to
+make no objection, and to leave it to him. Having declared for the
+second time that he would not take a farthing from Mrs. Sowler, he went
+on with his inquiries.
+
+"I'm acting in your interests, Mother Sowler," he said; "and you'll be
+the loser, if you don't answer my questions patiently, and tell me the
+truth. I want to go back to the debt. What is it for?"
+
+"For six weeks' keep of a child, at ten shillings a week."
+
+Phoebe looked up from her plate.
+
+"Whose child?" Jervy asked, noticing the sudden movement.
+
+"Morgan's child--the same man you said was Farnaby."
+
+"Do you know who the mother was?"
+
+"I wish I did! I should have got the money out of her long ago."
+
+Jervy stole a look at Phoebe. She had turned pale; she was listening,
+with her eyes riveted on Mrs. Sowler's ugly face.
+
+"How long ago was it?" Jervy went on.
+
+"Better than sixteen years."
+
+"Did Farnaby himself give you the child?"
+
+"With his own hands, over the garden-paling of a house at Ramsgate. He
+saw me and the child into the train for London. I had ten pounds from
+him, and no more. He promised to see me, and settle everything, in a
+month's time. I have never set eyes on him from that day, till I saw him
+paying his money this evening at the door of the hall."
+
+Jervy stole another look at Phoebe. She was still perfectly unconscious
+that he was observing her. Her attention was completely absorbed by Mrs.
+Sowler's replies. Speculating on the possible result, Jervy abandoned
+the question of the debt, and devoted his next inquiries to the subject
+of the child.
+
+"I promise you every farthing of your money, Mother Sowler," he said,
+"with interest added to it. How old was the child when Farnaby gave it
+to you?"
+
+"Old? Not a week old, I should say!"
+
+"Not a week old?" Jervy repeated, with his eye on Phoebe. "Dear, dear
+me, a newborn baby, one may say!"
+
+The girl's excitement was fast getting beyond control. She leaned across
+the table, in her eagerness to hear more.
+
+"And how long was this poor child under your care?" Jervy went on.
+
+"How can I tell you, at this distance of time? For some months, I should
+say. This I'm certain of--I kept it for six good weeks after the ten
+pounds he gave me were spent. And then--" she stopped, and looked at
+Phoebe.
+
+"And then you got rid of it?"
+
+Mrs. Sowler felt for Jervy's foot under the table, and gave it a
+significant kick. "I have done nothing to be ashamed of, miss," she
+said, addressing her answer defiantly to Phoebe. "Being too poor to keep
+the little dear myself, I placed it under the care of a good lady, who
+adopted it."
+
+Phoebe could restrain herself no longer. She burst out with the next
+question, before Jervy could open his lips.
+
+"Do you know where the lady is now?"
+
+"No," said Mrs. Sowler shortly; "I don't."
+
+"Do you know where to find the child?"
+
+Mrs. Sowler slowly stirred up the remains of her grog. "I know no more
+than you do. Any more questions, miss?"
+
+Phoebe's excitement completely blinded her to the evident signs of a
+change in Mrs. Sowler's temper for the worse. She went on headlong.
+
+"Have you never seen the child since you gave her to the lady?"
+
+Mrs. Sowler set down her glass, just as she was raising it to her lips.
+Jervy paused, thunderstruck, in the act of lighting a second cigar.
+
+_"Her?"_ Mrs. Sowler repeated slowly, her eyes fixed on Phoebe with
+a lowering expression of suspicion and surprise. "Her?" She turned to
+Jervy. "Did you ask me if the child was a girl or a boy?"
+
+"I never even thought of it," Jervy replied.
+
+"Did I happen to say it myself, without being asked?"
+
+Jervy deliberately abandoned Phoebe to the implacable old wretch, before
+whom she had betrayed herself. It was the only likely way of forcing
+the girl to confess everything. "No," he answered; "you never said it
+without being asked."
+
+Mrs. Sowler turned once more to Phoebe. "How do you know the child was a
+girl?" she inquired.
+
+Phoebe trembled, and said nothing. She sat with her head down, and her
+hands, fast clasped together, resting on her lap.
+
+"Might I ask, if you please," Mrs. Sowler proceeded, with a ferocious
+assumption of courtesy, "how old you are, miss? You're young enough and
+pretty enough not to mind answering to your age, I'm sure."
+
+Even Jervy's villainous experience of the world failed to forewarn him
+of what was coming. Phoebe, it is needless to say, instantly fell into
+the trap.
+
+"Twenty-four," she replied, "next birthday."
+
+"And the child was put into my hands, sixteen years ago," said Mrs.
+Sowler. "Take sixteen from twenty-four, and eight remains. I'm more
+surprised than ever, miss, at your knowing it to be a girl. It couldn't
+have been your child--could it?"
+
+Phoebe started to her feet, in a state of fury. "Do you hear that?" she
+cried, appealing to Jervy. "How dare you bring me here to be insulted by
+that drunken wretch?"
+
+Mrs. Sowler rose, on her side. The old savage snatched up her empty
+glass--intending to throw it at Phoebe. At the same moment, the ready
+Jervy caught her by the arm, dragged her out of the room, and shut the
+door behind them.
+
+There was a bench on the landing outside. He pushed Mrs. Sowler down on
+the bench with one hand, and took Phoebe's purse out of his pocket with
+the other. "Here's a pound," he said, "towards the recovery of that
+debt of yours. Go home quietly, and meet me at the door of this house
+tomorrow evening, at six."
+
+Mrs. Sowler, opening her lips to protest, suddenly closed them again,
+fascinated by the sight of the gold. She clutched the coin, and became
+friendly and familiar in a moment. "Help me downstairs, deary," she
+said, "and put me into a cab. I'm afraid of the night air."
+
+"One word more, before I put you into a cab," said Jervy. "What did you
+really do with the child?"
+
+Mrs. Sowler grinned hideously, and whispered her reply, in the strictest
+confidence.
+
+"Sold her to Moll Davies, for five-and-sixpence."
+
+"Who was Moll Davis?"
+
+"A cadger."
+
+"And you really know nothing now of Moll Davis or the child?"
+
+"Should I want you to help me if I did?" Mrs. Sowler asked
+contemptuously. "They may be both dead and buried, for all I know to the
+contrary."
+
+Jervy put her into the cab, without further delay. "Now for the other
+one!" he said to himself, as he hurried back to the private room.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 5
+
+Some men would have found it no easy task to console Phoebe, under
+the circumstances. Jervy had the immense advantage of not feeling
+the slightest sympathy for her: he was in full command of his large
+resources of fluent assurance and ready flattery. In less than five
+minutes, Phoebe's tears were dried, and her lover had his arm round her
+waist again, in the character of a cherished and forgiven man.
+
+"Now, my angel!" he said (Phoebe sighed tenderly; he had never called
+her his angel before), "tell me all about it in confidence. Only let
+me know the facts, and I shall see my way to protecting you against
+any annoyance from Mrs. Sowler in the future. You have made a very
+extraordinary discovery. Come closer to me, my dear girl. Did it happen
+in Farnaby's house?"
+
+"I heard it in the kitchen," said Phoebe.
+
+Jervy started. "Did any one else hear it?" he asked.
+
+"No. They were all in the housekeeper's room, looking at the Indian
+curiosities which her son in Canada had sent to her. I had left my bird
+on the dresser--and I ran into the kitchen to put the cage in a safe
+place, being afraid of the cat. One of the swinging windows in the
+skylight was open; and I heard voices in the back room above, which is
+Mrs. Farnaby's room."
+
+"Whose voices did you hear?"
+
+"Mrs. Farnaby's voice, and Mr. Goldenheart's."
+
+"Mrs. Farnaby?" Jervy repeated, in surprise. "Are you sure it was
+_Mrs.?"_
+
+"Of course I am! Do you think I don't know that horrid woman's voice?
+She was saying a most extraordinary thing when I first heard her--she
+was asking if there was anything wrong in showing her naked foot. And a
+man answered, and the voice was Mr. Goldenheart's. You would have felt
+curious to hear more, if you had been in my place, wouldn't you? I
+opened the second window in the kitchen, so as to make sure of not
+missing anything. And what do you think I heard her say?"
+
+"You mean Mrs. Farnaby?"
+
+"Yes. I heard her say, 'Look at my right foot--you see there's nothing
+the matter with it.' And then, after a while, she said, 'Look at my left
+foot--look between the third toe and the fourth.' Did you ever hear of
+such a audacious thing for a married woman to say to a young man?"
+
+"Go on! go on! What did _he_ say?"
+
+"Nothing; I suppose he was looking at her foot."
+
+"Her left foot?"
+
+"Yes. Her left foot was nothing to be proud of, I can tell you! By her
+own account, she has some horrid deformity in it, between the third toe
+and the fourth. No; I didn't hear her say what the deformity was. I only
+heard her call it so--and she said her 'poor darling' was born with
+the same fault, and that was her defence against being imposed upon by
+rogues--I remember the very words--'in the past days when I employed
+people to find her.' Yes! she said _'her.'_ I heard it plainly. And she
+talked afterwards of her 'poor lost daughter', who might be still living
+somewhere, and wondering who her mother was. Naturally enough, when I
+heard that hateful old drunkard talking about a child given to her by
+Mr. Farnaby, I put two and two together. Dear me, how strangely you
+look! What's wrong with you?"
+
+"I'm only very much interested--that's all. But there's one thing I
+don't understand. What had Mr. Goldenheart to do with all this?"
+
+"Didn't I tell you?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Well, then, I tell you now. Mrs. Farnaby is not only a heartless
+wretch, who turns a poor girl out of her situation, and refuses to give
+her a character--she's a fool besides. That precious exhibition of her
+nasty foot was to inform Mr. Goldenheart of something she wanted him to
+know. If he happened to meet with a girl, in his walks or his travels,
+and if he found that she had the same deformity in the same foot, then
+he might know for certain--"
+
+"All right! I understand. But why Mr. Goldenheart?"
+
+"Because she had a dream that Mr. Goldenheart had found the lost girl,
+and because she thought there was one chance in a hundred that her dream
+might come true! Did you ever hear of such a fool before? From what I
+could make out, I believe she actually cried about it. And that same
+woman turns me into the street to be ruined, for all she knows or cares.
+Mind this! I would have kept her secret--it was no business of mine,
+after all--if she had behaved decently to me. As it is, I mean to be
+even with her; and what I heard down in the kitchen is more than enough
+to help me to it. I'll expose her somehow--I don't quite know how; but
+that will come with time. You will keep the secret, dear, I'm sure. We
+are soon to have all our secrets in common, when we are man and wife,
+ain't we? Why, you're not listening to me! What _is_ the matter with
+you?"
+
+Jervy suddenly looked up. His soft insinuating manner had vanished; he
+spoke roughly and impatiently.
+
+"I want to know something. Has Farnaby's wife got money of her own?"
+
+Phoebe's mind was still disturbed by the change in her lover. "You speak
+as if you were angry with me," she said.
+
+Jervy recovered his insinuating tones, with some difficulty. "My
+dear girl, I love you! How can I be angry with you? You've set me
+thinking--and it bothers me a little, that's all. Do you happen to know
+if Mrs. Farnaby has got money of her own?"
+
+Phoebe answered this time. "I've heard Miss Regina say that Mrs.
+Farnaby's father was a rich man," she said.
+
+"What was his name?"
+
+"Ronald."
+
+"Do you know when he died?"
+
+"No."
+
+Jervy fell into thought again, biting his nails in great perplexity.
+After a moment or two, an idea came to him. "The tombstone will tell
+me!" he exclaimed, speaking to himself. He turned to Phoebe, before she
+could express her surprise, and asked if she knew where Mr. Ronald was
+buried.
+
+"Yes," said Phoebe, "I've heard that. In Highgate cemetery. But why do
+you want to know?"
+
+Jervy looked at his watch. "It's getting late," he said; "I'll see you
+safe home."
+
+"But I want to know--"
+
+"Put on your bonnet, and wait till we are out in the street."
+
+Jervy paid the bill, with all needful remembrance of the waiter. He was
+generous, he was polite; but he was apparently in no hurry to favour
+Phoebe with the explanation that he had promised. They had left the
+tavern for some minutes--and he was still rude enough to remain absorbed
+in his own reflections. Phoebe's patience gave way.
+
+"I have told you everything," she said reproachfully; "I don't call it
+fair dealing to keep me in the dark after that."
+
+He roused himself directly. "My dear girl, you entirely mistake me!"
+
+The reply was as ready as usual; but it was spoken rather absently.
+Only that moment, he had decided on informing Phoebe (to some extent, at
+least) of the purpose which he was then meditating. He would infinitely
+have preferred using Mrs. Sowler as his sole accomplice. But he knew the
+girl too well to run that risk. If he refused to satisfy her curiosity,
+she would be deterred by no scruples of delicacy from privately watching
+him; and she might say something (either by word of month or by writing)
+to the kind young mistress who was in correspondence with her, which
+might lead to disastrous results. It was of the last importance to him,
+so far to associate Phoebe with his projected enterprise, as to give her
+an interest of her own in keeping his secrets.
+
+"I have not the least wish," he resumed, "to conceal any thing from you.
+So far as I can see my way at present, you shall see it too." Reserving
+in this dexterous manner the freedom of lying, whenever he found it
+necessary to depart from the truth, he smiled encouragingly, and waited
+to be questioned.
+
+Phoebe repeated the inquiry she had made at the tavern. "Why do you want
+to know where Mr. Ronald is buried?" she asked bluntly.
+
+"Mr. Ronald's tombstone, my dear, will tell me the date of Mr. Ronald's
+death," Jervy rejoined. "When I have got the date, I shall go to a place
+near St. Paul's, called Doctors' Commons; I shall pay a shilling fee,
+and I shall have the privilege of looking at Mr. Ronald's will."
+
+"And what good will that do you?"
+
+"Very properly put, Phoebe! Even shillings are not to be wasted, in our
+position. But my shilling will buy two sixpennyworths of information.
+I shall find out what sum of money Mr. Ronald has left to his daughter;
+and I shall know for certain whether Mrs. Farnaby's husband has any
+power over it, or not."
+
+"Well?" said Phoebe, not much interested so far--"and what then?"
+
+Jervy looked about him. They were in a crowded thoroughfare at the time.
+He preserved a discreet silence, until they had arrived at the first
+turning which led down a quiet street.
+
+"What I have to tell you," he said, "must not be accidentally heard by
+anybody. Here, my dear, we are all but out of the world--and here I can
+speak to you safely. I promise you two good things. You shall bring Mrs.
+Farnaby to that day of reckoning; and we will find money enough to marry
+on comfortably as soon as you like."
+
+Phoebe's languid interest in the subject began to revive: she insisted
+on having a clearer explanation than this. "Do you mean to get the money
+out of Mr. Farnaby?" she inquired.
+
+"I will have nothing to do with Mr. Farnaby--unless I find that his
+wife's money is not at her own disposal. What you heard in the kitchen
+has altered all my plans. Wait a minute--and you will see what I am
+driving at. How much do you think Mrs. Farnaby would give me, if I found
+that lost daughter of hers?"
+
+Phoebe suddenly stood still, and looked at the sordid scoundrel who was
+tempting her in blank amazement.
+
+"But nobody knows where the daughter is," she objected.
+
+"You and I know that the daughter has a deformity in her left foot,"
+Jervy replied; "and you and I know exactly in what part of the foot it
+is. There's not only money to be made out of that knowledge--but money
+made easily, without the slightest risk. Suppose I managed the matter by
+correspondence, without appearing in it personally? Don't you think
+Mrs. Farnaby would open her purse beforehand, if I mentioned the exact
+position of that little deformity, as a proof that I was to be depended
+on?"
+
+Phoebe was unable, or unwilling, to draw the obvious conclusion, even
+now.
+
+"But, what would you do," she said, "when Mrs. Farnaby insisted on
+seeing her daughter?"
+
+There was something in the girl's tone--half fearful, half
+suspicious--which warned Jervy that he was treading on dangerous ground.
+He knew perfectly well what he proposed to do, in the case that had been
+so plainly put him. It was the simplest thing in the world. He had only
+to make an appointment with Mrs. Farnaby for a meeting on a future day,
+and to take to flight in the interval; leaving a polite note behind him
+to say that it was all a mistake, and that he regretted being too poor
+to return the money. Having thus far acknowledged the design he had in
+view, could he still venture on answering his companion without reserve?
+Phoebe was vain, Phoebe was vindictive; and, more promising still,
+Phoebe was a fool. But she was not yet capable of consenting to an act
+of the vilest infamy, in cold blood. Jervy looked at her--and saw that
+the foreseen necessity for lying had come at last.
+
+"That's just the difficulty," he said; "that's just where I don't see my
+way plainly yet. Can you advise me?"
+
+Phoebe started, and drew back from him. _"I_ advise you!" she exclaimed.
+"It frightens me to think of it. If you make her believe she is going to
+see her daughter, and if she finds out that you have robbed and deceived
+her, I can tell you this--with her furious temper--you would drive her
+mad."
+
+Jervy's reply was a model of well-acted indignation. "Don't talk of
+anything so horrible," he exclaimed. "If you believe me capable of such
+cruelty as that, go to Mrs. Farnaby, and warn her at once!"
+
+"It's too bad to speak to me in that way!" Phoebe rejoined, with the
+frank impetuosity of an offended woman. "You know I would die, rather
+than get you into trouble. Beg my pardon directly--or I won't walk
+another step with you!"
+
+Jervy made the necessary apologies, with all possible humility. He had
+gained his end--he could now postpone any further discussion of the
+subject, without arousing Phoebe's distrust. "Let us say no more about
+it, for the present," he suggested; "we will think it over, and talk
+of pleasanter things in the mean time. Kiss me, my dear girl; there's
+nobody looking."
+
+So he made peace with his sweetheart, and secured to himself, at the
+same time, the full liberty of future action of which he stood in need.
+If Phoebe asked any more questions, the necessary answer was obvious to
+the meanest capacity. He had merely to say, "The matter is beset with
+difficulties which I didn't see at first--I have given it up."
+
+Their nearest way back to Phoebe's lodgings took them through the street
+which led to the Hampden Institution. Passing along the opposite side of
+the road, they saw the private door opened. Two men stepped out. A third
+man, inside, called after one of them. "Mr. Goldenheart! you have left
+the statement of receipts in the waiting-room." "Never mind," Amelius
+answered; "the night's receipts are so small that I would rather not be
+reminded of them again." "In my country," a third voice remarked, "if
+he had lectured as he has lectured to-night, I reckon I'd have given him
+three hundred dollars, gold (sixty pounds, English currency), and have
+made my own profit by the transaction. The British nation has lost its
+taste, sir, for intellectual recreation. I wish you good evening."
+
+Jervy hurried Phoebe out of the way, just as the two gentlemen were
+crossing the street. He had not forgotten events at Tadmor--and he was
+by no means eager to renew his former acquaintance with Amelius.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 6
+
+Rufus and his young friend walked together silently as far as a large
+square. Here they stopped, having reached the point at which it was
+necessary to take different directions on their way home.
+
+"I've a word of advice, my son, for your private ear," said the New
+Englander. "The barometer behind your waistcoat points to a downhearted
+state of the moral atmosphere. Come along to home with me--you want a
+whisky cocktail badly."
+
+"No, thank you, my dear fellow," Amelius answered a little sadly. "I own
+I'm downhearted, as you say. You see, I expected this lecture to be a
+new opening for me. Personally, as you know, I don't care two straws
+about money. But my marriage depends on my adding to my income; and the
+first attempt I've made to do it has ended in a total failure. I'm all
+abroad again, when I look to the future--and I'm afraid I'm fool enough
+to let it weigh on my spirits. No, the cocktail isn't the right remedy
+for me. I don't get the exercise and fresh air, here, that I used to get
+at Tadmor. My head burns after all that talking to-night. A good long
+walk will put me right, and nothing else will."
+
+Rufus at once offered to accompany him. Amelius shook his head. "Did
+you ever walk a mile in your life, when you could ride?" he asked
+good-humouredly. "I mean to be on my legs for four or five hours; I
+should only have to send you home in a cab. Thank you, old fellow,
+for the brotherly interest you take in me. I'll breakfast with you
+to-morrow, at your hotel. Good night."
+
+Some curious prevision of evil seemed to trouble the mind of the
+good New Englander. He held Amelius fast by the hand: he said, very
+earnestly, "It goes against the grit with me to see you wandering off by
+yourself at this time of night--it does, I tell you! Do me a favour for
+once, my bright boy--go right away to bed."
+
+Amelius laughed, and released his hand. "I shouldn't sleep, if I did go
+to bed. Breakfast to-morrow, at ten o'clock. Goodnight, again!"
+
+He started on his walk, at a pace which set pursuit on the part of Rufus
+at defiance. The American stood watching him, until he was lost to sight
+in the darkness. "What a grip that young fellow has got on me, in no
+more than a few months!" Rufus thought, as he slowly turned away in
+the direction of his hotel. "Lord send the poor boy may keep clear of
+mischief this night!"
+
+Meanwhile, Amelius walked on swiftly, straight before him, careless in
+what direction he turned his steps, so long as he felt the cool air and
+kept moving.
+
+His thoughts were not at first occupied with the doubtful question of
+his marriage; the lecture was still the uppermost subject in his mind.
+He had reserved for the conclusion of his address the justification of
+his view of the future, afforded by the widespread and frightful poverty
+among the millions of the population of London alone. On this melancholy
+theme he had spoken with the eloquence of true feeling, and had produced
+a strong impression, even on those members of the audience who were most
+resolutely opposed to the opinions which he advocated. Without any undue
+exercise of self-esteem, he could look back on the close of his lecture
+with the conviction that he had really done justice to himself and to
+his cause. The retrospect of the public discussion that had followed
+failed to give him the same pleasure. His warm temper, his vehemently
+sincere belief in the truth of his own convictions, placed him at a
+serious disadvantage towards the more self-restrained speakers (all
+older than himself) who rose, one after another, to combat his views.
+More than once he had lost his temper, and had been obliged to make
+his apologies. More than once he had been indebted to the ready help
+of Rufus, who had taken part in the battle of words, with the generous
+purpose of covering his retreat. "No!" he thought to himself, with
+bitter humility, "I'm not fit for public discussions. If they put me
+into Parliament tomorrow, I should only get called to order and do
+nothing."
+
+He reached the bank of the Thames, at the eastward end of the Strand.
+
+Walking straight on, as absently as ever, he crossed Waterloo Bridge,
+and followed the broad street that lay before him on the other side. He
+was thinking of the future again: Regina was in his mind now. The one
+prospect that he could see of a tranquil and happy life--with duties as
+well as pleasures; duties that might rouse him to find the vocation
+for which he was fit--was the prospect of his marriage. What was
+the obstacle that stood in his way? The vile obstacle of money; the
+contemptible spirit of ostentation which forbade him to live humbly on
+his own sufficient little income, and insisted that he should purchase
+domestic happiness at the price of the tawdry splendour of a rich
+tradesman and his friends. And Regina, who was free to follow her
+own better impulses--Regina, whose heart acknowledged him as its
+master--bowed before the golden image which was the tutelary deity of
+her uncle's household, and said resignedly, Love must wait!
+
+Still walking blindly on, he was roused on a sudden to a sense of
+passing events. Crossing a side-street at the moment, a man caught him
+roughly by the arm, and saved him from being run over. The man had a
+broom in his hand; he was a crossing-sweeper. "I think I've earned my
+penny, sir!" he said.
+
+Amelius gave him half-a-crown. The man shouldered his broom, and tossed
+up the money, in a transport of delight. "Here's something to go home
+with!" he cried, as he caught the half-crown again.
+
+"Have you got a family at home?" Amelius asked.
+
+"Only one, sir," said the man. "The others are all dead. She's as good
+a girl and as pretty a girl as ever put on a petticoat--though I say it
+that shouldn't. Thank you kindly, sir. Good night!"
+
+Amelius looked after the poor fellow, happy at least for that night! "If
+I had only been lucky enough to fall in love with the crossing-sweeper's
+daughter," he thought bitterly, _"she_ would have married me when I
+asked her."
+
+He looked along the street. It curved away in the distance, with no
+visible limit to it. Arrived at the next side-street on his left,
+Amelius turned down it, weary of walking longer in the same direction.
+Whither it might lead him he neither knew nor cared. In his present
+humour it was a pleasurable sensation to feel himself lost in London.
+
+The short street suddenly widened; a blaze of flaring gaslight dazzled
+his eyes; he heard all round him the shouting of innumerable voices. For
+the first time since he had been in London, he found himself in one of
+the street-markets of the poor.
+
+On either side of the road, the barrows of the costermongers--the
+wandering tradesmen of the highway--were drawn up in rows; and every man
+was advertising his wares, by means of the cheap publicity of his own
+voice. Fish and vegetables; pottery and writing-paper; looking-glasses,
+saucepans, and coloured prints--all appealed together to the scantily
+filled purses of the crowds who thronged the pavement. One lusty
+vagabond stood up in a rickety donkey-cart, knee-deep in apples, selling
+a great wooden measure full for a penny, and yelling louder than all the
+rest. "Never was such apples sold in the public streets before! Sweet
+as flowers, and sound as a bell. Who says the poor ain't looked after,"
+cried the fellow, with ferocious irony, "when they can have such
+apple-sauce as this to their loin of pork? Here's nobby apples; here's
+a penn'orth for your money. Sold again! Hullo, you! you look hungry.
+Catch! there's an apple for nothing, just to taste. Be in time, be in
+time before they're all sold!" Amelius moved forward a few steps, and
+was half deafened by rival butchers, shouting, "Buy, buy, buy!" to
+audiences of ragged women, who fingered the meat doubtfully, with
+longing eyes. A little farther--and there was a blind man selling
+staylaces, and singing a Psalm; and, beyond him again, a broken-down
+soldier playing "God save the Queen" on a tin flageolet. The one silent
+person in this sordid carnival was a Lascar beggar, with a printed
+placard round his neck, addressed to "The Charitable Public." He held
+a tallow candle to illuminate the copious narrative of his misfortunes;
+and the one reader he obtained was a fat man, who scratched his head,
+and remarked to Amelius that he didn't like foreigners. Starving boys
+and girls lurked among the costermongers' barrows, and begged piteously
+on pretence of selling cigar-lights and comic songs. Furious women stood
+at the doors of public-houses, and railed on their drunken husbands for
+spending the house-money in gin. A thicker crowd, towards the middle of
+the street, poured in and out at the door of a cookshop. Here the people
+presented a less terrible spectacle--they were even touching to see.
+These were the patient poor, who bought hot morsels of sheep's heart
+and liver at a penny an ounce, with lamentable little mouthfuls of
+peas-pudding, greens, and potatoes at a halfpenny each. Pale children
+in corners supped on penny basins of soup, and looked with hungry
+admiration at their enviable neighbours who could afford to buy stewed
+eels for twopence. Everywhere there was the same noble resignation to
+their hard fate, in old and young alike. No impatience, no complaints.
+In this wretched place, the language of true gratitude was still to be
+heard, thanking the good-natured cook for a little spoonful of
+gravy thrown in for nothing--and here, humble mercy that had its one
+superfluous halfpenny to spare gave that halfpenny to utter destitution,
+and gave it with right good-will. Amelius spent all his shillings and
+sixpences, in doubling and trebling the poor little pennyworths of
+food--and left the place with tears in his eyes.
+
+He was near the end of the street by this time. The sight of the misery
+about him, and the sense of his own utter inability to remedy it,
+weighed heavily on his spirits. He thought of the peaceful and
+prosperous life at Tadmor. Were his happy brethren of the Community and
+these miserable people about him creatures of the same all-merciful God?
+The terrible doubts which come to all thinking men--the doubts which are
+not to be stifled by crying "Oh, fie!" in a pulpit--rose darkly in his
+mind. He quickened his pace. "Let me let out of it," he said to himself,
+"let me get out of it!"
+
+
+
+
+BOOK THE SIXTH. FILIA DOLOROSA
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 1
+
+Amelius found it no easy matter to pass quickly through the people
+loitering and gossiping about him. There was greater freedom for a rapid
+walker in the road. He was on the point of stepping off the pavement,
+when a voice behind him--a sweet soft voice, though it spoke very
+faintly--said, "Are you good-natured, sir?"
+
+He turned, and found himself face to face with one of the saddest
+sisterhood on earth--the sisterhood of the streets.
+
+His heart ached as he looked at her, she was so poor and so young. The
+lost creature had, to all appearance, barely passed the boundary between
+childhood and girlhood--she could hardly be more than fifteen or sixteen
+years old. Her eyes, of the purest and loveliest blue, rested on Amelius
+with a vacantly patient look, like the eyes of a suffering child. The
+soft oval outline of her face would have been perfect if the cheeks
+had been filled out; they were wasted and hollow, and sadly pale. Her
+delicate lips had none of the rosy colour of youth; and her finely
+modelled chin was disfigured by a piece of plaster covering some injury.
+She was little and thin; her worn and scanty clothing showed her frail
+youthful figure still waiting for its perfection of growth. Her pretty
+little bare hands were reddened by the raw night air. She trembled as
+Amelius looked at her in silence, with compassionate wonder. But for the
+words in which she had accosted him, it would have been impossible to
+associate her with the lamentable life that she led. The appearance of
+the girl was artlessly virginal and innocent; she looked as if she had
+passed through the contamination of the streets without being touched
+by it, without fearing it, or feeling it, or understanding it. Robed in
+pure white, with her gentle blue eyes raised to heaven, a painter might
+have shown her on his canvas as a saint or an angel; and the critical
+world would have said, Here is the true ideal--Raphael himself might
+have painted this!
+
+"You look very pale," said Amelius. "Are you ill?"
+
+"No, sir--only hungry."
+
+Her eyes half closed; she reeled from sheer weakness as she said the
+words. Amelius held her up, and looked round him. They were close to
+a stall at which coffee and slices of bread-and-butter were sold. He
+ordered some coffee to be poured out, and offered her the food. She
+thanked him and tried to eat. "I can't help it, sir," she said faintly.
+The bread dropped from her hand; her weary head sank on his shoulder.
+
+Two young women--older members of the sad sisterhood--were passing at
+the moment. "She's too far gone, sir, to eat," said one of them. "I know
+what would do her good, if you don't mind going into a public-house."
+
+"Where is it?" said Amelius. "Be quick!"
+
+One of the women led the way. The other helped Amelius to support the
+girl. They entered the crowded public-house. In less than a minute, the
+first woman had forced her way through the drunken customers at the bar,
+and had returned with a glass of port-wine and cloves. The girl revived
+as the stimulant passed her lips. She opened her innocent blue eyes
+again, in vague surprise. "I shan't die this time," she said quietly.
+
+A corner of the place was not occupied; a small empty cask stood there.
+Amelius made the poor creature sit down and rest a little. He had only
+gold in his purse; and, when the woman had paid for the wine, he offered
+her some of the change. She declined to take it. "I've got a shilling or
+two, sir," she said; "and I can take care of myself. Give it to Simple
+Sally."
+
+"You'll save her a beating, sir, for one night at least," said the other
+woman. "We call her Simple Sally, because she's a little soft, poor
+soul--hasn't grown up, you know, in her mind, since she was a child.
+Give her some of your change, sir, and you'll be doing a kind thing."
+
+All that is most unselfish, all that is most divinely compassionate and
+self-sacrificing in a woman's nature, was as beautiful and as undefiled
+as ever in these women--the outcasts of the hard highway!
+
+Amelius turned to the girl. Her head had sunk on her bosom; she was half
+asleep. She looked up as he approached her.
+
+"Would you have been beaten to-night," he asked, "if you had not met
+with me?"
+
+"Father always beats me, sir," said Simple Sally, "if I don't bring
+money home. He threw a knife at me last night. It didn't hurt much--it
+only cut me here," said the girl, pointing to the plaster on her chin.
+
+One of the women touched Amelius on the shoulder, and whispered to him.
+"He's no more her father, sir, than I am. She's a helpless creature--and
+he takes advantage of her. If I only had a place to take her to, he
+should never set eyes on her again. Show the gentleman your bosom,
+Sally."
+
+She opened her poor threadbare little shawl. Over the lovely girlish
+breast, still only growing to the rounded beauty of womanhood, there was
+a hideous blue-black bruise. Simple Sally smiled, and said, "That _did_
+hurt me, sir. I'd rather have the knife."
+
+Some of the nearest drinkers at the bar looked round and laughed.
+Amelius tenderly drew the shawl over the girl's cold bosom. "For God's
+sake, let us get away from this place!" he said.
+
+The influence of the cool night air completed Simple Sally's recovery.
+She was able to eat now. Amelius proposed retracing his steps to the
+provision-shop, and giving her the best food that the place afforded.
+She preferred the bread-and-butter at the coffee-stall. Those thick
+slices, piled up on the plate, tempted her as a luxury. On trying the
+luxury, one slice satisfied her. "I thought I was hungry enough to eat
+the whole plateful," said the girl, turning away from the stall, in the
+vacantly submissive manner which it saddened Amelius to see. He bought
+more of the bread-and-butter, on the chance that her appetite might
+revive. While he was wrapping it in a morsel of paper, one of her elder
+companions touched him and whispered, "There he is, sir!" Amelius looked
+at her. "The brute who calls himself her father," the woman explained
+impatiently.
+
+Amelius turned, and saw Simple Sally with her arm in the grasp of a
+half-drunken ruffian; one of the swarming wild beasts of Low London,
+dirtied down from head to foot to the colour of the street mud--the
+living danger and disgrace of English civilization. As Amelius eyed him,
+he drew the girl away a step or two. "You've got a gentleman this time,"
+he said to her; "I shall expect gold to-night, or else--!" He finished
+the sentence by lifting his monstrous fist, and shaking it in her
+face. Cautiously as he had lowered his tones in speaking, the words had
+reached the keenly sensitive ears of Amelius. Urged by his hot temper,
+he sprang forward. In another moment, he would have knocked the brute
+down--but for the timely interference of the arm of the law, clad in a
+policeman's great-coat. "Don't get yourself into trouble, sir," said the
+man good-humouredly. "Now, you Hell-fire (that's the nice name they know
+him by, sir, in these parts), be off with you!" The wild beast on two
+legs cowered at the voice of authority, like the wild beast on four: he
+was lost to sight, at the dark end of the street, in a moment.
+
+"I saw him threaten her with his fist," said Amelius, his eyes still
+aflame with indignation. "He has bruised her frightfully on the breast.
+Is there no protection for the poor creature?"
+
+"Well, sir," the policeman answered, "you can summon him if you like. I
+dare say he'd get a month's hard labour. But, don't you see, it would be
+all the worse for her when he came out of prison."
+
+The policeman's view of the girl's position was beyond dispute. Amelius
+turned to her gently; she was shivering with cold or terror, perhaps
+with both. "Tell me," he said, "is that man really your father?"
+
+"Lord bless you, sir!" interposed the policeman, astonished at the
+gentleman's simplicity, "Simple Sally hasn't got father or mother--have
+you, my girl?"
+
+She paid no heed to the policeman. The sorrow and sympathy, plainly
+visible in Amelius, filled her with a childish interest and surprise.
+She dimly understood that it was sorrow and sympathy for _her._ The
+bare idea of distressing this new friend, so unimaginably kind and
+considerate, seemed to frighten her. "Don't fret about _me,_ sir," she
+said timidly; "I don't mind having no father nor mother; I don't mind
+being beaten." She appealed to the nearest of her two women-friends. "We
+get used to everything, don't we, Jenny?"
+
+Amelius could bear no more. "It's enough to break one's heart to hear
+you, and see you!" he burst out--and suddenly turned his head aside. His
+generous nature was touched to the quick; he could only control himself
+by an effort of resolution that shook him, body and soul. "I can't and
+won't let that unfortunate creature go back to be beaten and starved!"
+he said, passionately addressing himself to the policeman. "Oh, look at
+her! How helpless, and how young!"
+
+The policeman stared. These were strange words to him. But all true
+emotion carries with it, among all true people, its own title to
+respect. He spoke to Amelius with marked respect.
+
+"It's a hard case, sir, no doubt," he said. "The girl's a quiet,
+well-disposed creature--and the other two there are the same. They're of
+the sort that keep to themselves, and don't drink. They all of them do
+well enough, as long as they don't let the liquor overcome them. Half
+the time it's the men's fault when they do drink. Perhaps the workhouse
+might take her in for the night. What's this you've got girl, in your
+hand? Money?"
+
+Amelius hastened to say that he had given her the money. "The
+workhouse!" he repeated. "The very sound of it is horrible."
+
+"Make your mind easy, sir," said the policeman; "they won't take her in
+at the workhouse, with money in her hand."
+
+In sheer despair, Amelius asked helplessly if there was no hotel near.
+The policeman pointed to Simple Sally's threadbare and scanty clothes,
+and left them to answer the question for themselves. "There's a place
+they call a coffee-house," he said, with the air of a man who thought
+he had better provoke as little further inquiry on that subject as
+possible.
+
+Too completely pre-occupied, or too innocent in the ways of London,
+to understand the man, Amelius decided on trying the coffee-house. A
+suspicious old woman met them at the door, and spied the policeman in
+the background. Without waiting for any inquiries, she said, "All full
+for to-night,"--and shut the door in their faces.
+
+"Is there no other place?" said Amelius.
+
+"There's a lodging-house," the policeman answered, more doubtfully than
+ever. "It's getting late, sir; and I'm afraid you'll find 'em packed
+like herrings in a barrel. Come, and see for yourself."
+
+He led the way into a wretchedly lighted by-street, and knocked with
+his foot on a trap-door in the pavement. The door was pushed open from
+below, by a sturdy boy with a dirty night-cap on his head.
+
+"Any of 'em wanted to-night, sir?" asked the sturdy boy, the moment he
+saw the policeman.
+
+"What does he mean?" said Amelius.
+
+"There's a sprinkling of thieves among them, sir," the policeman
+explained. "Stand out of the way, Jacob, and let the gentleman look in."
+
+He produced his lantern, and directed the light downwards, as he spoke.
+Amelius looked in. The policeman's figure of speech, likening the
+lodgers to "herrings in a barrel," accurately described the scene.
+On the floor of a kitchen, men, women, and children lay all huddled
+together in closely packed rows. Ghastly faces rose terrified out of
+the seething obscurity, when the light of the lantern fell on them. The
+stench drove Amelius back, sickened and shuddering.
+
+"How's the sore place on your head, Jacob?" the policeman inquired.
+"This is a civil boy," he explained to Amelius, "and I like to encourage
+him."
+
+"I'm getting better, sir, as fast as I can," said the boy.
+
+"Good night, Jacob."
+
+"Good night, sir." The trap-door fell--and the lodging-house disappeared
+like the vision of a frightful dream.
+
+There was a moment of silence among the little group on the pavement. It
+was not easy to solve the question of what to do next. "There seems to
+be some difficulty," the policeman remarked, "about housing this girl
+for the night."
+
+"Why shouldn't we take her along with us?" one of the women suggested.
+"She won't mind sleeping three in a bed, I know."
+
+"What are you thinking of?" the other woman remonstrated. "When he finds
+she don't come home, our place will be the first place he looks for her
+in."
+
+Amelius settled the difficulty, in his own headlong way, "I'll take care
+of her for the night," he said. "Sally, will you trust yourself with
+me?"
+
+She put her hand in his, with the air of a child who was ready to go
+home. Her wan face brightened for the first time. "Thank you, sir," she
+said; "I'll go anywhere along with you."
+
+The policeman smiled. The two women looked thunderstruck. Before they
+had recovered themselves, Amelius forced them to take some money from
+him, and cordially shook hands with them. "You're good creatures," he
+said, in his eager, hearty way; "I'm sincerely sorry for you. Now, Mr.
+Policeman, show me where to find a cab--and take that for the trouble I
+am giving you. You're a humane man, and a credit to the force."
+
+In five minutes more, Amelius was on the way to his lodgings, with
+Simple Sally by his side. The act of reckless imprudence which he was
+committing was nothing but an act of Christian duty, to his mind. Not
+the slightest misgiving troubled him. "I shall provide for her in some
+way!" he thought to himself cheerfully. He looked at her. The weary
+outcast was asleep already in her corner of the cab. From time to time
+she still shivered, even in her sleep. Amelius took off his great-coat,
+and covered her with it. How some of his friends at the club would have
+laughed, if they had seen him at that moment!
+
+He was obliged to wake her when the cab stopped. His key admitted them
+to the house. He lit his candle in the hall, and led her up the stairs.
+"You'll soon be asleep again, Sally," he whispered.
+
+She looked round the little sitting-room with drowsy admiration. "What a
+pretty place to live in!" she said.
+
+"Are you hungry again?" Amelius asked.
+
+She shook her head, and took off her shabby bonnet; her pretty
+light-brown hair fell about her face and her shoulders. "I think I'm too
+tired, sir, to be hungry. Might I take the sofa-pillow, and lay down on
+the hearth-rug?"
+
+Amelius opened the door of his bedroom. "You are to pass the night more
+comfortably than that," he answered. "There is a bed for you here."
+
+She followed him in, and looked round the bedroom, with renewed
+admiration of everything that she saw. At the sight of the hairbrushes
+and the comb, she clapped her hands in ecstasy. "Oh, how different from
+mine!" she exclaimed. "Is the comb tortoise-shell, sir, like one sees
+in the shop-windows?" The bath and the towels attracted her next; she
+stood, looking at them with longing eyes, completely forgetful of the
+wonderful comb. "I've often peeped into the ironmongers' shops," she
+said, "and thought I should be the happiest girl in the world, if I had
+such a bath as that. A little pitcher is all I have got of my own, and
+they swear at me when I want it filled more than once. In all my life, I
+have never had as much water as I should like." She paused, and thought
+for a moment. The forlorn, vacant look appeared again, and dimmed the
+beauty of her blue eyes. "It will be hard to go back, after seeing all
+these pretty things," she said to herself--and sighed, with that inborn
+submission to her fate so melancholy to see in a creature so young.
+
+"You shall never go back again to that dreadful life," Amelius
+interposed. "Never speak of it, never think of it any more. Oh, don't
+look at me like that!"
+
+She was listening with an expression of pain, and with both her hands
+lifted to her head. There was something so wonderful in the idea which
+he had suggested to her, that her mind was not able to take it all in
+at once. "You make my head giddy," she said. "I'm such a poor stupid
+girl--I feel out of myself, like, when a gentleman like you sets me
+thinking of new things. Would you mind saying it again, sir?"
+
+"I'll say it to-morrow morning," Amelius rejoined kindly. "You are
+tired, Sally--go to rest."
+
+She roused herself, and looked at the bed. "Is that your bed, sir?"
+
+"It's your bed to-night," said Amelius. "I shall sleep on the sofa, in
+the next room."
+
+Her eyes rested on him, for a moment, in speechless surprise; she looked
+back again at the bed. "Are you going to leave me by myself?" she asked
+wonderingly. Not the faintest suggestion of immodesty--nothing that
+the most profligate man living could have interpreted impurely--showed
+itself in her look or manner, as she said those words.
+
+Amelius thought of what one of her women-friends had told him. "She
+hasn't grown up, you know, in her mind, since she was a child." There
+were other senses in the poor victim that were still undeveloped,
+besides the mental sense. He was at a loss how to answer her, with the
+respect which was due to that all-atoning ignorance. His silence amazed
+and frightened her.
+
+"Have I said anything to make you angry with me?" she asked.
+
+Amelius hesitated no longer. "My poor girl," he said, "I pity you from
+the bottom of my heart! Sleep well, Simple Sally--sleep well." He left
+her hurriedly, and shut the door between them.
+
+She followed him as far as the closed door; and stood there alone,
+trying to understand him, and trying all in vain! After a while, she
+found courage enough to whisper through the door. "If you please, sir--"
+She stopped, startled by her own boldness. He never heard her; he was
+standing at the window, looking out thoughtfully at the night; feeling
+less confident of the future already. She still stood at the door,
+wretched in the firm persuasion that she had offended him. Once she
+lifted her hand to knock at the door, and let it drop again at her
+side. A second time she made the effort, and desperately summoned the
+resolution to knock. He opened the door directly.
+
+"I'm very sorry if I said anything wrong," she began faintly, her breath
+coming and going in quick hysteric gasps. "Please forgive me, and wish
+me good night." Amelius took her hand; he said good night with the
+utmost gentleness, but he said it sorrowfully. She was not quite
+comforted yet. "Would you mind, sir--?" She paused awkwardly, afraid
+to go on. There was something so completely childlike in the artless
+perplexity of her eyes, that Amelius smiled. The change in his
+expression gave her back her courage in an instant; her pale delicate
+lips reflected his smile prettily. "Would you mind giving me a kiss,
+sir?" she said. Amelius kissed her. Let the man who can honestly say he
+would have done otherwise, blame him. He shut the door between them once
+more. She was quite happy now. He heard her singing to herself as she
+got ready for bed.
+
+Once, in the wakeful watches of the night, she startled him. He heard a
+cry of pain or terror in the bedroom. "What is it?" he asked through the
+door; "what has frightened you?" There was no answer. After a minute or
+two, the cry was repeated. He opened the door, and looked in. She was
+sleeping, and dreaming as she slept. One little thin white arm was
+lifted in the air, and waved restlessly to and fro over her head. "Don't
+kill me!" she murmured, in low moaning tones--"oh, don't kill me!"
+Amelius took her arm gently, and laid it back on the coverlet of the
+bed. His touch seemed to exercise some calming influence over her: she
+sighed, and turned her head on the pillow; a faint flush rose on her
+wasted cheeks, and passed away again--she sank quietly into dreamless
+sleep.
+
+Amelius returned to his sofa, and fell into a broken slumber. The
+hours of the night passed. The sad light of the November morning dawned
+mistily through the uncurtained window, and woke him.
+
+He started up, and looked at the bedroom door. "Now what is to be done?"
+That was his first thought, on waking: he was beginning to feel his
+responsibilities at last.
+
+
+CHAPTER 2
+
+The landlady of the lodgings decided what was to be done.
+
+"You will be so good, sir, as to leave my apartments immediately," she
+said to Amelius. "I make no claim to the week's rent, in consideration
+of the short notice. This is a respectable house, and it shall be kept
+respectable at any sacrifice."
+
+Amelius explained and protested; he appealed to the landlady's sense of
+justice and sense of duty, as a Christian woman.
+
+The reasoning which would have been irresistible at Tadmor was reasoning
+completely thrown away in London. The landlady remained as impenetrable
+as the Egyptian Sphinx. "If that creature in the bedroom is not out
+of my house in an hour's time, I shall send for the police." Having
+answered her lodger's arguments in those terms, she left the room, and
+banged the door after her.
+
+"Thank you, sir, for being so kind to me. I'll go away directly--and
+then, perhaps, the lady will forgive you."
+
+Amelius looked round. Simple Sally had heard it all. She was dressed in
+her wretched clothes, and was standing at the open bedroom door, crying,
+
+"Wait a little," said Amelius, wiping her eyes with his own
+handkerchief; "and we will go away together. I want to get you some
+better clothes; and I don't exactly know how to set about it. Don't cry,
+my dear--don't cry."
+
+The deaf maid-of-all-work came in, as he spoke. She too was in tears.
+Amelius had been good to her, in many little ways--and she was the
+guilty person who had led to the discovery in the bedroom. "If you had
+only told me, sir," she said pentitently, "I'd have kep' it secret. But,
+there, I went in with your 'ot water, as usual, and, O Lor', I was that
+startled I dropped the jug, and run downstairs again--!"
+
+Amelius stopped the further progress of the apology. "I don't blame you,
+Maria," he said; "I'm in a difficulty. Help me out of it; and you will
+do me a kindness."
+
+Maria partially heard him, and no more. Afraid of reaching the
+landlady's ears, as well as the maid's ears, if he raised his voice, he
+asked if she could read writing. Yes, she could read writing, if it was
+plain. Amelius immediately reduced the expression of his necessities to
+writing, in large text. Maria was delighted. She knew the nearest shop
+at which ready-made outer clothing for women could be obtained, and
+nothing was wanted, as a certain guide to an ignorant man, but two
+pieces of string. With one piece, she measured Simple Sally's height,
+and with the other she took the slender girth of the girl's waist--while
+Amelius opened his writing-desk, and supplied himself with the last sum
+of spare money that he possessed. He had just closed the desk again,
+when the voice of the merciless landlady was heard, calling imperatively
+for Maria.
+
+The maid-of-all-work handed the two indicative strings to Amelius.
+"They'll 'elp you at the shop," she said--and shuffled out of the room.
+
+Amelius turned to Simple Sally. "I am going to get you some new
+clothes," he began.
+
+The girl stopped him there: she was incapable of listening to a word
+more. Every trace of sorrow vanished from her face in an instant. She
+clapped her hands. "Oh!" she cried, "new clothes! clean clothes! Let me
+go with you."
+
+Even Amelius saw that it was impossible to take her out in the streets
+with him in broad daylight, dressed as she was then. "No, no," he said,
+"wait here till you get your new things. I won't be half an hour gone.
+Lock yourself in if you're afraid, and open the door to nobody till I
+come back!"
+
+Sally hesitated; she began to look frightened.
+
+"Think of the new dress, and the pretty bonnet," suggested Amelius,
+speaking unconsciously in the tone in which he might have promised a toy
+to a child.
+
+He had taken the right way with her. Her face brightened again. "I'll do
+anything you tell me," she said.
+
+He put the key in her hand, and was out in the street directly.
+
+Amelius possessed one valuable moral quality which is exceedingly rare
+among Englishmen. He was not in the least ashamed of putting himself
+in a ridiculous position, when he was conscious that his own motives
+justified him. The smiling and tittering of the shop-women, when he
+stated the nature of his errand, and produced his two pieces of string,
+failed to annoy him in the smallest degree. He laughed too. "Funny,
+isn't it," he said, "a man like me buying gowns and the rest of it? She
+can't come herself--and you'll advise me, like good creatures, won't
+you?" They advised their handsome young customer to such good purpose,
+that he was in possession of a gray walking costume, a black cloth
+jacket, a plain lavender-coloured bonnet, a pair of black gloves, and
+a paper of pins, in little more than ten minutes' time. The nearest
+trunk-maker supplied a travelling-box to hold all these treasures; and a
+passing cab took Amelius back to his lodgings, just as the half-hour
+was out. But one event had happened during his absence. The landlady had
+knocked at the door, had called through it in a terrible voice, "Half an
+hour more!" and had retired again without waiting for an answer.
+
+Amelius carried the box into the bedroom. "Be as quick as you can,
+Sally," he said--and left her alone, to enjoy the full rapture of
+discovering the new clothes.
+
+When she opened the door and showed herself, the change was so wonderful
+that Amelius was literally unable to speak to her. Joy flushed her pale
+cheeks, and diffused its tender radiance over her pure blue eyes. A more
+charming little creature, in that momentary transfiguration of pride
+and delight, no man's eyes ever looked on. She ran across the room to
+Amelius, and threw her arms round his neck. "Let me be your servant!"
+she cried; "I want to live with you all my life. Jump me up! I'm wild--I
+want to fly through the window." She caught sight of herself in the
+looking-glass, and suddenly became composed and serious. "Oh," she said,
+with the quaintest mixture of awe and astonishment, "was there ever such
+another bonnet as this? Do look at it--do please look at it!"
+
+Amelius good-naturedly approached to look at it. At the same moment
+the sitting-room door was opened, without any preliminary ceremony of
+knocking--and Rufus walked into the room. "It's half after ten," he
+said, "and the breakfast is spoiling as fast as it can."
+
+Before Amelius could make his excuses for having completely forgotten
+his engagement, Rufus discovered Sally. No woman, young or old, high in
+rank or low in rank, ever found the New Englander unprepared with his
+own characteristic acknowledgment of the debt of courtesy which he owed
+to the sex. With his customary vast strides, he marched up to Sally and
+insisted on shaking hands with her. "How do you find yourself, miss? I
+take pleasure in making your acquaintance." The girl turned to Amelius
+with wide-eyed wonder and doubt. "Go into the next room, Sally, for a
+minute or two," he said. "This gentleman is a friend of mine, and I have
+something to say to him."
+
+"That's an _active_ little girl," said Rufus, looking after her as she
+ran to the friendly shelter of the bedroom. "Reminds me of one of our
+girls at Coolspring--she does. Well, now, and who may Sally be?"
+
+Amelius answered the question, as usual, without the slightest reserve.
+Rufus waited in impenetrable silence until he had completed his
+narrative--then took him gently by the arm, and led him to the window.
+With his hands in his pockets and his long legs planted wide apart
+on his big feet, the American carefully studied the face of his young
+friend under the strongest light that could fall on it.
+
+"No," said Rufus, speaking quietly to himself, "the boy is not raving
+mad, so far as I can see. He has every appearance on him of meaning what
+he says. And this is what comes of the Community of Tadmor, is it? Well,
+civil and religious liberty is dearly purchased sometimes in the United
+States--and that's a fact."
+
+Amelius turned away to pack his portmanteau. "I don't understand you,"
+he said.
+
+"I don't suppose you do," Rufus remarked. "I am at a similar loss myself
+to understand _you._ My store of sensible remarks is copious on most
+occasions--but I'm darned if I ain't dried up in the face of this! Might
+I venture to ask what that venerable Chief Christian at Tadmor would say
+to the predicament in which I find my young Socialist this morning?"
+
+"What would he say?" Amelius repeated. "Just what he said when Mellicent
+first came among us. 'Ah, dear me! Another of the Fallen Leaves!' I wish
+I had the dear old man here to help me. _He_ would know how to restore
+that poor starved, outraged, beaten creature to the happy place on God's
+earth which God intended her to fill!"
+
+Rufus abruptly took him by the hand. "You mean that?" he said.
+
+"What else could I mean?" Amelius rejoined sharply.
+
+"Bring her right away to breakfast at the hotel!" cried Rufus, with
+every appearance of feeling infinitely relieved. "I don't say I can
+supply you with the venerable Chief Christian--but I can find a woman
+to fix you, who is as nigh to being an angel, barring the wings, as any
+she-creature since the time of mother Eve." He knocked at the bedroom
+door, turning a deaf ear to every appeal for further information which
+Amelius could address to him. "Breakfast is waiting, miss!" he called
+out; "and I'm bound to tell you that the temper of the cook at our hotel
+is a long way on the wrong side of uncertain. Well, Amelius, this is
+the age of exhibition. If there's ever an exhibition of ignorance in
+the business of packing a portmanteau, you run for the Gold Medal--and a
+unanimous jury will vote it, I reckon, to a young man from Tadmor. Clear
+out, will you, and leave it to me."
+
+He pulled off his coat, and conquered the difficulties of packing in
+a hurry, as if he had done nothing else all his life. The landlady
+herself, appearing with pitiless punctuality exactly at the expiration
+of the hour, "smoothed her horrid front" in the polite and placable
+presence of Rufus. He insisted on shaking hands with her; he took
+pleasure in making her acquaintance; she reminded him, he did assure
+her, of the lady of the captain-general of the Coolspring Branch of the
+St. Vitus Commandery; and he would take the liberty to inquire whether
+they were related or not. Under cover of this fashionable conversation,
+Simple Sally was taken out of the room by Amelius without attracting
+notice. She insisted on carrying her threadbare old clothes away with
+her in the box which had contained the new dress. "I want to look at
+them sometimes," she said, "and think how much better off I am now."
+Rufus was the last to take his departure; he persisted in talking to the
+landlady all the way down the stairs and out to the street door.
+
+While Amelius was waiting for his friend on the house-steps, a young
+man driving by in a cab leaned out and looked at him. The young man was
+Jervy, on his way from Mr. Ronald's tombstone to Doctors' Commons.
+
+
+CHAPTER 3
+
+With a rapid succession of events the morning had begun. With a rapid
+succession of events the day went on.
+
+The breakfast being over, rooms at the hotel were engaged by Rufus for
+his "two young friends." After this, the next thing to be done was to
+provide Simple Sally with certain necessary, but invisible, articles of
+clothing, which Amelius had never thought of. A note to the nearest shop
+produced the speedy arrival of a smart lady, accompanied by a boy and
+a large basket. There was some difficulty in persuading Sally to trust
+herself alone in her room with the stranger. She was afraid, poor soul,
+of everybody but Amelius. Even the good American failed to win her
+confidence. The distrust implanted in her feeble mind by the terrible
+life that she had led, was the instinctive distrust of a wild animal.
+"Why must I go among other people?" she whispered piteously to Amelius.
+"I only want to be with You!" It was as completely useless to
+reason with her as it would have been to explain the advantages of
+a comfortable cage to a newly caught bird. There was but one way of
+inducing her to submit to the most gently exerted interference. Amelius
+had only to say, "Do it, Sally, to please me." And Sally sighed, and did
+it.
+
+In her absence Amelius reiterated his inquiries, in relation to
+that unknown friend whom Rufus had not scrupled to describe as "an
+angel--barring the wings."
+
+The lady in question, the American briefly explained, was an
+Englishwoman--the wife of one of his countrymen, established in London
+as a merchant. He had known them both intimately before their departure
+from the United States; and the old friendship had been cordially
+renewed on his arrival in England. Associated with many other charitable
+institutions, Mrs. Payson was one of the managing committee of a "Home
+for Friendless Women," especially adapted to receive poor girls in
+Sally's melancholy position. Rufus offered to write a note to Mrs.
+Payson; inquiring at what hour she could receive his friend and himself,
+and obtain permission for them to see the "Home." Amelius, after some
+hesitation, accepted the proposal. The messenger had not been long
+despatched with the note before the smart person from the shop made her
+appearance once more, reporting that "the young lady's outfit had been
+perfectly arranged," and presenting the inevitable result in the shape
+of a bill. The last farthing of ready money in the possession of Amelius
+proved to be insufficient to discharge the debt. He accepted a loan from
+Rufus, until he could give his bankers the necessary order to sell
+out some of his money invested in the Funds. His answer, when Rufus
+protested against this course, was characteristic of the teaching which
+he owed to the Community. "My dear fellow, I am bound to return the
+money you have lent to me--in the interests of our poor brethren. The
+next friend who borrows of you may not have the means of paying you
+back."
+
+After waiting for the return of Simple Sally, and waiting in vain,
+Amelius sent a chambermaid to her room, with a message to her. Rufus
+disapproved of this hasty proceeding. "Why disturb the girl at her
+looking-glass?" asked the old bachelor, with his quaintly humorous
+smile.
+
+Sally came in with no bright pleasure in her eyes this time; the girl
+looked worn and haggard. She drew Amelius away into a corner, and
+whispered to him. "I get a pain sometimes where the bruise is," she
+said; "and I've got it bad, now." She glanced, with an odd furtive
+jealousy, at Rufus. "I kept away from you," she explained, "because I
+didn't want _him_ to know." She stopped, and put her hand on her bosom,
+and clenched her teeth fast. "Never mind," she said cheerfully, as the
+pang passed away again; "I can bear it."
+
+Amelius, acting on impulse, as usual, instantly ordered the most
+comfortable carriage that the hotel possessed. He had heard terrible
+stories of the possible result of an injury to a woman's bosom. "I shall
+take her to the best doctor in London," he announced. Sally whispered
+to him again--still with her eye on Rufus. "Is _he_ going with us?"
+she asked. "No," said Amelius; "one of us must stay here to receive a
+message." Rufus looked after them very gravely, as the two left the room
+together.
+
+Applying for information to the mistress of the hotel, Amelius obtained
+the address of a consulting surgeon of great celebrity, while Sally was
+getting ready to go out.
+
+"Why don't you like my good friend upstairs?" he said to the girl as
+they drove away from the house. The answer came swift and straight from
+the heart of the daughter of Eve. "Because _you_ like him!" Amelius
+changed the subject: he asked if she was still in pain. She shook her
+head impatiently. Pain or no pain, the uppermost idea in her mind was
+still that idea of being his servant, which had already found expression
+in words before they left the lodgings. "Will you let me keep my
+beautiful new dress for going out on Sundays?" she asked. "The shabby
+old things will do when I am your servant. I can black your boots, and
+brush your clothes, and keep your room tidy--and I will try hard to
+learn, if you will have me taught to cook." Amelius attempted to change
+the subject again. He might as well have talked to her in an unknown
+tongue. The glorious prospect of being his servant absorbed the whole of
+her attention. "I'm little and I'm stupid," she went on; "but I do think
+I could learn to cook, if I knew I was doing it for _You."_ She paused,
+and looked at him anxiously. "Do let me try!" she pleaded; "I haven't
+had much pleasure in my life--and I should like it so!" It was
+impossible to resist this. "You shall be as happy as I can make you,
+Sally," Amelius answered; "God knows it isn't much you ask for!"
+
+Something in those compassionate words set her thinking in another
+direction. It was sad to see how slowly and painfully she realized the
+idea that had been suggested to her.
+
+"I wonder whether you _can_ make me happy?" she said. "I suppose I have
+been happy before this--but I don't know when. I don't remember a time
+when I was not hungry or cold. Wait a bit. I do think I _was_ happy
+once. It was a long while ago, and it took me a weary time to do it--but
+I did learn at last to play a tune on the fiddle. The old man and his
+wife took it in turns to teach me. Somebody gave me to the old man and
+his wife; I don't know who it was, and I don't remember their names.
+They were musicians. In the fine streets they sang hymns, and in the
+poor streets they sang comic songs. It was cold, to be sure, standing
+barefoot on the pavement--but I got plenty of halfpence. The people said
+I was so little it was a shame to send me out, and so I got halfpence.
+I had bread and apples for supper, and a nice little corner under the
+staircase, to sleep in. Do you know, I do think I did enjoy myself at
+that time," she concluded, still a little doubtful whether those faint
+and far-off remembrances were really to be relied on.
+
+Amelius tried to lead her to other recollections. He asked her how old
+she was when she played the fiddle.
+
+"I don't know," she answered; "I don't know how old I am now. I don't
+remember anything before the fiddle. I can't call to mind how long it
+was first--but there came a time when the old man and his wife got into
+trouble. They went to prison, and I never saw them afterwards. I ran
+away with the fiddle; to get the halfpence, you know, all to myself. I
+think I should have got a deal of money, if it hadn't been for the boys.
+They're so cruel, the boys are. They broke my fiddle. I tried selling
+pencils after that; but people didn't seem to want pencils. They
+found me out begging. I got took up, and brought before the
+what-do-you-call-him--the gentleman who sits in a high place, you know,
+behind a desk. Oh, but I was frightened, when they took me before the
+gentleman! He looked very much puzzled. He says, 'Bring her up here;
+she's so small I can hardly see her.' He says, 'Good God! what am I to
+do with this unfortunate child?' There was plenty of people about. One
+of them says, 'The workhouse ought to take her.' And a lady came in, and
+she says, 'I'll take her, sir, if you'll let me.' And he knew her, and
+he let her. She took me to a place they called a Refuge--for wandering
+children, you know. It was very strict at the Refuge. They did give
+us plenty to eat, to be sure, and they taught us lessons. They told us
+about Our Father up in Heaven. I said a wrong thing--I said, 'I don't
+want him up in Heaven; I want him down here.' They were very much
+ashamed of me when I said that. I was a bad girl; I turned ungrateful.
+After a time, I ran away. You see, it was so strict, and I was so used
+to the streets. I met with a Scotchman in the streets. He wore a kilt,
+and played the pipes; he taught me to dance, and dressed me up like a
+Scotch girl. He had a curious wife, a sort of half-black woman. She used
+to dance too--on a bit of carpet, you know, so as not to spoil her fine
+shoes. They taught me songs; he taught me a Scotch song. And one day
+his wife said _she_ was English (I don't know how that was, being
+a half-black woman), and I should learn an English song. And they
+quarrelled about it. And she had her way. She taught me 'Sally in our
+Alley'. That's how I come to be called Sally. I hadn't any name of my
+own--I always had nicknames. Sally was the last of them, and Sally has
+stuck to me. I hope it isn't too common a name to please you? Oh, what a
+fine house! Are we really going in? Will they let _me_ in? How stupid
+I am! I forgot my beautiful clothes. You won't tell them, will you, if
+they take me for a lady?"
+
+The carriage had stopped at the great surgeon's house: the waiting-room
+was full of patients. Some of them were trying to read the books and
+newspapers on the table; and some of them were looking at each other,
+not only without the slightest sympathy, but occasionally even with
+downright distrust and dislike. Amelius took up a newspaper, and gave
+Sally an illustrated book to amuse her, while they waited to see the
+Surgeon in their turn.
+
+Two long hours passed, before the servant summoned Amelius to the
+consulting-room. Sally was wearily asleep in her chair. He left her
+undisturbed, having questions to put relating to the imperfectly
+developed state of her mind, which could not be asked in her presence.
+The surgeon listened, with no ordinary interest, to the young stranger's
+simple and straightforward narrative of what had happened on the
+previous night. "You are very unlike other young men," he said; "may I
+ask how you have been brought up?" The reply surprised him. "This opens
+quite a new view of Socialism," he said. "I thought your conduct highly
+imprudent at first--it seems to be the natural result of your teaching
+now. Let me see what I can do to help you."
+
+He was very grave and very gentle, when Sally was presented to him.
+His opinion of the injury to her bosom relieved the anxiety of Amelius:
+there might be pain for some little time to come, but there were no
+serious consequences to fear. Having written his prescription, and
+having put several questions to Sally, the surgeon sent her back, with
+marked kindness of manner, to wait for Amelius in the patients' room.
+
+"I have young daughters of my own," he said, when the door was closed;
+"and I cannot but feel for that unhappy creature, when I contrast her
+life with theirs. So far as I can see it, the natural growth of her
+senses--her higher and her lower senses alike--has been stunted, like
+the natural growth of her body, by starvation, terror, exposure to
+cold, and other influences inherent in the life that she has led. With
+nourishing food, pure air, and above all kind and careful treatment,
+I see no reason, at her age, why she should not develop into an
+intelligent and healthy young woman. Pardon me if I venture on giving
+you a word of advice. At your time of life, you will do well to place
+her at once under competent and proper care. You may live to regret
+it, if you are too confident in your own good motives in such a case
+as this. Come to me again, if I can be of any use to you. No," he
+continued, refusing to take his fee; "my help to that poor lost girl is
+help given freely." He shook hands with Amelius--a worthy member of the
+noble order to which he belonged.
+
+The surgeon's parting advice, following on the quaint protest of Rufus,
+had its effect on Amelius. He was silent and thoughtful when he got into
+the carriage again.
+
+Simple Sally looked at him with a vague sense of alarm. Her heart beat
+fast, under the perpetually recurring fear that she had done something
+or said something to offend him. "Was it bad behaviour in me," she
+asked, "to fall asleep in the chair?" Reassured, so far, she was still
+as anxious as ever to get at the truth. After long hesitation, and long
+previous thought, she ventured to try another question. "The gentleman
+sent me out of the room--did he say anything to set you against me?"
+
+"The gentleman said everything that was kind of you," Amelius replied,
+"and everything to make me hope that you will live to be a happy girl."
+
+She said nothing to that; vague assurances were no assurances to
+her--she only looked at him with the dumb fidelity of a dog. Suddenly,
+she dropped on her knees in the carriage, hid her face in her hands, and
+cried silently. Surprised and distressed, he attempted to raise her and
+console her. "No!" she said obstinately. "Something has happened to vex
+you, and you won't tell me what it is. Do, do, do tell me what it is!"
+
+"My dear child," said Amelius, "I was only thinking anxiously about you,
+in the time to come."
+
+She looked up at him quickly. "What! have you forgotten already?" she
+exclaimed. "I'm to be your servant in the time to come." She dried her
+eyes, and took her place again joyously by his side. "You did frighten
+me," she said, "and all for nothing. But you didn't mean it, did you?"
+
+An older man might have had the courage to undeceive her: Amelius shrank
+from it. He tried to lead her back to the melancholy story--so common
+and so terrible; so pitiable in its utter absence of sentiment or
+romance--the story of her past life.
+
+"No," she answered, with that quick insight where her feelings were
+concerned, which was the only quick insight that she possessed. "I don't
+like making you sorry; and you did look sorry--you did--when I talked
+about it before. The streets, the streets, the streets; little girl, or
+big girl, it's only the streets; and always being hungry or cold; and
+cruel men when it isn't cruel boys. I want to be happy! I want to enjoy
+my new clothes! You tell me about your own self. What makes you so kind?
+I can't make it out; try as I may, I can't make it out."
+
+Some time elapsed before they got back to the hotel. Amelius drove as
+far as the City, to give the necessary instructions to his bankers.
+
+On returning to the sitting-room at last, he discovered that his
+American friend was not alone. A gray-haired lady with a bright
+benevolent face was talking earnestly to Rufus. The instant Sally
+discovered the stranger, she started back, fled to the shelter of her
+bedchamber, and locked herself in. Amelius, entering the room after a
+little hesitation, was presented to Mrs. Payson.
+
+"There was something in my old friend's note," said the lady, smiling
+and turning to Rufus, "which suggested to me that I should do well to
+answer it personally. I am not too old yet to follow the impulse of the
+moment, sometimes; and I am very glad that I did so. I have heard what
+is, to me, a very interesting story. Mr. Goldenheart, I respect you! And
+I will prove it by helping you, with all my heart and soul, to save that
+poor little girl who has just run away from me. Pray don't make excuses
+for her; I should have run away too, at her age. We have arranged," she
+continued, looking again at Rufus, "that I shall take you both to the
+Home, this afternoon. If we can prevail on Sally to go with us, one
+serious obstacle in our way will be overcome. Tell me the number of her
+room. I want to try if I can't make friends with her. I have had some
+experience; and I don't despair of bringing her back here, hand in hand
+with the terrible person who has frightened her."
+
+The two men were left together. Amelius attempted to speak.
+
+"Keep it down," said Rufus; "no premature outbreak of opinion, if you
+please, yet awhile. Wait till she has fixed Sally, and shown us the
+Paradise of the poor girls. It's within the London postal district, and
+that's all I know about it. Well, now, and did you go to the doctor?
+Thunder! what's come to the boy? Seems as though he had left his
+complexion in the carriage! He looks, I do declare, as if he wanted
+medical tinkering himself."
+
+Amelius explained that his past night had been a wakeful one, and that
+the events of the day had not allowed him any opportunities of repose.
+"Since the morning," he said, "things have hurried so, one on the top
+of the other, that I am beginning to feel a little dazed and weary."
+Without a word of remark, Rufus produced the remedy. The materials were
+ready on the sideboard--he made a cocktail.
+
+"Another?" asked the New Englander, after a reasonable lapse of time.
+
+Amelius declined taking another. He stretched himself on the sofa; his
+good friend considerately took up a newspaper. For the first time that
+day, he had now the prospect of a quiet interval for rest and thought.
+In less than a minute the delusive prospect vanished. He started to his
+feet again, disturbed by a new anxiety. Having leisure to think, he had
+thought of Regina. "Good heavens!" he exclaimed; "she's waiting to see
+me--and I never remembered it till this moment!" He looked at his watch:
+it was five o'clock. "What am I to do?" he said helplessly.
+
+Rufus laid down the newspaper, and considered the new difficulty in its
+various aspects.
+
+"We are bound to go with Mrs. Payson to the Home," he said; "and, I
+tell you this, Amelius, the matter of Sally is not a matter to be played
+with; it's a thing that's got to be done. In your place I should write
+politely to Miss Regina, and put it off till to-morrow."
+
+In ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, a man who took Rufus for his
+counsellor was a man who acted wisely in every sense of the word.
+Events, however, of which Amelius and his friend were both ignorant
+alike, had so ordered it, that the American's well-meant advice, in this
+one exceptional case, was the very worst advice that could have been
+given. In an hour more, Jervy and Mrs. Sowler were to meet at the tavern
+door. The one last hope of protecting Mrs. Farnaby from the abominable
+conspiracy of which she was the destined victim, rested solely on the
+fulfilment by Amelius of his engagement with Regina for that day. Always
+ready to interfere with the progress of the courtship, Mrs. Farnaby
+would be especially eager to seize the first opportunity of speaking to
+her young Socialist friend on the subject of his lecture. In the course
+of the talk between them, the idea which, in the present disturbed state
+of his mind, had not struck him yet--the idea that the outcast of the
+streets might, by the barest conceivable possibility, be identified with
+the lost daughter--would, in one way or another, be almost infallibly
+suggested to Amelius; and, at the eleventh hour, the conspiracy would be
+foiled. If, on the other hand, the American's fatal advice was followed,
+the next morning's post might bring a letter from Jervy to Mrs.
+Farnaby--with this disastrous result. At the first words spoken by
+Amelius, she would put an end to all further interest in the subject on
+his part, by telling him that the lost girl had been found, and found by
+another person.
+
+Rufus pointed to the writing-materials on a side table, which he had
+himself used earlier in the day. The needful excuse was, unhappily,
+quite easy to find. A misunderstanding with his landlady had obliged
+Amelius to leave his lodgings at an hour's notice, and had occupied him
+in trying to find a new residence for the rest of the day. The note was
+written. Rufus, who was nearest to the bell, stretched out his hand to
+ring for the messenger. Amelius suddenly stopped him.
+
+"She doesn't like me to disappoint her," he said. "I needn't stay
+long--I might get there and back in half an hour, in a fast cab."
+
+His conscience was not quite easy. The sense of having forgotten
+Regina--no matter how naturally and excusably--oppressed him with a
+feeling of self-reproach. Rufus raised no objection; the hesitation of
+Amelius was unquestionably creditable to him. "If you must do it, my
+son," he said, "do it right away--and we'll wait for you."
+
+Amelius took up his hat. The door opened as he approached it, and Mrs.
+Payson entered the room, leading Simple Sally by the hand.
+
+"We are all going together," said the genial old lady, "to see my large
+family of daughters at the Home. We can have our talk in the carriage.
+It's an hour's drive from this place--and I must be back again to dinner
+at half-past seven."
+
+Amelius and Rufus looked at each other. Amelius thought of pleading an
+engagement, and asking to be excused. Under the circumstances, it was
+assuredly not a very gracious thing to do. Before he could make up his
+mind, one way or the other, Sally stole to his side, and put her hand
+on his arm. Mrs. Payson had done wonders in conquering the girl's
+inveterate distrust of strangers, and, to a certain extent at least,
+winning her confidence. But no early influence could shake Sally's
+dog-like devotion to Amelius. Her jealous instinct discovered something
+suspicious in his sudden silence. "You must go with us," she said, "I
+won't go without you."
+
+"Certainly not," Mrs. Payson added; "I promised her that, of course,
+beforehand."
+
+Rufus rang the bell, and despatched the messenger to Regina. "That's the
+one way out of it, my son," he whispered to Amelius, as they followed
+Mrs. Payson and Sally down the stairs of the hotel.
+
+
+They had just driven up to the gates of the Home, when Jervy and his
+accomplice met at the tavern, and entered on their consultation in a
+private room.
+
+In spite of her poverty-stricken appearance, Mrs. Sowler was not
+absolutely destitute. In various underhand and wicked ways, she
+contrived to put a few shillings in her pocket from week to week. If she
+was half starved, it was for the very ordinary reason, among persons
+of her vicious class, that she preferred spending her money on drink.
+Stating his business with her, as reservedly and as cunningly as usual,
+Jervy found, to his astonishment, that even this squalid old creature
+presumed to bargain with him. The two wretches were on the point of a
+quarrel which might have delayed the execution of the plot against Mrs.
+Farnaby, but for the vile self-control which made Jervy one of the most
+formidable criminals living. He gave way on the question of money--and,
+from that moment, he had Mrs. Sowler absolutely at his disposal.
+
+"Meet me to-morrow morning, to receive your instructions," he said. "The
+time is ten sharp; and the place is the powder-magazine in Hyde Park.
+And mind this! You must be decently dressed--you know where to hire
+the things. If I smell you of spirits to-morrow morning, I shall employ
+somebody else. No; not a farthing now. You will have your money--first
+instalment only, mind!--to-morrow at ten."
+
+Left by himself, Jervy sent for pen, ink, and paper. Using his left
+hand, which was just as serviceable to him as his right, he traced these
+lines:--
+
+"You are informed, by an unknown friend, that a certain lost young lady
+is now living in a foreign country, and may be restored to her afflicted
+mother on receipt of a sufficient sum to pay expenses, and to reward the
+writer of this letter, who is undeservedly, in distressed circumstances.
+
+"Are you, madam, the mother? I ask the question in the strictest
+confidence, knowing nothing certainly but that your husband was the
+person who put the young lady out to nurse in her infancy.
+
+"I don't address your husband, because his inhuman desertion of the
+poor baby does not incline me to trust him. I run the risk of trusting
+you--to a certain extent--at starting. Shall I drop a hint which
+may help you to identify the child, in your own mind? It would be
+inexcusably foolish on my part to speak too plainly, just yet. The hint
+must be a vague one. Suppose I use a poetical expression, and say that
+the young lady is enveloped in mystery from head to foot--especially the
+foot?
+
+"In the event of my addressing the right person, I beg to offer a
+suggestion for a preliminary interview.
+
+"If you will take a walk on the bridge over the Serpentine River, on
+Kensington Gardens side, at half-past ten o'clock to-morrow morning,
+holding a white handkerchief in your left hand, you will meet the
+much-injured woman, who was deceived into taking charge of the infant
+child at Ramsgate, and will be satisfied so far that you are giving your
+confidence to persons who really deserve it."
+
+Jervy addressed this infamous letter to Mrs. Farnaby, in an ordinary
+envelope, marked "Private." He posted it, that night, with his own hand.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 4
+
+"Rufus! I don't quite like the way you look at me. You seem to think--"
+
+"Give it tongue, my son. What do I seem to think?"
+
+"You think I'm forgetting Regina. You don't believe I'm just as fond of
+her as ever. The fact is, you're an old bachelor."
+
+"That is so. Where's the harm, Amelius?"
+
+"I don't understand--"
+
+"You're out there, my bright boy. I reckon I understand more than you
+think for. The wisest thing you ever did in your life is what you did
+this evening, when you committed Sally to the care of those ladies at
+the Home."
+
+"Good night, Rufus. We shall quarrel if I stay here any longer."
+
+"Good night, Amelius. We shan't quarrel, stay here as long as you like."
+
+The good deed had been done; the sacrifice--already a painful
+sacrifice--had been made. Mrs. Payson was old enough to speak plainly,
+as well as seriously, to Amelius of the absolute necessity of separating
+himself from Simple Sally, without any needless delay. "You have seen
+for yourself," she said, "that the plan on which this little household
+is ruled is the unvarying plan of patience and kindness. So far as Sally
+is concerned, you can be quite sure that she will never hear a harsh
+word, never meet with a hard look, while she is under our care. The
+lamentable neglect under which the poor creature has suffered, will be
+tenderly remembered and atoned for, here. If we can't make her happy
+among us, I promise that she shall leave the Home, if she wishes it, in
+six weeks' time. As to yourself, consider your position if you persist
+in taking her back with you. Our good friend Rufus has told me that you
+are engaged to be married. Think of the misinterpretations, to say the
+least of it, to which you would subject yourself--think of the reports
+which would sooner or later find their way to the young lady's ears, and
+of the deplorable consequences that would follow. I believe implicitly
+in the purity of your motives. But remember Who taught us to pray that
+we may not be led into temptation--and complete the good work that you
+have begun, by leaving Sally among friends and sisters in this house."
+
+To any honourable man, these were unanswerable words. Coming after what
+Rufus and the surgeon had already said to him, they left Amelius no
+alternative but to yield. He pleaded for leave to write to Sally, and
+to see her, at a later interval, when she might be reconciled to her new
+life. Mrs. Payson had just consented to both requests, Rufus had just
+heartily congratulated him on his decision--when the door was thrown
+violently open. Simple Sally ran into the room, followed by one of the
+women-attendants in a state of breathless surprise.
+
+"She showed me a bedroom," cried Sally, pointing indignantly to the
+woman; "and she asked if I should like to sleep there." She turned to
+Amelius, and caught him by the hand to lead him away. The ineradicable
+instinct of distrust had been once more roused in her by the too zealous
+attendant. "I'm not going to stay here," she said; "I'm going away with
+You!"
+
+Amelius glanced at Mrs. Payson. Sally tried to drag him to the door.
+He did his best to reassure her by a smile; he spoke confusedly some
+composing words. But his honest face, always accustomed to tell
+the truth, told the truth now. The poor lost creature, whose feeble
+intelligence was so slow to discern, so inapt to reflect, looked at him
+with the heart's instantaneous perception, and saw her doom. She let
+go of his hand. Her head sank. Without word or cry, she dropped on the
+floor at his feet.
+
+The attendant instantly raised her, and placed her on a sofa. Mrs.
+Payson saw how resolutely Amelius struggled to control himself, and
+felt for him with all her heart. Turning aside for a moment, she hastily
+wrote a few lines, and returned to him. "Go, before we revive her,"
+she whispered; "and give what I have written to the coachman. You shall
+suffer no anxiety that I can spare you," said the excellent woman; "I
+will stay here myself to-night, and reconcile her to the new life."
+
+She held out her hand; Amelius kissed it in silence. Rufus led him out.
+Not a word dropped from his lips on the long drive back to London.
+
+His mind was disturbed by other subjects besides the subject of Sally.
+He thought of his future, darkened by the doubtful marriage-engagement
+that was before him. Alone with Rufus, for the rest of the evening, he
+petulantly misunderstood the sympathy with which the kindly American
+regarded him. Their bedrooms were next to each other. Rufus heard him
+walking restlessly to and fro, and now and then talking to himself.
+After a while, these sounds ceased. He was evidently worn out, and was
+getting the rest that he needed, at last.
+
+The next morning he received a few lines from Mrs. Payson, giving a
+favourable account of Sally, and promising further particulars in a day
+or two.
+
+Encouraged by this good news, revived by a long night's sleep, he went
+towards noon to pay his postponed visit to Regina. At that early hour,
+he could feel sure that his interview with her would not be interrupted
+by visitors. She received him quietly and seriously, pressing his hand
+with a warmer fondness than usual. He had anticipated some complaint
+of his absence on the previous day, and some severe allusion to his
+appearance in the capacity of a Socialist lecturer. Regina's indulgence,
+or Regina's interest in circumstances of more pressing importance,
+preserved a merciful silence on both subjects.
+
+"It is a comfort to me to see you, Amelius," she said; "I am in trouble
+about my uncle, and I am weary of my own anxious thoughts. Something
+unpleasant has happened in Mr. Farnaby's business. He goes to the City
+earlier, and he returns much later, than usual. When he does come back,
+he doesn't speak to me--he locks himself into his room; and he looks
+worn and haggard when I make his breakfast for him in the morning.
+You know that he is one of the directors of the new bank? There was
+something about the bank in the newspaper yesterday which upset him
+dreadfully; he put down his cup of coffee--and went away to the City,
+without eating his breakfast. I don't like to worry you about it,
+Amelius. But my aunt seems to take no interest in her husband's
+affairs--and it is really a relief to me to talk of my troubles to you.
+I have kept the newspaper; do look at what it says about the bank, and
+tell me if you understand it!"
+
+Amelius read the passage pointed out to him. He knew as little of
+banking business as Regina. "So far as I can make it out," he said,
+"they're paying away money to their shareholders which they haven't
+earned. How do they do that, I wonder?"
+
+Regina changed the subject in despair. She asked Amelius if he had found
+new lodgings. Hearing that he had not yet succeeded in the search for a
+residence, she opened a drawer of her work-table, and took out a card.
+
+"The brother of one of my schoolfellows is going to be married," she
+said. "He has a pretty bachelor cottage in the neighbourhood of the
+Regent's Park--and he wants to sell it, with the furniture, just as it
+is. I don't know whether you care to encumber yourself with a little
+house of your own. His sister has asked me to distribute some of his
+cards, with the address and the particulars. It might be worth your
+while, perhaps, to look at the cottage when you pass that way."
+
+Amelius took the card. The small feminine restraints and gentlenesses
+of Regina, her quiet even voice, her serene grace of movement, had a
+pleasantly soothing effect on his mind after the anxieties of the last
+four and twenty hours. He looked at her bending over her embroidery,
+deftly and gracefully industrious--and drew his chair closer to her.
+She smiled softly over her work, conscious that he was admiring her, and
+placidly pleased to receive the tribute.
+
+"I would buy the cottage at once," said Amelius, "if I thought you would
+come and live in it with me."
+
+She looked up gravely, with her needle suspended in her hand.
+
+"Don't let us return to that," she answered, and went on again with her
+embroidery.
+
+"Why not?" Amelius asked.
+
+She persisted in working, as industriously as if she had been a poor
+needlewoman, with serious reasons for being eager to get her money. "It
+is useless," she replied, "to speak of what cannot be for some time to
+come."
+
+Amelius stopped the progress of the embroidery by taking her hand. Her
+devotion to her work irritated him.
+
+"Look at me, Regina," he said, steadily controlling himself. "I want
+to propose that we shall give way a little on both sides. I won't hurry
+you; I will wait a reasonable time. If I promise that, surely you
+may yield a little in return. Money seems to be a hard taskmaster,
+my darling, after what you have told me about your uncle. See how he
+suffers because he is bent on being rich; and ask yourself if it isn't a
+warning to us not to follow his example! Would you like to see _me_ too
+wretched to speak to you, or to eat my breakfast--and all for the sake
+of a little outward show? Come, come! let us think of ourselves. Why
+should we waste the best days of our life apart, when we are both free
+to be happy together? I have another good friend besides Rufus--the good
+friend of my father before me. He knows all sorts of great people, and
+he will help me to some employment. In six months' time I might have a
+little salary to add to my income. Say the sweetest words, my darling,
+that ever fell from your lips--say you will marry me in six months!"
+
+It was not in a woman's nature to be insensible to such pleading
+as this. She all but yielded. "I should like to say it, dear!" she
+answered, with a little fluttering sigh.
+
+"Say it, then!" Amelius suggested tenderly.
+
+She took refuge again in her embroidery. "If you would only give me a
+little time," she suggested, "I might say it."
+
+"Time for what, my own love?"
+
+"Time to wait, dear, till my uncle is not quite so anxious as he is
+now."
+
+"Don't talk of your uncle, Regina! You know as well as I do what he
+would say. Good heavens! why can't you decide for yourself? No! I don't
+want to hear over again about what you owe to Mr. Farnaby--I heard
+enough of it on that day in the shrubbery. Oh, my dear girl, do have
+some feeling for me! do for once have a will of your own!"
+
+Those last words were an offence to her self-esteem. "I think it's very
+rude to tell me I have no will of my own," she said, "and very hard
+to press in this way when you know I am in trouble." The inevitable
+handkerchief appeared, adding emphasis to the protest--and the becoming
+tears showed themselves modestly in Regina's magnificent eyes.
+
+Amelius started out of his chair, and walked away to the window. That
+last reference to Mr. Farnaby's pecuniary cares was more than he had
+patience to endure. "She can't even forget her uncle and his bank," he
+thought, "when I am speaking to her of our marriage!"
+
+He kept his face hidden from her, at the window. By some subtle process
+of association which he was unable to trace, the image of Simple Sally
+rose in his mind. An irresistible influence forced him to think of
+her--not as the poor, starved, degraded, half-witted creature of the
+streets, but as the grateful girl who had asked for no happier future
+than to be his servant, who had dropped senseless at his feet at the
+bare prospect of parting with him. His sense of self-respect, his
+loyalty to his betrothed wife, resolutely resisted the unworthy
+conclusion to which his own thoughts were leading him. He turned back
+again to Regina; he spoke so loudly and so vehemently that the gathering
+flow of her tears was suspended in surprise. "You're right, you're quite
+right, my dear! I ought to give you time, of course. I try to control
+my hasty temper, but I don't always succeed--just at first. Pray forgive
+me; it shall be exactly as you wish."
+
+Regina forgave him, with a gentle and ladylike astonishment at the
+excitable manner in which he made his excuses. She even neglected her
+embroidery, and put her face up to him to be kissed. "You are so nice,
+dear," she said, "when you are not violent and unreasonable. It is such
+a pity you were brought up in America. Won't you stay to lunch?"
+
+Happily for Amelius, the footman appeared at this critical moment with
+a message: "My mistress wishes particularly to see you, sir, before you
+go."
+
+This was the first occasion, in the experience of the lovers, on which
+Mrs. Farnaby had expressed her wishes through the medium of a servant,
+instead of appearing personally. The curiosity of Regina was mildly
+excited. "What a very odd message!" she said; "what does it mean? My
+aunt went out earlier than usual this morning, and I have not seen her
+since. I wonder whether she is going to consult you about my uncle's
+affairs?"
+
+"I'll go and see," said Amelius.
+
+"And stay to lunch?" Regina reiterated.
+
+"Not to-day, my dear."
+
+"To-morrow, then?"
+
+"Yes, to-morrow." So he escaped. As he opened the door, he looked back,
+and kissed his hand. Regina raised her head for a moment, and smiled
+charmingly. She was hard at work again over her embroidery.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 5
+
+The door of Mrs. Farnaby's ground-floor room, at the back of the house,
+was partially open. She was on the watch for Amelius.
+
+"Come in!" she cried, the moment he appeared in the hall. She pulled him
+into the room, and shut the door with a bang. Her face was flushed, her
+eyes were wild. "I have something to tell you, you dear good fellow,"
+she burst out excitedly--"Something in confidence, between you and me!"
+She paused, and looked at him with sudden anxiety and alarm. "What's the
+matter with you?" she asked.
+
+The sight of the room, the reference to a secret, the prospect of
+another private conference, forced back the mind of Amelius, in one
+breathless instant, to his first memorable interview with Mrs. Farnaby.
+The mother's piteously hopeful words, in speaking of her lost daughter,
+rang in his ears again as if they had just fallen from her lips. "She
+may be lost in the labyrinth of London.... To-morrow, or ten years
+hence, you _might_ meet with her." There were a hundred chances
+against it--a thousand, ten thousand chances against it. The startling
+possibility flashed across his brain, nevertheless, like a sudden
+flow of daylight across the dark. _"Have_ I met with her, at the first
+chance?"
+
+"Wait," he cried; "I have something to say before you speak to me. Don't
+deceive yourself with vain hopes. Promise me that, before I begin."
+
+She waved her hand derisively. "Hopes?" she repeated; "I have done with
+hopes, I have done with fears--I have got to certainties, at last!"
+
+He was too eager to heed anything that she said to him; his whole soul
+was absorbed in the coming disclosure. "Two nights since," he went on,
+"I was wandering about London, and I met--"
+
+She burst out laughing. "Go on!" she cried, with a wild derisive gaiety.
+
+Amelius stopped, perplexed and startled. "What are you laughing at?" he
+asked.
+
+"Go on!" she repeated. "I defy you to surprise me. Out with it! Whom did
+you meet?"
+
+Amelius proceeded doubtfully, by a word at a time. "I met a poor girl in
+the streets," he said, steadily watching her.
+
+She changed completely at those words; she looked at him with an aspect
+of stern reproach. "No more of it," she interposed; "I have not waited
+all these miserable years for such a horrible end as that." Her face
+suddenly brightened; a radiant effusion of tenderness and triumph flowed
+over it, and made it young and happy again. "Amelius!" she said, "listen
+to this. My dream has come true--my girl is found! Thanks to you, though
+you don't know it."
+
+Amelius looked at her. Was she speaking of something that had really
+happened? or had she been dreaming again?
+
+Absorbed in her own happiness, she made no remark on his silence. "I
+have seen the woman," she went on. "This bright blessed morning I have
+seen the woman who took her away in the first days of her poor little
+life. The wretch swears she was not to blame. I tried to forgive her.
+Perhaps I almost did forgive her, in the joy of hearing what she had
+to tell me. I should never have heard it, Amelius, if you had not given
+that glorious lecture. The woman was one of your audience. She would
+never have spoken of those past days; she would never have thought of
+me--"
+
+At those words, Mrs. Farnaby abruptly stopped, and turned her face away
+from Amelius. After waiting a little, finding her still silent, still
+immovable, he ventured on putting a question.
+
+"Are you sure you are not deceived?" he asked. "I remember you told me
+that rogues had tried to impose on you, in past times when you employed
+people to find her."
+
+"I have proof that I am not being imposed upon," Mrs. Farnaby answered,
+still keeping her face hidden from him. "One of them knows of the fault
+in her foot."
+
+"One of them?" Amelius repeated. "How many of them are there?"
+
+"Two. The old woman, and a young man."
+
+"What are their names?"
+
+"They won't tell me their names yet."
+
+"Isn't that a little suspicious?"
+
+"One of them knows," Mrs. Farnaby reiterated, "of the fault in her
+foot."
+
+"May I ask which of them knows? The old woman, I suppose?"
+
+"No, the young man."
+
+"That's strange, isn't it? Have you seen the young man?"
+
+"I know nothing of him, except the little that the woman told me. He has
+written me a letter."
+
+"May I look at it?"
+
+"I daren't let you look at it!"
+
+Amelius said no more. If he had felt the smallest suspicion that the
+disclosure volunteered by Mrs. Farnaby, at their first interview, had
+been overheard by the unknown person who had opened the swinging window
+in the kitchen, he might have recalled Phoebe's vindictive language at
+his lodgings, and the doubts suggested to him by his discovery of
+the vagabond waiting for her in the street. As it was, he was simply
+puzzled. The one plain conclusion to his mind was, unhappily, the
+natural conclusion after what he had heard--that Mrs. Farnaby had no
+sort of interest in the discovery of Simple Sally, and that he need
+trouble himself with no further anxiety in that matter. Strange as Mrs.
+Farnaby's mysterious revelation seemed, her correspondent's knowledge
+of the fault in the foot was circumstance in his favour, beyond dispute.
+Amelius still wondered inwardly how it was that the woman who had taken
+charge of the child had failed to discover what appeared to be known to
+another person. If he had been aware that Mrs. Sowler's occupation at
+the time was the occupation of a "baby-farmer," and that she had many
+other deserted children pining under her charge, he might have easily
+understood that she was the last person in the world to trouble herself
+with a minute examination of any one of the unfortunate little creatures
+abandoned to her drunken and merciless neglect. Jervy had satisfied
+himself, before he trusted her with his instructions, that she knew no
+more than the veriest stranger of any peculiarity in one or the other of
+the child's feet.
+
+Interpreting Mrs. Farnaby's last reply to him as an intimation that
+their interview was at an end, Amelius took up his hat to go.
+
+"I hope with all my heart," he said, "that what has begun so well will
+end well. If there is any service that I can do for you--"
+
+She drew nearer to him, and put her hand gently on his shoulder. "Don't
+think that I distrust you," she said very earnestly; "I am unwilling to
+shock you--that is all. Even this great joy has a dark side to it; my
+miserable married life casts its shadow on everything that happens to
+me. Keep secret from everybody the little that I have told you--you will
+ruin me if you say one word of it to any living creature. I ought not to
+have opened my heart to you--but how could I help it, when the happiness
+that is coming to me has come through you? When you say good-bye to me
+to-day, Amelius, you say good-bye to me for the last time in this house.
+I am going away. Don't ask me why--that is one more among the things
+which I daren't tell you! You shall hear from me, or see me--I promise
+that. Give me some safe address to write to; some place where there are
+no inquisitive women who may open my letter in your absence."
+
+She handed him her pocket-book. Amelius wrote down in it the address of
+his club.
+
+She took his hand. "Think of me kindly," she said. "And, once more,
+don't be afraid of my being deceived. There is a hard part of me still
+left which keeps me on my guard. The old woman tried, this morning, to
+make me talk to her about that little fault we know of in my child's
+foot. But I thought to myself, 'If you had taken a proper interest in my
+poor baby while she was with you, you must sooner or later have found it
+out.' Not a word passed my lips. No, no, don't be anxious when you think
+of me. I am as sharp as they are; I mean to find out how the man who
+wrote to me discovered what he knows; he shall satisfy me, I promise
+you, when I see him or hear from him next. All this is between ourselves
+strictly, sacredly between ourselves. Say nothing--I know I can trust
+you. Good-bye, and forgive me for having been so often in your way with
+Regina. I shall never be in your way again. Marry her, if you think
+she is good enough for you; I have no more interest now in your being
+a roving bachelor, meeting with girls here, there, and everywhere. You
+shall know how it goes on. Oh, I am so happy!"
+
+She burst into tears, and signed to Amelius with a wild gesture of
+treaty to leave her.
+
+He pressed her hand in silence, and went out.
+
+Almost as the door closed on him, the variable woman changed again. For
+a while she walked rapidly to and fro, talking to herself. The course of
+her tears ceased. Her lips closed firmly; her eyes assumed an expression
+of savage resolve. She sat down at the table and opened her desk. "I'll
+read it once more," she said to herself, "before I seal it up."
+
+She took from her desk a letter of her own writing, and spread it out
+before her. With her elbows on the table, and her hands clasped fiercely
+in her hair, she read these lines addressed to her husband:--
+
+
+JOHN FARNABY,--I have always suspected that you had something to do
+with the disappearance of our child. I know for certain now that you
+deliberately cast your infant daughter on the mercy of the world, and
+condemned your wife to a life of wretchedness.
+
+"Don't suppose that I have been deceived! I have spoken with the woman
+who waited by the garden-paling at Ramsgate, and who took the child from
+your hands. She saw you with me at the lecture; and she is absolutely
+sure that you are the man.
+
+"Thanks to the meeting at the lecture-hall, I am at last on the trace of
+my lost daughter. This morning I heard the woman's story. She kept the
+child, on the chance of its being reclaimed, until she could afford to
+keep it no longer. She met with a person who was willing to adopt it,
+and who took it away with her to a foreign country, not mentioned to me
+yet. In that country my daughter is still living, and will be restored
+to me on conditions which will be communicated in a few days' time.
+
+"Some of this story may be true, and some of it may be false; the woman
+may be lying to serve her own interests with me. Of one thing I am
+sure--my girl is identified, by means known to me of which there can
+be no doubt. And she must be still living, because the interest of the
+persons treating with me is an interest in her life.
+
+"When you receive this letter, on your return from business to-night,
+I shall have left you, and left you for ever. The bare thought of even
+looking at you again fills me with horror. I have my own income, and
+I mean to take my own way. In your best interests I warn you, make
+no attempt to trace me. I declare solemnly that, rather than let your
+deserted daughter be polluted by the sight of you, I would kill you with
+my own hand, and die for it on the scaffold. If she ever asks for her
+father, I will do you one service. For the honour of human nature, I
+will tell her that her father is dead. It will not be all a falsehood. I
+repudiate you and your name--you are dead to me from this time forth.
+
+"I sign myself by my father's name--
+
+"EMMA RONALD."
+
+
+She had said herself that she was unwilling to shock Amelius. This was
+the reason.
+
+After thinking a little, she sealed and directed the letter. This done,
+she unlocked the wooden press which had once contained the baby's frock
+and cap, and those other memorials of the past which she called her
+"dead consolations." After satisfying herself that the press was
+empty, she wrote on a card, "To be called for by a messenger from my
+bankers"--and tied the card to a tin box in a corner, secured by a
+padlock. She lifted the box, and placed it in front of the press, so
+that it might be easily visible to any one entering the room. The safe
+keeping of her treasures provided for, she took the sealed letter,
+and, ascending the stairs, placed it on the table in her husband's
+dressing-room. She hurried out again, the instant after, as if the sight
+of the place were intolerable to her.
+
+Passing to the other end of the corridor, she entered her own
+bedchamber, and put on her bonnet and cloak. A leather handbag was on
+the bed. She took it up, and looked round the large luxurious room with
+a shudder of disgust. What she had suffered, within those four walls, no
+human creature knew but herself. She hurried out, as she had hurried out
+of her husband's dressing-room.
+
+Her niece was still in the drawing-room. As she reached the door, she
+hesitated, and stopped. The girl was a good girl, in her own dull placid
+way--and her sister's daughter, too. A last little act of kindness would
+perhaps be a welcome act to remember. She opened the door so suddenly
+that Regina started, with a small cry of alarm. "Oh, aunt, how you
+frighten one! Are you going out?" "Yes; I'm going out," was the short
+answer. "Come here. Give me a kiss." Regina looked up in wide-eyed
+astonishment. Mrs. Farnaby stamped impatiently on the floor. Regina
+rose, gracefully bewildered. "My dear aunt, how very odd!" she said--and
+gave the kiss demanded, with a serenely surprised elevation of her
+finely shaped eyebrows. "Yes," said Mrs. Farnaby; "that's it--one of my
+oddities. Go back to your work. Good-bye."
+
+She left the room, as abruptly as she had entered it. With her firm
+heavy step she descended to the hall, passed out at the house door, and
+closed it behind her--never to return to it again.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 6
+
+Amelius left Mrs. Farnaby, troubled by emotions of confusion and alarm,
+which he was the last man living to endure patiently. Her extraordinary
+story of the discovered daughter, the still more startling assertion of
+her solution to leave the house, the absence of any plain explanation,
+the burden of secrecy imposed on him--all combined together to irritate
+his sensitive nerves. "I hate mysteries," he thought; "and ever since I
+landed in England, I seem fated to be mixed up in them. Does she really
+mean to leave her husband and her niece? What will Farnaby do? What will
+become of Regina?"
+
+To think of Regina was to think of the new repulse of which he had been
+made the subject. Again he had appealed to her love for him, and again
+she had refused to marry him at his own time.
+
+He was especially perplexed and angry, when he reflected on the
+unassailably strong influence which her uncle appeared to have over her.
+All Regina's sympathy was with Mr. Farnaby and his troubles. Amelius
+might have understood her a little better, if she had told him what
+had passed between her uncle and herself on the night of Mr. Farnaby's
+return, in a state of indignation, from the lecture. In terror of the
+engagement being broken off, she had been forced to confess that she
+was too fond of Amelius to prevail on herself to part with him. If
+he attempted a second exposition of his Socialist principles on the
+platform, she owned that it might be impossible to receive him again as
+a suitor. But she pleaded hard for the granting of a pardon to the first
+offence, in the interests of her own tranquillity, if not in mercy to
+Amelius. Mr. Farnaby, already troubled by his commercial anxieties,
+had listened more amiably, and also more absently, than usual; and had
+granted her petition with the ready indulgence of a preoccupied man. It
+had been decided between them that the offence of the lecture should be
+passed over in discreet silence. Regina's gratitude for this concession
+inspired her sympathy with her uncle in his present state of suspense.
+She had been sorely tempted to tell Amelius what had happened. But the
+natural reserve of her character--fortified, in this instance, by the
+defensive pride which makes a woman unwilling, before marriage, to
+confess her weakness unreservedly to the man who has caused it--had
+sealed her lips. "When he is a little less violent and a little more
+humble," she thought, "perhaps I may tell him."
+
+So it fell out that Amelius took his way through the streets, a
+mystified and an angry man.
+
+Arrived in sight of the hotel, he stopped, and looked about him.
+
+It was impossible to disguise from himself that a lurking sense of
+regret was making itself felt, in his present frame of mind, when he
+thought of Simple Sally. In all probability, he would have quarrelled
+with any man who had accused him of actually lamenting the girl's
+absence, and wanting her back again. He happened to recollect her
+artless blue eyes, with their vague patient look, and her quaint
+childish questions put so openly in so sweet a voice--and that was
+all. Was there anything reprehensible, if you please, in an act of
+remembrance? Comforting himself with these considerations, he moved on
+again a step or two--and stopped once more. In his present humour,
+he shrank from facing Rufus. The American read him like a book; the
+American would ask irritating questions. He turned his back on the
+hotel, and looked at his watch. As he took it out, his finger and thumb
+touched something else in his waistcoat-pocket. It was the card that
+Regina had given to him--the card of the cottage to let. He had nothing
+to do, and nowhere to go. Why not look at the cottage? If it proved
+to be not worth seeing, the Zoological Gardens were in the
+neighbourhood--and there are periods in a man's life when he finds the
+society that walks on four feet a welcome relief from the society that
+walks on two.
+
+It was a fairly fine day. He turned northward towards the Regent's Park.
+
+The cottage was in a by-road, just outside the park: a cottage in
+the strictest sense of the word. A sitting-room, a library, and a
+bedroom--all of small proportions--and, under them a kitchen and two
+more rooms, represented the whole of the little dwelling from top to
+bottom. It was simply and prettily furnished; and it was completely
+surrounded by its own tiny plot of garden-ground. The library especially
+was a perfect little retreat, looking out on the back garden; peaceful
+and shady, and adorned with bookcases of old carved oak.
+
+Amelius had hardly looked round the room, before his inflammable brain
+was on fire with a new idea. Other idle men in trouble had found the
+solace and the occupation of their lives in books. Why should he not
+be one of them? Why not plunge into study in this delightful
+retirement--and perhaps, one day, astonish Regina and Mr. Farnaby
+by bursting on the world as the writer of a famous book? Exactly as
+Amelius, two days since, had seen himself in the future, a public
+lecturer in receipt of glorious fees--so he now saw himself the
+celebrated scholar and writer of a new era to come. The woman who showed
+the cottage happened to mention that a gentleman had already looked over
+it that morning, and had seemed to like it. Amelius instantly gave her
+a shilling, and said, "I take it on the spot." The wondering woman
+referred him to the house-agent's address, and kept at a safe distance
+from the excitable stranger as she let him out. In less than another
+hour, Amelius had taken the cottage, and had returned to the hotel with
+a new interest in life and a new surprise for Rufus.
+
+As usual, in cases of emergency, the American wasted no time in talking.
+He went out at once to see the cottage, and to make his own inquiries
+of the agent. The result amply proved that Amelius had not been imposed
+upon. If he repented of his bargain, the gentleman who had first seen
+the cottage was ready to take it off his hands, at a moment's notice.
+
+Going back to the Hotel, Rufus found Amelius resolute to move into
+his new abode, and eager for the coming life of study and retirement.
+Knowing perfectly well before-hand how this latter project would end,
+the American tried the efficacy of a little worldly temptation. He had
+arranged, he said, "to have a good time of it in Paris"; and he proposed
+that Amelius should be his companion. The suggestion produced not the
+slightest effect; Amelius talked as if he was a confirmed recluse,
+in the decline of life. "Thank you," he said, with the most amazing
+gravity; "I prefer the company of my books, and the seclusion of my
+study." This declaration was followed by more selling-out of money
+in the Funds, and by a visit to a bookseller, which left a handsome
+pecuniary result inscribed on the right side of the ledger.
+
+On the next day, Amelius presented himself towards two o'clock at Mr.
+Farnaby's house. He was not so selfishly absorbed in his own projects
+as to forget Mrs. Farnaby. On the contrary, he was honestly anxious for
+news of her.
+
+A certain middle-aged man of business has been briefly referred to, in
+these pages, as one of Regina's faithful admirers, patiently submitting
+to the triumph of his favoured young rival. This gentleman, issuing from
+his carriage with his card-case ready in his hand, met Amelius at
+the door, with a face which announced plainly that a catastrophe had
+happened. "You have heard the sad news, no doubt?" he said, in a rich
+bass voice attuned to sadly courteous tones. The servant opened the
+door before Amelius could answer. After a contest of politeness, the
+middle-aged gentleman consented to make his inquiries first. "How is Mr.
+Farnaby? No better? And Miss Regina? Very poorly, oh? Dear, dear me!
+Say I called, if you please." He handed in two cards, with a severe
+enjoyment of the melancholy occasion and the rich bass sounds of his
+own voice. "Very sad, is it not?" he said, addressing his youthful
+rival with an air of paternal indulgence. "Good morning." He bowed with
+melancholy grace, and got into his carriage.
+
+Amelius looked after the prosperous merchant, as the prancing horses
+drew him away. "After all," he thought bitterly, "she might be happier
+with that rich prig than she could be with me." He stepped into the
+hall, and spoke to the servant. The man had his message ready. Miss
+Regina would see Mr. Goldenheart, if he would be so good as to wait in
+the dinning-room.
+
+Regina appeared, pale and scared; her eyes inflamed with weeping. "Oh,
+Amelius, can you tell me what this dreadful misfortune means? Why has
+she left us? When she sent for you yesterday, what did she say?"
+
+In his position, Amelius could make but one answer. "Your aunt said she
+thought of going away. But," he added, with perfect truth, "she refused
+to tell me why, or where she was going. I am quite as much at a loss to
+understand her as you are. What does your uncle propose to do?"
+
+Mr. Farnaby's conduct, as described by Regina, thickened the mystery--he
+proposed to do nothing.
+
+He had been found on the hearth-rug in his dressing-room; having
+apparently been seized with a fit, in the act of burning some paper.
+The ashes were discovered close by him, just inside the fender. On his
+recovery, his first anxiety was to know if a letter had been burnt.
+Satisfied on this point, he had ordered the servants to assemble round
+his bed, and had peremptorily forbidden them to open the door to their
+mistress, if she ever returned at any future time to the house. Regina's
+questions and remonstrances, when she was left alone with him, were
+answered, once for all, in these pitiless terms:--"If you wish to
+deserve the fatherly interest that I take in you, do as I do: forget
+that such a person as your aunt ever existed. We shall quarrel, if you
+ever mention her name in my hearing again." This said, he had instantly
+changed the subject; instructing Regina to write an excuse to "Mr.
+Melton" (otherwise, the middle-aged rival), with whom he had been
+engaged to dine that evening. Relating this latter event, Regina's
+ever-ready gratitude overflowed in the direction of Mr. Melton. "He was
+so kind! he left his guests in the evening, and came and sat with my
+uncle for nearly an hour." Amelius made no remark on this; he led the
+conversation back to the subject of Mrs. Farnaby. "She once spoke to me
+of her lawyers," he said. "Do _they_ know nothing about her?"
+
+The answer to this question showed that the sternly final decision of
+Mr. Farnaby was matched by equal resolution on the part of his wife.
+
+One of the partners in the legal firm had called that morning, to see
+Regina on a matter of business. Mrs. Farnaby had appeared at the office
+on the previous day, and had briefly expressed her wish to make a small
+annual provision for her niece, in case of future need. Declining to
+enter into any explanation, she had waited until the necessary document
+had been drawn out; had requested that Regina might be informed of the
+circumstance; and had then taken her departure in absolute silence.
+Hearing that she had left her husband, the lawyer, like every one else,
+was completely at a loss to understand what it meant.
+
+"And what does the doctor say?" Amelius asked next.
+
+"My uncle is to be kept perfectly quiet," Regina answered; "and is not
+to return to business for some time to come. Mr. Melton, with his usual
+kindness, has undertaken to look after his affairs for him. Otherwise,
+my uncle, in his present state of anxiety about the bank, would never
+have consented to obey the doctor's orders. When he can safely travel,
+he is recommended to go abroad for the winter, and get well again in
+some warmer climate. He refuses to leave his business--and the doctor
+refuses to take the responsibility. There is to be a consultation of
+physicians tomorrow. Oh, Amelius, I was really fond of my aunt--I am
+heart-broken at this dreadful change!"
+
+There was a momentary silence. If Mr. Melton had been present, he would
+have said a few neatly sympathetic words. Amelius knew no more than
+a savage of the art of conventional consolation. Tadmor had made him
+familiar with the social and political questions of the time, and had
+taught him to speak in public. But Tadmor, rich in books and newspapers,
+was a powerless training institution in the matter of small talk.
+
+"Suppose Mr. Farnaby is obliged to go abroad," he suggested, after
+waiting a little, "what will you do?"
+
+Regina looked at him, with an air of melancholy surprise. "I shall do
+my duty, of course," she answered gravely. "I shall accompany my dear
+uncle, if he wishes it." She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece.
+"It is time he took his medicine," she resumed; "you will excuse me,
+I am sure." She shook hands, not very warmly--and hastened out of the
+room.
+
+Amelius left the house, with a conviction which disheartened him--the
+conviction that he had never understood Regina, and that he was not
+likely to understand her in the future. He turned for relief to the
+consideration of Mr. Farnaby's strange conduct, under the domestic
+disaster which had befallen him.
+
+Recalling what he had observed for himself, and what he had heard
+from Mrs. Farnaby when she had first taken him into her confidence, he
+inferred that the subject of the lost child had not only been a subject
+of estrangement between the husband and wife, but that the husband was,
+in some way, the person blamable for it. Assuming this theory to be the
+right one, there would be serious obstacles to the meeting of the mother
+and child, in the mother's home. The departure of Mrs. Farnaby was,
+in that case, no longer unintelligible--and Mr. Farnaby's otherwise
+inexplicable conduct had the light of a motive thrown on it, which might
+not unnaturally influence a hard-hearted man weary alike of his wife
+and his wife's troubles. Arriving at this conclusion by a far shorter
+process than is here indicated, Amelius pursued the subject no further.
+At the time when he had first visited the Farnabys, Rufus had advised
+him to withdraw from closer intercourse with them, while he had the
+chance. In his present mood, he was almost in danger of acknowledging to
+himself that Rufus had proved to be right.
+
+He lunched with his American friend at the hotel. Before the meal was
+over Mrs. Payson called, to say a few cheering words about Sally.
+
+It was not to be denied that the girl remained persistently silent and
+reserved. In other respects the report was highly favourable. She was
+obedient to the rules of the house; she was always ready with any little
+services that she could render to her companions; and she was so eager
+to improve herself, by means of her reading-lessons and writing-lessons,
+that it was not easy to induce her to lay aside her book and her slate.
+When the teacher offered her some small reward for her good conduct,
+and asked what she would like, the sad little face brightened, and the
+faithful creature's answer was always the same--"I should like to know
+what he is doing now." (Alas for Sally!--"he" meant Amelius.)
+
+"You must wait a little longer before you write to her," Mrs. Payson
+concluded, "and you must not think of seeing her for some time to come.
+I know you will help us by consenting to this--for Sally's sake."
+
+Amelius bowed in silence. He would not have confessed what he felt, at
+that moment, to any living soul--it is doubtful if he even confessed
+it to himself. Mrs. Payson, observing him with a woman's keen sympathy,
+relented a little. "I might give her a message," the good lady
+suggested--"just to say you are glad to hear she is behaving so well."
+
+"Will you give her this?" Amelius asked.
+
+He took from his pocket a little photograph of the cottage, which he had
+noticed on the house-agent's desk, and had taken away with him. "It is
+_my_ cottage now," he explained, in tones that faltered a little; "I am
+going to live there; Sally might like to see it."
+
+"Sally _shall_ see it," Mrs. Payson agreed--"if you will only let
+me take this away first." She pointed to the address of the cottage,
+printed under the photograph. Past experience in the Home made her
+reluctant to trust Sally with the address in London at which Amelius was
+to be found.
+
+Rufus produced a huge complex knife, out of the depths of which a pair
+of scissors burst on touching a spring. Mrs. Payson cut off the address,
+and placed the photograph in her pocket-book. "Now," she said, "Sally
+will be happy, and no harm can come of it."
+
+"I've known you, ma'am, nigh on twenty years," Rufus remarked. "I do
+assure you that's the first rash observation I ever heard from your
+lips."
+
+
+
+
+BOOK THE SEVENTH. THE VANISHING HOPES
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 1
+
+Two days later, Amelius moved into his cottage.
+
+He had provided himself with a new servant, as easily as he had provided
+himself with a new abode. A foreign waiter at the hotel--a gray-haired
+Frenchman of the old school, reputed to be the most ill-tempered
+servant in the house--had felt the genial influence of Amelius with the
+receptive readiness of his race. Here was a young Englishman, who spoke
+to him as easily and pleasantly as if he was speaking to a friend--who
+heard him relate his little grievances, and never took advantage of that
+circumstance to turn him into ridicule--who said kindly, "I hope you
+don't mind my calling you by your nickname," when he ventured to explain
+that his Christian name was "Theophile," and that his English fellow
+servants had facetiously altered and shortened it to "Toff," to suit
+their insular convenience. "For the first time, sir," he had hastened
+to add, "I feel it an honour to be Toff, when _you_ speak to me." Asking
+everybody whom he met if they could recommend a servant to him, Amelius
+had put the question, when Toff came in one morning with the hot water.
+The old Frenchman made a low bow, expressive of devotion. "I know of
+but one man, sir, whom I can safely recommend," he answered--"take me."
+Amelius was delighted; he had only one objection to make. "I don't want
+to keep two servants," he said, while Toff was helping him on with his
+dressing-gown. "Why should you keep two servants, sir?" the Frenchman
+inquired. Amelius answered, "I can't ask you to make the beds." "Why
+not?" said Toff--and made the bed, then and there, in five minutes. He
+ran out of the room, and came back with one of the chambermaid's brooms.
+"Judge for yourself, sir--can I sweep a carpet?" He placed a chair for
+Amelius. "Permit me to save you the trouble of shaving yourself. Are
+you satisfied? Very good. I am equally capable of cutting your hair, and
+attending to your corns (if you suffer, sir, from that inconvenience).
+Will you allow me to propose something which you have not had yet for
+your breakfast?" In half an hour more, he brought in the new dish.
+"Oeufs a la Tripe. An elementary specimen, sir, of what I can do for you
+as a cook. Be pleased to taste it." Amelius ate it all up on the spot;
+and Toff applied the moral, with the neatest choice of language. "Thank
+you, sir, for a gratifying expression of approval. One more specimen
+of my poor capabilities, and I have done. It is barely possible--God
+forbid!--that you may fall ill. Honour me by reading that document." He
+handed a written paper to Amelius, dated some years since in Paris, and
+signed in an English name. "I testify with gratitude and pleasure
+that Theophile Leblond has nursed me through a long illness, with an
+intelligence and devotion which I cannot too highly praise." "May you
+never employ me, sir, in that capacity," said Toff. "I have only to
+add that I am not so old as I look, and that my political opinions have
+changed, in later life, from red-republican to moderate-liberal. I also
+confess, if necessary, that I still have an ardent admiration for the
+fair sex." He laid his hand on his heart, and waited to be engaged.
+
+So the household at the cottage was modestly limited to Amelius and
+Toff.
+
+Rufus remained for another week in London, to watch the new experiment.
+He had made careful inquiries into the Frenchman's character, and had
+found that the complaints of his temper really amounted to this--that
+"he gave himself the airs of a gentleman, and didn't understand a joke."
+On the question of honesty and sobriety, the testimony of the proprietor
+of the hotel left Rufus nothing to desire. Greatly to his surprise,
+Amelius showed no disposition to grow weary of his quiet life, or to
+take refuge in perilous amusements from the sober society of his books.
+He was regular in his inquiries at Mr. Farnaby's house; he took long
+walks by himself; he never mentioned Sally's name; he lost his interest
+in going to the theatre, and he never appeared in the smoking-room of
+the club. Some men, observing the remarkable change which had passed
+over his excitable temperament, would have hailed it as a good sign for
+the future. The New Englander looked below the surface, and was not so
+easily deceived. "My bright boy's soul is discouraged and cast down,"
+was the conclusion that he drew. "There's darkness in him where there
+once was light; and, what's worse than all, he caves in, and keeps it to
+himself." After vainly trying to induce Amelius to open his heart, Rufus
+at last went to Paris, with a mind that was ill at ease.
+
+On the day of the American's departure, the march of events was resumed;
+and the unnaturally quiet life of Amelius began to be disturbed again.
+
+Making his customary inquiries in the forenoon at Mr. Farnaby's door,
+he found the household in a state of agitation. A second council of
+physicians had been held, in consequence of the appearance of some
+alarming symptoms in the case of the patient. On this occasion, the
+medical men told him plainly that he would sacrifice his life to his
+obstinacy, if he persisted in remaining in London and returning to
+his business. By good fortune, the affairs of the bank had greatly
+benefited, through the powerful interposition of Mr. Melton. With the
+improved prospects, Mr. Farnaby (at his niece's entreaty) submitted to
+the doctor's advice. He was to start on the first stage of his journey
+the next morning; and, at his own earnest desire, Regina was to go with
+him. "I hate strangers and foreigners; and I don't like being alone. If
+you don't go with me, I shall stay where I am--and die." So Mr. Farnaby
+put it to his adopted daughter, in his rasping voice and with his hard
+frown.
+
+"I am grieved, dear Amelius, to go away from you," Regina said; "but
+what can I do? It would have been so nice if you could have gone with
+us. I did hint something of the sort; but--"
+
+Her downcast face finished the sentence. Amelius felt the bare idea of
+being Mr. Farnaby's travelling companion make his blood run cold. And
+Mr. Farnaby, on his side, reciprocated the sentiment. "I will write
+constantly, dear," Regina resumed; "and you will write back, won't you?
+Say you love me; and promise to come tomorrow morning, before we go."
+
+She kissed him affectionately--and, the instant after, checked the
+responsive outburst of tenderness in Amelius, by that utter want of tact
+which (in spite of the popular delusion to the contrary) is so much more
+common in women than in men, "My uncle is so particular about packing
+his linen," she said; "nobody can please him but me; I must ask you to
+let me run upstairs again."
+
+Amelius went out into the street, with his head down and his lips fast
+closed. He was not far from Mrs. Payson's house. "Why shouldn't I call?"
+he thought to himself. His conscience added, "And hear some news of
+Sally."
+
+There was good news. The girl was brightening mentally and
+physically--she was in a fair way, if she only remained in the Home, to
+be "Simple" Sally no longer. Amelius asked if she had got the photograph
+of the cottage. Mrs. Payson laughed. "Sleeps with it under her pillow,
+poor child," she said, "and looks at it fifty times a day." Thirty years
+since, with infinitely less experience to guide her, the worthy matron
+would have followed her instincts, and would have hesitated to tell
+Amelius quite so much about the photograph. But some of a woman's
+finer sensibilities do get blunted with the advance of age and the
+accumulation of wisdom.
+
+Instead of pursuing the subject of Sally's progress, Amelius, to Mrs.
+Payson's surprise, made a clumsy excuse, and abruptly took his leave.
+
+He felt the need of being alone; he was conscious of a vague distrust
+of himself, which degraded him in his own estimation. Was he, like
+characters he had read of in books, the victim of a fatality?
+The slightest circumstances conspired to heighten his interest in
+Sally--just at the time when Regina had once more disappointed him.
+He was as firmly convinced, as if he had been the strictest moralist
+living, that it was an insult to Regina, and an insult to his own
+self-respect, to set the lost creature whom he had rescued in any light
+of comparison with the young lady who was one day to be his wife. And
+yet, try as he might to drive her out, Sally kept her place in his
+thoughts. There was, apparently, some innate depravity in him. If a
+looking-glass had been handed to him at that moment, he would have been
+ashamed to look himself in the face.
+
+After walking until he was weary, he went to his club.
+
+The porter gave him a letter as he crossed the hall. Mrs. Farnaby had
+kept her promise, and had written to him. The smoking-room was deserted
+at that time of day. He opened his letter in solitude, looked at it,
+crumpled it up impatiently, and put it into his pocket. Not even Mrs.
+Farnaby could interest him at that critical moment. His own affairs
+absorbed him. The one idea in his mind, after what he had heard about
+Sally, was the idea of making a last effort to hasten the date of his
+marriage before Mr. Farnaby left England. "If I can only feel sure of
+Regina--"
+
+His thoughts went no further than that. He walked up and down the
+empty smoking-room, anxious and irritable, dissatisfied with himself,
+despairing of the future. "I can but try it!" he suddenly decided--and
+turned at once to the table to write a letter.
+
+Death had been busy with the members of his family in the long interval
+that had passed since he and his father left England. His nearest
+surviving relative was his uncle--his father's younger brother--who
+occupied a post of high importance in the Foreign Office. To this
+gentleman he now wrote, announcing his arrival in England, and his
+anxiety to qualify himself for employment in a Government office. "Be so
+good as to grant me an interview," he concluded; "and I hope to satisfy
+you that I am not unworthy of your kindness, if you will exert your
+influence in my favour."
+
+He sent away his letter at once by a private messenger, with
+instructions to wait for an answer.
+
+It was not without doubt, and even pain, that he had opened
+communication with a man whose harsh treatment of his father it was
+impossible for him to forget. What could the son expect? There was but
+one hope. Time might have inclined the younger brother to make atonement
+to the memory of the elder, by a favourable reception of his nephew's
+request.
+
+His father's last words of caution, his own boyish promise not to claim
+kindred with his relations in England, were vividly present to the mind
+of Amelius, while he waited for the return of the messenger. His one
+justification was in the motives that animated him. Circumstances, which
+his father had never anticipated, rendered it an act of duty towards
+himself to make the trial at least of what his family interest could
+do for him. There could be no sort of doubt that a man of Mr. Farnaby's
+character would yield, if Amelius could announce that he had the promise
+of an appointment under Government--with the powerful influence of a
+near relation to accelerate his promotion. He sat, idly drawing lines
+on the blotting-paper; at one moment regretting that he had sent his
+letter; at another, comforting himself in the belief that, if his father
+had been living to advise him, his father would have approved of the
+course that he had taken.
+
+The messenger returned with these lines of reply:--
+
+"Under any ordinary circumstances, I should have used my influence
+to help you on in the world. But, when you not only hold the most
+abominable political opinions, but actually proclaim those opinions in
+public, I am amazed at your audacity in writing to me. There must be
+no more communication between us. While you are a Socialist, you are a
+stranger to me."
+
+Amelius accepted this new rebuff with ominous composure. He sat quietly
+smoking in the deserted room, with his uncle's letter in his hand.
+
+Among the other disastrous results of the lecture, some of the
+newspapers had briefly reported it. Preoccupied by his anxieties,
+Amelius had forgotten this when he wrote to his relative. "Just like
+me!" he thought, as he threw the letter into the fire. His last hopes
+floated up the chimney, with the tiny puff of smoke from the burnt
+paper. There was now no other chance of shortening the marriage
+engagement left to try. He had already applied to the good friend whom
+he had mentioned to Regina. The answer, kindly written in this case, had
+not been very encouraging:--
+
+"I have other claims to consider. All that I can do, I will do. Don't be
+disheartened--I only ask you to wait."
+
+Amelius rose to go home--and sat down again. His natural energy seemed
+to have deserted him--it required an effort to leave the club. He took
+up the newspapers, and threw them aside, one after another. Not one
+of the unfortunate writers and reporters could please him on that
+inauspicious day. It was only while he was lighting his second cigar
+that he remembered Mrs. Farnaby's unread letter to him. By this time, he
+was more than weary of his own affairs. He read the letter.
+
+"I find the people who have my happiness at their mercy both dilatory
+and greedy." (Mrs. Farnaby wrote); "but the little that I can persuade
+them to tell me is very favourable to my hopes. I am still, to my
+annoyance, only in personal communication with the hateful old woman.
+The young man either sends messages, or writes to me through the post.
+By this latter means he has accurately described, not only in which
+of my child's feet the fault exists, but the exact position which it
+occupies. Here, you will agree with me, is positive evidence that he is
+speaking the truth, whoever he is.
+
+"But for this reassuring circumstance, I should feel inclined to be
+suspicious of some things--of the obstinate manner, for instance, in
+which the young man keeps himself concealed; also, of his privately
+warning me not to trust the woman who is his own messenger, and not to
+tell her on any account of the information which his letters convey
+to me. I feel that I ought to be cautious with him on the question of
+money--and yet, in my eagerness to see my darling, I am ready to
+give him all that he asks for. In this uncertain state of mind, I am
+restrained, strangely enough, by the old woman herself. She warns me
+that he is the sort of man, if he once gets the money, to spare himself
+the trouble of earning it. It is the one hold I have over him (she
+says)--so I control the burning impatience that consumes me as well as I
+can.
+
+"No! I must not attempt to describe my own state of mind. When I tell
+you that I am actually afraid of dying before I can give my sweet love
+the first kiss, you will understand and pity me. When night comes, I
+feel sometimes half mad.
+
+"I send you my present address, in the hope that you will write and
+cheer me a little. I must not ask you to come and see me yet. I am not
+fit for it--and, besides, I am under a promise, in the present state of
+the negotiations, to shut the door on my friends. It is easy enough to
+do that; I have no friend, Amelius, but you.
+
+"Try to feel compassionately towards me, my kind-hearted boy. For so
+many long years, my heart has had nothing to feed on but the one hope
+that is now being realized at last. No sympathy between my husband and
+me (on the contrary, a horrid unacknowledged enmity, which has always
+kept us apart); my father and mother, in their time both wretched about
+my marriage, and with good reason; my only sister dying in poverty--what
+a life for a childless woman! don't let us dwell on it any longer.
+
+"Goodbye for the present, Amelius. I beg you will not think I am always
+wretched. When I want to be happy, I look to the coming time."
+
+This melancholy letter added to the depression that weighed on the
+spirits of Amelius. It inspired him with vague fears for Mrs. Farnaby.
+In her own interests, he would have felt himself tempted to consult
+Rufus (without mentioning names), if the American had been in London. As
+things were, he put the letter back in his pocket with a sigh. Even Mrs.
+Farnaby, in her sad moments, had a consoling prospect to contemplate.
+"Everybody but me!" Amelius thought.
+
+His reflections were interrupted by the appearance of an idle young
+member of the club, with whom he was acquainted. The new-comer remarked
+that he looked out of spirits, and suggested that they should dine
+together and amuse themselves somewhere in the evening. Amelius accepted
+the proposal: any man who offered him a refuge from himself was a friend
+to him on that day. Departing from his temperate habits, he deliberately
+drank more than usual. The wine excited him for the time, and then left
+him more depressed than ever; and the amusements of the evening produced
+the same result. He returned to his cottage so completely disheartened,
+that he regretted the day when he had left Tadmor.
+
+But he kept his appointment, the next morning, to take leave of Regina.
+
+The carriage was at the door, with a luggage-laden cab waiting behind
+it. Mr. Farnaby's ill-temper vented itself in predictions that they
+would be too late to catch the train. His harsh voice, alternating
+with Regina's meek remonstrances, reached the ears of Amelius from the
+breakfast-room. "I'm not going to wait for the gentleman-Socialist,"
+Mr. Farnaby announced, with his hardest sarcasm of tone. "Dear uncle,
+we have a quarter of an hour to spare!" "We have nothing of the sort;
+we want all that time to register the luggage." The servant's voice was
+heard next. "Mr. Goldenheart, miss." Mr. Farnaby instantly stepped into
+the hall. "Goodbye!" he called to Amelius, through the open door of the
+dining-room--and passed straight on to the carriage. "I shan't wait,
+Regina!" he shouted, from the doorstep. "Let him go by himself!" said
+Amelius indignantly, as Regina hurried into the room. "Oh, hush, hush,
+dear! Suppose he heard you? No week shall pass without my writing to
+you; promise you will write back, Amelius. One more kiss! Oh, my dear!"
+The servant interposed, keeping discreetly out of sight. "I beg your
+pardon, miss, my master wishes to know whether you are going with him or
+not." Regina waited to hear no more. She gave her lover a farewell look
+to remember her by, and ran out.
+
+That innate depravity which Amelius had lately discovered in his own
+nature, let the forbidden thoughts loose in him again as he watched the
+departing carriage from the door. "If poor little Sally had been in her
+place--!" He made an effort of virtuous resolution, and stopped there.
+"What a blackguard a man may be," he penitently reflected, "without
+suspecting it himself!"
+
+He descended the house-steps. The discreet servant wished him good
+morning, with a certain cheery respect--the man was delighted to have
+seen the last of his hard master for some months to come. Amelius
+stopped and turned round, smiling grimly. He was in such a reckless
+humour, that he was even ready to divert his mind by astonishing a
+footman. "Richard," he said, "are you engaged to be married?" Richard
+stared in blank surprise at the strange question--and modestly admitted
+that he was engaged to marry the housemaid next door. "Soon?" asked
+Amelius, swinging his stick. "As soon as I have saved a little more
+money, sir." "Damn the money!" cried Amelius--and struck his stick on
+the pavement, and walked away with a last look at the house as if he
+hated the sight of it. Richard watched the departing young gentleman,
+and shook his head ominously as he shut the door.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 2
+
+Amelius went straight back to the cottage, with the one desperate
+purpose of reverting to the old plan, and burying himself in his books.
+Surveying his well-filled shelves with an impatience unworthy of a
+scholar, Hume's "History of England" unhappily caught his eye. He took
+down the first volume. In less than half an hour he discovered that
+Hume could do nothing for him. Wisely inspired, he turned to the truer
+history next, which men call fiction. The writings of the one supreme
+genius, who soars above all other novelists as Shakespeare soars above
+all other dramatists--the writings of Walter Scott--had their place of
+honour in his library. The collection of the Waverley Novels at Tadmor
+had not been complete. Enviable Amelius had still to read _Rob Roy._
+He opened the book. For the rest of the day he was in love with Diana
+Vernon; and when he looked out once or twice at the garden to rest his
+eyes, he saw "Andrew Fairservice" busy over the flowerbeds.
+
+He closed the last page of the noble story as Toff came in to lay the
+cloth for dinner.
+
+The master at table and the servant behind his chair were accustomed
+to gossip pleasantly during meals. Amelius did his best to carry on the
+talk as usual. But he was no longer in the delightful world of illusion
+which Scott had opened to him. The hard realities of his own everyday
+life had gathered round him again. Observing him with unobtrusive
+attention, the Frenchman soon perceived the absence of the easy humour
+and the excellent appetite which distinguished his young master at other
+times.
+
+"May I venture to make a remark, sir?" Toff inquired, after a long pause
+in the conversation.
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"And may I take the liberty of expressing my sentiments freely?"
+
+"Of course you may."
+
+"Dear sir, you have a pretty little simple dinner to-day," Toff began.
+"Forgive me for praising myself, I am influenced by the natural pride
+of having cooked the dinner. For soup, you have Croute au pot; for meat,
+you have Tourne-dos a la sauce poivrade; for pudding, you have Pommes
+au beurre. All so nice--and you hardly eat anything, and your amiable
+conversation falls into a melancholy silence which fills me with regret.
+Is it you who are to blame for this? No, sir! it is the life you lead. I
+call it the life of a monk; I call it the life of a hermit--I say boldly
+it is the life of all others which is most unsympathetic to a young man
+like you. Pardon the warmth of my expressions; I am eager to make my
+language the language of utmost delicacy. May I quote a little song? It
+is in an old, old, old French piece, long since forgotten, called 'Les
+Maris Garcons'. There are two lines in that song (I have often heard
+my good father sing them) which I will venture to apply to your case;
+'Amour, delicatesse, et gaite; D'un bon Francais c'est la devise!' Sir,
+you have naturally delicatesse and gaite--but the last has, for some
+days, been under a cloud. What is wanted to remove that cloud? L'Amour!
+Love, as you say in English. Where is the charming woman, who is the
+only ornament wanting to this sweet cottage? Why is she still invisible?
+Remedy that unhappy oversight, sir. You are here in a suburban Paradise.
+I consult my long experience; and I implore you to invite Eve.--Ha!
+you smile; your lost gaiety returns, and you feel it as I do. Might I
+propose another glass of claret, and the reappearance on the table of
+the Tourne-dos a la poivrade?"
+
+It was impossible to be melancholy in this man's company. Amelius
+sanctioned the return of the Tourne-dos, and tried the other glass of
+claret. "My good friend," he said, with something like a return of his
+old easy way, "you talk about charming women, and your long experience.
+Let's hear what your experience has been."
+
+For the first time Toff began to look a little confused.
+
+"You have honoured me, sir, by calling me your good friend," he said.
+"After that, I am sure you will not send me away if I own the truth. No!
+My heart tells me I shall not appeal to your indulgence in vain. Dear
+sir, in the holidays which you kindly give me, I provide competent
+persons to take care of the house in my absence, don't I? One person,
+if you remember, was a most handsome engaging young man. He is, if you
+please, my son by my first wife--now an angel in heaven. Another
+person, who took care of the house, on the next occasion, was a little
+black-eyed boy; a miracle of discretion for his age. He is my son by my
+second wife--now another angel in heaven. Forgive me, I have not
+done yet. Some few days since, you thought you heard an infant crying
+downstairs. Like a miserable wretch, I lied; I declared it was the
+infant in the next house. Ah, sir, it was my own cherubim baby by my
+third wife--an angel close by in the Edgeware Road, established in a
+small milliner shop, which will expand to great things by-and-by. The
+intervals between my marriages are not worthy of your notice. Fugitive
+caprices, sir--fugitive caprices! To sum it all up (as you say in
+England), it is not in me to resist the enchanting sex. If my third
+angel dies, I shall tear my hair--but I shall none the less take a
+fourth."
+
+"Take a dozen if you like," said Amelius. "Why should you have kept all
+this from my knowledge?"
+
+Toff hung his head. "I think it was one of my foreign mistakes," he
+pleaded. "The servants' advertisements in your English newspapers
+frighten me. How does the most meritorious manservant announce
+himself when he wants the best possible place? He says he is 'without
+encumbrances.' Gracious heaven, what a dreadful word to describe the
+poor pretty harmless children! I was afraid, sir, you might have some
+English objection to _my_ 'encumbrances.' A young man, a boy, and a
+cherubim-baby; not to speak of the sacred memories of two women, and the
+charming occasional society of a third; all inextricably enveloped in
+the life of one amorous-meritorious French person--surely there was
+reason for hesitation here? No matter; I bless my stars I know better
+now, and I withdraw myself from further notice. Permit me to recall your
+attention to the Roquefort cheese, and a mouthful of potato-salad to
+correct the richness of him."
+
+
+The dinner was over at last. Amelius was alone again.
+
+It was a still evening. Not a breath of wind stirred among the trees in
+the garden; no vehicles passed along the by-road in which the cottage
+stood. Now and then, Toff was audible downstairs, singing French songs
+in a high cracked voice, while he washed the plates and dishes, and
+set everything in order for the night. Amelius looked at his
+bookshelves--and felt that, after _Rob Roy,_ there was no more reading
+for him that evening. The slow minutes followed one another wearily;
+the deadly depression of the earlier hours of the day was stealthily
+fastening its hold on him again. How might he best resist it? His
+healthy out-of-door habits at Tadmor suggested the only remedy that he
+could think of. Be his troubles what they might, his one simple method
+of resisting them, at all other times, was his simple method now. He
+went out for a walk.
+
+For two hours he rambled about the great north-western suburb of London.
+Perhaps he felt the heavy oppressive weather, or perhaps his good dinner
+had not agreed with him. Any way, he was so thoroughly worn out, that he
+was obliged to return to the cottage in a cab.
+
+Toff opened the door--but not with his customary alacrity. Amelius was
+too completely fatigued to notice any trifling circumstance. Otherwise,
+he would certainly have perceived something odd in the old Frenchman's
+withered face. He looked at his master, as he relieved him of his
+hat and coat, with the strangest expression of interest and anxiety;
+modified by a certain sardonic sense of amusement underlying the more
+serious emotions. "A nasty dull evening," Amelius said wearily.
+And Toff, always eager to talk at other times, only answered, "Yes,
+sir"--and retreated at once to the kitchen regions.
+
+The fire was bright; the curtains were drawn; the reading-lamp, with
+its ample green shade, was on the table--a more comfortable room no man
+could have found to receive him after a long walk. Reclining at his
+ease in his chair, Amelius thought of ringing for some restorative
+brandy-and-water. While he was thinking, he fell asleep; and, while he
+slept, he dreamed.
+
+Was it a dream?
+
+He certainly saw the library--not fantastically transformed, but just
+like what the room really was. So far, he might have been wide awake,
+looking at the familiar objects round him. But, after a while, an event
+happened which set the laws of reality at defiance. Simple Sally, miles
+away in the Home, made her appearance in the library, nevertheless. He
+saw the drawn curtains over the window parted from behind; he saw the
+girl step out from them, and stop, looking at him timidly. She was
+clothed in the plain dress that he had bought for her; and she looked
+more charming in it than ever. The beauty of health claimed kindred now,
+in her pretty face, with the beauty of youth: the wan cheeks had begun
+to fill out, and the pale lips were delicately suffused with their
+natural rosy red. Little by little her first fears seemed to subside.
+She smiled, and softly crossed the room, and stood at his side. After
+looking at him with a rapt expression of tenderness and delight, she
+laid her hands on the arm of the chair, and said, in the quaintly quiet
+way which he remembered so well, "I want to kiss you." She bent over
+him, and kissed him with the innocent freedom of a child. Then she
+raised herself again, and looked backwards and forwards between Amelius
+and the lamp. "The firelight is the best," she said. Darkness fell over
+the room as she spoke; he saw her no more; he heard her no more. A blank
+interval followed; there flowed over him the oblivion of perfect sleep.
+His next conscious sensation was a feeling of cold--he shivered, and
+woke.
+
+The impression of the dream was in his mind at the moment of waking. He
+started as he raised himself in the chair. Was he dreaming still? No; he
+was certainly awake. And, as certainly, the room was dark!
+
+He looked and looked. It was not to be denied, or explained away. There
+was the fire burning low, and leaving the room chilly--and there,
+just visible on the table, in the flicker of the dying flame, was the
+extinguished lamp!
+
+He mended the fire, and put his hand on the bell to ring for Toff, and
+thought better of it. What need had he of the lamplight? He was too
+weary for reading; he preferred going to sleep again, and dreaming again
+of Sally. Where was the harm in dreaming of the poor little soul, so far
+away from him? The happiest part of his life now was the part of it that
+was passed in sleep.
+
+As the fresh coals began to kindle feebly, he looked again at the
+lamp. It was odd, to say the least of it, that the light should have
+accidentally gone out, exactly at the right time to realize the fanciful
+extinction of it in his dream. How was it there was no smell of a
+burnt-out lamp? He was too lazy, or too tired, to pursue the question.
+Let the mystery remain a mystery--and let him rest in peace! He settled
+himself fretfully in his chair. What a fool he was to bother his head
+about a lamp, instead of closing his eyes and going to sleep again!
+
+The room began to recover its pleasant temperature. He shifted the
+cushion in the chair, so that it supported his head in perfect comfort,
+and composed himself to rest. But the capricious influences of sleep had
+deserted him: he tried one position after another, and all in vain.
+It was a mere mockery even to shut his eyes. He resigned himself
+to circumstances, and stretched out his legs, and looked at the
+companionable fire.
+
+Of late he had thought more frequently than usual of his past days in
+the Community. His mind went back again now to that bygone time. The
+clock on the mantelpiece struck nine. They were all at supper, at
+Tadmor--talking over the events of the day. He saw himself again at the
+long wooden table, with shy little Mellicent in the chair next to him,
+and his favourite dog at his feet waiting to be fed. Where was Mellicent
+now? It was a sad letter that she had written to him, with the strange
+fixed idea that he was to return to her one day. There was something
+very winning and lovable about the poor creature who had lived such a
+hard life at home, and had suffered so keenly. It was a comfort to think
+that she would go back to the Community. What happier destiny could she
+hope for? Would she take care of his dog for him when she went back?
+They had all promised to be kind to his pet animals in his absence; but
+the dog was fond of Mellicent; he would be happier with Mellicent than
+with the rest of them. And his little tame fawn, and his birds--how were
+they doing? He had not even written to inquire after them; he had been
+cruelly forgetful of those harmless dumb loving friends. In his present
+solitude, in his dreary doubts of the future, what would he not give to
+feel the dog nestling in his bosom, and the fawn's little rough tongue
+licking his hand! His heart ached as he thought of it: a choking
+hysterical sensation oppressed his breathing. He tried to rise, and ring
+for lights, and rouse his manhood to endure and resist. It was not to be
+done. Where was his courage? where was the cheerfulness which had never
+failed him at other time? He sank back in the chair, and hid his face in
+his hands for shame at his own weakness, and burst out crying.
+
+The touch of soft persuasive fingers suddenly thrilled through him.
+
+His hands were gently drawn away from his face; a familiar voice, sweet
+and low, said, "Oh, don't cry!" Dimly through his tears he saw the
+well-remembered little figure standing between him and the fire. In his
+unendurable loneliness, he had longed for his dog, he had longed for
+his fawn. There was the martyred creature from the streets, whom he
+had rescued from nameless horror, waiting to be his companion, servant,
+friend! There was the child-victim of cold and hunger, still only
+feeling her way to womanhood; innocent of all other aspirations, so long
+as she might fill the place which had once been occupied by the dog and
+the fawn!
+
+Amelius looked at her with a momentary doubt whether he was waking or
+sleeping. "Good God!" he cried, "am I dreaming again?"
+
+"No," she said, simply. "You are awake this time. Let me dry your eyes;
+I know where you put your handkerchief." She perched on his knee, and
+wiped away the tears, and smoothed his hair over his forehead. "I was
+frightened to show myself till I heard you crying," she confessed. "Then
+I thought, 'Come! he can't be angry with me now'--and I crept out from
+behind the curtains there. The old man let me in. I can't live without
+seeing you; I've tried till I could try no longer. I owned it to the old
+man when he opened the door. I said, 'I only want to look at him; won't
+you let me in?' And he says, 'God bless me, here's Eve come already!' I
+don't know what he meant--he let me in, that's all I care about. He's a
+funny old foreigner. Send him away; I'm to be your servant now. Why
+were you crying? I've cried often enough about You. No; that can't be--I
+can't expect you to cry about _me;_ I can only expect you to scold me. I
+know I'm a bad girl."
+
+She cast one doubtful look at him, and hung her head--waiting to be
+scolded. Amelius lost all control over himself. He took her in his arms
+and kissed her again and again. "You are a dear good grateful little
+creature!" he burst out--and suddenly stopped, aware too late of the act
+of imprudence which he had committed. He put her away from him; he tried
+to ask severe questions, and to administer merited reproof. Even if he
+had succeeded, Sally was too happy to listen to him. "It's all right
+now," she cried. "I'm never, never, never to go back to the Home! Oh,
+I'm so happy! Let's light the lamp again!"
+
+She found the matchbox on the chimneypiece. In a minute more the room
+was bright. Amelius sat looking at her, perfectly incapable of deciding
+what he ought to say or do next. To complete his bewilderment, the voice
+of the attentive old Frenchman made itself heard through the door, in
+discreetly confidential tones.
+
+"I have prepared an appetising little supper, sir," said Toff. "Be
+pleased to ring when you and the young lady are ready."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 3
+
+Toff's interference proved to have its use. The announcement of
+the little supper--plainly implying Simple Sally's reception at the
+cottage--reminded Amelius of his responsibilities. He at once stepped
+out into the passage, and closed the door behind him.
+
+The old Frenchman was waiting to be reprimanded or thanked, as the case
+might be, with his head down, his shoulders shrugged up to his ears, and
+the palms of his hands spread out appealingly on either side of him--a
+model of mute resignation to circumstances.
+
+"Do you know that you have put me in a very awkward position?" Amelius
+began.
+
+Toff lifted one of his hands to his heart. "You are aware of my
+weakness, sir. When that charming little creature presented herself at
+the door, sinking with fatigue, I could no more resist her than I could
+take a hop-skip-and-jump over the roof of this cottage. If I have done
+wrong, take no account of the proud fidelity with which I have served
+you--tell me to pack up and go; but don't ask me to assume a position of
+severity towards that enchanting Miss. It is not in my heart to do
+it," said Toff, lifting his eyes with tearful solemnity to an imaginary
+heaven. "On my sacred word of honour as a Frenchman, I would die rather
+than do it!"
+
+"Don't talk nonsense," Amelius rejoined a little impatiently. "I don't
+blame you--but you have got me into a scrape, for all that. If I did my
+duty, I should send for a cab, and take her back."
+
+Toff opened his twinkling old eyes in a perfect transport of
+astonishment. "What!" he cried, "take her back? Without rest, without
+supper? And you call that duty? How inconceivably ugly does duty look
+when it assumes an inhospitable aspect towards a woman! Pardon me, sir;
+I must express my sentiments or I shall burst. You will say perhaps that
+I have no conception of duty? Pardon me again--my conception of duty is
+_here!"_
+
+He threw open the door of the sitting-room. In spite of his anxiety,
+Amelius burst out laughing. The Frenchman's inexhaustible contrivances
+had transformed the sitting-room into a bedroom for Sally. The sofa had
+become a snug little white bed; a hairbrush and comb, and a bottle of
+eau-de-cologne, were on the table; a bath stood near the fire, with cans
+of hot and cold water, and a railway rug placed under them to save the
+carpet. "I dare not presume to contradict you, sir," said Toff, "but
+there is _my_ conception of duty! In the kitchen, I have another
+conception, keeping warm; you can smell it up the stairs. Salmi of
+partridge, with the littlest possible dash of garlic in the sauce. Oh,
+sir, let that angel rest and refresh herself! Virtuous severity, believe
+me, is a most horribly unbecoming virtue at your age!" He spoke quite
+seriously, with the air of a profound moralist, asserting principles
+that did equal honour to his head and his heart.
+
+Amelius went back to the library.
+
+Sally was resting in the easy-chair; her position showed plainly that
+she was suffering from fatigue. "I have had a long, long walk," she
+said; "and I don't know which aches worst, my back or my feet. I don't
+care--I'm quite happy now I'm here." She nestled herself comfortably in
+the chair. "Do you mind my looking at you?" she asked. "Oh, it's so long
+since I saw you!"
+
+There was a new undertone of tenderness in her voice--innocent
+tenderness that openly avowed itself. The reviving influences of the
+life at the Home had done much--and had much yet left to do. Her wasted
+face and figure were filling out, her cheeks and lips were regaining
+their lovely natural colour, as Amelius had seen in his dream. But her
+eyes, in repose, still resumed their vacantly patient look; and her
+manner, with a perceptible increase of composure and confidence, had
+not lost its quaint childish charm. Her growth from girl to woman was a
+growth of fine gradations, guided by the unerring deliberation of Nature
+and Time.
+
+"Do you think they will follow you here, from the Home?" Amelius asked.
+
+She looked at the clock. "I don't think so," she said quietly. "It's
+hours since I slipped out by the back door. They have very strict rules
+about runaway girls--even when their friends bring them back. If _you_
+send me back--" she stopped, and looked thoughtfully into the fire.
+
+"What will you do, if I send you back?"
+
+"What one of our girls did, before they took her in at the Home. She
+jumped into the river. 'Made a hole in the water'; that's how she calls
+it. She's a big strong girl; and they got her out, and saved her. She
+says it wasn't painful, till they brought her to again. I'm little and
+weak--I don't think they could bring _me_ to life, if they tried."
+
+Amelius made a futile attempt to reason with her. He even got so far
+as to tell her that she had done very wrong to leave the Home. Sally's
+answer set all further expostulation at defiance. Instead of attempting
+to defend herself, she sighed wearily, and said, "I had no money; I
+walked all the way here."
+
+The well-intended remonstrances of Amelius were lost in compassionate
+surprise. "You poor little soul!" he exclaimed, "it must be seven or
+eight miles at least!"
+
+"I dare say," said Sally. "It don't matter, now I've found you."
+
+"But how did you find me? Who told you where I lived?"
+
+She smiled, and took from her bosom the photograph of the cottage.
+
+"But Mrs. Payson cut off the address!" cried Amelius, bursting out with
+the truth in the impulse of the moment.
+
+Sally turned over the photograph, and pointed to the back of the card,
+on which the photographer's name and address were printed. "Mrs. Payson
+didn't think of this," she said shyly.
+
+"Did _you_ think of it?" Amelius asked.
+
+Sally shook her head. "I'm too stupid," she replied. "The girl who made
+the hole in the water put me up to it. 'Have you made up your mind to
+run away?' she says. And I said, 'Yes.' 'You go to the man who did the
+picture,' she says; 'he knows where the place is, I'll be bound.' I
+asked my way till I found him. And he did know. And he told me. He was a
+good sort; he gave me a glass of beer, he said I looked so tired. I said
+we'd go and have our portraits taken some day--you, and your servant.
+May I tell the funny old foreigner that he is to go away now I have come
+to you?" The complete simplicity with which she betrayed her jealousy
+of Toff made Amelius smile. Sally, watching every change in his face,
+instantly drew her own conclusion. "Ah!" she said cheerfully, "I'll keep
+your room cleaner than he keeps it! I smelt dust on the curtains when I
+was hiding from you."
+
+Amelius thought of his dream. "Did you come out while I was asleep?" he
+asked.
+
+"Yes; I wasn't frightened of you, when you were asleep. I had a good
+look at you; and I gave you a kiss." She made that confession without
+the slightest sign of confusion; her calm blue eyes looked him straight
+in the face. "You got restless," she went on; "and I got frightened
+again. I put out the lamp. I says to myself, 'If he does scold me, I can
+bear it better in the dark.'"
+
+Amelius listened, wondering. Had he seen drowsily what he thought he
+had dreamed, or was there some mysterious sympathy between Sally and
+himself? The occult speculations were interrupted by Sally. "May I take
+off my bonnet, and make myself tidy?" she asked. Some men might have
+said No. Amelius was not one of them.
+
+The library possessed a door of communication with the sitting-room; the
+bedchamber occupied by Amelius being on the other side of the cottage.
+When Sally saw Toff's reconstructed room, she stood at the door, in
+speechless admiration of the vision of luxury revealed to her. From time
+to time Amelius, alone in the library, heard her dabbling in her bath,
+and humming the artless old English song from which she had taken her
+name. Once she knocked at the closed door, and made a request through
+it--"There is scent on the table; may I have some?" And once Toff
+knocked at the other door, opening into the passage, and asked when
+"pretty young Miss" would be ready for supper. Events went on in the
+little household as if Sally had become an integral part of it already.
+"What _am_ I to do?" Amelius asked himself. And Toff, entering at the
+moment to lay the cloth, answered respectfully, "Hurry the young person,
+sir, or the salmi will be spoilt."
+
+She came out from her room, walking delicately on her sore feet--so
+fresh and charming, that Toff, absorbed in admiration, made a mistake in
+folding a napkin for the first time in his life. "Champagne, of course,
+sir?" he said in confidence to Amelius. The salmi of partridge appeared;
+the inspiriting wine sparkled in the glasses; Toff surpassed himself
+in all the qualities which made a servant invaluable at a supper
+table. Sally forgot the Home, forgot the cruel streets, and laughed and
+chattered as gaily as the happiest girl living. Amelius, expanding in
+the joyous atmosphere of youth and good spirits, shook off his sense of
+responsibility, and became once more the delightful companion who won
+everybody's love. The effervescent gaiety of the evening was at its
+climax; the awful forms of duty, propriety, and good sense had been long
+since laughed out of the room--when Nemesis, goddess of retribution,
+announced her arrival outside, by a crashing of carriage-wheels and a
+peremptory ring at the cottage bell.
+
+There was dead silence; Amelius and Sally looked at each other. The
+experienced Toff at once guessed what had happened. "Is it her father or
+mother?" he asked of Amelius, a little anxiously. Hearing that she had
+never even seen her father or mother, he snapped his fingers joyously,
+and led the way on tiptoe into the hall. "I have my idea," he whispered.
+"Let us listen."
+
+A woman's voice, high, clear, and resolute, speaking apparently to the
+coachman, was the next audible sound. "Say I come from Mrs. Payson, and
+must see Mr. Goldenheart directly." Sally trembled and turned pale.
+"The matron!" she said faintly. "Oh, don't let her in!" Amelius took
+the terrified girl back to the library. Toff followed them, respectfully
+asking to be told what a "matron" was. Receiving the necessary
+explanation, he expressed his contempt for matrons bent on carrying
+charming persons into captivity, by opening the library door and
+spitting into the hall. Having relieved his mind in this way, he
+returned to his master and laid a lank skinny forefinger cunningly
+along the side of his nose. "I suppose, sir, you don't want to see
+this furious woman?" he said. Before it was possible to say anything in
+reply, another ring at the bell announced that the furious woman wanted
+to see Amelius. Toff read his master's wishes in his master's face.
+Not even this emergency could find him unprepared: he was as ready to
+circumvent a matron as to cook a dinner. "The shutters are up, and the
+curtains are drawn," he reminded Amelius. "Not a morsel of light is
+visible outside. Let them ring--we have all gone to bed." He turned to
+Sally, grinning with impish enjoyment of his own stratagem. "Ha, Miss!
+what do you think of that?" There was a third pull at the bell as he
+spoke. "Ring away, Missess Matrone!" he cried. "We are fast asleep--wake
+us if you can." The fourth ring was the last. A sharp crack revealed
+the breaking of the bellwire, and was followed by the shrill fall of the
+iron handle on the pavement before the garden gate. The gate, like the
+palings, was protected at the top from invading cats. "Compose yourself,
+Miss," said Toff, "if she tries to get over the gate, she will stick on
+the spikes." In another moment, the sound of retiring carriage-wheels
+announced the defeat of the matron, and settled the serious question of
+receiving Sally for the night.
+
+She sat silent by the window, when Toff had left the room, holding back
+the curtains and looking out at the murky sky.
+
+"What are you looking for?" Amelius asked.
+
+"I was looking for the stars."
+
+Amelius joined her at the window. "There are no stars to be seen
+tonight."
+
+She let the curtain fall to again. "I was thinking of night-time at the
+Home," she said. "You see, I got on pretty well, in the day, with my
+reading and writing. I wanted so to improve myself. My mind was troubled
+with the fear of your despising such an ignorant creature as I am; so I
+kept on at my lessons. I thought I might surprise you by writing you a
+pretty letter some day. One of the teachers (she's gone away ill) was
+very good to me. I used to talk to her; and, when I said a wrong word,
+she took me up, and told me the right one. She said you would think
+better of me when you heard me speak properly--and I do speak better,
+don't I? All this was in the day. It was the night that was the hard
+time to get through--when the other girls were all asleep, and I had
+nothing to think of but how far away I was from you. I used to get
+up, and put the counterpane round me, and stand at the window. On
+fine nights the stars were company to me. There were two stars, near
+together, that I got to know. Don't laugh at me--I used to think one of
+them was you, and one of them me. I wondered whether you would die, or
+I should die, before I saw you again. And, most always, it was my star
+that went out first. Lord, how I used to cry! It got into my poor stupid
+head that I should never see you again. I do believe I ran away because
+of that. You won't tell anybody, will you? It was so foolish, I am
+ashamed of it now. I wanted to see your star and my star tonight. I
+don't know why. Oh, I'm so fond of you!" She dropped on her knees, and
+took his hand, and put it on her head. "It's burning hot," she said,
+"and your kind hand cools it."
+
+Amelius raised her gently, and led her to the door of her room. "My poor
+Sally, you are quite worn out. You want rest and sleep. Let us say good
+night."
+
+"I will do anything you tell me," she answered. "If Mrs. Payson comes
+tomorrow, you won't let her take me away? Thank you. Goodnight." She
+put her hands on his shoulders, with innocent familiarity, and lifted
+herself to him on tiptoe, and kissed him as a sister might have kissed
+him.
+
+Long after Sally was asleep in her bed, Amelius sat by the library fire,
+thinking.
+
+The revival of the crushed feeling and fancy in the girl's nature,
+so artlessly revealed in her sad little story of the stars that were
+"company to her," not only touched and interested him, but clouded his
+view of the future with doubts and anxieties which had never troubled
+him until that moment. The mysterious influences under which the girl's
+development was advancing were working morally and physically together.
+Weeks might pass harmlessly, months might pass harmlessly--but the time
+must come when the innocent relations between them would be beset
+by peril. Unable, as yet, fully to realize these truths, Amelius
+nevertheless felt them vaguely. His face was troubled, as he lit the
+candle at last to go to his bed. "I don't see my way as clearly as I
+could wish," he reflected. "How will it end?"
+
+How indeed!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 4
+
+At eight o'clock the next morning, Amelius was awakened by Toff. A
+letter had arrived, marked "Immediate," and the messenger was waiting
+for an answer.
+
+The letter was from Mrs. Payson. She wrote briefly, and in formal terms.
+After referring to the matron's fruitless visit to the cottage on the
+previous night, Mrs. Payson proceeded in these words:--"I request you
+will immediately let me know whether Sally has taken refuge with you,
+and has passed the night under your roof. If I am right in believing
+that she has done so, I have only to inform you that the doors of the
+Home are henceforth closed to her, in conformity with our rules. If I am
+wrong, it will be my painful duty to lose no time in placing the matter
+in the hands of the police."
+
+Amelius began his reply, acting on impulse as usual. He wrote,
+vehemently remonstrating with Mrs. Payson on the unforgiving and
+unchristian nature of the rules at the Home. Before he was halfway
+through his composition, the person who had brought the letter sent a
+message to say that he was expected back immediately, and that he hoped
+Mr. Goldenheart would not get a poor man into trouble by keeping him
+much longer. Checked in the full flow of his eloquence, Amelius angrily
+tore up the unfinished remonstrance, and matched Mrs. Payson's briefly
+business-like language by an answer in one line:--"I beg to inform you
+that you are quite right." On reflection, he felt that the second letter
+was not only discourteous as a reply to a lady, but also ungrateful
+as addressed to Mrs. Payson personally. At the third attempt, he wrote
+becomingly as well as briefly. "Sally has passed the night here, as my
+guest. She was suffering from severe fatigue; it would have been an act
+of downright inhumanity to send her away. I regret your decision, but
+of course I submit to it. You once said, you believed implicitly in
+the purity of my motives. Do me the justice, however you may blame my
+conduct, to believe in me still."
+
+Having despatched these lines, the mind of Amelius was at ease again,
+He went into the library, and listened to hear if Sally was moving.
+The perfect silence on the other side of the door informed him that the
+weary girl was still fast asleep. He gave directions that she was on no
+account to be disturbed, and sat down to breakfast by himself.
+
+While he was still at table, Toff appeared, with profound mystery in
+his manner, and discreet confidence in the tones of his voice. "Here's
+another one, sir!" the Frenchman announced, in his master's ear.
+
+"Another one?" Amelius repeated. "What do you mean?"
+
+"She is not like the sweet little sleeping Miss." Toff explained. "This
+time, sir, it's the beauty of the devil himself, as we say in France.
+She refuses to confide in me; and she appears to be agitated--both bad
+signs. Shall I get rid of her before the other Miss wakes?"
+
+"Hasn't she got a name?" Amelius asked.
+
+Toff answered, in his foreign accent, "One name only--Faybay."
+
+"Do you mean Phoebe?"
+
+"Have I not said it, sir?"
+
+"Show her in directly."
+
+Toff glanced at the door of Sally's room, shrugged his shoulders, and
+obeyed his instructions.
+
+Phoebe appeared, looking pale and anxious. Her customary assurance of
+manner had completely deserted her: she stopped in the doorway, as if
+she was afraid to enter the room.
+
+"Come in, and sit down," said Amelius. "What's the matter?"
+
+"I'm troubled in my mind, sir," Phoebe answered. "I know it's taking
+a liberty to come to you. But I went yesterday to ask Miss Regina's
+advice, and found she had gone abroad with her uncle. I have something
+to say about Mrs. Farnaby, sir; and there's no time to be lost in saying
+it. I know of nobody but you that I can speak to, now Miss Regina is
+away. The footman told me where you lived."
+
+She stopped, evidently in the greatest embarrassment. Amelius tried to
+encourage her. "If I can be of any use to Mrs. Farnaby," he said, "tell
+me at once what to do."
+
+Phoebe's eyes dropped before his straightforward look as he spoke to
+her.
+
+"I must ask you to please excuse my mentioning names, sir," she resumed
+confusedly. "There's a person I'm interested in, whom I wouldn't get
+into trouble for the whole world. He's been misled--I'm sure he's been
+misled by another person--a wicked drunken old woman, who ought to be
+in prison if she had her deserts. I'm not free from blame myself--I know
+I'm not. I listened, sir, to what I oughtn't to have heard; and I told
+it again (I'm sure in the strictest confidence, and not meaning anything
+wrong) to the person I've mentioned. Not the old women--I mean the
+person I'm interested in. I hope you understand me, sir? I wish to speak
+openly, excepting the names, on account of Mrs. Farnaby."
+
+Amelius thought of Phoebe's vindictive language the last time he had
+seen her. He looked towards a cabinet in a corner of the room, in which
+he had placed Mrs. Farnaby's letter. An instinctive distrust of his
+visitor began to rise in his mind. His manner altered--he turned to his
+plate, and went on with his breakfast. "Can't you speak to me plainly?"
+he said. "Is Mrs. Farnaby in any trouble?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"And can I do anything to help her out of it?"
+
+"I am sure you can, sir--if you only know where to find her."
+
+"I do know where to find her. She has written to tell me. The last time
+I saw you, you expressed yourself very improperly about Mrs. Farnaby;
+you spoke as if you meant some harm to her."
+
+"I mean nothing but good to her now, sir."
+
+"Very well, then. Can't you go and speak to her yourself, if I give you
+the address?"
+
+Phoebe's pale face flushed a little. "I couldn't do that, sir," she
+answered, "after the way Mrs. Farnaby has treated me. Besides, if she
+knew that I had listened to what passed between her and you--" She
+stopped again, more painfully embarrassed than ever.
+
+Amelius laid down his knife and fork. "Look here!" he said; "this sort
+of thing is not in my way. If you can't make a clean breast of it, let's
+talk of something else. I'm very much afraid," he went on, with his
+customary absence of all concealment, "you're not the harmless sort of
+girl I once took you for. What do you mean by 'what passed between Mrs.
+Farnaby and me'?"
+
+Phoebe put her handkerchief to her eyes. "It's very hard to speak to me
+so harshly," she said, "when I'm sorry for what I've done, and am only
+anxious to prevent harm coming of it."
+
+_"What_ have you done?" cried honest Amelius, weary of the woman's
+inveterately indirect way of explaining herself to him.
+
+The flash of his quick temper in his eyes, as he put that
+straightforward question, roused a responsive temper in Phoebe which
+stung her into speaking openly at last. She told Amelius what she had
+heard in the kitchen as plainly as she had told it to Jervy--with this
+one difference, that she spoke without insolence when she referred to
+Mrs. Farnaby.
+
+Listening in silence until she had done, Amelius started to his feet,
+and opening the cabinet, took from it Mrs. Farnaby's letter. He read the
+letter, keeping his back towards Phoebe--waited a moment thinking--and
+suddenly turned on the woman with a look that made her shrink in her
+chair. "You wretch!" he said; "you detestable wretch!"
+
+In the terror of the moment, Phoebe attempted to leave the room. Amelius
+stopped her instantly. "Sit down again," he said; "I mean to have the
+whole truth out of you, now."
+
+Phoebe recovered her courage. "You have had the whole truth, sir; I
+could tell you no more if I was on my deathbed."
+
+Amelius refused to believe her. "There is a vile conspiracy against Mrs.
+Farnaby," he said. "Do you mean to tell me you are not in it?"
+
+"So help me God, sir, I never even heard of it till yesterday!"
+
+The tone in which she spoke shook the conviction of Amelius; the
+indescribable ring of truth was in it.
+
+"There are two people who are cruelly deluding and plundering this poor
+lady," he went on. "Who are they?"
+
+"I told you, if you remember, that I couldn't mention names, sir."
+
+Amelius looked again at the letter. After what he had heard, there was
+no difficulty in identifying the invisible "young man," alluded to by
+Mrs. Farnaby, with the unnamed "person" in whom Phoebe was interested.
+Who was he? As the question passed through his mind, Amelius remembered
+the vagabond whom he had recognized with Phoebe, in the street. There
+was no doubt of it now--the man who was directing the conspiracy in the
+dark was Jervy! Amelius would unquestionably have been rash enough
+to reveal this discovery, if Phoebe had not stopped him. His renewed
+reference to Mrs. Farnaby's letter and his sudden silence after looking
+at it roused the woman's suspicions. "If you're planning to get my
+friend into trouble," she burst out, "not another word shall pass my
+lips!"
+
+Even Amelius profited by the warning which that threat unintentionally
+conveyed to him.
+
+"Keep your own secrets," he said; "I only want to spare Mrs. Farnaby a
+dreadful disappointment. But I must know what I am talking about when I
+go to her. Can't you tell me how you found out this abominable swindle?"
+
+Phoebe was perfectly willing to tell him. Interpreting her long involved
+narrative into plain English, with the names added, these were the
+facts related:--Mrs. Sowler, bearing in mind some talk which had
+passed between them on the occasion of a supper, had called at
+Phoebe's lodgings on the previous day, and had tried to entrap her into
+communicating what she knew of Mrs. Farnaby's secrets. The trap failing,
+Mrs. Sowler had tried bribery next; had promised Phoebe a large sum of
+money, to be equally divided between them, if she would only speak; had
+declared that Jervy was perfectly capable of breaking his promise of
+marriage, and "leaving them both in the lurch, if he once got the money
+into his own pocket" and had thus informed Phoebe, that the conspiracy,
+which she supposed to have been abandoned, was really in full progress,
+without her knowledge. She had temporised with Mrs. Sowler, being afraid
+to set such a person openly at defiance; and had hurried away at once,
+to have an explanation with Jervy. He was reported to be "not at home."
+Her fruitless visit to Regina had followed--and there, so far as facts
+were concerned, was an end of the story.
+
+Amelius asked her no questions, and spoke as briefly as possible when
+she had done. "I will go to Mrs. Farnaby this morning," was all he said.
+
+"Would you please let me hear how it ends?" Phoebe asked.
+
+Amelius pushed his pocket-book and pencil across the table to her,
+pointing to a blank leaf on which she could write her address. While
+she was thus employed the attentive Toff came in, and (with his eye on
+Phoebe) whispered in his master's ear. He had heard Sally moving about.
+Would it be more convenient, under the circumstances, if she had her
+breakfast in her own room? Toff's astonishment was a sight to see when
+Amelius answered, "Certainly not. Let her breakfast here."
+
+Phoebe rose to go. Her parting words revealed the double-sided nature
+that was in her; the good and evil in perpetual conflict which should be
+uppermost.
+
+"Please don't mention me, sir, to Mrs. Farnaby," she said. "I don't
+forgive her for what she's done to me; I don't say I won't be even with
+her yet. But not in _that_ way! I won't have her death laid at my door.
+Oh, but I know her temper--and I say it's as likely as not to kill her
+or drive her mad, if she isn't warned about it in time. Never mind her
+losing her money. If it's lost, it's lost, and she's got plenty more.
+She may be robbed a dozen times over for all I care. But don't let her
+set her heart on seeing her child, and then find it's all a swindle. I
+hate her; but I can't and won't, let _that_ go on. Good-morning, sir."
+
+Amelius was relieved by her departure. For a minute or two, he sat
+absently stirring his coffee, and considering how he might most safely
+perform the terrible duty of putting Mrs. Farnaby on her guard.
+Toff interrupted his meditations by preparing the table for Sally's
+breakfast; and, almost at the same moment, Sally herself, fresh and
+rosy, opened her door a little way, and looked in.
+
+"You have had a fine long sleep," said Amelius. "Have you quite got over
+your walk yesterday?"
+
+"Oh yes," she answered gaily; "I only feel my long walk now in my feet.
+It hurts me to put my boots on. Can you lend me a pair of slippers?"
+
+"A pair of my slippers? Why, Sally, you would be lost in them! What's
+the matter with your feet?"
+
+"They're both sore. And I think one of them has got a blister on it."
+
+"Come in, and let's have a look at it?"
+
+She came limping in, with her feet bare. "Don't scold me," she pleaded,
+"I couldn't put my stockings on again, without washing them; and they're
+not dry yet."
+
+"I'll get you new stockings and slippers," said Amelius. "Which is the
+foot with the blister?"
+
+"The left foot," she answered, pointing to it.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 5
+
+"Let me see the blister," said Amelius.
+
+Sally looked longingly at the fire.
+
+"May I warm my feet first?" she asked; "they are so cold."
+
+In those words she innocently deferred the discovery which, if it had
+been made at the moment, might have altered the whole after-course of
+events. Amelius only thought now of preventing her from catching cold.
+He sent Toff for a pair of the warmest socks that he possessed, and
+asked if he should put them on for her. She smiled, and shook her head,
+and put them on for herself.
+
+When they had done laughing at the absurd appearance of the little feet
+in the large socks, they only drifted farther and farther away from the
+subject of the blistered foot. Sally remembered the terrible matron, and
+asked if anything had been heard of her that morning. Being told that
+Mrs. Payson had written, and that the doors of the institution were
+closed to her, she recovered her spirits, and began to wonder whether
+the offended authorities would let her have her clothes. Toff offered
+to go and make the inquiry, later in the day; suggesting the purchase
+of slippers and stockings, in the mean time, while Sally was having her
+breakfast. Amelius approved of the suggestion; and Toff set off on his
+errand, with one of Sally's boots for a pattern.
+
+The morning had, by that time, advanced to ten o'clock.
+
+Amelius stood before the fire talking, while Sally had her breakfast.
+Having first explained the reasons which made it impossible that she
+should live at the cottage in the capacity of his servant, he astonished
+her by announcing that he meant to undertake the superintendence of her
+education himself. They were to be master and pupil, while the lessons
+were in progress; and brother and sister at other times--and they were
+to see how they got on together, on this plan, without indulging in
+any needless anxiety about the future. Amelius believed with perfect
+sincerity that he had hit on the only sensible arrangement, under the
+circumstances; and Sally cried joyously, "Oh, how good you are to me;
+the happy life has come at last!" At the hour when those words passed
+the daughter's lips, the discovery of the conspiracy burst upon the
+mother in all its baseness and in all its horror.
+
+The suspicion of her infamous employer, which had induced Mrs. Sowler to
+attempt to intrude herself into Phoebe's confidence, led her to make a
+visit of investigation at Jervy's lodgings later in the day. Informed,
+as Phoebe had been informed, that he was not at home, she called again
+some hours afterwards. By that time, the landlord had discovered that
+Jervy's luggage had been secretly conveyed away, and that his tenant had
+left him, in debt for rent of the two best rooms in the house.
+
+No longer in any doubt of what had happened, Mrs. Sowler employed the
+remaining hours of the evening in making inquiries after the missing
+man. Not a trace of him had been discovered up to eight o'clock on the
+next morning.
+
+Shortly after nine o'clock--that is to say, towards the hour at which
+Phoebe paid her visit to Amelius--Mrs. Sowler, resolute to know the
+worst, made her appearance at the apartments occupied by Mrs. Farnaby.
+
+"I wish to speak to you," she began abruptly, "about that young man we
+both know of. Have you seen anything of him lately?"
+
+Mrs. Farnaby, steadily on her guard, deferred answering the question.
+"Why do you want to know?" she said.
+
+The reply was instantly ready. "Because I have reason to believe he has
+bolted, with your money in his pocket."
+
+"He has done nothing of the sort," Mrs. Farnaby rejoined.
+
+"Has he got your money?" Mrs. Sowler persisted. "Tell me the truth--and
+I'll do the same by you. He has cheated me. If you're cheated too, it's
+your own interest to lose no time in finding him. The police may catch
+him yet. _Has_ he got your money?"
+
+The woman was in earnest--in terrible earnest--her eyes and her voice
+both bore witness to it. She stood there, the living impersonation of
+those doubts and fears which Mrs. Farnaby had confessed, in writing to
+Amelius. Her position, at that moment, was essentially a position of
+command. Mrs. Farnaby felt it in spite of herself. She acknowledged that
+Jervy had got the money.
+
+"Did you sent it to him, or give it to him?" Mrs. Sowler asked.
+
+"I gave it to him."
+
+"When?"
+
+"Yesterday evening."
+
+Mrs. Sowler clenched her fists, and shook them in impotent rage. "He's
+the biggest scoundrel living," she exclaimed furiously; "and you're the
+biggest fool! Put on your bonnet and come to the police. If you get your
+money back again before he's spent it all, don't forget it was through
+me."
+
+The audacity of the woman's language roused Mrs. Farnaby. She pointed to
+the door. "You are an insolent creature," she said; "I have nothing more
+to do with you."
+
+"You have nothing more to do with me?" Mrs. Sowler repeated. "You and
+the young man have settled it all between you, I suppose." She laughed
+scornfully. "I dare say now you expect to see him again?"
+
+Mrs. Farnaby was irritated into answering this. "I expect to see him
+this morning," she said, "at ten o'clock."
+
+"And the lost young lady with him?"
+
+"Say nothing about my lost daughter! I won't even hear you speak of
+her."
+
+Mrs. Sowler sat down. "Look at your watch," she said. "It must be nigh
+on ten o'clock by this time. You'll make a disturbance in the house if
+you try to turn me out. I mean to wait here till ten o'clock."
+
+On the point of answering angrily, Mrs. Farnaby restrained herself. "You
+are trying to force a quarrel on me," she said; "you shan't spoil the
+happiest morning of my life. Wait here by yourself."
+
+She opened the door that led into her bedchamber, and shut herself in.
+Perfectly impenetrable to any repulse that could be offered to her, Mrs.
+Sowler looked at the closed door with a sardonic smile, and waited.
+
+The clock in the hall struck ten. Mrs. Farnaby returned again to the
+sitting-room, walked straight to the window, and looked out.
+
+"Any sign of him?" said Mrs. Sowler.
+
+There were no signs of him. Mrs. Farnaby drew a chair to the window,
+and sat down. Her hands turned icy cold. She still looked out into the
+street.
+
+"I'm going to guess what's happened," Mrs. Sowler resumed. "I'm a
+sociable creature, you know, and I must talk about something. About the
+money, now? Has the young man had his travelling expenses of you? To go
+to foreign parts, and bring your girl back with him, eh? I expect that's
+how it was. You see, I know him so well. And what happened, if you
+please, yesterday evening? Did he tell you he'd brought her back, and
+got her at his own place? And did he say he wouldn't let you see her
+till you paid him his reward as well as his travelling expenses? And
+did you forget my warning to you not to trust him? I'm a good one at
+guessing when I try. I see you think so yourself. Any signs of him yet?"
+
+Mrs. Farnaby looked round from the window. Her manner was completely
+changed; she was nervously civil to the wretch who was torturing her. "I
+beg your pardon, ma'am, if I have offended you," she said faintly. "I am
+a little upset--I am so anxious about my poor child. Perhaps you are a
+mother yourself? You oughtn't to frighten me; you ought to feel for
+me." She paused, and put her hand to her head. "He told me yesterday
+evening," she went on slowly and vacantly, "that my poor darling was
+at his lodgings; he said she was so worn out with the long journey from
+abroad, that she must have a night's rest before she could come to me.
+I asked him to tell me where he lived, and let me go to her. He said she
+was asleep and must not be disturbed. I promised to go in on tiptoe, and
+only look at her; I offered him more money, double the money to tell
+me where she was. He was very hard on me. He only said, wait till ten
+tomorrow morning--and wished me goodnight. I ran out to follow him, and
+fell on the stairs, and hurt myself. The people of the house were very
+kind to me." She turned her head back towards the window, and looked
+out into the street again. "I must be patient," she said; "he's only a
+little late."
+
+Mrs. Sowler rose, and tapped her smartly on the shoulder. "Lies!" she
+burst out. "He knows no more where your daughter is than I do--and he's
+off with your money!"
+
+The woman's hateful touch struck out a spark of the old fire in Mrs.
+Farnaby. Her natural force of character asserted itself once more.
+_"You_ lie!" she rejoined. "Leave the room!"
+
+The door was opened, while she spoke. A respectable woman-servant came
+in with a letter. Mrs. Farnaby took it mechanically, and looked at the
+address. Jervy's feigned handwriting was familiar to her. In the
+instant when she recognized it, the life seemed to go out of her like
+an extinguished light. She stood pale and still and silent, with the
+unopened letter in her hand.
+
+Watching her with malicious curiosity, Mrs. Sowler coolly possessed
+herself of the letter, looked at it, and recognized the writing in her
+turn. "Stop!" she cried, as the servant was on the point of going
+out. "There's no stamp on this letter. Was it brought by hand? Is the
+messenger waiting?"
+
+The respectable servant showed her opinion of Mrs. Sowler plainly in her
+face. She replied as briefly and as ungraciously as possible:--"No."
+
+"Man or woman?" was the next question.
+
+"Am I to answer this person, ma'am?" said the servant, looking at Mrs.
+Farnaby.
+
+"Answer me instantly," Mrs. Sowler interposed--"in Mrs. Farnaby's own
+interests. Don't you see she can't speak to you herself?"
+
+"Well, then," said the servant, "it was a man."
+
+"A man with a squint?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Which way did he go?"
+
+"Towards the square."
+
+Mrs. Sowler tossed the letter on the table, and hurried out of the room.
+The servant approached Mrs. Farnaby. "You haven't opened your letter
+yet, ma'am," she said.
+
+"No," said Mrs. Farnaby vacantly, "I haven't opened it yet."
+
+"I'm afraid it's bad news, ma'am?"
+
+"Yes. I think it's bad news."
+
+"Is there anything I can do for you?"
+
+"No, thank you. Yes; one thing. Open my letter for me, please."
+
+It was a strange request to make. The servant wondered, and obeyed. She
+was a kind-hearted woman; she really felt for the poor lady. But
+the familiar household devil, whose name is Curiosity, and whose
+opportunities are innumerable, prompted her next words when she had
+taken the letter out of the envelope:--"Shall I read it to you, ma'am?"
+
+"No. Put it down on the table, please. I'll ring when I want you."
+
+The mother was alone--alone, with her death-warrant waiting for her on
+the table.
+
+The clock downstairs struck the half hour after ten. She moved, for the
+first time since she had received the letter. Once more she went to the
+window, and looked out. It was only for a moment. She turned away again,
+with a sudden contempt for herself. "What a fool I am!" she said--and
+took up the open letter.
+
+She looked at it, and put it down again. "Why should I read it," she
+asked herself, "when I know what is in it, without reading?"
+
+Some framed woodcuts from the illustrated newspapers were hung on the
+walls. One of them represented a scene of rescue from shipwreck. A
+mother embracing her daughter, saved by the lifeboat, was among the
+foreground groups. The print was entitled, "The Mercy of Providence."
+Mrs. Farnaby looked at it with a moment's steady attention. "Providence
+has its favourites," she said; "I am not one of them."
+
+After thinking a little, she went into her bedroom, and took two papers
+out of her dressing-case. They were medical prescriptions.
+
+She turned next to the chimneypiece. Two medicine-bottles were placed
+on it. She took one of them down--a bottle of the ordinary size, known
+among chemists as a six-ounce bottle. It contained a colourless liquid.
+The label stated the dose to be "two table-spoonfuls," and bore, as
+usual, a number corresponding with a number placed on the prescription.
+She took up the prescription. It was a mixture of bi-carbonate of soda
+and prussic acid, intended for the relief of indigestion. She looked at
+the date, and was at once reminded of one of the very rare occasions on
+which she had required the services of a medical man. There had been a
+serious accident at a dinner-party, given by some friends. She had eaten
+sparingly of a certain dish, from which some of the other guests had
+suffered severely. It was discovered that the food had been cooked in
+an old copper saucepan. In her case, the trifling result had been a
+disturbance of digestion, and nothing more. The doctor had prescribed
+accordingly. She had taken but one dose: with her healthy constitution
+she despised physic. The remainder of the mixture was still in the
+bottle.
+
+She considered again with herself--then went back to the chimneypiece,
+and took down the second bottle.
+
+It contained a colourless liquid also; but it was only half the size of
+the first bottle, and not a drop had been taken. She waited, observing
+the difference between the two bottles with extraordinary attention. In
+this case also, the prescription was in her possession--but it was not
+the original. A line at the top stated that it was a copy made by the
+chemist, at the request of a customer. It bore the date of more than
+three years since. A morsel of paper was pinned to the prescription,
+containing some lines in a woman's handwriting:--"With your enviable
+health and strength, my dear, I should have thought you were the last
+person in the world to want a tonic. However, here is my prescription,
+if you must have it. Be very careful to take the right dose, because
+there's poison in it." The prescription contained three ingredients,
+strychnine, quinine, and nitro-hydrochloric acid; and the dose was
+fifteen drops in water. Mrs. Farnaby lit a match, and burnt the lines of
+her friend's writing. "As long ago as that," she reflected, "I thought
+of killing myself. Why didn't I do it?"
+
+The paper having been destroyed, she put back the prescription for
+indigestion in her dressing-case; hesitated for a moment; and opened the
+bedroom window. It looked into a lonely little courtyard. She threw
+the dangerous contents of the second and smaller bottle out into the
+yard--and then put it back empty on the chimneypiece. After another
+moment of hesitation, she returned to the sitting-room, with the bottle
+of mixture, and the copied prescription for the tonic strychnine drops,
+in her hand.
+
+She put the bottle on the table, and advanced to the fireplace to ring
+the bell. Warm as the room was, she began to shiver. Did the eager life
+in her feel the fatal purpose that she was meditating, and shrink from
+it? Instead of ringing the bell, she bent over the fire, trying to warm
+herself.
+
+"Other women would get relief in crying," she thought. "I wish I was
+like other women!"
+
+The whole sad truth about herself was in that melancholy aspiration. No
+relief in tears, no merciful oblivion in a fainting-fit, for _her._
+The terrible strength of the vital organization in this woman knew no
+yielding to the unutterable misery that wrung her to the soul. It roused
+its glorious forces to resist: it held her in a stony quiet, with a grip
+of iron.
+
+She turned away from the fire wondering at herself. "What baseness is
+there in me that fears death? What have I got to live for _now?"_
+The open letter on the table caught her eye. "This will do it!" she
+said--and snatched it up, and read it at last.
+
+"The least I can do for you is to act like a gentleman, and spare you
+unnecessary suspense. You will not see me this morning at ten, for the
+simple reason that I really don't know, and never did know, where to
+find your daughter. I wish I was rich enough to return the money. Not
+being able to do that, I will give you a word of advice instead. The
+next time you confide any secrets of yours to Mr. Goldenheart, take
+better care that no third person hears you."
+
+She read those atrocious lines, without any visible disturbance of
+the dreadful composure that possessed her. Her mind made no effort to
+discover the person who had listened and betrayed her. To all ordinary
+curiosities, to all ordinary emotions, she was morally dead already.
+
+The one thought in her was a thought that might have occurred to a man.
+"If I only had my hands on his throat, how I could wring the life out
+of him! As it is--" Instead of pursuing the reflection, she threw the
+letter into the fire, and rang the bell.
+
+"Take this at once to the nearest chemist's," she said, giving the
+strychnine prescription to the servant; "and wait, please, and bring it
+back with you."
+
+She opened her desk, when she was alone, and tore up the letters and
+papers in it. This done, she took her pen, and wrote a letter. It was
+addressed to Amelius.
+
+When the servant entered the room again, bringing with her the
+prescription made up, the clock downstairs struck eleven.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 6
+
+Toff returned to the cottage, with the slippers and the stockings.
+
+"What a time you have been gone!" said Amelius.
+
+"It is not my fault, sir," Toff explained. "The stockings I obtained
+without difficulty. But the nearest shoe shop in this neighbourhood sold
+only coarse manufactures, and all too large. I had to go to my wife, and
+get her to take me to the right place. See!" he exclaimed, producing
+a pair of quilted silk slippers with blue rosettes, "here is a design,
+that is really worthy of pretty feet. Try them on, Miss."
+
+Sally's eyes sparkled at the sight of the slippers. She rose at once,
+and limped away to her room. Amelius, observing that she still walked in
+pain, called her back. "I had forgotten the blister," he said. "Before
+you put on the new stockings, Sally, let me see your foot." He turned
+to Toff. "You're always ready with everything," he went on; "I wonder
+whether you have got a needle and a bit of worsted thread?"
+
+The old Frenchman answered, with an air of respectful reproach. "Knowing
+me, sir, as you do," he said, "could you doubt for a moment that I mend
+my own clothes and darn my own stockings?" He withdrew to his bedroom
+below, and returned with a leather roll. "When you are ready, sir?" he
+said, opening the roll at the table, and threading the needle, while
+Sally removed the sock from her left foot.
+
+She took a chair near the window, at the suggestion of Amelius. He knelt
+down so as to raise her foot to his knee. "Turn a little more towards
+the light," he said. He took the foot in his hand, lifted it, looked at
+it--and suddenly let it drop back on the floor.
+
+A cry of alarm from Sally instantly brought Toff to the window. "Oh,
+look!" she cried; "he's ill!" Toff lifted Amelius to a chair. "For God's
+sake, sir," cried the terrified old man, "what's the matter?" Amelius
+had turned to the strange ashy paleness which is only seen in men of his
+florid complexion, overwhelmed by sudden emotion. He stammered when
+he tried to speak. "Fetch the brandy!" said Toff, pointing to the
+liqueur-case on the sideboard. Sally brought it at once; the strong
+stimulant steadied Amelius.
+
+"I'm sorry to have frightened you," he said faintly. "Sally!--Dear, dear
+little Sally, go in, and get your things on directly. You must come out
+with me; I'll tell you why afterwards. My God! why didn't I find this
+out before?" He noticed Toff, wondering and trembling. "Good old fellow!
+don't alarm yourself--you shall know about it, too. Go! run! get the
+first cab you can find!"
+
+Left alone for a few minutes, he had time to compose himself. He did his
+best to take advantage of the time; he tried to prepare his mind for the
+coming interview with Mrs. Farnaby. "I must be careful of what I do,"
+he thought, conscious of the overwhelming effect of the discovery on
+himself; "She doesn't expect _me_ to bring her daughter to her."
+
+Sally returned to him, ready to go out. She seemed to be afraid of him,
+when he approached her, and took her hand. "Have I done anything wrong?"
+she asked, in her childish way. "Are you going to take me to some other
+Home?" The tone and look with which she put the question burst through
+the restraints which Amelius had imposed on himself for her sake. "My
+dear child!" he said, "can you bear a great surprise? I'm dying to tell
+you the truth--and I hardly dare do it." He took her in his arms.
+She trembled piteously. Instead of answering him, she reiterated her
+question, "Are you going to take me to some other Home?" He could endure
+it no longer. "This is the happiest day of your life, Sally!" he cried;
+"I am going to take you to your mother."
+
+He held her close to him, and looked at her in dread of having spoken
+too plainly.
+
+She slowly lifted her eyes to him in vacant fear and surprise; she burst
+into no expression of delight; no overwhelming emotion made her sink
+fainting in his arms. The sacred associations which gather round the
+mere name of Mother were associations unknown to her; the man who held
+her to him so tenderly, the hero who had pitied and saved her, was
+father and mother both to her simple mind. She dropped her head on
+his breast; her faltering voice told him that she was crying. "Will my
+mother take me away from you?" she asked. "Oh, do promise to bring me
+back with you to the cottage!"
+
+For the moment, and the moment only, Amelius was disappointed in her.
+The generous sympathies in his nature guided him unerringly to the truer
+view. He remembered what her life had been. Inexpressible pity for her
+filled his heart. "Oh, my poor Sally, the time is coming when you will
+not think as you think now! I will do nothing to distress you. You
+mustn't cry--you must be happy, and loving and true to your mother." She
+dried her eyes, "I'll do anything you tell me," she said, "as long as
+you bring me back with you."
+
+Amelius sighed, and said no more. He took her out with him gravely and
+silently, when the cab was announced to be ready. "Double your fare," he
+said, when he gave the driver his instructions, "if you get there in a
+quarter of an hour." It wanted twenty-five minutes to twelve when the
+cab left the cottage.
+
+At that moment, the contrast of feeling between the two could hardly
+have been more strongly marked. In proportion as Amelius became more and
+more agitated, so Sally recovered the composure and confidence that she
+had lost. The first question she put to him related, not to her mother,
+but to his strange behaviour when he had knelt down to look at her foot.
+He answered, explaining to her briefly and plainly what his conduct
+meant. The description of what had passed between her mother and Amelius
+interested and yet perplexed her. "How can she be so fond of me, without
+knowing anything about me for all those years?" she asked. "Is my mother
+a lady? Don't tell her where you found me; she might be ashamed of
+me." She paused, and looked at Amelius anxiously. "Are you vexed about
+something? May I take hold of your hand?" Amelius gave her his hand; and
+Sally was satisfied.
+
+As the cab drew up at the house, the door was opened from within. A
+gentleman, dressed in black, hurriedly came out; looked at Amelius; and
+spoke to him as he stepped from the cab to the pavement.
+
+"I beg your pardon, sir. May I ask if you are any relative of the lady
+who lives in this house?"
+
+"No relative," Amelius answered. "Only a friend, who brings good news to
+her."
+
+The stranger's grave face suddenly became compassionate as well as
+grave. "I must speak with you before you go upstairs," he said, lowering
+his voice as he looked at Sally, still seated in the cab. "You will
+perhaps excuse the liberty I am taking, when I tell you that I am a
+medical man. Come into the hall for a moment--and don't bring the young
+lady with you."
+
+Amelius told Sally to wait in the cab. She saw his altered looks, and
+entreated him not to leave her. He promised to keep the house door open
+so that she could see him while he was away from her, and hastened into
+the hall.
+
+"I am sorry to say I have bad, very bad, news for you," the doctor
+began. "Time is of serious importance--I must speak plainly. You have
+heard of mistakes made by taking the wrong bottle of medicine? The poor
+lady upstairs is, I fear, in a dying state, from an accident of that
+sort. Try to compose yourself. You may really be of use to me, if you
+are firm enough to take my place while I am away."
+
+Amelius steadied himself instantly. "What I can do, I will do," he
+answered.
+
+The doctor looked at him. "I believe you," he said. "Now listen. In this
+case, a dose limited to fifteen drops has been confounded with a dose
+of two table-spoonsful; and the drug taken by mistake is strychnine. One
+grain of the poison has been known to prove fatal--she has taken three.
+The convulsion fits have begun. Antidotes are out of the question--the
+poor creature can swallow nothing. I have heard of opium as a possible
+means of relief; and I am going to get the instrument for injecting it
+under the skin. Not that I have much belief in the remedy; but I must
+try something. Have you courage enough to hold her, if another of the
+convulsions comes on in my absence?"
+
+"Will it relieve her, if I hold her?" Amelius, asked.
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"Then I promise to do it."
+
+"Mind! you must do it thoroughly. There are only two women upstairs;
+both perfectly useless in this emergency. If she shrieks to you to be
+held, exert your strength--take her with a firm grasp. If you only touch
+her (I can't explain it, but it is so), you will make matters worse."
+
+The servant ran downstairs, while he was speaking. "Don't leave us,
+sir--I'm afraid it's coming on again."
+
+"This gentleman will help you, while I am away," said the doctor. "One
+word more," he went on, addressing Amelius. "In the intervals between
+the fits, she is perfectly conscious; able to listen, and even to speak.
+If she has any last wishes to communicate, make good use of the time.
+She may die of exhaustion, at any moment. I will be back directly."
+
+He hurried to the door.
+
+"Take my cab," said Amelius, "and save time."
+
+"But the young lady--"
+
+"Leave her to me." He opened the cab door, and gave his hand to Sally.
+It was done in a moment. The doctor drove off.
+
+Amelius saw the servant waiting for them in the hall. He spoke to Sally,
+telling her, considerately and gently, what he had heard, before he took
+her into the house. "I had such good hopes for you," he said; "and it
+has come to this dreadful end! Have you courage to go through with it,
+if I take you to her bedside? You will be glad one day, my dear, to
+remember that you cheered your mother's last moments on earth."
+
+Sally put her hand in his. "I will go anywhere," she said softly, "with
+You."
+
+Amelius led her into the house. The servant, in pity for her youth,
+ventured on a word of remonstrance. "Oh, sir, you're not going to let
+the poor young lady see that dreadful sight upstairs!"
+
+"You mean well," Amelius answered; "and I thank you. If you knew what I
+know, you would take her upstairs, too. Show the way."
+
+Sally looked at him in silent awe as they followed the servant together.
+He was not like the same man. His brows were knit; his lips were
+fast set; he held the girl's hand in a grip that hurt her. The latent
+strength of will in him--that reserved resolution, so finely and firmly
+entwined in the natures of sensitively organized men--was rousing itself
+to meet the coming trial. The doctor would have doubly believed in him,
+if the doctor had seen him at that moment.
+
+They reached the first-floor landing.
+
+Before the servant could open the drawing-room door, a shriek rang
+frightfully through the silence of the house. The servant drew back, and
+crouched trembling on the upper stairs. At the same moment, the door was
+flung open, and another woman ran out, wild with terror. "I can't bear
+it!" she cried, and rushed up the stairs, blind to the presence
+of strangers in the panic that possessed her. Amelius entered the
+drawing-room, with his arm round Sally, holding her up. As he placed her
+in a chair, the dreadful cry was renewed. He only waited to rouse and
+encourage her by a word and a look--and ran into the bedroom.
+
+For an instant, and an instant only, he stood horror-struck in the
+presence of the poisoned woman.
+
+The fell action of the strychnine wrung every muscle in her with the
+torture of convulsion. Her hands were fast clenched; her head was bent
+back: her body, rigid as a bar of iron, was arched upwards from the bed,
+resting on the two extremities of the head and the heels: the staring
+eyes, the dusky face, the twisted lips, the clenched teeth, were
+frightful to see. He faced it. After the one instant of hesitation, he
+faced it.
+
+Before she could cry out again, his hands were on her. The whole
+exertion of his strength was barely enough to keep the frenzied throbs
+of the convulsion, as it reached its climax, from throwing her off the
+bed. Through the worst of it, he was still equal to the trust that
+had been placed in him, still faithful to the work of mercy. Little
+by little, he felt the lessening resistance of the rigid body, as the
+paroxysm began to subside. He saw the ghastly stare die out of her eyes,
+and the twisted lips relax from their dreadful grin. The tortured body
+sank, and rested; the perspiration broke out on her face; her languid
+hands fell gently over on the bed. For a while, the heavy eyelids
+closed--then opened again feebly. She looked at him. "Do you know
+me?" he asked, bending over her. And she answered in a faint whisper,
+"Amelius!"
+
+He knelt down by her, and kissed her hand. "Can you listen, if I tell
+you something?"
+
+She breathed heavily; her bosom heaved under the suffocating oppression
+that weighed upon it. As he took her in his arms to raise her in the
+bed, Sally's voice reached him, in low imploring tones, from the next
+room. "Oh, let me come to you! I'm so frightened here by myself."
+
+He waited, before he told her to come in, looking for a moment at the
+face that was resting on his breast. A gray shadow was stealing over it;
+a cold and clammy moisture struck a chill through him as he put his hand
+on her forehead. He turned towards the next room. The girl had ventured
+as far as the door; he beckoned to her. She came in timidly, and stood
+by him, and looked at her mother. Amelius signed to her to take his
+place. "Put your arms round her," he whispered. "Oh, Sally, tell her who
+you are in a kiss!" The girl's tears fell fast as she pressed her lips
+on her mother's cheek. The dying woman looked at her, with a glance of
+helpless inquiry--then looked at Amelius. The doubt in her eyes was too
+dreadful to be endured. Arranging the pillows so that she could keep
+her raised position in the bed, he signed to Sally to approach him, and
+removed the slipper from her left foot. As he took it off, he looked
+again at the bed--looked and shuddered. In a moment more, it might be
+too late. With his knife he ripped up the stocking, and, lifting her
+on the bed, put her bare foot on her mother's lap. "Your child! your
+child!" he cried; "I've found your own darling! For God's sake, rouse
+yourself! Look!"
+
+She heard him. She lifted her feebly declining head. She looked. She
+knew.
+
+For one awful moment, the sinking vital forces rallied, and hurled
+back the hold of Death. Her eyes shone radiant with the divine light of
+maternal love; an exulting cry of rapture burst from her. Slowly, very
+slowly, she bent forward, until her face rested on her daughter's foot.
+With a faint sigh of ecstasy she kissed it. The moments passed--and the
+bent head was raised no more. The last beat of the heart was a beat of
+joy.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK THE EIGHTH. DAME NATURE DECIDES
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 1
+
+The day which had united the mother and daughter, only to part them
+again in this world for ever, had advanced to evening.
+
+Amelius and Sally were together again in the cottage, sitting by the
+library fire. The silence in the room was uninterrupted. On the open
+desk, near Amelius, lay the letter which Mrs. Farnaby had written to him
+on the morning of her death.
+
+He had found the letter--with the envelope unfastened--on the floor of
+the bedchamber, and had fortunately secured it before the landlady and
+the servant had ventured back to the room. The doctor, returning a few
+minutes afterwards, had warned the two women that a coroner's inquest
+would be held in the house, and had vainly cautioned them to be careful
+of what they said or did in the interval. Not only the subject of the
+death, but a discovery which had followed, revealing the name of the
+ill-fated woman marked on her linen, and showing that she had used an
+assumed name in taking the lodgings as Mrs. Ronald, became the gossip
+of the neighbourhood in a few hours. Under these circumstances, the
+catastrophe was made the subject of a paragraph in the evening journals;
+the name being added for the information of any surviving relatives
+who might be ignorant of the sad event. If the landlady had found the
+letter, that circumstance also would in all probability, have formed
+part of the statement in the newspapers, and the secret of Mrs.
+Farnaby's life and death would have been revealed to the public view.
+
+"I can trust you, and you only," she wrote to Amelius, "to fulfil the
+last wishes of a dying woman. You know me, and you know how I looked
+forward to the prospect of a happy life in retirement with my child. The
+one hope that I lived for has proved to be a cruel delusion. I have only
+this morning discovered, beyond the possibility of doubt, that I have
+been made the victim of wretches who have deliberately lied to me from
+first to last. If I had been a happier woman, I might have had other
+interests to sustain me under this frightful disaster. Such as I am,
+Death is my one refuge left.
+
+"My suicide will be known to no creature but yourself. Some years since,
+the idea of self destruction--concealed under the disguise of a common
+mistake--presented itself to my mind. I kept the means, very simple
+means, by me, thinking I might end in that way after all. When you read
+this I shall be at rest for ever. You will do what I have yet to ask of
+you, in merciful remembrance of me--I am sure of that.
+
+"You have a long life before you, Amelius. My foolish fancy about you
+and my lost girl still lingers in my mind; I still think it may be just
+possible that you may meet with her, in the course of years.
+
+"If this does happen, I implore you, by the tenderness and pity that
+you once felt for me, to tell no human creature that she is my daughter;
+and, if John Farnaby is living at the time, I forbid you, with the
+authority of a dying friend, to let her see him, or to let her know even
+that such a person exists. Are you at a loss to account for my motives?
+I may make the shameful confession which will enlighten you, now I know
+that we shall never meet again. My child was born before my marriage;
+and the man who afterwards became my husband--a man of low origin, I
+should tell you--was the father. He had calculated on this disgraceful
+circumstance to force my parents to make his fortune, by making me
+his wife. I now know, what I only vaguely suspected before, that he
+deliberately abandoned his child, as a likely cause of hindrance and
+scandal in the way of his prosperous career in life. Do you now think
+I am asking too much, when I entreat you never even to speak to my lost
+darling of this unnatural wretch? As for my own fair fame, I am not
+thinking of myself. With Death close at my side, I think of my poor
+mother, and of all that she suffered and sacrificed to save me from the
+disgrace that I had deserved. For her sake, not for mine, keep silence
+to friends and enemies alike if they ask you who my girl is--with the
+one exception of my lawyer. Years since, I left in his care the means of
+making a small provision for my child, on the chance that she might live
+to claim it. You can show him this letter as your authority, in case of
+need.
+
+"Try not to forget me, Amelius--but don't grieve about me. I go to
+my death as you go to your sleep when you are tired. I leave you my
+grateful love--you have always been good to me. There is no more to
+write; I hear the servant returning from the chemist's, bringing with
+her only release from the hard burden of life without hope. May you be
+happier than I have been! Goodbye!"
+
+So she parted from him for ever. But the fatal association of the
+unhappy woman's sorrows with the life and fortune of Amelius was not at
+an end yet.
+
+He had neither hesitation nor misgiving in resolving to show a natural
+respect to the wishes of the dead. Now that the miserable story of the
+past had been unreservedly disclosed to him, he would have felt himself
+bound in honour, even without instructions to guide him, to keep the
+discovery of the daughter a secret, for the mother's sake. With that
+conviction, he had read the distressing letter. With that conviction, he
+now rose to provide for the safe keeping of it under lock and key.
+
+
+Just as he had secured the letter in a private drawer of his desk, Toff
+came in with a card, and announced that a gentleman wished to see him.
+Amelius, looking at the card, was surprised to find on it the name of
+"Mr. Melton." Some lines were written on it in pencil: "I have called
+to speak with you on a matter of serious importance." Wondering what his
+middle-aged rival could want with him, Amelius instructed Toff to admit
+the visitor.
+
+Sally started to her feet, with her customary distrust of strangers.
+"May I run away before he comes in?" she asked. "If you like," Amelius
+answered quietly. She ran to the door of her room, at the moment when
+Toff appeared again, announcing the visitor. Mr. Melton entered just
+before she disappeared: he saw the flutter of her dress as the door
+closed behind her.
+
+"I fear I am disturbing you?" he said, looking hard at the door.
+
+He was perfectly dressed: his hat and gloves were models of what such
+things ought to be; he was melancholy and courteous; blandly distrustful
+of the flying skirts which he had seen at the door. When Amelius offered
+him a chair, he took it with a mysterious sigh; mournfully resigned
+to the sad necessity of sitting down. "I won't prolong my intrusion on
+you," he resumed. "You have no doubt seen the melancholy news in the
+evening papers?"
+
+"I haven't seen the evening papers," Amelius answered; "what news do you
+mean?"
+
+Mr. Melton leaned back in his chair, and expressed emotions of sorrow
+and surprise, in a perfect state of training, by gently raising his
+smooth white hands.
+
+"Oh dear, dear! this is very sad. I had hoped to find you in full
+possession of the particulars--reconciled, as we must all be, to the
+inscrutable ways of Providence. Permit me to break it to you as gently
+as possible. I came here to inquire if you had heard yet from Miss
+Regina. Understand my motive! there must be no misapprehension between
+us on that subject. There is a very serious necessity--pray follow
+me carefully--I say, a very serious necessity for my communicating
+immediately with Miss Regina's uncle; and I know of nobody who is so
+likely to hear from the travellers, so soon after their departure, as
+yourself. You are, in a certain sense, a member of the family--"
+
+"Stop a minute," said Amelius.
+
+"I beg your pardon?" said Mr. Melton politely, at a loss to understand
+the interruption.
+
+"I didn't at first know what you meant," Amelius explained. "You put it,
+if you will forgive me for saying so, in rather a roundabout way. If you
+are alluding, all this time, to Mrs. Farnaby's death, I must honestly
+tell you that I know of it already."
+
+The bland self-possession of Mr. Melton's face began to show signs
+of being ruffled. He had been in a manner deluded into exhibiting his
+conventionally fluent eloquence, in the choicest modulations of his
+sonorous voice--and it wounded his self esteem to be placed in his
+present position. "I understood you to say," he remarked stiffly, "that
+you had not seen the evening newspapers."
+
+"You are quite right," Amelius rejoined; "I have not seen them."
+
+"Then may I inquire," Mr. Melton proceeded, "how you became informed of
+Mrs. Farnaby's death?"
+
+Amelius replied with his customary frankness. "I went to call on the
+poor lady this morning," he said, "knowing nothing of what had happened.
+I met the doctor at the door; and I was present at her death."
+
+Even Mr. Melton's carefully-trained composure was not proof against the
+revelation that now opened before him. He burst out with an exclamation
+of astonishment, like an ordinary man.
+
+"Good heavens, what does this mean!"
+
+Amelius took it as a question addressed to himself. "I'm sure I don't
+know," he said quietly.
+
+Mr. Melton, misunderstanding Amelius on his side, interpreted those
+innocent words as an outbreak of vulgar interruption. "Pardon me,"
+he said coldly. "I was about to explain myself. You will presently
+understand my surprise. After seeing the evening paper, I went at once
+to make inquiries at the address mentioned. In Mr. Farnaby's absence, I
+felt bound to do this as his old friend. I saw the landlady, and, with
+her assistance, the doctor also. Both these persons spoke of a gentleman
+who had called that morning, accompanied by a young lady; and who had
+insisted on taking the young lady upstairs with him. Until you mentioned
+just now that you were present at the death, I had no suspicion that you
+were 'the gentleman'. Surprise on my part was, I think, only natural.
+I could hardly be expected to know that you were in Mrs. Farnaby's
+confidence about the place of her retreat. And with regard to the young
+lady, I am still quite at a loss to understand--"
+
+"If you understand that the people at the house told you the truth, so
+far as I am concerned," Amelius interposed, "I hope that will be enough.
+With regard to the young lady, I must beg you to excuse me for speaking
+plainly. I have nothing to say about her, to you or to anybody."
+
+Mr. Melton rose with the utmost dignity and the fullest possession of
+his vocal resources.
+
+"Permit me to assure you," he said, with frigidly fluent politeness,
+"that I have no wish to force myself into your confidence. One remark
+I will venture to make. It is easy enough, no doubt, to keep your own
+secrets, when you are speaking to _me._ You will find some difficulty,
+I fear, in pursuing the same course, when you are called upon to
+give evidence before the coroner. I presume you know that you will be
+summoned as a witness at the inquest?"
+
+"I left my name and address with the doctor for that purpose," Amelius
+rejoined as composedly as ever; "and I am ready to bear witness to what
+I saw at poor Mrs. Farnaby's bedside. But if all the coroners in England
+questioned me about anything else, I should say to them just what I have
+said to you."
+
+Mr. Melton smiled with well bred irony. "We shall see," he said. "In the
+mean time, I presume I may ask you, in the interests of the family, to
+send me the address on the letter, as soon as you hear from Miss Regina.
+I have no other means of communicating with Mr. Farnaby. In respect to
+the melancholy event, I may add that I have undertaken to provide for
+the funeral, and to pay any little outstanding debts, and so forth. As
+Mr. Farnaby's old friend and representative--"
+
+The conclusion of the sentence was interrupted by the entrance of Toff
+with a note, and an apology for his intrusion. "I beg your pardon, sir;
+the person is waiting. She says it's only a receipt to sign. The box is
+in the hall."
+
+Amelius examined the enclosure. It was a formal document, acknowledging
+the receipt of Sally's clothes, returned to her by the authorities at
+the Home. As he took a pen to sign the receipt he looked towards the
+door of Sally's room. Mr. Melton, observing the look, prepared to
+retire. "I am only interrupting you," he said. "You have my address on
+my card. Good evening."
+
+On his way out, he passed an elderly woman, waiting in the hall. Toff,
+hastening before him to open the garden gate, was saluted by the gruff
+voice of a cabman, outside. "The lady whom he had driven to the cottage
+had not paid him his right fare; he meant to have the money, or the
+lady's name and address, and summon her." Quietly crossing the road, Mr.
+Melton heard the woman's voice next: she had got her receipt, and had
+followed him out. In the dispute about fares and distances that ensued,
+the contending parties more than once mentioned the name of the Home and
+of the locality in which it was situated. Possessing this information,
+Mr. Melton looked in at his club; consulted a directory, under the
+heading of "Charitable Institutions;" and solved the mystery of the
+vanishing petticoats at the door. He had discovered an inmate of an
+asylum for lost women, in the house of the man to whom Regina was
+engaged to be married!
+
+
+The next morning's post brought to Amelius a letter from Regina. It was
+dated from an hotel in Paris. Her "dear uncle" had over estimated his
+strength. He had refused to stay and rest for the night at Boulogne; and
+had suffered so severely from the fatigue of the long journey that he
+had been confined to his bed since his arrival. The English physician
+consulted had declined to say when he would be strong enough to travel
+again; the constitution of the patient must have received some serious
+shock; he was brought very low. Having carefully reported the new
+medical opinion, Regina was at liberty to indulge herself, next, in
+expressions of affection, and to assure Amelius of her anxiety to
+hear from him as soon as possible. But, in this case again, the "dear
+uncle's" convenience was still the first consideration. She reverted to
+Mr. Farnaby, in making her excuses for a hurriedly written letter. The
+poor invalid suffered from depression of spirits; his great consolation
+in his illness was to hear his niece read to him: he was calling for
+her, indeed, at that moment. The inevitable postscript warmed into a
+mild effusion of fondness, "How I wish you could be with us. But, alas,
+it cannot be!"
+
+Amelius copied the address on the letter, and sent it to Mr. Melton
+immediately.
+
+It was then the twenty-fourth day of the month. The tidal train did not
+leave London early that morning; and the inquest was deferred, to suit
+other pressing engagements of the coroner, until the twenty-sixth. Mr.
+Melton decided, after his interview with Amelius, that the emergency was
+sufficiently serious to justify him in following his telegram to Paris.
+It was clearly his duty, as an old friend, to mention to Mr. Farnaby
+what he had discovered at the cottage, as well as what he had heard from
+the landlady and the doctor; leaving it to the uncle's discretion to act
+as he thought right in the interests of the niece. Whether that course
+of action might not also serve the interests of Mr. Melton himself, in
+the character of an unsuccessful suitor for Regina's hand, he did not
+stop to inquire. Beyond his duty it was, for the present at least, not
+his business to look.
+
+That night, the two gentlemen held a private consultation in Paris; the
+doctor having previously certified that his patient was incapable of
+supporting the journey back to London, under any circumstances.
+
+The question of the formal proceedings rendered necessary by Mrs.
+Farnaby's death having been discussed and disposed of, Mr. Melton
+next entered on the narrative which the obligations of friendship
+imperatively demanded from him. To his astonishment and alarm, Mr.
+Farnaby started up in the bed like a man panic-stricken. "Did you say,"
+he stammered, as soon as he could speak, "you mean to make inquiries
+about that--that girl?"
+
+"I certainly thought it desirable, bearing in mind Mr. Goldenheart's
+position in your family."
+
+"Do nothing of the sort! Say nothing to Regina or to any living
+creature. Wait till I get well again--and leave me to deal with it. I am
+the proper person to take it in hand. Don't you see that for yourself?
+And, look here! there may be questions asked at the inquest. Some
+impudent scoundrel on the jury may want to pry into what doesn't concern
+him. The moment you're back in London, get a lawyer to represent us--the
+sharpest fellow that can be had for money. Tell him to stop all prying
+questions. Who the girl is, and what made that cursed young Socialist
+Goldenheart take her upstairs with him--all that sort of thing has
+nothing to do with the manner in which my wife met her death. You
+understand? I look to you, Melton, to see yourself that this is done.
+The less said at the infernal inquest, the better. In my position, it's
+an exposure that my enemies will make the most of, as it is. I'm too ill
+to go into the thing any further. No: I don't want Regina. Go to her in
+the sitting room, and tell the courier to get you something to eat and
+drink. And, I say! For God's sake don't be late for the Boulogne train
+tomorrow morning."
+
+Left by himself, he gave full vent to his fury; he cursed Amelius with
+oaths that are not to be written.
+
+He had burnt the letter which Mrs. Farnaby had written to him, on
+leaving him forever; but he had not burnt out of his memory the words
+which that letter contained. With his wife's language vividly present to
+his mind, he could arrive at but one conclusion, after what Mr. Melton
+had told him. Amelius was concerned in the discovery of his deserted
+daughter; Amelius had taken the girl to her dying mother's bedside. With
+his idiotic Socialist notions, he would be perfectly capable of owning
+the truth, if inquiries were made. The unblemished reputation which John
+Farnaby had built up by the self-seeking hypocrisy of a lifetime was
+at the mercy of a visionary young fool, who believed that rich men were
+created for the benefit of the poor, and who proposed to regenerate
+society by reviving the obsolete morality of the Primitive Christians.
+Was it possible for him to come to terms with such a person as this?
+There was not an inch of common ground on which they could meet. He
+dropped back on his pillow in despair, and lay for a while frowning and
+biting his nails. Suddenly he sat up again in the bed, and wiped his
+moist forehead, and heaved a heavy breath of relief. Had his illness
+obscured his intelligence? How was it he had not seen at once the
+perfectly easy way out of the difficulty which was presented by the
+facts themselves? Here is a man, engaged to marry my niece, who has been
+discovered keeping a girl at his cottage--who even had the audacity to
+take her upstairs with him when he made a call on my wife. Charge him
+with it in plain words; break off the engagement publicly in the face
+of society; and, if the profligate scoundrel tries to defend himself by
+telling the truth, who will believe him--when the girl was seen running
+out of his room? and when he refused, on the question being put to him,
+to say who she was?
+
+So, in ignorance of his wife's last instructions to Amelius--in equal
+ignorance of the compassionate silence which an honourable man preserves
+when a woman's reputation is at his mercy--the wretch needlessly plotted
+and planned to save his usurped reputation; seeing all things, as such
+men invariably do, through the foul light of his own inbred baseness and
+cruelty. He was troubled by no retributive emotions of shame or remorse,
+in contemplating this second sacrifice to his own interests of the
+daughter whom he had deserted in her infancy. If he felt any misgivings,
+they related wholly to himself. His head was throbbing, his tongue was
+dry; a dread of increasing his illness shook him suddenly. He drank
+some of the lemonade at his bedside, and lay down to compose himself to
+sleep.
+
+It was not to be done; there was a burning in his eyeballs, there was
+a wild irregular beating at his heart, which kept him awake. In some
+degree, at least, retribution seemed to be on the way to him already.
+
+Mr. Melton, delicately administering sympathy and consolation to
+Regina--whose affectionate nature felt keenly the calamity of her aunt's
+death--Mr. Melton, making himself modestly useful, by reading aloud
+certain devotional poems much prized by Regina, was called out of the
+room by the courier.
+
+"I have just looked in at Mr. Farnaby, sir," said the man; "and I am
+afraid he is worse."
+
+The physician was sent for. He thought so seriously of the change in the
+patient, that he obliged Regina to accept the services of a professed
+nurse. When Mr. Melton started on his return journey the next morning,
+he left his friend in a high fever.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 2
+
+The inquiry into the circumstances under which Mrs. Farnaby had died was
+held in the forenoon of the next day.
+
+Mr. Melton surprised Amelius by calling for him, and taking him to the
+inquest. The carriage stopped on the way, and a gentleman joined them,
+who was introduced as Mr. Melton's legal adviser. He spoke to Amelius
+about the inquest; stating, as his excuse for asking certain discreet
+questions, that his object was to suppress any painful disclosures. On
+reaching the house, Mr. Melton and his lawyer said a few words to the
+coroner downstairs, while the jury were assembling on the floor above.
+
+The first witness examined was the landlady.
+
+After deposing to the date at which the late Mrs. Farnaby had hired
+her lodgings, and verifying the statements which had appeared in
+the newspapers, she was questioned about the life and habits of the
+deceased. She described her late lodger as a respectable lady, punctual
+in her payments, and quiet and orderly in her way of life: she received
+letters, but saw no friends. On several occasions, an old woman was
+admitted to speak with her; and these visits seemed to be anything but
+agreeable to the deceased. Asked if she knew anything of the old woman,
+or of what had passed at the interviews described, the witness answered
+both questions in the negative. When the woman called, she always told
+the servant to announce her as "the nurse."
+
+Mr. Melton was next examined, to prove the identity of the deceased.
+
+He declared that he was quite unable to explain why she had left her
+husband's house under an assumed name. Asked if Mr. and Mrs. Farnaby had
+lived together on affectionate terms, he acknowledged that he had
+heard, at various times, of a want of harmony between them, but was not
+acquainted with the cause. Mr. Farnaby's high character and position in
+the commercial world spoke for themselves: the restraints of a gentleman
+guided him in his relations with his wife. The medical certificate of
+his illness in Paris was then put in; and Mr. Melton's examination came
+to an end.
+
+The chemist who had made up the prescription was the third witness. He
+knew the woman who brought it to his shop to be in the service of the
+first witness examined; an old customer of his, and a highly respected
+resident in the neighbourhood. He made up all prescriptions himself in
+which poisons were conspicuous ingredients; and he had affixed to the
+bottle a slip of paper, bearing the word "Poison," printed in large
+letters. The bottle was produced and identified; and the directions in
+the prescription were shown to have been accurately copied on the label.
+
+A general sensation of interest was excited by the appearance of the
+next witness--the woman servant. It was anticipated that her evidence
+would explain how the fatal mistake about the medicine had occurred.
+After replying to the formal inquiries, she proceeded as follows:
+
+"When I answered the bell, at the time I have mentioned, I found the
+deceased standing at the fireplace. There was a bottle of medicine on
+the table, by her writing desk. It was a much larger bottle than that
+which the last witness identified, and it was more than three parts full
+of some colourless medicine. The deceased gave me a prescription to take
+to the chemist's, with instructions to wait, and bring back the physic.
+She said, 'I don't feel at all well this morning; I thought of trying
+some of this medicine,' pointing to the bottle by her desk; 'but I
+am not sure it is the right thing for me. I think I want a tonic. The
+prescription I have given you is a tonic.' I went out at once to our
+chemist and got it. I found her writing a letter when I came back, but
+she finished it immediately, and pushed it away from her. When I put the
+bottle I had brought from the chemist on the table, she looked at the
+other larger bottle which she had by her; and she said, 'You will
+think me very undecided; I have been doubting, since I sent you to the
+chemist, whether I had not better begin with this medicine here, before
+I try the tonic. It's a medicine for the stomach; and I fancy it's only
+indigestion that's the matter with me, after all.' I said, 'You eat but
+a poor breakfast, ma'am, this morning. It isn't for me to advise; but,
+as you seem to be in doubt about yourself, wouldn't it be better to send
+for a doctor?' She shook her head, and said she didn't want to have
+a doctor if she could possibly help it. 'I'll try the medicine for
+indigestion first,' she says; 'and if it doesn't relieve me, we will see
+what is to be done, later in the day.' While we were talking, the tonic
+was left in its sealed paper cover, just as I had brought it from the
+shop. She took up the bottle containing the stomach medicine, and read
+the directions on it: 'Two tablespoonsful by measure-glass twice a day.'
+I asked if she had a measure-glass; and she said, Yes, and sent me to
+her bedroom to look for it. I couldn't find it. While I was looking, I
+heard her cry out, and ran back to the drawing-room to see what was the
+matter. 'Oh!' she says, 'how clumsy I am! I've broken the bottle.' She
+held up the bottle of the stomach medicine and showed it to me, broken
+just below the neck. 'Go back to the bedroom,' she says, 'and see if you
+can find an empty bottle; I don't want to waste the medicine if I can
+help it.' There was only one empty bottle in the bedroom, a bottle on
+the chimney-piece. I took it to her immediately. She gave me the broken
+bottle; and while I poured the medicine into the bottle which I had
+found in the bedroom, she opened the paper which covered the tonic I
+had brought from the chemist. When I had done, and the two bottles were
+together on the table--the bottle that I had filled, and the bottle that
+I had brought front the chemist--I noticed that they were both of the
+same size, and that both had a label pasted on them, marked 'Poison.' I
+said to her, 'You must take care, ma'am, you don't make any mistake,
+the two bottles are so exactly alike.' 'I can easily prevent that,' she
+says, and dipped her pen in the ink, and copied the directions on the
+broken bottle, on to the label of the bottle that I had just filled.
+'There!' she said. 'Now I hope your mind's at ease?' She spoke
+cheerfully, as if she was joking with me. And then she said, 'But
+where's the measure-glass?' I went back to the bedroom to look for it,
+and couldn't find it again. She changed all at once, upon that--she
+became quite angry; and walked up and down in a fume, abusing me for my
+stupidity. It was very unlike her. On all other occasions she was a
+most considerate lady. I made allowances for her. She had been very much
+upset earlier in the morning, when she had received a letter, which she
+told me herself contained bad news. Yes; another person was present at
+the time--the same woman that my mistress told you of. The woman looked
+at the address on the letter, and seemed to know who it was from. I told
+her a squint-eyed man had brought it to the house--and then she left
+directly. I don't know where she went, or the address at which she
+lives, or who the messenger was who brought the letter. As I have said,
+I made allowances for the deceased lady. I went downstairs, without
+answering, and got a tumbler and a tablespoon to serve instead of the
+measure-glass. When I came back with the things, she was still walking
+about in a temper. She took no notice of me. I left the room again
+quietly, seeing she was not in a state to be spoken to. I saw nothing
+more of her, until we were alarmed by hearing her scream. We found
+the poor lady on the floor in a kind of fit. I ran out and fetched the
+nearest doctor. This is the whole truth, on my oath; and this is all I
+know about it."
+
+The landlady was recalled at the request of the jury, and questioned
+again about the old woman. She could give no information. Being asked
+next if any letters or papers belonging to, or written by, the deceased
+lady had been found, she declared that, after the strictest search,
+nothing had been discovered but two medical prescriptions. The writing
+desk was empty.
+
+The doctor was the next witness.
+
+He described the state in which he found the patient, on being called
+to the house. The symptoms were those of poisoning by strychnine.
+Examination of the prescriptions and the bottles, aided by the servant's
+information, convinced him that a fatal mistake had been made by the
+deceased; the nature of which he explained to the jury as he had already
+explained it to Amelius. Having mentioned the meeting with Amelius
+at the house-door, and the events which had followed, he closed his
+evidence by stating the result of the postmortem examination, proving
+that the death was caused by the poison called strychnine.
+
+The landlady and the servant were examined again. They were instructed
+to inform the jury exactly of the time that had elapsed, from the moment
+when the servant had left the deceased alone in the drawing-room, to
+the time when the screams were first heard. Having both given the
+same evidence, on this point, they were next asked whether any person,
+besides the old woman, had visited the deceased lady--or had on any
+pretence obtained access to her in the interval. Both swore positively
+that there had not even been a knock at the house-door in the interval,
+and that the area-gate was locked, and the key in the possession of the
+landlady. This evidence placed it beyond the possibility of doubt that
+the deceased had herself taken the poison. The question whether she had
+taken it by accident was the only question left to decide, when Amelius
+was called as the next witness.
+
+The lawyer retained by Mr. Melton, to watch the case on behalf of Mr.
+Farnaby, had hitherto not interfered. It was observed that he paid the
+closest attention to the inquiry, at the stage which it had now reached.
+
+Amelius was nervous at the outset. The early training in America, which
+had hardened him to face an audience and speak with self-possession
+on social and political subjects had not prepared him for the very
+difficult ordeal of a first appearance as a witness. Having answered
+the customary inquiries, he was so painfully agitated in describing Mrs.
+Farnaby's sufferings, that the coroner suspended the examination for a
+few minutes, to give him time to control himself. He failed, however, to
+recover his composure, until the narrative part of his evidence had come
+to an end. When the critical questions, bearing on his relations with
+Mrs. Farnaby, began, the audience noticed that he lifted his head,
+and looked and spoke, for the first time, like a man with a settled
+resolution in him, sure of himself.
+
+The questions proceeded:
+
+Was he in Mrs. Farnaby's confidence, on the subject of her domestic
+differences with her husband? Did those differences lead to her
+withdrawing herself from her husband's roof? Did Mrs. Farnaby inform
+him of the place of her retreat? To these three questions the witness,
+speaking quite readily in each case, answered Yes. Asked next, what the
+nature of the 'domestic differences' had been; whether they were likely
+to affect Mrs. Farnaby's mind seriously; why she had passed under an
+assumed name, and why she had confided the troubles of her married life
+to a young man like himself, only introduced to her a few months since,
+the witness simply declined to reply to the inquiries addressed to him.
+"The confidence Mrs. Farnaby placed in me," he said to the coroner, "was
+a confidence which I gave her my word of honour to respect. When I have
+said that, I hope the jury will understand that I owe it to the memory
+of the dead to say no more."
+
+There was a murmur of approval among the audience, instantly checked by
+the coroner. The foreman of the jury rose, and remarked that scruples
+of honour were out of place at a serious inquiry of that sort. Hearing
+this, the lawyer saw his opportunity, and got on his legs. "I represent
+the husband of the deceased lady," he said. "Mr. Goldenheart has
+appealed to the law of honour to justify him in keeping silence. I am
+astonished that there is a man to be found in this assembly who fails to
+sympathize with him. But as there appears to be such a person present,
+I ask permission, sir, to put a question to the witness. It may, or may
+not, satisfy the foreman of the jury; but it will certainly assist the
+object of the present inquiry."
+
+The coroner, after a glance at Mr. Melton, permitted the lawyer to put
+his question in these terms:--
+
+"Did your knowledge of Mrs. Farnaby's domestic troubles give you any
+reason to apprehend that they might urge her to commit suicide?
+
+"Certainly not," Amelius answered. "When I called on her, on the morning
+of her death, I had no apprehension whatever of her committing suicide.
+I went to the house as the bearer of good news; and I said so to the
+doctor, when he first spoke to me."
+
+The doctor confirmed this. The foreman was silenced, if not convinced.
+One of his brother-jurymen, however, feeling the force of example,
+interrupted the proceedings, by assailing Amelius with another
+question:--"We have heard that you were accompanied by a young lady at
+the time you have mentioned, and that you took her upstairs with you. We
+want to know what business the young lady had in the house?"
+
+The lawyer interfered again. "I object to that question," he said. "The
+purpose of the inquest is to ascertain how Mrs. Farnaby met with her
+death. What has the young lady to do with it? The doctor's evidence has
+already told us that she was not at the house, until after he had been
+called in, and the deadly action of the poison had begun. I appeal,
+sir, to the law of evidence, and to you, as the presiding authority, to
+enforce it. Mr. Goldenheart, who is acquainted with the circumstances
+of the deceased lady's life, has declared on his oath that there was
+nothing in those circumstances to inspire him with any apprehension
+of her committing suicide. The evidence of the servant at the lodgings
+points plainly to the conclusion already arrived at by the medical
+witness, that the death was the result of a lamentable mistake, and of
+that alone. Is our time to be wasted in irrelevant questions, and are
+the feelings of the surviving relatives to be cruelly lacerated to no
+purpose, to satisfy the curiosity of strangers?"
+
+A strong expression of approval from the audience followed this. The
+lawyer whispered to Mr. Melton, "It's all right!"
+
+Order being restored, the coroner ruled that the juryman's question
+was not admissible, and that the servant's evidence, taken with the
+statements of the doctor and the chemist, was the only evidence for
+the consideration of the jury. Summing up to this effect, he recalled
+Amelius, at the request of the foreman, to inquire if the witness knew
+anything of the old woman who had been frequently alluded to in the
+course of the proceedings. Amelius could answer this question as
+honestly as he had answered the questions preceding it. He neither knew
+the woman's name, nor where she was to be found. The coroner inquired,
+with a touch of irony, if the jury wished the inquest to be adjourned,
+under existing circumstances.
+
+For the sake of appearances, the jury consulted together. But the
+luncheon-hour was approaching; the servant's evidence was undeniably
+clear and conclusive; the coroner, in summing up, had requested them not
+to forget that the deceased had lost her temper with the servant, and
+that an angry woman might well make a mistake which would be unlikely
+in her cooler moments. All these influences led the jury irrepressibly,
+over the obstacles of obstinacy, on the way to submission. After a
+needless delay, they returned a verdict of "death by misadventure." The
+secret of Mrs. Farnaby's suicide remained inviolate; the reputation of
+her vile husband stood as high as ever; and the future life of Amelius
+was, from that fatal moment, turned irrevocably into a new course.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 3
+
+On the conclusion of the proceedings, Mr. Melton, having no further
+need of Amelius or the lawyer, drove away by himself. But he was too
+inveterately polite to omit making his excuses for leaving them in a
+hurry; he expected, he said, to find a telegram from Paris waiting at
+his house. Amelius only delayed his departure to ask the landlady if
+the day of the funeral was settled. Hearing that it was arranged for the
+next morning, he thanked her, and returned at once to the cottage.
+
+Sally was waiting his arrival to complete some purchases of mourning for
+her unhappy mother; Toff's wife being in attendance to take care of
+her. She was curious to know how the inquest had ended. In answering
+her question, Amelius was careful to warn her, if her companion made
+any inquiries, only to say that she had lost her mother under very sad
+circumstances. The two having left the cottage, he instructed Toff to
+let in a stranger, who was to call by previous appointment, and to close
+the door to every one else. In a few minutes, the expected person,
+a young man, who gave the name of Morcross, made his appearance, and
+sorely puzzled the old Frenchman. He was well dressed; his manner was
+quiet and self-possessed--and yet he did not look like a gentleman. In
+fact, he was a policeman of the higher order, in plain clothes.
+
+Being introduced to the library, he spread out on the table some sheets
+of manuscript, in the handwriting of Amelius, with notes in red ink on
+the margin, made by himself.
+
+"I understand, sir," he began, "that you have reasons for not bringing
+this case to trial in a court of law?"
+
+"I am sorry to say," Amelius answered, "that I dare not consent to the
+exposure of a public trial, for the sake of persons living and dead.
+For the same reason, I have written the account of the conspiracy with
+certain reserves. I hope I have not thrown any needless difficulties in
+your way?"
+
+"Certainly not, sir. But I should wish to ask, what you propose to do,
+in case I discover the people concerned in the conspiracy?"
+
+Amelius owned, very reluctantly, that he could do nothing with the old
+woman who had been the accomplice. "Unless," he added, "I can induce
+her to assist me in bringing the man to justice for other crimes which I
+believe him to have committed."
+
+"Meaning the man named Jervy, sir, in this statement?"
+
+"Yes. I have reason to believe that he has been obliged to leave the
+United States, after committing some serious offence--"
+
+"I beg your pardon for interrupting you, sir. Is it serious enough to
+charge him with, under the treaty between the two countries?"
+
+"I don't doubt it's serious enough. I have telegraphed to the persons
+who formerly employed him, for the particulars. Mind this! I will stick
+at no sacrifice to make that scoundrel suffer for what he has done."
+
+In those plain words Amelius revealed, as frankly as usual, the
+purpose that was in him. The terrible remembrances associated with Mrs.
+Farnaby's last moments had kindled, in his just and generous nature, a
+burning sense of the wrong inflicted on the poor heart-broken creature
+who had trusted and loved him. The unendurable thought that the wretch
+who had tortured her, robbed her, and driven her to her death had
+escaped with impunity, literally haunted him night and day. Eager to
+provide for Sally's future, he had followed Mrs. Farnaby's instructions,
+and had seen the lawyer privately, during the period that had elapsed
+between the death and the inquest. Hearing that there were formalities
+to be complied with, which would probably cause some delay, he had at
+once announced his determination to employ the interval in attempting
+the pursuit of Jervy. The lawyer--after vainly pointing out the serious
+objections to the course proposed--so far yielded to the irresistible
+earnestness and good faith of Amelius as to recommend him to a competent
+man, who could be trusted not to deceive him. The same day the man had
+received a written statement of the case; and he had now arrived to
+report the result of his first proceedings to his employer.
+
+"One thing I want to know, before you tell me anything else," Amelius
+resumed. "Is my written description of Jervy plain enough to help you to
+find him?"
+
+"It's so plain, sir, that some of the older men in our office have
+recognized him by it--under another name than the name you give him."
+
+"Does that add to the difficulty of tracing him?"
+
+"He has been a long time away from England, sir; and it's by no means
+easy to trace him, on that account. I have been to the young woman,
+named Phoebe in your statement, to find out what she can tell me about
+him. She's ready enough, in the intervals of crying, to help us to
+lay our hands on the man who has deserted her. It's the old story of a
+fellow getting at a girl's secrets and a girl's money, under pretence of
+marrying her. At one time, she's furious with him, and at another she's
+ready to cry her eyes out. I got some information from her; it's not
+much, but it may help us. The name of the old woman, who has been the
+go-between in the business, is Mrs. Sowler--known to the police as
+an inveterate drunkard, and worse. I don't think there will be much
+difficulty in tracing Mrs. Sowler. As to Jervy, if the young woman is
+to be believed, and I think she is, there's little doubt that he has got
+the money from the lady mentioned in my instructions here, and that he
+has bolted with the sum about him. Wait a bit, sir, I haven't done with
+my discoveries yet. I asked the young woman, of course, if she had his
+photograph. He's a sharp fellow; she had it, but he got it away from
+her, on pretence of giving her a better one, before he took himself off.
+Having missed this chance, I asked next if she knew where he lived last.
+She directed me to the place; and I have had a talk with the landlord.
+He tells me of a squint-eyed man, who was a good deal about the house,
+doing Jervy's dirty work for him. If I am not misled by the description,
+I think I know the man. I have my own notion of what he's capable of
+doing, if he gets the chance--and I propose to begin by finding our way
+to him, and using him as a means of tracing Jervy. It's only right to
+tell you that it may take some time to do this--for which reason I have
+to propose, in the mean while, trying a shorter way to the end in view.
+Do you object, sir, to the expense of sending a copy of your description
+of Jervy to every police-station in London?"
+
+"I object to nothing which may help to find him. Do you think the police
+have got him anywhere?"
+
+"You forget, sir, that the police have no orders to take him. What I'm
+speculating on is the chance that he has got the money about him--say in
+small banknotes, for convenience of changing them, you know."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Well, sir, the people he lives among--the squint-eyed man, for
+instance!--don't stick at trifles. If any of them have found out that
+Jervy's purse is worth having--"
+
+"You mean they would rob him?"
+
+"And murder him too, sir, if he tried to resist."
+
+Amelius started to his feet. "Send round to the police-stations without
+losing another minute," he said. "And let me hear what the answer is,
+the instant you receive it."
+
+"Suppose I get the answer late at night, sir?"
+
+"I don't care when you get it, night or day. Dead or living, I will
+undertake to identify him. Here's a duplicate key of the garden gate.
+Come this way, and I'll show you where my bedroom is. If we are all
+in bed, tap at the window--and I will be ready for you at a moment's
+notice."
+
+On that understanding Morcross left the cottage.
+
+The day when the mortal remains of Mrs. Farnaby were laid at rest was a
+day of heavy rain. Mr. Melton, and two or three other old friends, were
+the attendants at the funeral. When the coffin was borne into the
+damp and reeking burial ground, a young man and a woman were the only
+persons, beside the sexton and his assistants, who stood by the open
+grave. Mr. Melton, recognizing Amelius, was at a loss to understand
+who his companion could be. It was impossible to suppose that he would
+profane that solemn ceremony by bringing to it the lost woman at the
+cottage. The thick black veil of the person with him hid her face from
+view. No visible expressions of grief escaped her. When the last sublime
+words of the burial service had been read, those two mourners were left,
+after the others had all departed, still standing together by the grave.
+Mr. Melton decided on mentioning the circumstance confidentially when
+he wrote to his friend in Paris. Telegrams from Regina, in reply to his
+telegrams from London, had informed him that Mr. Farnaby had felt the
+benefit of the remedies employed, and was slowly on the way to recovery.
+It seemed likely that he would, in no long time, take the right course
+for the protection of his niece. For the enlightenment which might, or
+might not, come with that time, Mr. Melton was resigned to wait, with
+the disciplined patience to which he had been mainly indebted for his
+success in life.
+
+
+"Always remember your mother tenderly, my child," said Amelius, as they
+left the burial ground. "She was sorely tried, poor thing, in her life
+time, and she loved you very dearly."
+
+"Do you know anything of my father?" Sally asked timidly. "Is he still
+living?"
+
+"My dear, you will never see your father. I must be all that the kindest
+father and mother could have been to you, now. Oh, my poor little girl!"
+
+She pressed his arm to her as she held it. "Why should you pity me?" she
+said. "Haven't I got You?"
+
+They passed the day together quietly at the cottage. Amelius took down
+some of his books, and pleased Sally by giving her his first lessons.
+Soon after ten o'clock she withdrew, at the usual early hour, to her
+room. In her absence, he sent for Toff, intending to warn him not to be
+alarmed if he heard footsteps in the garden, after they had all gone to
+bed. The old servant had barely entered the library, when he was called
+away by the bell at the outer gate. Amelius, looking into the hall,
+discovered Morcross, and signed to him eagerly to come in. The
+police-officer closed the door cautiously behind him. He had arrived
+with news that Jervy was found.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 4
+
+"Where has he been found?" Amelius asked, snatching up his hat.
+
+"There's no hurry, sir," Morcross answered quietly. "When I had the
+honour of seeing you yesterday, you said you meant to make Jervy suffer
+for what he had done. Somebody else has saved you the trouble. He was
+found this evening in the river."
+
+"Drowned?"
+
+"Stabbed in three places, sir; and put out of the way in the
+river--that's the surgeon's report. Robbed of everything he
+possessed--that's the police report, after searching his pockets."
+
+Amelius was silent. It had not entered into his calculations that crime
+breeds crime, and that the criminal might escape him under that law.
+For the moment, he was conscious of a sense of disappointment, revealing
+plainly that the desire for vengeance had mingled with the higher
+motives which animated him. He felt uneasy and ashamed, and longed as
+usual to take refuge in action from his own unwelcome thoughts. "Are
+you sure it is the man?" he asked. "My description may have misled the
+police--I should like to see him myself."
+
+"Certainly, sir. While we are about it, if you feel any curiosity to
+trace Jervy's ill-gotten money, there's a chance (from what I have
+heard) of finding the man with the squint. The people at our place think
+it's likely he may have been concerned in the robbery, if he hasn't
+committed the murder."
+
+In an hour after, under the guidance of Morcross, Amelius passed through
+the dreary doors of a deadhouse, situated on the southern bank of the
+Thames, and saw the body of Jervy stretched out on a stone slab. The
+guardian who held the lantern, inured to such horrible sights, declared
+that the corpse could not have been in the water more than two days. To
+any one who had seen the murdered man, the face, undisfigured by injury
+of any kind, was perfectly recognizable. Amelius knew him again, dead,
+as certainly as he had known him again, living, when he was waiting for
+Phoebe in the street.
+
+"If you're satisfied, sir," said Morcross, "the inspector at the
+police-station is sending a sergeant to look after 'Wall-Eyes'--the name
+they give hereabouts to the man suspected of the robbery. We can take
+the sergeant with us in the cab, if you like."
+
+Still keeping on the southern bank of the river, they drove for
+a quarter of an hour in a westerly direction, and stopped at a
+public-house. The sergeant of police went in by himself to make the
+first inquiries.
+
+"We are a day too late, sir," he said to Amelius, on returning to the
+cab. "Wall-Eyes was here last night, and Mother Sowler with him, judging
+by the description. Both of them drunk--and the woman the worse of the
+two. The landlord knew nothing more about it; but there's a man at
+the bar tells me he heard of them this morning (still drinking) at the
+Dairy."
+
+"The Dairy?" Amelius repeated.
+
+Morcross interposed with the necessary explanation. "An old house, sir,
+which once stood by itself in the fields. It was a dairy a hundred years
+ago; and it has kept the name ever since, though it's nothing but a low
+lodging house now."
+
+"One of the worst places on this side of the river," the sergeant added,
+"The landlord's a returned convict. Sly as he is we shall have him again
+yet, for receiving stolen goods. There's every sort of thief among his
+lodgers, from a pickpocket to a housebreaker. It's my duty to continue
+the inquiry, sir; but a gentleman like you will be better, I should say,
+out of such a place as that."
+
+Still disquieted by the sight that he had seen in the deadhouse, and by
+the associations which that sight had recalled, Amelius was ready for
+any adventure which might relieve his mind. Even the prospect of a visit
+to a thieves' lodging house was more welcome to him than the prospect of
+going home alone. "If there's no serious objection to it," he said, "I
+own I should like to see the place."
+
+"You'll be safe enough with us," the sergeant replied. "If you don't
+mind filthy people and bad language--all right, sir! Cabman, drive to
+the Dairy."
+
+Their direction was now towards the south, through a perfect labyrinth
+of mean and dirty streets. Twice the driver was obliged to ask his way.
+On the second occasion the sergeant, putting his head out of the window
+to stop the cab, cried, "Hullo! there's something up."
+
+They got out in front of a long low rambling house, a complete contrast
+to the modern buildings about it. Late as the hour was, a mob had
+assembled in front of the door. The police were on the spot keeping the
+people in order.
+
+Morcross and the sergeant pushed their way through the crowd, leading
+Amelius between them. "Something wrong, sir, in the back kitchen," said
+one of the policemen answering the sergeant while he opened the street
+door. A few yards down the passage there was a second door, with a
+man on the watch by it. "There's a nice to-do downstairs," the man
+announced, recognizing the sergeant, and unlocking the door with a key
+which he took from his pocket. "The landlord at the Dairy knows his
+lodgers, sir," Morcross whispered to Amelius; "the place is kept like
+a prison." As they passed through the second door, a frantic voice
+startled them, shouting in fury from below. An old man came hobbling
+up the kitchen stairs, his eyes wild with fear, his long grey hair all
+tumbled over his face. "Oh, Lord, have you got the tools for breaking
+open the door?" he asked, wringing his dirty hands in an agony of
+supplication. "She'll set the house on fire! she'll kill my wife and
+daughter!" The sergeant pushed him contemptuously out of the way,
+and looked round for Amelius. "It's only the landlord, sir; keep near
+Morcross, and follow me."
+
+They descended the kitchen stairs, the frantic cries below growing
+louder and louder at every step they took; and made their way through
+the thieves and vagabonds crowding together in the passage. Passing on
+their right hand a solid old oaken door fast closed, they reached an
+open wicket-gate of iron which led into a stone-paved yard. A heavily
+barred window was now visible in the back wall of the house, raised
+three or four feet from the pavement of the yard. The room within was
+illuminated by a blaze of gaslight. More policemen were here, keeping
+back more inquisitive lodgers. Among the spectators was a man with a
+hideous outward squint, holding by the window-bars in a state of
+drunken terror. The sergeant looked at him, and beckoned to one of the
+policemen. "Take him to the station; I shall have something to say to
+Wall-Eyes when he's sober. Now then! stand back all of you, and let's
+see what's going on in the kitchen."
+
+He took Amelius by the arm, and led him to the window. Even the sergeant
+started when the scene inside met his view. "By God!" he cried, "it's
+Mother Sowler herself."
+
+It _was_ Mother Sowler. The horrible woman was tramping round and round
+in the middle of the kitchen, like a beast in a cage; raving in the
+dreadful drink-madness called delirium tremens. In the farthest corner
+of the room, barricaded behind the table, the landlord's wife and
+daughter crouched in terror of their lives. The gas, turned full on,
+blazed high enough to blacken the ceiling, and showed the heavy bolts
+shot at the top and bottom of the solid door. Nothing less than a
+battering-ram could have burst that door in from the outer side; an
+hour's work with the file would have failed to break a passage through
+the bars over the window. "How did she get there?" the sergeant asked.
+"Run downstairs, and bolted herself in, while the missus and the young
+'un were cooking"--was the answering cry from the people in the yard. As
+they spoke, another vain attempt was made to break in the door from
+the passage. The noise of the heavy blows redoubled the frenzy of the
+terrible creature in the kitchen, still tramping round and round under
+the blazing gaslight. Suddenly, she made a dart at the window, and
+confronted the men looking in from the yard. Her staring eyes were
+bloodshot; a purple-red flush was over her face; her hair waved wildly
+about her, torn away in places by her own hands. "Cats!" she screamed,
+glaring out of the window, "millions of cats! all their months wide
+open spitting at me! Fire! fire to scare away the cats!" She searched
+furiously in her pocket, and tore out a handful of loose papers. One of
+them escaped, and fluttered downward to a wooden press under the window.
+Amelius was nearest, and saw it plainly as it fell, "Good heavens!" he
+exclaimed, "it's a bank-note!" "Wall-Eyes' money!" shouted the thieves
+in the yard; "She's going to burn Wall-Eyes' money!" The madwoman turned
+back to the middle of the kitchen, leapt up at the gas-burner, and set
+fire to the bank-notes. She scattered them flaming all round her on the
+kitchen floor. "Away with you!" she shouted, shaking her fists at the
+visionary multitude of cats. "Away with you, up the chimney! Away with
+you, out of the window!" She sprang back to the window, with her crooked
+fingers twisted in her hair! "The snakes!" she shrieked; "the snakes are
+hissing again in my hair! the beetles are crawling over my face!"
+She tore at her hair; she scraped her face with long black nails that
+lacerated the flesh. Amelius turned away, unable to endure the sight of
+her. Morcross took his place, eyed her steadily for a moment, and saw
+the way to end it. "A quarter of gin!" he shouted. "Quick! before she
+leaves the window!" In a minute he had the pewter measure in his hand,
+and tapped at the window. "Gin, Mother Sowler! Break the window,
+and have a drop of gin!" For a moment, the drunkard mastered her own
+dreadful visions at the sight of the liquor. She broke a pane of
+glass with her clenched fist. "The door!" cried Morcross, to the
+panic-stricken women, barricaded behind the table. "The door!" he
+reiterated, as he handed the gin in through the bars. The elder woman
+was too terrified to understand him; her bolder daughter crawled
+under the table, rushed across the kitchen, and drew the bolts. As the
+madwoman turned to attack her, the room was filled with men, headed by
+the sergeant. Three of them were barely enough to control the frantic
+wretch, and bind her hand and foot. When Amelius entered the kitchen,
+after she had been conveyed to the hospital, a five-pound note on
+the press (secured by one of the police), and a few frail black ashes
+scattered thinly on the kitchen floor, were the only relics left of the
+ill-gotten money.
+
+
+After-inquiry, patiently pursued in more than one direction, failed to
+throw any light on the mystery of Jervy's death. Morcross's report to
+Amelius, towards the close of the investigation, was little more than
+ingenious guess-work.
+
+"It seems pretty clear, sir, in the first place, that Mother Sowler must
+have overtaken Wall-Eyes, after he had left the letter at Mrs. Farnaby's
+lodgings. In the second place, we are justified (as I shall show
+you directly) in assuming that she told him of the money in Jervy's
+possession, and that the two succeeded in discovering Jervy--no doubt
+through Wall-Eyes' superior knowledge of his master's movements.
+The evidence concerning the bank-notes proves this. We know, by the
+examination of the people at the Dairy, that Wall-Eyes took from his
+pocket a handful of notes, when they refused to send for liquor without
+having the money first. We are also informed, that the breaking-out of
+the drink-madness in Mother Sowler showed itself in her snatching the
+notes out of his hand, and trying to strangle him--before she ran down
+into the kitchen and bolted herself in. Lastly, Mrs. Farnaby's bankers
+have identified the note saved from the burning, as one of forty
+five-pound notes paid to her cheque. So much for the tracing of the
+money.
+
+"I wish I could give an equally satisfactory account of the tracing of
+the crime. We can make nothing of Wall-Eyes. He declares that he didn't
+even know Jervy was dead, till we told him; and he swears he found
+the money dropped in the street. It is needless to say that this last
+assertion is a lie. Opinions are divided among us as to whether he is
+answerable for the murder as well as the robbery, or whether there was a
+third person concerned in it. My own belief is that Jervy was drugged by
+the old woman (with a young woman very likely used as a decoy), in some
+house by the riverside, and then murdered by Wall-Eyes in cold blood.
+We have done our best to clear the matter up, and we have not succeeded.
+The doctors give us no hope of any assistance from Mother Sowler. If
+she gets over the attack (which is doubtful), they say she will die to
+a certainty of liver disease. In short, my own fear is that this will
+prove to be one more of those murders which are mysteries to the police
+as well as the public."
+
+The report of the case excited some interest, published in the
+newspapers in conspicuous type. Meddlesome readers wrote letters,
+offering complacently stupid suggestions to the police. After a while,
+another crime attracted general attention; and the murder of Jervy
+disappeared from the public memory, among other forgotten murders of
+modern times.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 5
+
+The last dreary days of November came to their end.
+
+No longer darkened by the shadows of crime and torment and death, the
+life of Amelius glided insensibly into the peaceful byways of seclusion,
+brightened by the companionship of Sally. The winter days followed one
+another in a happy uniformity of occupations and amusements. There were
+lessons to fill up the morning, and walks to occupy the afternoon--and,
+in the evenings, sometimes reading, sometimes singing, sometimes nothing
+but the lazy luxury of talk. In the vast world of London, with its
+monstrous extremes of wealth and poverty, and its all-permeating malady
+of life at fever-heat, there was one supremely innocent and supremely
+happy creature. Sally had heard of Heaven, attainable on the hard
+condition of first paying the debt of death. "I have found a kinder
+Heaven," she said, one day. "It is here in the cottage; and Amelius has
+shown me the way to it."
+
+Their social isolation was at this time complete: they were two
+friendless people, perfectly insensible to all that was perilous and
+pitiable in their own position. They parted with a kiss at night, and
+they met again with a kiss in the morning--and they were as happily free
+from all mistrust of the future as a pair of birds. No visitors came to
+the house; the few friends and acquaintances of Amelius, forgotten
+by him, forgot him in return. Now and then, Toff's wife came to the
+cottage, and exhibited the "cherubim-baby." Now and then, Toff himself
+(a musician among his other accomplishments) brought his fiddle
+upstairs; and, saying modestly, "A little music helps to pass the time,"
+played to the young master and mistress the cheerful tinkling tunes
+of the old vaudevilles of France. They were pleased with these small
+interruptions when they came; and they were not disappointed when the
+days passed, and the baby and the vaudevilles were hushed in absence and
+silence. So the happy winter time went by; and the howling winds brought
+no rheumatism with them, and even the tax-gatherer himself, looking
+in at this earthly paradise, departed without a curse when he left his
+little paper behind him.
+
+Now and then, at long intervals, the outer world intruded itself in the
+form of a letter.
+
+Regina wrote, always with the same placid affection; always entering
+into the same minute narrative of the slow progress of "dear uncle's"
+return to health. He was forbidden to exert himself in any way. His
+nerves were in a state of lamentable irritability. "I dare not even
+mention your name to him, dear Amelius; it seems, I cannot think why, to
+make him--oh, so unreasonably angry. I can only submit, and pray that
+he may soon be himself again." Amelius wrote back, always in the same
+considerate and gentle tone; always laying the blame of his dull letters
+on the studious uniformity of his life. He preserved, with a perfectly
+easy conscience, the most absolute silence on the subject of Sally.
+While he was faithful to Regina, what reason had he to reproach himself
+with the protection that he offered to a poor motherless girl? When he
+was married, he might mention the circumstances under which he had met
+with Sally, and leave the rest to his wife's sympathy.
+
+One morning, the letters with the Paris post-mark were varied by a few
+lines from Rufus.
+
+"Every morning, my bright boy, I get up and say to myself, 'Well! I
+reckon it's about time to take the route for London;' and every morning,
+if you'll believe me, I put it off till next day. Whether it's in the
+good feeding (expensive, I admit; but when your cook helps you to digest
+instead of hindering you, a man of my dyspeptic nation is too grateful
+to complain)--or whether it's in the air, which reminds me, I do assure
+you, of our native atmosphere at Coolspring, Mass., is more than I can
+tell, with a hard steel pen on a leaf of flimsy paper. You have heard
+the saying, 'When a good American dies, he goes to Paris'. Maybe,
+sometimes, he's smart enough to discount his own death, and rationally
+enjoy the future time in the present. This you see is a poetic light.
+But, mercy be praised, the moral of my residence in Paris is plain:--If
+I can't go to Amelius, Amelius must come to me. Note the address Grand
+Hotel; and pack up, like a good boy, on receipt of this. Memorandum: The
+brown Miss is here. I saw her taking the air in a carriage, and raised
+my hat. She looked the other way.
+
+"British--eminently British! But, there, I bear no malice; I am her most
+obedient servant, and yours affectionately, RUFUS.--Postscript: I
+want you to see some of our girls at this hotel. The genuine American
+material, sir, perfected by Worth."
+
+Another morning brought with it a few sad lines from Phoebe. "After what
+had happened, she was quite unable to face her friends; she had no heart
+to seek employment in her own country--her present life was too dreary
+and too hopeless to be endured. A benevolent lady had made her an offer
+to accompany a party of emigrants to New Zealand; and she had accepted
+the proposal. Perhaps, among the new people, she might recover her
+self-respect and her spirits, and live to be a better woman. Meanwhile,
+she bade Mr. Goldenheart farewell; and asked his pardon for taking the
+liberty of wishing him happy with Miss Regina."
+
+Amelius wrote a few kind lines to Phoebe, and a cordial reply to Rufus,
+making the pursuit of his studies his excuse for remaining in London.
+After this, there was no further correspondence. The mornings succeeded
+each other, and the postman brought no more news from the world outside.
+
+But the lessons went on; and the teacher and pupil were as
+inconsiderately happy as ever in each other's society. Observing with
+inexhaustible interest the progress of the mental development of
+Sally, Amelius was slow to perceive the physical development which was
+unobtrusively keeping pace with it. He was absolutely ignorant of the
+part which his own influence was taking in the gradual and delicate
+process of change. Ere long, the first forewarnings of the coming
+disturbance in their harmless relations towards each other, began to
+show themselves. Ere long, there were signs of a troubled mind in Sally,
+which were mysteries to Amelius, and subjects of wonderment, sometimes
+even trials of temper, to the girl herself.
+
+One day, she looked in from the door of her room, in her white
+dressing-gown, and asked to be forgiven if she kept the lessons of the
+morning waiting for a little while.
+
+"Come in," said Amelius, "and tell me why."
+
+She hesitated. "You won't think me lazy, if you see me in my
+dressing-gown?"
+
+"Of course not! Your dressing-gown, my dear, is as good as any other
+gown. A young girl like you looks best in white."
+
+She came in with her work-basket, and her indoor dress over her arm.
+
+Amelius laughed. "Why haven't you put it on?" he asked.
+
+She sat down in a corner, and looked at her work-basket, instead of
+looking at Amelius. "It doesn't fit me so well as it did," she answered.
+"I am obliged to alter it."
+
+Amelius looked at her--at the charming youthful figure that had filled
+out, at the softly-rounded outline of the face with no angles and
+hollows in it now. "Is it the dressmaker's fault?" he asked slyly.
+
+Her eyes were still on the basket. "It's my fault," she said. "You
+remember what a poor little skinny creature I was, when you first saw
+me. I--you won't like me the worse for it, will you?--I am getting fat.
+I don't know why. They say happy people get fat. Perhaps that's why.
+I'm never hungry, and never frightened, and never miserable now--" She
+stopped; her dress slipped from her lap to the floor. "Don't look at
+me!" she said--and suddenly put her hands over her face.
+
+Amelius saw the tears finding their way through the pretty plump
+fingers, which he remembered so shapeless and so thin. He crossed the
+room, and touched her gently on the shoulder. "My dear child! have I
+said anything to distress you?"
+
+"Nothing."
+
+"Then why are you crying?"
+
+"I don't know." She hesitated; looked at him; and made a desperate
+effort to tell him what was in her mind. "I'm afraid you'll get tired
+of me. There's nothing about me to make you pity me now. You seem to
+be--not quite the same--no! it isn't that--I don't know what's come to
+me--I'm a greater fool than ever. Give me my lesson, Amelius! please
+give me my lesson!"
+
+Amelius produced the books, in some little surprise at Sally's
+extraordinary anxiety to begin her lessons, while the unaltered dress
+lay neglected on the carpet at her feet. A discreet abstract of the
+history of England, published for the use of young persons, happened
+to be at the top of the books. The system of education under Amelius
+recognized the laws of chance: they began with the history, because it
+turned up first. Sally read aloud; and Sally's master explained obscure
+passages, and corrected occasional errors of pronunciation, as she went
+on. On that particular morning, there was little to explain and nothing
+to correct. "Am I doing it well today?" Sally inquired, on reaching the
+end of her task.
+
+"Very well, indeed."
+
+She shut the book, and looked at her teacher. "I wonder how it is," she
+resumed, "that I get on so much better with my lessons here than I did
+at the Home? And yet it's foolish of me to wonder. I get on better,
+because you are teaching me, of course. But I don't feel satisfied with
+myself. I'm the same helpless creature--I feel your kindness, and can't
+make any return to you--for all my learning. I should like--" She left
+the thought in her unexpressed, and opened her copy-book. "I'll do my
+writing now," she said, in a quiet resigned way. "Perhaps I may improve
+enough, some day, to keep your accounts for you." She chose her pen a
+little absently, and began to write. Amelius looked over her shoulder,
+and laughed; she was writing his name. He pointed to the copper-plate
+copy on the top line, presenting an undeniable moral maxim, in
+characters beyond the reach of criticism:--Change Is A Law Of Nature.
+"There, my dear, you are to copy that till you're tired of it," said the
+easy master; "and then we'll try overleaf, another copy beginning with
+letter D."
+
+Sally laid down her pen. "I don't like 'Change is a law of Nature',"
+she said, knitting her pretty eyebrows into a frown. "I looked at those
+words yesterday, and they made me miserable at night. I was foolish
+enough to think that we should always go on together as we go on now,
+till I saw that copy. I hate the copy! It came to my mind when I was
+awake in the dark, and it seemed to tell me that _we_ were going to
+change some day. That's the worst of learning--one knows too much, and
+then there's an end of one's happiness. Thoughts come to you, when you
+don't want them. I thought of the young lady we saw last week in the
+park."
+
+She spoke gravely and sadly. The bright contentment which had given a
+new charm to her eyes since she had been at the cottage, died out of
+them as Amelius looked at her. What had become of her childish manner
+and her artless smile? He drew his chair nearer to her. "What young lady
+do you mean?" he asked.
+
+Sally shook her head, and traced lines with her pen on the blotting
+paper. "Oh, you can't have forgotten her! A young lady, riding on a
+grand white horse. All the people were admiring her. I wonder you cared
+to look at me, after that beautiful creature had gone by. Ah, she knows
+all sorts of things that I don't--_she_ doesn't sound a note at a time
+on the piano, and as often as not the wrong one; _she_ can say her
+multiplication table, and knows all the cities in the world. I dare say
+she's almost as learned as you are. If you had her living here with you,
+wouldn't you like it better than only having me!" She dropped her arms
+on the table, and laid her head on them wearily. "The dreadful streets!"
+she murmured, in low tones of despair. "Why did I think of the dreadful
+streets, and the night I met with you--after I had seen the young lady?
+Oh, Amelius, are you tired of me? are you ashamed of me?" She lifted her
+head again, before he could answer, and controlled herself by a sudden
+effort of resolution. "I don't know what's the matter with me this
+morning," she said, looking at him with a pleading fear in her eyes.
+"Never mind my nonsense--I'll do the copy!" She began to write the
+unendurable assertion that change is a law of Nature, with trembling
+fingers and fast heaving breath. Amelius took the pen gently out of her
+hand. His voice faltered as he spoke to her.
+
+"We will give up the lessons for today, Sally. You have had a bad
+night's rest, my dear, and you are feeling it--that's all. Do you think
+you are well enough to come out with me, and try if the air will revive
+you a little?"
+
+She rose, and took his hand, and kissed it. "I believe, if I was dying,
+I should get well enough to go out with you! May I ask one little
+favour? Do you mind if we don't go into the park today?"
+
+"What has made you take a dislike to the park, Sally?"
+
+"We might meet the beautiful young lady again," she answered, with her
+head down. "I don't want to do that."
+
+"We will go wherever you like, my child. You shall decide--not I."
+
+She gathered up her dress from the floor, and hurried away to her
+room--without looking back at him as usual when she opened the door.
+
+Left by himself, Amelius sat at the table, mechanically turning over the
+lesson-books. Sally had perplexed and even distressed him. His capacity
+to preserve the harmless relations between them, depended mainly on the
+mute appeal which the girl's ignorant innocence unconsciously addressed
+to him. He felt this vaguely, without absolutely realizing it. By some
+mysterious process of association which he was unable to follow, a
+saying of the wise Elder Brother at Tadmor revived in his memory, while
+he was trying to see his way through the difficulties that beset him.
+"You will meet with many temptations, Amelius, when you leave our
+Community," the old man had said at parting; "and most of them will come
+to you through women. Be especially on your guard, my son, if you meet
+with a woman who makes you feel truly sorry for her. She is on
+the high-road to your passions, through the open door of your
+sympathies--and all the more certainly if she is not aware of it
+herself." Amelius felt the truth expressed in those words as he had
+never felt it yet. There had been signs of a changing nature in Sally
+for some little time past. But they had expressed themselves too
+delicately to attract the attention of a man unprepared to be on the
+watch. Only on that morning, they had been marked enough to force
+themselves on his notice. Only on that morning, she had looked at him,
+and spoken to him, as she had never looked or spoken before. He began
+dimly to see the danger for both of them, to which he had shut his eyes
+thus far. Where was the remedy? what ought he to do? Those questions
+came naturally into his mind--and yet, his mind shrank from pursuing
+them.
+
+He got up impatiently, and busied himself in putting away the
+lesson-books--a small duty hitherto always left to Toff.
+
+It was useless; his mind dwelt persistently on Sally.
+
+While he moved about the room, he still saw the look in her eyes, he
+still heard the tone of her voice, when she spoke of the young lady in
+the park. The words of the good physician whom he had consulted about
+her recurred to his memory now. "The natural growth of her senses
+has been stunted, like the natural growth of her body, by starvation,
+terror, exposure to cold, and other influences inherent in the life that
+she has led." And then the doctor had spoken of nourishing food, pure
+air, and careful treatment--of the life, in short, which she had led
+at the cottage--and had predicted that she would develop into "an
+intelligent and healthy young woman." Again he asked himself, "What
+ought I to do?"
+
+He turned aside to the window, and looked out. An idea occurred to him.
+How would it be, if he summoned courage enough to tell her that he was
+engaged to be married?
+
+No! Setting aside his natural dread of the shock that he might inflict
+on the poor grateful girl who had only known happiness under his care,
+the detestable obstacle of Mr. Farnaby stood immovably in his way. Sally
+would be sure to ask questions about his engagement, and would never
+rest until they were answered. It had been necessarily impossible to
+conceal her mother's name from her. The discovery of her father, if she
+heard of Regina and Regina's uncle, would be simply a question of time.
+What might such a man be not capable of doing, what new act of treachery
+might he not commit, if he found himself claimed by the daughter whom he
+had deserted? Even if the expression of Mrs. Farnaby's last wishes had
+not been sacred to Amelius, this consideration alone would have kept him
+silent, for Sally's sake.
+
+He now doubted for the first time if he had calculated wisely in
+planning to trust Sally's sad story, after his marriage, to the
+sympathies of his wife. The jealousy that she might naturally feel of
+a young girl, who was an object of interest to her husband, did not
+present the worst difficulty to contend with. She believed in her
+uncle's integrity as she believed in her religion. What would she say,
+what would she do, if the innocent witness to Farnaby's infamy was
+presented to her; if Amelius asked the protection for Sally which her
+own father had refused to her in her infancy; and if he said, as he must
+say, "Your uncle is the man"?
+
+And yet, what prospect could he see but the prospect of making the
+disclosure when he looked to his own interests next, and thought of his
+wedding day? Again the sinister figure of Farnaby confronted him. How
+could he receive the wretch whom Regina would innocently welcome to the
+house? There would be no longer a choice left; it would be his duty
+to himself to tell his wife the terrible truth. And what would be the
+result? He recalled the whole course of his courtship, and saw Farnaby
+always on a level with himself in Regina's estimation. In spite of his
+natural cheerfulness, in spite of his inbred courage, his heart failed
+him, when he thought of the time to come.
+
+As he turned away from the window, Sally's door opened: she joined him,
+ready for the walk. Her spirits had rallied, assisted by the cheering
+influence of dressing to go out. Her charming smile brightened her face.
+In sheer desperation, reckless of what he did or said, Amelius held
+out both hands to welcome her. "That's right, Sally!" he cried. "Look
+pleased and pretty, my dear; let's be happy while we can--and let the
+future take care of itself!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 6
+
+The capricious influences which combine to make us happy are never so
+certain to be absent influences as when we are foolish enough to talk
+about them. Amelius had talked about them. When he and Sally left the
+cottage, the road which led them away from the park was also the road
+which led them past a church. The influences of happiness left them at
+the church door.
+
+Rows of carriages were in waiting; hundreds of idle people were
+assembled about the church steps; the thunderous music of the organ
+rolled out through the open doors--a grand wedding, with choral service,
+was in course of celebration. Sally begged Amelius to take her in to
+see it. They tried the front entrance, and found it impossible to get
+through the crowd. A side entrance, and a fee to a verger, succeeded
+better. They obtained space enough to stand on, with a view of the
+altar.
+
+The bride was a tall buxom girl, splendidly dressed: she performed her
+part in the ceremony with the most unruffled composure. The bridegroom
+exhibited an instructive spectacle of aged Nature, sustained by Art.
+His hair, his complexion, his teeth, his breast, his shoulders, and his
+legs, showed what the wig-maker, the valet, the dentist, the tailor, and
+the hosier can do for a rich old man, who wishes to present a juvenile
+appearance while he is buying a young wife. No less than three
+clergymen were present, conducting the sale. The demeanour of the rich
+congregation was worthy of the glorious bygone days of the Golden Calf.
+So far as could be judged by appearances, one old lady, in a pew close
+to the place at which Amelius and Sally were standing, seemed to be the
+only person present who was not favourably impressed by the ceremony.
+
+"I call it disgraceful," the old lady remarked to a charming young
+person seated next to her.
+
+But the charming young person--being the legitimate product of the
+present time--had no more sympathy with questions of sentiment than
+a Hottentot. "How can you talk so, grandmamma!" she rejoined. "He has
+twenty thousand a year--and that lucky girl will be mistress of the most
+splendid house in London."
+
+"I don't care," the old lady persisted; "it's not the less a disgrace
+to everybody concerned in it. There is many a poor friendless creature,
+driven by hunger to the streets, who has a better claim to our sympathy
+than that shameless girl, selling herself in the house of God! I'll wait
+for you in the carriage--I won't see any more of it."
+
+Sally touched Amelius. "Take me out!" she whispered faintly.
+
+He supposed that the heat in the church had been too much for her. "Are
+you better now?" he asked, when they got into the open air.
+
+She held fast by his arm. "Let's get farther away," she said. "That lady
+is coming after us--I don't want her to see me again. I am one of the
+creatures she talked about. Is the mark of the streets on me, after all
+you have done to rub it out?"
+
+The wild misery in her words presented another development in her
+character which was entirely new to Amelius. "My dear child," he
+remonstrated, "you distress me when you talk in that way. God knows the
+life you are leading now."
+
+But Sally's mind was still full of its own acutely painful sense of what
+the lady had said. "I saw her," she burst out--"I saw her look at me
+while she spoke!"
+
+"And she thought you better worth looking at than the bride--and quite
+right, too!" Amelius rejoined. "Come, come, Sally, be like yourself. You
+don't want to make me unhappy about you, I am sure?"
+
+He had taken the right way with her: she felt that simple appeal, and
+asked his pardon with all the old charm in her manner and her voice.
+For the moment, she was "Simple Sally" again. They walked on in silence.
+When they had lost sight of the church, Amelius felt her hand beginning
+to tremble on his arm. A mingled expression of tenderness and anxiety
+showed itself in her blue eyes as they looked up at him. "I am thinking
+of something else now," she said; "I am thinking of You. May I ask you
+something?"
+
+Amelius smiled. The smile was not reflected as usual in Sally's face.
+"It's nothing particular," she explained in an odd hurried way; "the
+church put it into my head. You--" She hesitated, and tried it under
+another form. "Will you be married yourself, Amelius, one of these
+days?"
+
+He did his best to evade the question. "I am not rich, Sally, like the
+old gentleman we have just seen."
+
+Her eyes turned away from him; she sighed softly to herself. "You will
+be married some day," she said. "Will you do one kind thing more for me,
+Amelius, when I die? You remember my reading in the newspaper of the new
+invention for burning the dead--and my asking you about it. You said
+you thought it was better than burying, and you had a good mind to leave
+directions to be burnt instead of buried, when your time came. When _my_
+time has come, will you leave other directions about yourself, if I ask
+you?"
+
+"My dear, you are talking in a very strange way! If you will have it
+that I am to be married some day, what has that to do with your death?"
+
+"It doesn't matter, Amelius. When I have nothing left to live for, I
+suppose it's as likely as not I may die. Will you tell them to bury me
+in some quiet place, away from London, where there are very few graves?
+And when you leave your directions, don't say you are to be burnt.
+Say--when you have lived a long, long life, and enjoyed all the
+happiness you have deserved so well--say you are to be buried, and
+your grave is to be near mine. I should like to think of the same trees
+shading us, and the same flowers growing over us. No! don't tell me I'm
+talking strangely again--I can't bear it; I want you to humour me and
+be kind to me about this. Do you mind going home? I'm feeling a little
+tired--and I know I'm poor company for you today."
+
+The talk flagged at dinner-time, though Toff did his best to keep it
+going.
+
+In the evening, the excellent Frenchman made an effort to cheer the two
+dull young people. He came in confidentially with his fiddle, and
+said he had a favour to ask. "I possess some knowledge, sir, of the
+delightful art of dancing. Might I teach young Miss to dance? You see,
+if I may venture to say so, the other lessons--oh, most useful, most
+important, the other lessons! but they are just a little serious.
+Something to relieve her mind, sir--if you will forgive me for
+mentioning it. I plead for innocent gaiety--let us dance!"
+
+He played a few notes on the fiddle, and placed his right foot in
+position, and waited amiably to begin. Sally thanked him, and made
+the excuse that she was tired. She wished Amelius good night, without
+waiting until they were alone together--and, for the first time, without
+giving him the customary kiss.
+
+Toff waited until she had gone, and approached his master on tiptoe,
+with a low bow.
+
+"May I take the liberty of expressing an opinion, sir. A young girl who
+rejects the remedy of the fiddle presents a case of extreme gravity.
+Don't despair, sir! It is my pride and pleasure to be never at a loss,
+where your interests are concerned. This is, I think, a matter for the
+ministrations of a woman. If you have confidence in my wife, I venture
+to suggest a visit from Madame Toff."
+
+He discreetly retired, and left his master to think about it.
+
+The time passed--and Amelius was still thinking, and still as far as
+ever from arriving at a conclusion, when he heard a door opened behind
+him. Sally crossed the room before he could rise from his chair: her
+cheeks were flushed, her eyes were bright, her hair fell loose over her
+shoulders--she dropped at his feet, and hid her face on his knees. "I'm
+an ungrateful wretch!" she burst out; "I never kissed you when I said
+good night."
+
+With the best intentions, Amelius took the worst possible way of
+composing her--he treated her trouble lightly. "Perhaps you forgot it?"
+he said.
+
+She lifted her head, and looked at him, with the tears in her eyes. "I'm
+bad enough," she answered; "but not so bad as that. Oh, don't laugh!
+there's nothing to laugh at. Have you done with liking me? Are you angry
+with me for behaving so badly all day, and bidding you good night as if
+you were Toff? You shan't be angry with me!" She jumped up, and sat on
+his knee, and put her arms round his neck. "I haven't been to bed," she
+whispered; "I was too miserable to go to sleep. I don't know what's been
+the matter with me today. I seem to be losing the little sense I ever
+had. Oh, if I could only make you understand how fond I am of you! And
+yet I've had bitter thoughts, as if I was a burden to you, and I had
+done a wrong thing in coming here--and you would have told me so, only
+you pitied the poor wretch who had nowhere else to go." She tightened
+her hold round his neck, and laid her burning cheek against his face.
+"Oh, Amelius, my heart is sore! Kiss me, and say, 'Good night, Sally!'"
+
+He was young--he was a man--for a moment he lost his self control; he
+kissed her as he had never kissed her yet.
+
+Then, he remembered; he recovered himself; he put her gently away
+from him, and led her to the door of her room, and closed it on her in
+silence. For a little while, he waited alone. The interval over, he rang
+for Toff.
+
+"Do you think your wife would take Miss Sally as an apprentice?" he
+asked.
+
+Toff looked astonished. "Whatever you wish, sir, my wife will do. Her
+knowledge of the art of dressmaking is--" Words failed him to express
+his wife's immense capacity as a dressmaker. He kissed his hand in
+mute enthusiasm, and blew the kiss in the direction of Madame Toff's
+establishment. "However," he proceeded, "I ought to tell you one thing,
+sir; the business is small, small, very small. But we are all in the
+hands of Providence--the business will improve, one day." He lifted his
+shoulders and lifted his eyebrows, and looked perfectly satisfied with
+his wife's prospects.
+
+"I will go and speak to Madame Toff myself, tomorrow morning," Amelius
+resumed. "It's quite possible that I may be obliged to leave London for
+a little while--and I must provide in some way for Miss Sally. Don't
+say a word about it to her yet, Toff, and don't look miserable. If I go
+away, I shall take you with me. Good night."
+
+Toff, with his handkerchief halfway to his eyes, recovered his native
+cheerfulness. "I am invariably sick at sea, sir," he said; "but, no
+matter, I will attend you to the uttermost ends of the earth."
+
+So honest Amelius planned his way of escape from the critical position
+in which he found himself. He went to his bed, troubled by anxieties
+which kept him waking for many weary hours. Where was he to go to, when
+he left Sally? If he could have known what had happened, on that very
+day, on the other side of the Channel, he might have decided (in spite
+of the obstacle of Mr. Farnaby) on surprising Regina by a visit to
+Paris.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 7
+
+On the morning when Amelius and Sally (in London) entered the church to
+look at the wedding. Rufus (in Paris) went to the Champs Elysees to take
+a walk.
+
+He had advanced half-way up the magnificent avenue, when he saw Regina
+for the second time, taking her daily drive, with an elderly woman in
+attendance on her. Rufus took off his hat again, perfectly impenetrable
+to the cold reception which he had already experienced. Greatly to his
+surprise, Regina not only returned his salute, but stopped the carriage
+and beckoned to him to speak to her. Looking at her more closely, he
+perceived signs of suffering in her face which completely altered her
+expression as he remembered it. Her magnificent eyes were dim and red;
+she had lost her rich colour; her voice trembled as she spoke to him.
+
+"Have you a few minutes to spare?" she asked.
+
+"The whole day, if you like, Miss," Rufus answered.
+
+She turned to the woman who accompanied her. "Wait here for me,
+Elizabeth; I have something to say to this gentleman."
+
+With those words, she got out of the carriage. Rufus offered her his
+arm. She put her hand in it as readily as if they had been old friends.
+"Let us take one of the side paths," she said; "they are almost deserted
+at this time of day. I am afraid I surprise you very much. I can only
+trust to your kindness to forgive me for passing you without notice
+the last time we met. Perhaps it may be some excuse for me that I am in
+great trouble. It is just possible you may be able to relieve my mind. I
+believe you know I am engaged to be married?"
+
+Rufus looked at her with a sudden expression of interest. "Is this about
+Amelius?" he asked.
+
+She answered him almost inaudibly--"Yes."
+
+Rufus still kept his eyes fixed on her. "I don't wish to say anything,
+Miss," he explained; "but, if you have any complaint to make of Amelius,
+I should take it as a favour if you would look me straight in the face,
+and mention it plainly."
+
+In the embarrassment which troubled Regina at that moment, he had
+preferred the two requests of all others with which it was most
+impossible for her to comply. She still looked obstinately on the
+ground; and, instead of speaking of Amelius, she diverged to the subject
+of Mr. Farnaby's illness.
+
+"I am staying in Paris with my uncle," she said. "He has had a long
+illness; but he is strong enough now to speak to me of things that have
+been on his mind for some time past. He has so surprised me; he has made
+me so miserable about Amelius--" She paused, and put her handkerchief
+to her eyes. Rufus said nothing to console her--he waited doggedly until
+she was ready to go on. "You know Amelius well," she resumed; "you are
+fond of him; you believe in him, don't you? Do you think he is capable
+of behaving basely to any person who trusts him? Is it likely, is it
+possible, he could be false and cruel to Me?"
+
+The mere question roused the indignation of Rufus. "Whoever said that of
+him, Miss, told you a lie! I answer for my boy as I answer for myself."
+
+She looked at him at last, with a sudden expression of relief. "I said
+so too," she rejoined; "I said some enemy had slandered him. My uncle
+won't tell me who it is. He positively forbids me to write to Amelius;
+he tells me I must never see Amelius again--he is going to write and
+break off the engagement. Oh, it's too cruel! too cruel!"
+
+Thus far they had been walking on slowly. But now Rufus stopped,
+determined to make her speak plainly.
+
+"Take a word of advice from me, Miss," he said. "Never trust anybody by
+halves. There's nothing I'm not ready to do, to set this matter right;
+but I must know what I'm about first. What's said against Amelius? Out
+with it, no matter what 'tis! I'm old enough to be your father; and I
+feel for you accordingly--I do."
+
+The thorough sincerity of tone and manner which accompanied those words
+had its effect. Regina blushed and trembled--but she spoke out.
+
+"My uncle says Amelius has disgraced himself, and insulted me; my uncle
+says there is a person--a girl living with him--" She stopped, with a
+faint cry of alarm. Her hand, still testing on the arm of Rufus, felt
+him start as the allusion to the girl passed her lips. "You have heard
+of it!" she cried. "Oh, God help me, it's true!"
+
+"True?" Rufus repeated, with stern contempt. "What's come to you?
+Haven't I told you already, it's a lie? I'll answer to it, Amelius is
+true to you. Will that do? No? You're an obstinate one, Miss--that you
+are. Well! it's due to the boy that I should set him right with you, if
+words will do it. You know how he's been brought up at Tadmor? Bear
+that in mind--and now you shall have the truth of it, on the word of an
+honest man."
+
+Without further preface, he told her how Amelius had met with Sally,
+insisting strongly on the motives of pure humanity by which his friend
+had been actuated. Regina listened with an obstinate expression of
+distrust which would have discouraged most men. Rufus persisted,
+nevertheless; and, to some extent at least, succeeded in producing the
+right impression. When he reached the close of the narrative--when he
+asserted that he had himself seen Amelius confide the girl unreservedly
+to the care of a lady who was a dear and valued friend of his own; and
+when he declared that there had been no after-meeting between them and
+no written correspondence--then, at last, Regina owned that he had not
+encouraged her to trust in the honour of Amelius, without reason to
+justify him. But, even under these circumstances, there was a residue of
+suspicion still left in her mind. She asked for the name of the lady to
+whose benevolent assistance Amelius had been indebted. Rufus took out
+one of his cards, and wrote Mrs. Payson's name and address on it.
+
+"Your nature, my dear, is not quite so confiding as I could have wished
+to see it," he said, quietly handing her the card. "But we can't change
+our natures--can we? And you're not bound to believe a man like me,
+without witnesses to back him. Write to Mrs. Payson, and make your mind
+easy. And, while we are about it, tell me where I can telegraph to you
+tomorrow--I'm off to London by the night mail."
+
+"Do you mean, you are going to see Amelius?
+
+"That is so. I'm too fond of Amelius to let this trouble rest where 'tis
+now. I've been away from him, here in Paris, for some little time--and
+you may tell me (and quite right, too) I can't answer for what may have
+been going on in my absence. No! now we are about it, we'll have it out.
+I mean to see Amelius and see Mrs. Payson, tomorrow morning. Just tell
+your uncle to hold his hand, before he breaks off your marriage, and
+wait for a telegram from me. Well? and this is your address, is it?
+I know the hotel. A nice look-out on the Twillery Gardens--but a bad
+cellar of wine, as I hear. I'm at the Grand Hotel myself, if there's
+anything else that troubles you before evening. Now I look at you again,
+I reckon there's something more to be said, if you'll only let it find
+its way to your tongue. No; it ain't thanks. We'll take the gratitude
+for granted, and get to what's behind it. There's your carriage--and the
+good lady looks tired of waiting. Well, now?"
+
+"It's only one thing," Regina acknowledged, with her eyes on the ground
+again. "Perhaps, when you go to London, you may see the--"
+
+"The girl?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"It's not likely. Say I do see her--what then?"
+
+Regina's colour began to show itself again. "If you do see her," she
+said, "I beg and entreat you won't speak of _me_ in her hearing. I
+should die of the shame of it, if she thought herself asked to give him
+up out of pity for me. Promise I am not to be brought forward; promise
+you won't even mention my having spoken to you about it. On your word of
+honour!"
+
+Rufus gave her his promise, without showing any hesitation, or making
+any remark. But when she shook hands with him, on returning to the
+carriage, he held her hand for a moment. "Please to excuse me, Miss, if
+I ask one question," he said, in tones too low to be heard by any other
+person. "Are you really fond of Amelius?"
+
+"I am surprised you should doubt it," she answered; "I am more--much
+more than fond of him!"
+
+Rufus handed her silently into the carriage, "Fond of him, are you?" he
+thought, as he walked away by himself. "I reckon it's a sort of fondness
+that don't wear well, and won't stand washing."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 8
+
+Early the next morning, Rufus rang at the cottage gate.
+
+"Well, Mr. Frenchman, and how do _you_ git along? And how's Amelius?"
+
+Toff, standing before the gate, answered with the utmost respect, but
+showed no inclination to let the visitor in.
+
+"Amelius has his intervals of laziness," Rufus proceeded; "I bet he's in
+bed!"
+
+"My young master was up and dressed an hour ago, sir--he has just gone
+out."
+
+"That is so, is it? Well, I'll wait till he comes back." He pushed by
+Toff, and walked into the cottage. "Your foreign ceremonies are clean
+thrown away on me," he said, as Toff tried to stop him in the hall. "I'm
+the American savage; and I'm used up with travelling all night. Here's
+a little order for you: whisky, bitters, lemon, and ice--I'll take a
+cocktail in the library."
+
+Toff made a last desperate effort to get between the visitor and
+the door. "I beg your pardon, sir, a thousand times; I must most
+respectfully entreat you to wait--"
+
+Before he could explain himself, Rufus, with the most perfect good
+humour, pulled the old man out of his way. "What's troubling this
+venerable creature's mind--" he inquired of himself, "does he think I
+don't know my way in?"
+
+He opened the library door--and found himself face to face with Sally.
+She had risen from her chair, hearing voices outside, and hesitating
+whether to leave the room or not. They confronted each other, on either
+side of the table, in silent dismay. For once Rufus was so completely
+bewildered, that he took refuge in his customary form of greeting before
+he was aware of it himself.
+
+"How do you find yourself, Miss? I take pleasure in renewing our
+acquaintance,--Thunder! that's not it; I reckon I'm off my head. Do me
+the favour, young woman, to forget every word I've said to you. If any
+mortal creature had told me I should find you here, I should have said
+'twas a lie--and I should have been the liar. That makes a man feel
+bad, I can tell you. No! don't slide off, if you please, into the next
+room--_that_ won't set things right, nohow. Sit you down again. Now I'm
+here, I have something to say. I'll speak first to Mr. Frenchman. Listen
+to this, old sir. If I happen to want a witness standing in the doorway,
+I'll ring the bell; for the present I can do without you. Bong Shewer,
+as we say in your country." He proceeded to shut the door on Toff and
+his remonstrances.
+
+"I protest, sir, against acts of violence, unworthy of a gentleman!"
+cried Toff, struggling to get back again.
+
+"Be as angry as you please in the kitchen," Rufus answered, persisting
+in closing the door; "I won't have a noise up here. If you know where
+your master is, go and fetch him--and the sooner the better." He turned
+back to Sally, and surveyed her for a while in terrible silence. She
+was afraid to look at him; her eyes were on the book which she had been
+reading when he came in. "You look to me," Rufus remarked, "as if you
+had been settled here for a time. Never mind your book now; you can go
+back to your reading after we've had a word or two together first." He
+reached out his long arm, and pulled the book to his own side of the
+table. Sally innocently silenced him for the second time. He opened the
+book, and discovered--the New Testament.
+
+"It's my lesson, if you please, sir. I'm to learn it where the pencil
+mark is, before Amelius comes back." She offered her poor little
+explanation, trembling with terror. In spite of himself, Rufus began to
+look at her less sternly.
+
+"So you call him 'Amelius', do you?" he said. "I note that, Miss, as an
+unfavourable sign to begin with. How long, if you please, has Amelius
+turned schoolmarm, for your young ladyship's benefit? Don't you
+understand? Well, you're not the only inhabitant of Great Britain who
+don't understand the English language. I'll put it plainer. When I last
+saw Amelius, you were learning your lessons at the Home. What ill wind,
+Miss, blew you in here? Did Amelius fetch you, or did you come of your
+own accord, without waiting to be whistled for?" He spoke coarsely but
+not ill-humouredly. Sally's pretty downcast face was pleading with him
+for mercy, and (as he felt, with supreme contempt for himself) was not
+altogether pleading in vain. "If I guessed that you ran away from the
+home," he resumed, "should I guess right?"
+
+She answered with a sudden accession of confidence. "Don't blame
+Amelius," she said; "I did run away. I couldn't live without him."
+
+"You don't know how you can live, young one, till you've tried the
+experiment. Well, and what did they do at the Home? Did they send after
+you, to fetch you back?"
+
+"They wouldn't take me back--they sent my clothes here after me."
+
+"Ah, those were the rules, I reckon. I begin to see my way to the end of
+it now. Amelius gave you house-room?"
+
+She looked at him proudly. "He gave me a room of my own," she said.
+
+His next question was the exact repetition of the question which he
+had put to Regina in Paris. The only variety was in the answer that he
+received.
+
+"Are you fond of Amelius?"
+
+"I would die for him!"
+
+Rufus had hitherto spoken, standing. He now took a chair.
+
+"If Amelius had not been brought up at Tadmor," he said, "I should take
+my hat, and wish you good morning. As things are, a word more may be a
+word in season. Your lessons here seem to have agreed with you, Miss.
+You're a different sort of girl to what you were when I last saw you."
+
+She surprised him by receiving that remark in silence. The colour left
+her face. She sighed bitterly. The sigh puzzled Rufus: he held his
+opinion of her in suspense, until he had heard more.
+
+"You said just now you would die for Amelius," he went on, eyeing her
+attentively. "I take that to be a woman's hysterical way of mentioning
+that she feels interest in Amelius. Are you fond enough of him to leave
+him, if you could only be persuaded that leaving him was for his good?"
+
+She abruptly left the table, and went to the window. When her back was
+turned to Rufus, she spoke. "Am I a disgrace to him?" she asked, in
+tones so faint that he could barely hear them. "I have had my fears of
+it, before now."
+
+If he had been less fond of Amelius, his natural kindness of heart might
+have kept him silent. Even as it was, he made no direct reply. "You
+remember how you were living when Amelius first met with you?" was all
+he said.
+
+The sad blue eyes looked at him in patient sorrow; the low sweet voice
+answered--"Yes." Only a look and a word--only the influence of an
+instant--and, in that instant, Rufus's last doubts of her vanished!
+
+"Don't think I say it reproachfully, my child! I know it was not your
+fault; I know you are to be pitied, and not blamed."
+
+She turned her face towards him--pale, quiet, and resigned. "Pitied, and
+not blamed," she repeated. "Am I to be forgiven?"
+
+He shrank from answering her. There was silence.
+
+"You said just now," she went on, "that I looked like a different girl,
+since you last saw me. I _am_ a different girl. I think of things that
+I never thought of before--some change, I don't know what, has come over
+me. Oh, my heart does hunger so to be good! I do so long to deserve what
+Amelius has done for me! You have got my book there--Amelius gave it
+to me; we read in it every day. If Christ had been on earth now, is it
+wrong to think that Christ would have forgiven me?"
+
+"No, my dear; it's right to think so."
+
+"And, while I live, if I do my best to lead a good life, and if my last
+prayer to God is to take me to heaven, shall I be heard?"
+
+"You will be heard, my child, I don't doubt it. But, you see, you have
+got the world about you to reckon with--and the world has invented
+a religion of its own. There's no use looking for it in this book of
+yours. It's a religion with the pride of property at the bottom of it,
+and a veneer of benevolent sentiment at the top. It will be very
+sorry for you, and very charitable towards you: in short, it will do
+everything for you except taking you back again."
+
+She had her answer to that. "Amelius has taken me back again," she said.
+
+"Amelius has taken you back again," Rufus agreed. "But there's one thing
+he's forgotten to do; he has forgotten to count the cost. It seems to
+be left to me to do that. Look here, my girl! I own I doubted you when I
+first came into this room; and I'm sorry for it, and I beg your pardon.
+I do believe you're a good girl--I couldn't say why if I was asked, but
+I do believe it for all that. I wish there was no more to be said--but
+there is more; and neither you nor I must shirk it. Public opinion won't
+deal as tenderly with you as I do; public opinion will make the worst
+of you, and the worst of Amelius. While you're living here with
+him--there's no disguising it--you're innocently in the way of the boy's
+prospects in life. I don't know whether you understand me?"
+
+She had turned away from him; she was looking out of the window once
+more.
+
+"I understand you," she answered. "On the night when Amelius met with
+me, he did wrong to take me away with him. He ought to have left me
+where I was."
+
+"Wait a bit! that's as far from my meaning as far can be. There's a
+look-out for everybody; and, if you'll trust me, I'll find a look-out
+for _you."_
+
+She paid no heed to what he said: her next words showed that she was
+pursuing her own train of thought.
+
+"I am in the way of his prospects in life," she resumed. "You mean that
+he might be married some day, but for me?"
+
+Rufus admitted it cautiously. "The thing might happen," was all he said.
+
+"And his friends might come and see him," she went on; her face still
+turned away, and her voice sinking into dull subdued tones. "Nobody
+comes here now. You see I understand you. When shall I go away? I had
+better not say good-bye, I suppose?--it would only distress him. I could
+slip out of the house, couldn't I?"
+
+Rufus began to feel uneasy. He was prepared for tears--but not for such
+resignation as this. After a little hesitation, he joined her at the
+window. She never turned towards him; she still looked out straight
+before her; her bright young face had turned pitiably rigid and pale. He
+spoke to her very gently; advising her to think of what he had said, and
+to do nothing in a hurry. She knew the hotel at which he stayed when he
+was in London; and she could write to him there. If she decided to begin
+a new life in another country, he was wholly and truly at her service.
+He would provide a passage for her in the same ship that took him back
+to America. At his age, and known as he was in his own neighbourhood,
+there would be no scandal to fear. He could get her reputably and
+profitably employed, in work which a young girl might undertake. "I'll
+be as good as a father to you, my poor child," he said, "don't think
+you're going to be friendless, if you leave Amelius. I'll see to that!
+You shall have honest people about you--and innocent pleasure in your
+new life."
+
+She thanked him, still with the same dull tearless resignation. "What
+will the honest people say," she asked, "when they know who I am?"
+
+"They have no business to know who you are--and they shan't know it."
+
+"Ah! it comes back to the same thing," she said. "You must deceive the
+honest people, or you can do nothing for me. Amelius had better have
+left me where I was! I disgraced nobody, I was a burden to nobody,
+_there._ Cold and hunger and ill-treatment can sometimes be merciful
+friends, in their way. If I had been left to them, they would have laid
+me at rest by this time." She turned to Rufus, before he could speak to
+her. "I'm not ungrateful, sir; I'll think of it, as you say; and I'll
+do all that a poor foolish creature can do, to be worthy of the interest
+you take in me." She lifted her hand to her head, with a momentary
+expression of pain. "I've got a dull kind of aching here," she said; "it
+reminds me of my old life, when I was sometimes beaten on the head. May
+I go and lie down a little, by myself?"
+
+Rufus took her hand, and pressed it in silence. She looked back at him
+as she opened the door of her room. "Don't distress Amelius," she said;
+"I can bear anything but that."
+
+Left alone in the library, Rufus walked restlessly to and fro, driven by
+a troubled mind. "I was bound to do it," he thought; "and I ought to
+be satisfied with myself. I'm not satisfied. The world is hard on
+women--and the rights of property is a darned bad reason for it!"
+
+The door from the hall was suddenly thrown open. Amelius entered the
+room. He looked flushed and angry--he refused to take the hand that
+Rufus offered to him.
+
+"What's this I hear from Toff? It seems that you forced your way in when
+Sally was here. There are limits to the liberties that a man may take in
+his friend's house."
+
+"That's true," said Rufus quietly. "But when a man hasn't taken
+liberties, there don't seem much to be said. Sally was at the Home, when
+I last saw you--and nobody told me I should find her in this room."
+
+"You might have left the room, when you found her here. You have been
+talking to her. If you have said anything about Regina--"
+
+"I have said nothing about Miss Regina. You have a hot temper of your
+own, Amelius. Wait a bit, and let it cool."
+
+"Never mind my temper. I want to know what you have been saying to
+Sally. Stop! I'll ask Sally herself." He crossed the room to the inner
+door, and knocked. "Come in here, my dear; I want to speak to you."
+
+The answer reached him faintly through the door. "I have got a bad
+headache, Amelius. Please let me rest a little." He turned back to
+Rufus, and lowered his voice. But his eyes flashed; he was more angry
+than ever.
+
+"You had better go," he said. "I can guess how you have been talking to
+her--I know what her headache means. Any man who distresses that dear
+little affectionate creature is a man whom I hold as my enemy. I spit
+upon all the worldly considerations which pass muster with people like
+you! No sweeter girl than poor Sally ever breathed the breath of life.
+Her happiness is more precious to me than words can say. She is sacred
+to me! And I have just proved it--I have just come from a good woman,
+who will teach her an honest way of earning her bread. Not a breath of
+scandal shall blow on her. If you, or any people like you, think I will
+consent to cast her adrift on the world, or consign her to a prison
+under the name of a Home, you little know my nature and my principles.
+Here"--he snatched up the New Testament from the table, and shook it at
+Rufus--"here are my principles, and I'm not ashamed of them!"
+
+Rufus took up his hat.
+
+"There's one thing you'll be ashamed of, my son, when you're cool enough
+to think about it," he said; "you'll be ashamed of the words you have
+spoken to a friend who loves you. I'm not a bit angry myself. You remind
+me of that time on board the steamer, when the quarter-master was going
+to shoot the bird. You made it up with him--and you'll come to my hotel
+and make it up with me. And then we'll shake hands, and talk about
+Sally. If it's not taking another liberty, I'll trouble you for a
+light." He helped himself to a match from the box on the chimney-piece,
+lit his cigar, and left the room.
+
+He had not been gone half an hour, before the better nature of Amelius
+urged him to follow Rufus and make his apologies. But he was too anxious
+about Sally to leave the cottage, until he had seen her first. The tone
+in which she had answered him, when he knocked at her door, suggested,
+to his sensitive apprehension, that there was something more serious
+the matter with her than a mere headache. For another hour, he waited
+patiently, on the chance that he might hear her moving in her room.
+Nothing happened. No sound reached his ears, except the occasional
+rolling of carriage-wheels on the road outside.
+
+His patience began to fail him, as the second hour moved on. He went to
+the door, and listened, and still heard nothing. A sudden dread struck
+him that she might have fainted. He opened the door a few inches, and
+spoke to her. There was no answer. He looked in. The room was empty.
+
+He ran into the hall, and called to Toff. Was she, by any chance,
+downstairs? No. Or out in the garden? No. Master and man looked at each
+other in silence. Sally was gone.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 9
+
+Toff was the first who recovered himself.
+
+"Courage, sir!" he said. "With a little thinking, we shall see the way
+to find her. That rude American man, who talked with her this morning,
+may be the person who has brought this misfortune on us."
+
+Amelius waited to hear no more. There was the chance, at least, that
+something might have been said which had induced her to take refuge with
+Rufus. He ran back to the library to get his hat.
+
+Toff followed his master, with another suggestion. "One word more, sir,
+before you go. If the American man cannot help us, we must be ready to
+try another way. Permit me to accompany you as far as my wife's shop. I
+propose that she shall come back here with me, and examine poor little
+Miss's bedroom. We will wait, of course, for your return, before
+anything is done. In the mean time, I entreat you not to despair. It
+is at least possible that the means of discovery may be found in the
+bedroom."
+
+They went out together, taking the first cab that passed them. Amelius
+proceeded alone to the hotel.
+
+Rufus was in his room. "What's gone wrong?" he asked, the moment Amelius
+opened the door. "Shake hands, my son, and smother up that little
+trouble between us in silence. Your face alarms me--it does! What of
+Sally?"
+
+Amelius started at the question. "Isn't she here?" he asked.
+
+Rufus drew back. The mere action said, No, before he answered in words.
+
+"Have you seen nothing of her? heard nothing of her?"
+
+"Nothing. Steady, now! Meet it like a man; and tell me what has
+happened."
+
+Amelius told him in two words. "Don't suppose I'm going to break out
+again as I did this morning," he went on; "I'm too wretched and too
+anxious to be angry. Only tell me, Rufus, have you said anything to
+her--?"
+
+Rufus held up his hand. "I see what you're driving at. It will be more
+to the purpose to tell you what she said to me. From first to last,
+Amelius, I spoke kindly to her, and I did her justice. Give me a minute
+to rummage my memory." After brief consideration, he carefully repeated
+the substance of what had passed between Sally and himself, during the
+latter part of the interview between them. "Have you looked about in
+her room?" he inquired, when he had done. "There might be a trifling
+something to help you, left behind her there."
+
+Amelius told him of Toff's suggestion. They returned together at once to
+the cottage. Madame Toff was waiting to begin the search.
+
+The first discovery was easily made. Sally had taken off one or two
+little trinkets--presents from Amelius, which she was in the habit of
+wearing--and had left them, wrapped up in paper, on the dressing-table.
+No such thing as a farewell letter was found near them. The examination
+of the wardrobe came next--and here a startling circumstance revealed
+itself. Every one of the dresses which Amelius had presented to her was
+hanging in its place. They were not many; and they had all, on previous
+occasions, been passed in review by Toff's wife. She was absolutely
+certain that the complete number of the dresses was there in the
+bedroom. Sally must have worn something, in place of her new clothes.
+What had she put on?
+
+Looking round the room, Amelius noticed in a corner the box in which he
+had placed the first new dress that he had purchased for Sally, on the
+morning after they had met. He tried to open the box: it was locked--and
+the key was not to be found. The ever-ready Toff fetched a skewer from
+the kitchen, and picked the lock in two minutes. On lifting the cover,
+the box proved to be empty.
+
+The one person present who understood what this meant was Amelius.
+
+He remembered that Sally had taken her old threadbare clothes away with
+her in the box, when the angry landlady had insisted on his leaving the
+house. "I want to look at them sometimes," the poor girl had said, "and
+think how much better off I am now." In those miserable rags she had
+fled from the cottage, after hearing the cruel truth. "He had
+better have left me where I was," she had said. "Cold and hunger and
+ill-treatment would have laid me at rest by this time." Amelius fell on
+his knees before the empty box, in helpless despair. The conclusion
+that now forced itself on his mind completely unmanned him. She had
+gone back, in the old dress, to die under the cold, the hunger, and the
+horror of the old life.
+
+Rufus took his hand, and spoke to him kindly. He rallied, and dashed
+the tears from his eyes, and rose to his feet. "I know where to look
+for her," was all he said; "and I must do it alone." He refused to enter
+into any explanation, or to be assisted by any companion. "This is my
+secret and hers," he answered, "Go back to your hotel, Rufus--and pray
+that I may not bring news which will make a wretched man of you for the
+rest of your life." With that he left them.
+
+In another hour he stood once more on the spot at which he and Sally had
+met.
+
+The wild bustle and uproar of the costermongers' night market no longer
+rioted round him: the street by daylight was in a state of dreary
+repose. Slowly pacing up and down, from one end to another, he waited
+with but one hope to sustain him--the hope that she might have taken
+refuge with the two women who had been her only friends in the dark days
+of her life. Ignorant of the place in which they lived, he had no choice
+but to wait for the appearance of one or other of them in the street.
+He was quiet and resolved. For the rest of the day, and for the whole
+of the night if need be, his mind was made up to keep steadfastly on the
+watch.
+
+When he could walk no longer, he obtained rest and refreshment in
+the cookshop which he remembered so well; sitting on a stool near the
+window, from which he could still command a view of the street. The
+gas-lamps were alight, and the long winter's night was beginning to set
+in, when he resumed his weary march from end to end of the pavement. As
+the darkness became complete, his patience was rewarded at last. Passing
+the door of a pawnbroker's shop, he met one of the women face to face,
+walking rapidly, with a little parcel under her arm.
+
+She recognized him with a cry of joyful surprise.
+
+"Oh, sir, how glad I am to see you, to be sure! You've come to look
+after Sally, haven't you? Yes, yes; she's safe in our poor place--but
+in such a dreadful state. Off her head! clean off her head! Talks of
+nothing but you. 'I'm in the way of his prospects in life.' Over and
+over and over again, she keeps on saying that. Don't be afraid; Jenny's
+at home, taking care of her. She wants to go out. Hot and wild, with a
+kind of fever on her, she wants to go out. She asked if it rained. 'The
+rain may kill me in these ragged clothes,' she says; 'and then I shan't
+be in the way of his prospects in life.' We tried to quiet her by
+telling her it didn't rain--but it was no use; she was as eager as ever
+to go out. 'I may get another blow on the bosom,' she says; 'and, maybe,
+it will fall on the right place this time.' No! there's no fear of the
+brute who used to beat her--he's in prison. Don't ask to see her just
+yet, sir; please don't! I'm afraid you would only make her worse, if I
+took you to her now; I wouldn't dare to risk it. You see, we can't get
+her to sleep; and we thought of buying something to quiet her at the
+chemist's. Yes, sir, it would be better to get a doctor to her. But I
+wasn't going to the doctor. If I must tell you, I was obliged to take
+the sheets off the bed, to raise a little money--I was going to the
+pawnbroker's." She looked at the parcel under her arm, and smiled. "I
+may take the sheets back again, now I've met with you; and there's a
+good doctor lives close by--I can show you the way to him. Oh how pale
+you do look! Are you very much tired? It's only a little way to the
+doctor. I've got an arm at your service--but you mightn't like to be
+seen waiting with such a person as me."
+
+Mentally and physically, Amelius was completely prostrated. The woman's
+melancholy narrative had overwhelmed him: he could neither speak nor
+act. He mechanically put his purse in her hand, and went with her to the
+house of the nearest medical man.
+
+The doctor was at home, mixing drugs in his little surgery. After one
+sharp look at Amelius, he ran into a back parlour, and returned with a
+glass of spirits. "Drink this, sir," he said--"unless you want to find
+yourself on the floor in a fainting fit. And don't presume again on your
+youth and strength to treat your heart as if it was made of cast-iron."
+He signed to Amelius to sit down and rest himself, and turned to the
+woman to hear what was wanted of him. After a few questions, he said she
+might go; promising to follow her in a few minutes, when the gentleman
+would be sufficiently recovered to accompany him.
+
+"Well, sir, are you beginning to feel like yourself again?" He was
+mixing a composing draught, while he addressed Amelius in those terms.
+"You may trust that poor wretch, who has just left us, to take care of
+the sick girl," he went on, in the quaintly familiar manner which seemed
+to be habitual with him. "I don't ask how you got into her company--it's
+no business of mine. But I am pretty well acquainted with the people in
+my neighbourhood; and I can tell you one thing, in case you're anxious.
+The woman who brought you here, barring the one misfortune of her life,
+is as good a creature as ever breathed; and the other one who lives with
+her is the same. When I think of what they're exposed to--well! I take
+to my pipe, and compose my mind in that way. My early days were all
+passed as a ship's surgeon. I could get them both respectable employment
+in Australia, if I only had the money to fit them out. They'll die in
+the hospital, like the rest, if something isn't done for them. In my
+hopeful moments, I sometimes think of a subscription. What do you say?
+Will you put down a few shillings to set the example?"
+
+"I will do more than that," Amelius answered. "I have reasons for
+wishing to befriend both those two poor women; and I will gladly engage
+to find the outfit."
+
+The familiar old doctor held out his hand over the counter. "You're
+a good fellow, if ever there was one yet!" he burst out. "I can show
+references which will satisfy you that I am not a rogue. In the mean
+time, let's see what is the matter with this little girl; you can tell
+me about her as we go along." He put his bottle of medicine in his
+pocket, and his arm in the arm of Amelius--and so led the way out.
+
+When they reached the wretched lodging-house in which the women lived,
+he suggested that his companion would do well to wait at the door. "I'm
+used to sad sights: it would only distress you to see the place. I won't
+keep you long waiting."
+
+He was as good as his word. In little more than ten minutes, he joined
+Amelius again in the street.
+
+"Don't alarm yourself," he said. "The case is not so serious as it
+looks. The poor child is suffering under a severe shock to the brain and
+nervous system, caused by that sudden and violent distress you hinted
+at. My medicine will give her the one thing she wants to begin with--a
+good night's sleep."
+
+Amelius asked when she would be well enough to see him.
+
+"Ah, my young friend, it's not so easy to say, just yet! I could answer
+you to better purpose tomorrow. Won't that do? Must I venture on a rash
+opinion? She ought to be composed enough to see you in three or four
+days. And, when that time comes, it's my belief you will do more than I
+can do to set her right again."
+
+Amelius was relieved, but not quite satisfied yet. He inquired if it was
+not possible to remove her from that miserable place.
+
+"Quite impossible--without doing her serious injury. They have got money
+to go on with; and I have told you already, she will be well taken care
+of. I will look after her myself tomorrow morning. Go home, and get to
+bed, and eat a bit of supper first, and make your mind easy. Come to
+my house at twelve o'clock, noon, and you will find me ready with my
+references, and my report of the patient. Surgeon Pinfold, Blackacre
+Buildings; there's the address. Good night."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 10
+
+After Amelius had left him, Rufus remembered his promise to communicate
+with Regina by telegraph.
+
+With his strict regard for truth, it was no easy matter to decide on
+what message he should send. To inspire Regina, if possible, with
+his own unshaken belief in the good faith of Amelius, appeared,
+on reflection, to be all that he could honestly do, under present
+circumstances. With an anxious and foreboding mind, he despatched his
+telegram to Paris in these terms:--"Be patient for a while, and do
+justice to A. He deserves it."
+
+Having completed his business at the telegraph-office, Rufus went next
+to pay his visit to Mrs. Payson.
+
+The good lady received him with a grave face and a distant manner, in
+startling contrast to the customary warmth of her welcome. "I used to
+think you were a man in a thousand," she began abruptly; "and I find
+you are no better than the rest of them. If you have come to speak to me
+about that blackguard young Socialist, understand, if you please, that
+I am not so easily imposed upon as Miss Regina. I have done my duty;
+I have opened her eyes to the truth, poor thing. Ah, you ought to be
+ashamed of yourself."
+
+Rufus kept his temper, with his habitual self-command. "It's possible
+you may be right," he said quietly; "but the biggest rascal living has
+a claim to an explanation, when a lady puzzles him. Have you any
+particular objection, old friend, to tell me what you mean?"
+
+The explanation was not of a nature to set his mind at ease.
+
+Regina had written, by the mail which took Rufus to England, repeating
+to Mrs. Payson what had passed at the interview in the Champs Elysees,
+and appealing to her sympathy for information and advice. Receiving
+the letter that morning, Mrs. Payson, acting on her own generous and
+compassionate impulses, had already answered it, and sent it to the
+post. Her experience of the unfortunate persons received at the Home was
+far from inclining her to believe in the innocence of a runaway girl,
+placed under circumstances of temptation. As an act of justice towards
+Regina, she enclosed to her the letter in which Amelius had acknowledged
+that Sally had passed the night under his roof.
+
+"I believe I am only telling you the shameful truth," Mrs. Payson
+had written, "when I add that the girl has been an inmate of Mr.
+Goldenheart's cottage ever since. If you can reconcile this disgraceful
+state of things, with Mr. Rufus Dingwell's assertion of his friend's
+fidelity to his marriage-engagement, I have no right, and no wish,
+to make any attempt to alter your opinion. But you have asked for my
+advice, and I must not shrink from giving it. I am bound as an honest
+woman, to tell you that your uncle's resolution to break off the
+engagement represents the course that I should have taken myself, if
+a daughter of my own had been placed in your painful and humiliating
+position."
+
+There was still ample time to modify this strong expression of opinion
+by the day's post. Rufus appealed vainly to Mrs. Payson to reconsider
+the conclusion at which she had arrived. A more charitable and
+considerate woman, within the limits of her own daily routine, it would
+not be possible to find. But the largeness of mind which, having long
+and trustworthy experience of a rule, can nevertheless understand that
+other minds may have equal experience of the exception to the rule,
+was one of the qualities which had not been included in the moral
+composition of Mrs. Payson. She held firmly to her own narrowly
+conscientious sense of her duty; stimulated by a natural indignation
+against Amelius, who had bitterly disappointed her--against Rufus, who
+had not scrupled to take up his defence. The two old friends parted in
+coldness, for the first time in their lives.
+
+Rufus returned to his hotel, to wait there for news from Amelius.
+
+The day passed--and the one visitor who enlivened his solitude was
+an American friend and correspondent, connected with the agency which
+managed his affairs in England. The errand of this gentleman was to give
+his client the soundest and speediest advice, relating to the investment
+of money. Having indicated the safe and solid speculation, the
+visitor added a warning word, relating to the plausible and dangerous
+investments of the day. "For instance," he said, "there's that bank
+started by Farnaby--"
+
+"No need to warn me against Farnaby," Rufus interposed; "I wouldn't take
+shares in his bank if he made me a present of them."
+
+The American friend looked surprised. "Surely," he exclaimed, "you can't
+have heard the news already! They don't even know it yet on the Stock
+Exchange."
+
+Rufus explained that he had only spoken under the influence of personal
+prejudice against Mr. Farnaby.
+
+"What's in the wind now?" he asked.
+
+He was confidentially informed that a coming storm was in the wind: in
+other words, that a serious discovery had been made at the bank. Some
+time since, the directors had advanced a large sum of money to a man
+in trade, under Mr. Farnaby's own guarantee. The man had just died;
+and examination of his affairs showed that he had only received a few
+hundred pounds, on condition of holding his tongue. The bulk of the
+money had been traced to Mr. Farnaby himself, and had all been
+swallowed up by his newspaper, his patent medicine, and his other rotten
+speculations, apart from his own proper business. "You may not know it,"
+the American friend concluded, "but the fact is, Farnaby rose from the
+dregs. His bankruptcy is only a question of time--he will drop back to
+the dregs; and, quite possibly, make his appearance to answer a criminal
+charge in a court of law. I hear that Melton, whose credit has held up
+the bank lately, is off to see his friend in Paris. They say Farnaby's
+niece is a handsome girl, and Melton is sweet on her. Awkward for
+Melton."
+
+Rufus listened attentively. In signing the order for his investments, he
+privately decided to stir no further, for the present, in the matter of
+his young friend's marriage-engagement.
+
+For the rest of the day and evening, he still waited for Amelius, and
+waited in vain. It was drawing near to midnight, when Toff made his
+appearance with a message from his master. Amelius had discovered Sally,
+and had returned in such a state of fatigue that he was only fit to
+take some refreshment, and to go to his bed. He would be away from home
+again, on the next morning; but he hoped to call at the hotel in the
+course of the day. Observing Toff's face with grave and steady scrutiny,
+Rufus tried to extract some further information from him. But the old
+Frenchman stood on his dignity, in a state of immovable reserve.
+
+"You took me by the shoulder this morning, sir, and spun me round," he
+said; "I do not desire to be treated a second time like a teetotum.
+For the rest, it is not my habit to intrude myself into my master's
+secrets."
+
+"It's not _my_ habit," Rufus coolly rejoined, "to bear malice. I beg to
+apologise sincerely, sir, for treating you like a teetotum; and I offer
+you my hand."
+
+Toff had got as far as the door. He instantly returned, with the dignity
+which a Frenchman can always command in the serious emergencies of his
+life. "You appeal to my heart and my honour, sir," he said. "I bury the
+events of the morning in oblivion; and I do myself the honour of taking
+your hand."
+
+As the door closed on him, Rufus smiled grimly. "You're not in the habit
+of intruding yourself into your master's secrets," he repeated. "If
+Amelius reads your face as I read it, he'll look over his shoulder when
+he goes out tomorrow--and, ten to one, he'll see you behind him in the
+distance!"
+
+Late on the next day, Amelius presented himself at the hotel. In
+speaking of Sally, he was unusually reserved, merely saying that she was
+ill, and under medical care, and then changing the subject. Struck by
+the depressed and anxious expression of his face, Rufus asked if he had
+heard from Regina. No: a longer time than usual had passed since Regina
+had written to him. "I don't understand it," he said sadly. "I suppose
+you didn't see anything of her in Paris?"
+
+Rufus had kept his promise not to mention Regina's name in Sally's
+presence. But it was impossible for him to look at Amelius, without
+plainly answering the question put to him, for the sake of the friend
+whom he loved. "I'm afraid there's trouble coming to you, my son, from
+that quarter." With those warning words, he described all that had
+passed between Regina and himself. "Some unknown enemy of yours has
+spoken against you to her uncle," he concluded. "I suppose you have made
+enemies, my poor old boy, since you have been in London?"
+
+"I know the man," Amelius answered. "He wanted to marry Regina before I
+met with her. His name is Melton."
+
+Rufus started. "I heard only yesterday, he was in Paris with Farnaby.
+And that's not the worst of it, Amelius. There's another of them making
+mischief--a good friend of mine who has shown a twist in her temper,
+that has taken me by surprise after twenty years' experience of her.
+I reckon there's a drop of malice in the composition of the best woman
+that ever lived--and the men only discover it when another woman steps
+in, and stirs it up. Wait a bit!" he went on, when he had related the
+result of his visit to Mrs. Payson. "I have telegraphed to Miss Regina
+to be patient, and to trust you. Don't you write to defend yourself,
+till you hear how you stand in her estimation, after my message.
+Tomorrow's post may tell."
+
+Tomorrow's post did tell.
+
+Two letters reached Amelius from Paris. One from Mr. Farnaby, curt and
+insolent, breaking off the marriage-engagement. The other, from Regina,
+expressed with great severity of language. Her weak nature, like all
+weak natures, ran easily into extremes, and, once roused into asserting
+itself, took refuge in violence as a shy person takes refuge in
+audacity. Only a woman of larger and firmer mind would have written of
+her wrongs in a more just and more moderate tone.
+
+Regina began without any preliminary form of address. She had no heart
+to upbraid Amelius, and no wish to speak of what she was suffering, to
+a man who had but too plainly shown that he had no respect for himself,
+and neither love, nor pity even, for her. In justice to herself,
+she released him from his promise, and returned his letters and his
+presents. Her own letters might be sent in a sealed packet, addressed to
+her at her uncle's place of business in London. She would pray that he
+might be brought to a sense of the sin that he had committed, and that
+he might yet live to be a worthy and a happy man. For the rest, her
+decision was irrevocable. His own letter to Mrs. Payson condemned
+him--and the testimony of an old and honoured friend of her uncle proved
+that his wickedness was no mere act of impulse, but a deliberate course
+of infamy and falsehood, continued over many weeks. From the moment when
+she made that discovery, he was a stranger to her--and she now bade him
+farewell.
+
+"Have you written to her?" Rufus asked, when he had seen the letters.
+
+Amelius reddened with indignation. He was not aware of it himself--but
+his look and manner plainly revealed that Regina had lost her last hold
+on him. Her letter had inflicted an insult--not a wound: he was outraged
+and revolted; the deeper and gentler feelings, the emotions of a grieved
+and humiliated lover, had been killed in him by her stern words of
+dismissal and farewell.
+
+"Do you think I would allow myself to be treated in that way, without
+a word of protest?" he said to Rufus. "I have written, refusing to take
+back my promise. 'I declare, on my word of honour, that I have been
+faithful to you and to my engagement'--that was how I put it--'and I
+scorn the vile construction which your uncle and his friend have placed
+upon an act of Christian mercy on my part.' I wrote more tenderly,
+before I finished my letter; feeling for her distress, and being anxious
+above all things not to add to it. We shall see if she has love enough
+left for me to trust my faith and honour, instead of trusting false
+appearances. I will give her time."
+
+Rufus considerately abstained from expressing any opinion. He waited
+until the morning when a reply might be expected from Paris; and then he
+called at the cottage.
+
+Without a word of comment, Amelius put a letter into his friend's hand.
+It was his own letter to Regina returned to him. On the back of it,
+there was a line in Mr. Farnaby's handwriting:--"If you send any more
+letters they will be burnt unopened." In those insolent terms the wretch
+wrote with bankruptcy and exposure hanging over his head.
+
+Rufus spoke plainly upon this. "There's an end of it now," he said.
+"That girl would never have made the right wife for you, Amelius: you're
+well out of it. Forget that you ever knew these people; and let us talk
+of something else. How is Sally?"
+
+At that ill-timed inquiry, Amelius showed his temper again. He was in a
+state of nervous irritability which made him apt to take offence, where
+no offence was intended. "Oh, you needn't be alarmed!" he answered
+petulantly; "there's no fear of the poor child coming back to live with
+me. She is still under the doctor's care."
+
+Rufus passed over the angry reply without notice, and patted him on the
+shoulder. "I spoke of the girl," he said, "because I wanted to help her;
+and I can help her, if you will let me. Before long, my son, I shall be
+going back to the United States. I wish you would go with me!"
+
+"And desert Sally!" cried Amelius.
+
+"Nothing of the sort! Before we go, I'll see that Sally is provided for
+to your satisfaction. Will you think of it, to please me?"
+
+Amelius relented. "Anything, to please you," he said.
+
+Rufus noticed his hat and gloves on the table, and left him without
+saying more. "The trouble with Amelius," he thought, as he closed the
+cottage gate, "is not over yet."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 11
+
+The day on which worthy old Surgeon Pinfold had predicted that Sally
+would be in a fair way of recovery had come and gone; and still the
+medical report to Amelius was the same:--"You must be patient, sir; she
+is not well enough to see you yet."
+
+Toff, watching his young master anxiously, was alarmed by the steadily
+progressive change in him for the worse, which showed itself at this
+time. Now sad and silent, and now again bitter and irritable, he had
+deteriorated physically as well as morally, until he really looked
+like the shadow of his former self. He never exchanged a word with his
+faithful old servant, except when he said mechanically, "good morning"
+or "good night." Toff could endure it no longer. At the risk of being
+roughly misinterpreted, he followed his own kindly impulse, and spoke.
+"May I own to you, sir," he said, with perfect gentleness and respect,
+"that I am indeed heartily sorry to see you so ill?"
+
+Amelius looked up at him sharply. "You servants always make a fuss about
+trifles. I am a little out of sorts; and I want a change--that's all.
+Perhaps I may go to America. You won't like that; I shan't complain if
+you look out for another situation."
+
+The tears came into the old man's eyes. "Never!" he answered fervently.
+"My last service, sir, if you send me away, shall be my dearly loved
+service here."
+
+All that was most tender in the nature of Amelius was touched to the
+quick. "Forgive me, Toff," he said; "I am lonely and wretched, and more
+anxious about Sally than words can tell. There can be no change in my
+life, until my mind is easy about that poor little girl. But if it does
+end in my going to America, you shall go with me--I wouldn't lose you,
+my good friend, for the world."
+
+Toff still remained in the room, as if he had something left to say.
+Entirely ignorant of the marriage engagement between Amelius and
+Regina, and of the rupture in which it had ended, he vaguely suspected
+nevertheless that his master might have fallen into an entanglement
+with some lady unknown. The opportunity of putting the question was now
+before him. He risked it in a studiously modest form.
+
+"Are you going to America to be married, sir?"
+
+Amelius eyed him with a momentary suspicion. "What has put that in your
+head?" he asked.
+
+"I don't know, sir," Toff answered humbly--"unless it was my own vivid
+imagination. Would there be anything very wonderful in a gentleman of
+your age and appearance conducting some charming person to the altar?"
+
+Amelius was conquered once more; he smiled faintly. "Enough of your
+nonsense, Toff! I shall never be married--understand that."
+
+Toff's withered old face brightened slyly. He turned away to withdraw;
+hesitated; and suddenly went back to his master.
+
+"Have you any occasion for my services, sir, for an hour or two?" he
+asked.
+
+"No. Be back before I go out, myself--be back at three o'clock."
+
+"Thank you, sir. My little boy is below, if you want anything in my
+absence."
+
+The little boy dutifully attending Toff to the gate, observed with grave
+surprise that his father snapped his fingers gaily at starting, and
+hummed the first bars of the Marseillaise. "Something is going to
+happen," said Toff's boy, on his way back to the house.
+
+
+From the Regent's Park to Blackacre Buildings is almost a journey from
+one end of London to the other. Assisted for part of the way by an
+omnibus, Toff made the journey, and arrived at the residence of Surgeon
+Pinfold, with the easy confidence of a man who knew thoroughly well
+where he was going, and what he was about. The sagacity of Rufus had
+correctly penetrated his intentions; he had privately followed his
+master, and had introduced himself to the notice of the surgeon--with a
+mixture of motives, in which pure devotion to the interests of Amelius
+played the chief part. His experience of the world told him that Sally's
+departure was only the beginning of more trouble to come. "What is the
+use of me to my master," he had argued, "except to spare him trouble, in
+spite of himself?"
+
+Surgeon Pinfold was prescribing for a row of sick people, seated before
+him on a bench. "You're not ill, are you?" he said sharply to Toff.
+"Very well, then, go into the parlour and wait."
+
+The patients being dismissed, Toff attempted to explain the object of
+his visit. But the old naval surgeon insisted on clearing the ground by
+means of a plain question first. "Has your master sent you here--or is
+this another private interview, like the last?"
+
+"It is all that is most private," Toff answered; "my poor master is
+wasting away in unrelieved wretchedness and suspense. Something must
+be done for him. Oh, dear and good sir, help me in this most miserable
+state of things! Tell me the truth about Miss Sally!"
+
+Old Pinfold put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the parlour
+wall, looking at the Frenchman with a complicated expression, in which
+genuine sympathy mingled oddly with a quaint sense of amusement. "You're
+a worthy chap," he said; "and you shall have the truth. I have been
+obliged to deceive your master about this troublesome young Sally;
+I have stuck to it that she is too ill to see him, or to answer his
+letters. Both lies. There's nothing the matter with her now, but a
+disease that I can't cure, the disease of a troubled mind. She's got
+it into her head that she has everlastingly degraded herself in
+his estimation by leaving him and coming here. It's no use telling
+her--what, mind you, is perfectly true--that she was all but out of her
+senses, and not in the least responsible for what she did at the time
+when she did it. She holds to her own opinion, nevertheless. 'What can
+he think of me, but that I have gone back willingly to the disgrace of
+my old life? I should throw myself out of the window, if he came into
+the room!' That's how she answers me--and, what makes matters worse
+still, she's breaking her heart about him all the time. The poor wretch
+is so eager for any little word of news about his health and his doings,
+that it's downright pitiable to see her. I don't think her fevered
+little brain will bear it much longer--and hang me if I can tell what to
+do next to set things right! The two women, her friends, have no sort
+of influence over her. When I saw her this morning, she was ungrateful
+enough to say, 'Why didn't you let me die?' How your master got among
+these unfortunate people is more than I know, and is no business of
+mine; I only wish he had been a different sort of man. Before I knew him
+as well as I know him now, I predicted, like a fool, that he would
+be just the person to help us in managing the girl. I have altered
+my opinion. He's such a glorious fellow--so impulsive and so
+tender-hearted--that he would be certain, in her present excited
+state, to do her more harm than good. Do you know if he is going to be
+married?"
+
+Toff, listening thus far in silent distress, suddenly looked up.
+
+"Why do you ask me, sir?"
+
+"It's an idle question, I dare say," old Pinfold remarked. "Sally
+persists in telling us she's in the way of his prospects in life--and
+it's got somehow into her perverse little head that his prospects in
+life mean his marriage, and she's in the way of _that._--Hullo! are you
+going already?"
+
+"I want to go to Miss Sally, sir. I believe I can say something to
+comfort her. Do you think she will see me?"
+
+"Are you the man who has got the nickname of Toff? She sometimes talks
+about Toff."
+
+"Yes, sir, yes! I am Theophile Leblond, otherwise Toff. Where can I find
+her?"
+
+Surgeon Pinfold rang a bell. "My errand-boy is going past the house, to
+deliver some medicine," he answered. "It's a poor place; but you'll find
+it neat and nice enough--thanks to your good master. He's helping the
+two women to begin life again out of this country; and, while they're
+waiting their turn to get a passage, they've taken an extra room and
+hired some decent furniture, by your master's own wish. Oh, here's the
+boy; he'll show you the way. One word before you go. What do you think
+of saying to Sally?"
+
+"I shall tell her, for one thing, sir, that my master is miserable for
+want of her."
+
+Surgeon Pinfold shook his head. "That won't take you very far on the way
+to persuading her. You will make _her_ miserable too--and there's about
+all you will get by it."
+
+Toff lifted his indicative forefinger to the side of his nose. "Suppose
+I tell her something else, sir? Suppose I tell her my master is not
+going to be married to anybody?"
+
+"She won't believe you know anything about it."
+
+"She will believe, for this reason," said Toff, gravely; "I put the
+question to my master before I came here; and I have it from his
+own lips that there is no young lady in the way, and that he is
+not--positively not--going to be married. If I tell Miss Sally this,
+sir, how do you say it will end? Will you bet me a shilling it has no
+effect on her?"
+
+"I won't bet a farthing! Follow the boy--and tell young Sally I have
+sent her a better doctor than I am."
+
+
+While Toff was on his way to Sally, Toff's boy was disturbing Amelius by
+the announcement of a visitor. The card sent in bore this inscription:
+"Brother Bawkwell, from Tadmor."
+
+Amelius looked at the card; and ran into the hall to receive the
+visitor, with both hands held out in hearty welcome. "Oh, I am so glad
+to see you!" he cried. "Come in, and tell me all about Tadmor!"
+
+Brother Bawkwell acknowledged the enthusiastic reception offered to him
+by a stare of grim surprise. He was a dry, hard old man, with a scrubby
+white beard, a narrow wrinkled forehead, and an obstinate lipless mouth;
+fitted neither by age nor temperament to be the intimate friend of any
+of his younger brethren among the Community. But, at that saddest time
+of his life, the heart of Amelius warmed to any one who reminded him of
+his tranquil and happy days at Tadmor. Even this frozen old Socialist
+now appeared to him, for the first time, under the borrowed aspect of a
+welcome friend.
+
+Brother Bawkwell took the chair offered to him, and opened the
+proceedings, in solemn silence, by looking at his watch. "Twenty-five
+minutes past two," he said to himself--and put the watch back again.
+
+"Are you pressed for time?" Amelius asked.
+
+"Much may be done in ten minutes," Brother Bawkwell answered, in a
+Scotch accent which had survived the test of half a lifetime in America.
+"I would have you know I am in England on a mission from the Community,
+with a list of twenty-seven persons in all, whom I am appointed to
+confer with on matters of varying importance. Yours, friend Amelius, is
+a matter of minor importance. I can give you ten minutes."
+
+He opened a big black pocket-book, stuffed with a mass of letters; and,
+placing two of them on the table before him, addressed Amelius as if he
+was making a speech at a public meeting.
+
+"I have to request your attention to certain proceedings of the Council
+at Tadmor, bearing date the third of December last; and referring to a
+person under sentence of temporary separation from the Community, along
+with yourself--"
+
+"Mellicent!" Amelius exclaimed.
+
+"We have no time for interruptions," Brother Bawkwell remarked. "The
+person _is_ Sister Mellicent; and the business before the Council was to
+consider a letter, under her signature, received December second. Said
+letter," he proceeded, taking up one of his papers, "is abridged as
+follows by the Secretary to the Council. In substance, the writer states
+(first): 'That the married sister under whose protection she has been
+living at New York is about to settle in England with her husband,
+appointed to manage the branch of his business established in London.
+(Second): That she, meaning Sister Mellicent, has serious reasons for
+not accompanying her relatives to England, and has no other friends to
+take charge of her welfare, if she remains in New York. (Third): That
+she appeals to the mercy of the Council, under these circumstances,
+to accept the expression of her sincere repentance for the offence of
+violating a Rule, and to permit a friendless and penitent creature to
+return to the only home left to her, her home at Tadmor.' No, friend
+Amelius--we have no time for expressions of sympathy; the first half of
+the ten minutes has nearly expired. I have further to notify you that
+the question was put to the vote, in this form: 'Is it consistent with
+the serious responsibility which rests on the Council, to consider the
+remission of any sentence justly pronounced under the Book of Rules?'
+The result was very remarkable; the votes for and against being equally
+divided. In this event, as you know, our laws provide that the
+decision rests with the Elder Brother--who gave his vote thereupon for
+considering the remission of the sentence; and moved the next resolution
+that the sentence be remitted accordingly. Carried by a small majority.
+Whereupon, Sister Mellicent was received again at Tadmor."
+
+"Ah, the dear old Elder Brother," cried Amelius--"always on the side of
+mercy!"
+
+Brother Bawkwell held up his hand in protest. "You seem to have no
+idea," he said, "of the value of time. Do be quiet! As travelling
+representative of the Council, I am further instructed to say, that
+the sentence pronounced against yourself stands duly remitted, in
+consequence of the remission of the sentence against Sister Mellicent.
+You likewise are free to return to Tadmor, at your own will and
+pleasure. But--attend to what is coming, friend Amelius!--the Council
+holds to its resolution that your choice between us and the world shall
+be absolutely unbiased. In the fear of exercising even an indirect
+influence, we have purposely abstained from corresponding with you. With
+the same motive we now say, that if you do return to us, it must be with
+no interference on our part. We inform you of an event that has happened
+in your absence--and we do no more."
+
+He paused, and looked again at his watch. Time proverbially works
+wonders. Time closed his lips.
+
+Amelius replied with a heavy heart. The message from the Council had
+recalled him from the remembrance of Mellicent to the sense of his own
+position. "My experience of the world has been a very hard one," he
+said. "I would gladly go back to Tadmor this very day, but for one
+consideration--" He hesitated; the image of Sally was before him. The
+tears rose in his eyes; he said no more.
+
+Brother Bawkwell, driven hard by time, got on his legs, and handed
+to Amelius the second of the two papers which he had taken out of his
+pocket-book.
+
+"Here is a purely informal document," he said; "being a few lines from
+Sister Mellicent, which I was charged to deliver to you. Be pleased to
+read it as quickly as you can, and tell me if there is any reply."
+
+There was not much to read:--"The good people here, Amelius, have
+forgiven me and let me return to them. I am living happily now, dear, in
+my remembrances of you. I take the walks that we once took together--and
+sometimes I go out in the boat on the lake, and think of the time when I
+told you my sad story. Your poor little pet creatures are under my care;
+the dog, and the fawn, and the birds--all well, and waiting for you,
+with me. My belief that you will come back to me remains the same
+unshaken belief that it has been from the first. Once more I say it--you
+will find me the first to welcome you, when your spirits are sinking
+under the burden of life, and your heart turns again to the friends
+of your early days. Until that time comes, think of me now and then.
+Good-bye."
+
+"I am waiting," said Brother Bawkwell, taking his hat in his hand.
+
+Amelius answered with an effort. "Thank her kindly in my name," he said:
+"that is all." His head drooped while he spoke; he fell into thought as
+if he had been alone in the room.
+
+But the emissary from Tadmor, warned by the minute-hand on the watch,
+recalled his attention to passing events. "You would do me a kindness,"
+said Brother Bawkwell, producing a list of names and addresses, "if you
+could put me in the way of finding the person named, eighth from the
+top. It's getting on towards twenty minutes to three."
+
+The address thus pointed out was at no great distance, on the northern
+side of the Regent's Park. Amelius, still silent and thoughtful, acted
+willingly as a guide. "Please thank the Council for their kindness to
+me," he said, when they reached their destination. Brother Bawkwell
+looked at friend Amelius with a calm inquiring eye. "I think you'll end
+in coming back to us," he said. "I'll take the opportunity, when I see
+you at Tadmor, of making a few needful remarks on the value of time."
+
+Amelius went back to the cottage, to see if Toff had returned, in his
+absence, before he paid his daily visit to Surgeon Pinfold. He called
+down the kitchen stairs, "Are you there, Toff?" And Toff answered
+briskly, "At your service, sir."
+
+The sky had become cloudy, and threatened rain. Not finding his umbrella
+in the hall, Amelius went into the library to look for it. As he closed
+the door behind him, Toff and his boy appeared on the kitchen stairs;
+both walking on tiptoe, and both evidently on the watch for something.
+
+Amelius found his umbrella. But it was characteristic of the melancholy
+change in him that he dropped languidly into the nearest chair, instead
+of going out at once with the easy activity of happier days. Sally was
+in his mind again; he was rousing his resolution to set the doctor's
+commands at defiance, and to insist on seeing her, come what might of
+it.
+
+He suddenly looked up. A slight sound had startled him.
+
+It was a faint rustling sound; and it came from the sadly silent room
+which had once been Sally's.
+
+He listened, and heard it again. He sprang to his feet--his heart beat
+wildly--he opened the door of the room.
+
+She was there.
+
+Her hands were clasped over her fast-heaving breast. She was powerless
+to look at him, powerless to speak to him--powerless to move towards
+him, until he opened his arms to her. Then, all the love and all
+the sorrow in the tender little heart flowed outward to him in a low
+murmuring cry. She hid her blushing face on his bosom. The rosy colour
+softly tinged her neck--the unspoken confession of all she feared, and
+all she hoped.
+
+It was a time beyond words. They were silent in each other's arms.
+
+But under them, on the floor below, the stillness in the cottage
+was merrily broken by an outburst of dance-music--with a rhythmical
+thump-thump of feet, keeping time to the cheerful tune. Toff was playing
+his fiddle; and Toff's boy was dancing to his father's music.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 12
+
+After waiting a day or two for news from Amelius, and hearing nothing,
+Rufus went to make inquiries at the cottage.
+
+"My master has gone out of town, sir," said Toff, opening the door.
+
+"Where?"
+
+"I don't know, sir."
+
+"Anybody with him?"
+
+"I don't know, sir."
+
+"Any news of Sally?"
+
+"I don't know, sir."
+
+Rufus stepped into the hall. "Look here, Mr. Frenchman, three times is
+enough. I have already apologized for treating you like a teetotum, on a
+former occasion. I'm afraid I shall do it again, sir, if I don't get an
+answer to my next question--my hands are itching to be at you, they are!
+When is Amelius expected back?"
+
+"Your question is positive, sir," said Toff, with dignity. "I am happy
+to be able to meet it with a positive reply. My master is expected back
+in three weeks' time."
+
+Having obtained some information at last, Rufus debated with himself
+what he should do next. He decided that "the boy was worth waiting for,"
+and that his wisest course (as a good American) would be to go back, and
+wait in Paris.
+
+Passing through the Garden of the Tuileries, two or three days later,
+and crossing to the Rue de Rivoli, the name of one of the hotels in
+that quarter reminded him of Regina. He yielded to the prompting of
+curiosity, and inquired if Mr. Farnaby and his niece were still in
+Paris.
+
+The manager of the hotel was in the porter's lodge at the time. So far
+as he knew, he said, Mr. Farnaby and his niece, and an English gentleman
+with them, were now on their travels. They had left the hotel with an
+appearance of mystery. The courier had been discharged; and the coachman
+of the hired carriage which took them away had been told to drive
+straight forward until further orders. In short, as the manager put it,
+the departure resembled a flight. Remembering what his American agent
+had told him, Rufus received this information without surprise. Even the
+apparently incomprehensible devotion of Mr. Melton to the interests of
+such a man as Farnaby, failed to present itself to him as a perplexing
+circumstance. To his mind, Mr. Melton's conduct was plainly attributable
+to a reward in prospect; and the name of that reward was--Miss Regina.
+
+At the end of the three weeks, Rufus returned to London.
+
+Once again, he and Toff confronted each other on the threshold of the
+door. This time, the genial old man presented an appearance that was
+little less than dazzling. From head to foot he was arrayed in new
+clothes; and he exhibited an immense rosette of white ribbon in his
+button-hole.
+
+"Thunder!" cried Rufus. "Here's Mr. Frenchman going to be married!"
+
+Toff declined to humour the joke. He stood on his dignity as stiffly as
+ever. "Pardon me, sir, I possess a wife and family already."
+
+"Do you, now? Well--none of your know-nothing answers this time. Has
+Amelius come back?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"And what's the news of Sally?"
+
+"Good news, sir. Miss Sally has come back too."
+
+"You call that good news, do you? I'll say a word to Amelius. What are
+you standing there for? Let me by."
+
+"Pardon me once more, sir. My master and Miss Sally do not receive
+visitors today."
+
+"Your master and Miss Sally?" Rufus repeated. "Has this old creature
+been liquoring up a little too freely? What do you mean," he burst out,
+with a sudden change of tone to stern surprise--"what do you mean by
+putting your master and Sally together?"
+
+Toff shot his bolt at last. "They will be together, sir, for the rest of
+their lives. They were married this morning."
+
+
+Rufus received the blow in dead silence. He turned about, and went back
+to his hotel.
+
+Reaching his room, he opened the despatch box in which he kept
+his correspondence, and picked out the long letter containing the
+description by Amelius of his introduction to the ladies of the Farnaby
+family. He took up the pen, and wrote the indorsement which has been
+quoted as an integral part of the letter itself, in the Second Book of
+this narrative:--
+
+"Ah, poor Amelius! He had better have gone back to Miss Mellicent, and
+put up with the little drawback of her age. What a bright lovable fellow
+he was! Goodbye to Goldenheart!"
+
+
+Were the forebodings of Rufus destined to be fulfilled? This question
+will be answered, it is hoped, in a Second Series of The Fallen Leaves.
+The narrative of the married life of Amelius presents a subject too
+important to be treated within the limits of the present story--and the
+First Series necessarily finds its end in the culminating event of his
+life, thus far.
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Fallen Leaves, by Wilkie Collins
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FALLEN LEAVES ***
+
+***** This file should be named 7894.txt or 7894.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/7/8/9/7894/
+
+Produced by James Rusk
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+http://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+http://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at http://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit http://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     http://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/7894.zip b/7894.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8d50b45
--- /dev/null
+++ b/7894.zip
diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6312041
--- /dev/null
+++ b/LICENSE.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
diff --git a/README.md b/README.md
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..63b331a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/README.md
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #7894 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/7894)
diff --git a/old/leave10.txt b/old/leave10.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8b9d8b8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/leave10.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,14366 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Fallen Leaves, by Wilkie Collins
+#34 in our series by Wilkie Collins
+
+Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the
+copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing
+this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook.
+
+This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project
+Gutenberg file.  Please do not remove it.  Do not change or edit the
+header without written permission.
+
+Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the
+eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file.  Included is
+important information about your specific rights and restrictions in
+how the file may be used.  You can also find out about how to make a
+donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved.
+
+
+**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
+
+**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
+
+*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!*****
+
+
+Title: The Fallen Leaves
+
+Author: Wilkie Collins
+
+Release Date: April, 2005 [EBook #7894]
+[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
+[This file was first posted on May 31, 2003]
+[Date last updated: June 13, 2006]
+
+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FALLEN LEAVES ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by James Rusk
+
+
+
+
+The Fallen Leaves
+
+by Wilkie Collins
+
+
+To CAROLINE
+
+Experience of the reception of _The Fallen Leaves_ by intelligent
+readers, who have followed the course of the periodical publication at
+home and abroad, has satisfied me that the design of the work speaks
+for itself, and that the scrupulous delicacy of treatment, in certain
+portions of the story, has been as justly appreciated as I could wish.
+Having nothing to explain, and (so far as my choice of subject is
+concerned) nothing to excuse, I leave my book, without any prefatory
+pleading for it, to make its appeal to the reading public on such
+merits as it may possess.
+
+W. C. GLOUCESTER PLACE, LONDON July 1st, 1879
+
+
+THE PROLOGUE
+
+I
+
+The resistless influences which are one day to reign supreme over our
+poor hearts, and to shape the sad short course of our lives, are
+sometimes of mysteriously remote origin, and find their devious ways to
+us through the hearts and the lives of strangers.
+
+While the young man whose troubled career it is here proposed to follow
+was wearing his first jacket, and bowling his first hoop, a domestic
+misfortune, falling on a household of strangers, was destined
+nevertheless to have its ultimate influence over his happiness, and to
+shape the whole aftercourse of his life.
+
+For this reason, some First Words must precede the Story, and must
+present the brief narrative of what happened in the household of
+strangers. By what devious ways the event here related affected the
+chief personage of these pages, when he grew to manhood, it will be the
+business of the story to trace, over land and sea, among men and women,
+in bright days and dull days alike, until the end is reached, and the
+pen (God willing) is put back in the desk.
+
+II
+
+Old Benjamin Ronald (of the Stationers' Company) took a young wife at
+the ripe age of fifty, and carried with him into the holy estate of
+matrimony some of the habits of his bachelor life.
+
+As a bachelor, he had never willingly left his shop (situated in that
+exclusively commercial region of London which is called "the City")
+from one year's end to another. As a married man, he persisted in
+following the same monotonous course; with this one difference, that he
+now had a woman to follow it with him. "Travelling by railway," he
+explained to his wife, "will make your head ache--it makes _my_ head
+ache. Travelling by sea will make you sick--it makes _me_ sick. If you
+want change of air, every sort of air is to be found in the City. If
+you admire the beauties of Nature, there is Finsbury Square with the
+beauties of Nature carefully selected and arranged. When we are in
+London, you (and I) are all right; and when we are out of London, you
+(and I) are all wrong." As surely as the autumn holiday season set in,
+so surely Old Ronald resisted his wife's petition for a change of scene
+in that form of words. A man habitually fortified behind his own inbred
+obstinacy and selfishness is for the most part an irresistible power
+within the limits of his domestic circle. As a rule, patient Mrs.
+Ronald yielded; and her husband stood revealed to his neighbours in the
+glorious character of a married man who had his own way.
+
+But in the autumn of 1856, the retribution which sooner or later
+descends on all despotisms, great and small, overtook the iron rule of
+Old Ronald, and defeated the domestic tyrant on the battle-field of his
+own fireside.
+
+The children born of the marriage, two in number, were both daughters.
+The elder had mortally offended her father by marrying imprudently--in
+a pecuniary sense. He had declared that she should never enter his
+house again; and he had mercilessly kept his word. The younger daughter
+(now eighteen years of age) proved to be also a source of parental
+inquietude, in another way. She was the passive cause of the revolt
+which set her father's authority at defiance. For some little time past
+she had been out of health. After many ineffectual trials of the mild
+influence of persuasion, her mother's patience at last gave way. Mrs.
+Ronald insisted--yes, actually insisted--on taking Miss Emma to the
+seaside.
+
+"What's the matter with you?" Old Ronald asked; detecting something
+that perplexed him in his wife's look and manner, on the memorable
+occasion when she asserted a will of her own for the first time in her
+life.
+
+A man of finer observation would have discovered the signs of no
+ordinary anxiety and alarm, struggling to show themselves openly in the
+poor woman's face. Her husband only saw a change that puzzled him.
+"Send for Emma," he said, his natural cunning inspiring him with the
+idea of confronting the mother and daughter, and of seeing what came of
+_that._ Emma appeared, plump and short, with large blue eyes, and full
+pouting lips, and splendid yellow hair: otherwise, miserably pale,
+languid in her movements, careless in her dress, sullen in her manner.
+Out of health as her mother said, and as her father saw.
+
+"You can see for yourself," said Mrs. Ronald, "that the girl is pining
+for fresh air. I have heard Ramsgate recommended."
+
+Old Ronald looked at his daughter. She represented the one tender place
+in his nature. It was not a large place; but it did exist. And the
+proof of it is, that he began to yield--with the worst possible grace.
+
+"Well, we will see about it," he said.
+
+"There is no time to be lost," Mrs. Ronald persisted. "I mean to take
+her to Ramsgate tomorrow."
+
+Mr. Ronald looked at his wife as a dog looks at the maddened sheep that
+turns on him. "You mean?" repeated the stationer. "Upon my soul--what
+next? You mean? Where is the money to come from? Answer me that."
+
+Mrs. Ronald declined to be drawn into a conjugal dispute, in the
+presence of her daughter. She took Emma's arm, and led her to the door.
+There she stopped, and spoke. "I have already told you that the girl is
+ill," she said to her husband. "And I now tell you again that she must
+have the sea air. For God's sake, don't let us quarrel! I have enough
+to try me without that." She closed the door on herself and her
+daughter, and left her lord and master standing face to face with the
+wreck of his own outraged authority.
+
+What further progress was made by the domestic revolt, when the bedroom
+candles were lit, and the hour of retirement had arrived with the
+night, is naturally involved in mystery. This alone is certain: On the
+next morning, the luggage was packed, and the cab was called to the
+door. Mrs. Ronald spoke her parting words to her husband in private.
+
+"I hope I have not expressed myself too strongly about taking Emma to
+the seaside," she said, in gentle pleading tones. "I am anxious about
+our girl's health. If I have offended you--without meaning it, God
+knows!--say you forgive me before I go. I have tried honestly, dear, to
+be a good wife to you. And you have always trusted me, haven't you? And
+you trust me still?"
+
+She took his lean cold hand, and pressed it fervently: her eyes rested
+on him with a strange mixture of timidity and anxiety. Still in the
+prime of her life, she preserved the personal attractions--the fair
+calm refined face, the natural grace of look and movement--which had
+made her marriage to a man old enough to be her father a cause of angry
+astonishment among all her friends. In the agitation that now possessed
+her, her colour rose, her eyes brightened; she looked for the moment
+almost young enough to be Emma's sister. Her husband opened his hard
+old eyes in surly bewilderment. "Why need you make this fuss?" he
+asked. "I don't understand you." Mrs. Ronald shrank at those words as
+if he had struck her. She kissed him in silence, and joined her
+daughter in the cab.
+
+For the rest of that day, the persons in the stationer's employment had
+a hard time of it with their master in the shop. Something had upset
+Old Ronald. He ordered the shutters to be put up earlier that evening
+than usual. Instead of going to his club (at the tavern round the
+corner), he took a long walk in the lonely and lifeless streets of the
+City by night. There was no disguising it from himself; his wife's
+behaviour at parting had made him uneasy. He naturally swore at her for
+taking that liberty, while he lay awake alone in his bed. "Damn the
+woman! What does she mean?" The cry of the soul utters itself in
+various forms of expression. That was the cry of Old Ronald's soul,
+literally translated.
+
+III
+
+The next morning brought him a letter from Ramsgate.
+
+"I write immediately to tell you of our safe arrival. We have found
+comfortable lodgings (as the address at the head of this letter will
+inform you) in Albion Place. I thank you, and Emma desires to thank you
+also, for your kindness in providing us with ample means for taking our
+little trip. It is beautiful weather today; the sea is calm, and the
+pleasure-boats are out. We do not of course expect to see you here. But
+if you do, by any chance, overcome your objection to moving out of
+London, I have a little request to make. Please let me hear of your
+visit beforehand--so that I may not omit all needful preparations. I
+know you dislike being troubled with letters (except on business), so I
+will not write too frequently. Be so good as to take no news for good
+news, in the intervals. When you have a few minutes to spare, you will
+write, I hope, and tell me how you and the shop are going on. Emma
+sends you her love, in which I beg to join." So the letter was
+expressed, and so it ended.
+
+"They needn't be afraid of my troubling them. Calm seas and
+pleasure-boats! Stuff and nonsense!" Such was the first impression
+which his wife's report of herself produced on Old Ronald's mind. After
+a while, he looked at the letter again--and frowned, and reflected.
+"Please let me hear of your visit beforehand," he repeated to himself,
+as if the request had been, in some incomprehensible way, offensive to
+him. He opened the drawer of his desk, and threw the letter into it.
+When business was over for the day, he went to his club at the tavern,
+and made himself unusually disagreeable to everybody.
+
+A week passed. In the interval he wrote briefly to his wife. "I'm all
+right, and the shop goes on as usual." He also forwarded one or two
+letters which came for Mrs. Ronald. No more news reached him from
+Ramsgate. "I suppose they're enjoying themselves," he reflected. "The
+house looks queer without them; I'll go to the club."
+
+He stayed later than usual, and drank more than usual, that night. It
+was nearly one in the morning when he let himself in with his
+latch-key, and went upstairs to bed.
+
+Approaching the toilette-table, he found a letter lying on it,
+addressed to "Mr. Ronald--private." It was not in his wife's
+handwriting; not in any handwriting known to him. The characters sloped
+the wrong way, and the envelope bore no postmark. He eyed it over and
+over suspiciously. At last he opened it, and read these lines:
+
+"You are advised by a true friend to lose no time in looking after your
+wife. There are strange doings at the seaside. If you don't believe me,
+ask Mrs. Turner, Number 1, Slains Row, Ramsgate."
+
+No address, no date, no signature--an anonymous letter, the first he
+had ever received in the long course of his life.
+
+His hard brain was in no way affected by the liquor that he had drunk.
+He sat down on his bed, mechanically folding and refolding the letter.
+The reference to "Mrs. Turner" produced no impression on him of any
+sort: no person of that name, common as it was, happened to be numbered
+on the list of his friends or his customers. But for one circumstance,
+he would have thrown the letter aside, in contempt. His memory reverted
+to his wife's incomprehensible behaviour at parting. Addressing him
+through that remembrance, the anonymous warning assumed a certain
+importance to his mind. He went down to his desk, in the back office,
+and took his wife's letter out of the drawer, and read it through
+slowly. "Ha!" he said, pausing as he came across the sentence which
+requested him to write beforehand, in the unlikely event of his
+deciding to go to Ramsgate. He thought again of the strangely
+persistent way in which his wife had dwelt on his trusting her; he
+recalled her nervous anxious looks, her deepening colour, her agitation
+at one moment, and then her sudden silence and sudden retreat to the
+cab. Fed by these irritating influences, the inbred suspicion in his
+nature began to take fire slowly. She might be innocent enough in
+asking him to give her notice before he joined her at the seaside--she
+might naturally be anxious to omit no needful preparation for his
+comfort. Still, he didn't like it; no, he didn't like it. An appearance
+as of a slow collapse passed little by little over his rugged wrinkled
+face. He looked many years older than his age, as he sat at the desk,
+with the flaring candlelight close in front of him, thinking. The
+anonymous letter lay before him, side by side with his wife's letter.
+On a sudden, he lifted his gray head, and clenched his fist, and struck
+the venomous written warning as if it had been a living thing that
+could feel. "Whoever you are," he said, "I'll take your advice."
+
+He never even made the attempt to go to bed that night. His pipe helped
+him through the comfortless and dreary hours. Once or twice he thought
+of his daughter. Why had her mother been so anxious about her? Why had
+her mother taken her to Ramsgate? Perhaps, as a blind--ah, yes, perhaps
+as a blind! More for the sake of something to do than for any other
+reason, he packed a handbag with a few necessaries. As soon as the
+servant was stirring, he ordered her to make him a cup of strong
+coffee. After that, it was time to show himself as usual, on the
+opening of the shop. To his astonishment, he found his clerk taking
+down the shutters, in place of the porter.
+
+"What does this mean?" he asked. "Where is Farnaby?"
+
+The clerk looked at his master, and paused aghast with a shutter in his
+hands.
+
+"Good Lord! what has come to you?" he cried. "Are you ill?"
+
+Old Ronald angrily repeated his question: "Where is Farnaby?"
+
+"I don't know," was the answer.
+
+"You don't know? Have you been up to his bedroom?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Well, he isn't in his bedroom. And, what's more, his bed hasn't been
+slept in last night. Farnaby's off, sir--nobody knows where."
+
+Old Ronald dropped heavily into the nearest chair. This second mystery,
+following on the mystery of the anonymous letter, staggered him. But
+his business instincts were still in good working order. He held out
+his keys to the clerk. "Get the petty cash-book," he said, "and see if
+the money is all right."
+
+The clerk received the keys under protest. _"That's_ not the right
+reading of the riddle," he remarked.
+
+"Do as I tell you!"
+
+The clerk opened the money-drawer under the counter; counted the
+pounds, shillings and pence paid by chance customers up to the closing
+of the shop on the previous evening; compared the result with the petty
+cash-book, and answered, "Right to a halfpenny."
+
+Satisfied so far, old Ronald condescended to approach the speculative
+side of the subject, with the assistance of his subordinate. "If what
+you said just now means anything," he resumed, "it means that you
+suspect the reason why Farnaby has left my service. Let's hear it."
+
+"You know that I never liked John Farnaby," the clerk began. "An active
+young fellow and a clever young fellow, I grant you. But a bad servant
+for all that. False, Mr. Ronald--false to the marrow of his bones."
+
+Mr. Ronald's patience began to give way. "Come to the facts," he
+growled. "Why has Farnaby gone off without a word to anybody? Do you
+know that?"
+
+"I know no more than you do," the clerk answered coolly. "Don't fly
+into a passion. I have got some facts for you, if you will only give me
+time. Turn them over in your own mind, and see what they come to. Three
+days ago I was short of postage-stamps, and I went to the office.
+Farnaby was there, waiting at the desk where they pay the post-office
+orders. There must have been ten or a dozen people with letters,
+orders, and what not, between him and me. I got behind him quietly, and
+looked over his shoulder. I saw the clerk give him the money for his
+post-office order. Five pounds in gold, which I reckoned as they lay on
+the counter, and a bank-note besides, which he crumpled up in his hand.
+I can't tell you how much it was for; I only know it _was_ a bank-note.
+Just ask yourself how a porter on twenty shillings a week (with a
+mother who takes in washing, and a father who takes in drink) comes to
+have a correspondent who sends him an order for five sovereigns--and a
+bank-note, value unknown. Say he's turned betting-man in secret. Very
+good. There's the post-office order, in that case, to show that he's
+got a run of luck. If he has got a run of luck, tell me this--why does
+he leave his place like a thief in the night? He's not a slave; he's
+not even an apprentice. When he thinks he can better himself, he has no
+earthly need to keep it a secret that he means to leave your service.
+He may have met with an accident, to be sure. But that's not _my_
+belief. I say he's up to some mischief And now comes the question: What
+are we to do?"
+
+Mr. Ronald, listening with his head down, and without interposing a
+word on his own part, made an extraordinary answer. "Leave it," he
+said. "Leave it till tomorrow."
+
+"Why?" the clerk answered, without ceremony.
+
+Mr. Ronald made another extraordinary answer. "Because I am obliged to
+go out of town for the day. Look after the business. The ironmonger's
+man over the way will help you to put up the shutters at night. If
+anybody inquires for me, say I shall be back tomorrow." With those
+parting directions, heedless of the effect that he had produced on the
+clerk, he looked at his watch, and left the shop.
+
+
+IV
+
+The bell which gave five minutes' notice of the starting of the
+Ramsgate train had just rung.
+
+While the other travellers were hastening to the platform, two persons
+stood passively apart as if they had not even yet decided on taking
+their places in the train. One of the two was a smart young man in a
+cheap travelling suit; mainly noticeable by his florid complexion, his
+restless dark eyes, and his profusely curling black hair. The other was
+a middle-aged woman in frowsy garments; tall and stout, sly and sullen.
+The smart young man stood behind the uncongenial-looking person with
+whom he had associated himself, using her as a screen to hide him while
+he watched the travellers on their way to the train. As the bell rang,
+the woman suddenly faced her companion, and pointed to the railway
+clock.
+
+"Are you waiting to make up your mind till the train has gone?" she
+asked.
+
+The young man frowned impatiently. "I am waiting for a person whom I
+expect to see," he answered. "If the person travels by this train, we
+shall travel by it. If not, we shall come back here, and look out for
+the next train, and so on till night-time, if it's necessary."
+
+The woman fixed her small scowling gray eyes on the man as he replied
+in those terms. "Look here!" she broke out. "I like to see my way
+before me. You're a stranger, young Mister; and it's as likely as not
+you've given me a false name and address. That don't matter. False
+names are commoner than true ones, in my line of life. But mind this! I
+don't stir a step farther till I've got half the money in my hand, and
+my return-ticket there and back."
+
+"Hold your tongue!" the man suddenly interposed in a whisper. "It's all
+right. I'll get the tickets."
+
+He looked while he spoke at an elderly traveller, hastening by with his
+head down, deep in thought, noticing nobody. The traveller was Mr.
+Ronald. The young man, who had that moment recognized him, was his
+runaway porter, John Farnaby.
+
+Returning with the tickets, the porter took his repellent travelling
+companion by the arm, and hurried her along the platform to the train.
+"The money!" she whispered, as they took their places. Farnaby handed
+it to her, ready wrapped up in a morsel of paper. She opened the paper,
+satisfied herself that no trick had been played her, and leaned back in
+her corner to go to sleep. The train started. Old Ronald travelled by
+the second class; his porter and his porter's companion accompanied him
+secretly by the third.
+
+V
+
+It was still early in the afternoon when Mr. Ronald descended the
+narrow street which leads from the high land of the South-Eastern
+railway station to the port of Ramsgate. Asking his way of the first
+policeman whom he met, he turned to the left, and reached the cliff on
+which the houses in Albion Place are situated. Farnaby followed him at
+a discreet distance; and the woman followed Farnaby.
+
+Arrived in sight of the lodging-house, Mr. Ronald paused--partly to
+recover his breath, partly to compose himself. He was conscious of a
+change of feeling as he looked up at the windows: his errand suddenly
+assumed a contemptible aspect in his own eyes. He almost felt ashamed
+of himself. After twenty years of undisturbed married life, was it
+possible that he had doubted his wife--and that at the instigation of a
+stranger whose name even was unknown to him? "If she was to step out in
+the balcony, and see me down here," he thought, "what a fool I should
+look!" He felt half-inclined, at the moment when he lifted the knocker
+of the door, to put it back again quietly, and return to London. No! it
+was too late. The maid-servant was hanging up her birdcage in the area
+of the house; the maid-servant had seen him.
+
+"Does Mrs. Ronald lodge here?" he asked.
+
+The girl lifted her eyebrows and opened her mouth--stared at him in
+speechless confusion--and disappeared in the kitchen regions. This
+strange reception of his inquiry irritated him unreasonably. He knocked
+with the absurd violence of a man who vents his anger on the first
+convenient thing that he can find. The landlady opened the door, and
+looked at him in stern and silent surprise.
+
+"Does Mrs. Ronald lodge here?" he repeated.
+
+The landlady answered with some appearance of effort--the effort of a
+person who was carefully considering her words before she permitted
+them to pass her lips.
+
+"Mrs. Ronald has taken rooms here. But she has not occupied them yet."
+
+"Not occupied them yet?" The words bewildered him as if they had been
+spoken in an unknown tongue. He stood stupidly silent on the doorstep.
+His anger was gone; an all-mastering fear throbbed heavily at his
+heart. The landlady looked at him, and said to her secret self: "Just
+what I suspected; there _is_ something wrong!"
+
+"Perhaps I have not sufficiently explained myself, sir," she resumed
+with grave politeness. "Mrs. Ronald told me that she was staying at
+Ramsgate with friends. She would move into my house, she said, when her
+friends left--but they had not quite settled the day yet. She calls
+here for letters. Indeed, she was here early this morning, to pay the
+second week's rent. I asked when she thought of moving in. She didn't
+seem to know; her friends (as I understood) had not made up their
+minds. I must say I thought it a little odd. Would you like to leave
+any message?"
+
+He recovered himself sufficiently to speak. "Can you tell me where her
+friends live?" he said.
+
+The landlady shook her head. "No, indeed. I offered to save Mrs. Ronald
+the trouble of calling here, by sending letters or cards to her present
+residence. She declined the offer--and she has never mentioned the
+address. Would you like to come in and rest, sir? I will see that your
+card is taken care of, if you wish to leave it."
+
+"Thank you, ma'am--it doesn't matter--good morning."
+
+The landlady looked after him as he descended the house-steps. "It's
+the husband, Peggy," she said to the servant, waiting inquisitively
+behind her. "Poor old gentleman! And such a respectable-looking woman,
+too!"
+
+Mr. Ronald walked mechanically to the end of the row of houses, and met
+the wide grand view of sea and sky. There were some seats behind the
+railing which fenced the edge of the cliff. He sat down, perfectly
+stupefied and helpless, on the nearest bench.
+
+At the close of life, the loss of a man's customary nourishment extends
+its debilitating influence rapidly from his body to his mind. Mr.
+Ronald had tasted nothing but his cup of coffee since the previous
+night. His mind began to wander strangely; he was not angry or
+frightened or distressed. Instead of thinking of what had just
+happened, he was thinking of his young days when he had been a
+cricket-player. One special game revived in his memory, at which he had
+been struck on the head by the ball. "Just the same feeling," he
+reflected vacantly, with his hat off, and his hand on his forehead.
+"Dazed and giddy--just the same feeling!"
+
+He leaned back on the bench, and fixed his eyes on the sea, and
+wondered languidly what had come to him. Farnaby and the woman, still
+following, waited round the corner where they could just keep him in
+view.
+
+The blue lustre of the sky was without a cloud; the sunny sea leapt
+under the fresh westerly breeze. From the beach, the cries of children
+at play, the shouts of donkey-boys driving their poor beasts, the
+distant notes of brass instruments playing a waltz, and the mellow
+music of the small waves breaking on the sand, rose joyously together
+on the fragrant air. On the next bench, a dirty old boatman was prosing
+to a stupid old visitor. Mr. Ronald listened, with a sense of vacant
+content in the mere act of listening. The boatman's words found their
+way to his ears like the other sounds that were abroad in the air.
+"Yes; them's the Goodwin Sands, where you see the lightship. And that
+steamer there, towing a vessel into the harbour, that's the Ramsgate
+Tug. Do you know what I should like to see? I should like to see the
+Ramsgate Tug blow up. Why? I'll tell you why. I belong to Broadstairs;
+I don't belong to Ramsgate. Very well. I'm idling here, as you may see,
+without one copper piece in my pocket to rub against another. What
+trade do I belong to? I don't belong to no trade; I belong to a boat.
+The boat's rotting at Broadstairs, for want of work. And all along of
+what? All along of the Tug. The Tug has took the bread out of our
+mouths: me and my mates. Wait a bit; I'll show you how. What did a ship
+do, in the good old times, when she got on them sands--Goodwin Sands?
+Went to pieces, if it come on to blow; or got sucked down little by
+little when it was fair weather. Now I'm coming to it. What did We do
+(in the good old times, mind you) when we happened to see that ship in
+distress? Out with our boat; blow high or blow low, out with our boat.
+And saved the lives of the crew, did you say? Well, yes; saving the
+crew was part of the day's work, to be sure; the part we didn't get
+paid for. We saved _the cargo,_ Master! and got salvage!! Hundreds of
+pounds, I tell you, divided amongst us by law!!! Ah, those times are
+gone. A parcel of sneaks get together, and subscribe to build a
+Steam-Tug. When a ship gets on the sands now, out goes the Tug, night
+and day alike, and brings her safe into harbour, and takes the bread
+out of our mouths. Shameful--that's what I call it--shameful."
+
+The last words of the boatman's lament fell lower, lower, lower on Mr.
+Ronald's ears--he lost them altogether--he lost the view of the sea--he
+lost the sense of the wind blowing over him. Suddenly, he was roused as
+if from a deep sleep. On one side, the man from Broadstairs was shaking
+him by the collar. "I say, Master, cheer up; what's come to you?" On
+the other side, a compassionate lady was offering her smelling-bottle.
+"I am afraid, sir, you have fainted." He struggled to his feet, and
+vacantly thanked the lady. The man from Broadstairs--with an eye to
+salvage--took charge of the human wreck, and towed him to the nearest
+public-house. "A chop and a glass of brandy-and-water," said this good
+Samaritan of the nineteenth century. "That's what you want. I'm peckish
+myself, and I'll keep you company."
+
+He was perfectly passive in the hands of any one who would take charge
+of him; he submitted as if he had been the boatman's dog, and had heard
+the whistle.
+
+It could only be truly said that he had come to himself, when there had
+been time enough for him to feel the reanimating influence of the food
+and drink. Then he got to his feet, and looked with incredulous wonder
+at the companion of his meal. The man from Broadstairs opened his
+greasy lips, and was silenced by the sudden appearance of a gold coin
+between Mr. Ronald's finger and thumb. "Don't speak to me; pay the
+bill, and bring me the change outside." When the boatman joined him, he
+was reading a letter; walking to and fro, and speaking at intervals to
+himself. "God help me, have I lost my senses? I don't know what to do
+next." He referred to the letter again: "if you don't believe me, ask
+Mrs. Turner, Number 1, Slains Row, Ramsgate." He put the letter back in
+his pocket, and rallied suddenly. "Slains Row," he said, turning to the
+boatman. "Take me there directly, and keep the change for yourself."
+
+The boatman's gratitude was (apparently) beyond expression in words. He
+slapped his pocket cheerfully, and that was all. Leading the way
+inland, he went downhill, and uphill again--then turned aside towards
+the eastern extremity of the town.
+
+Farnaby, still following, with the woman behind him, stopped when the
+boatman diverged towards the east, and looked up at the name of the
+street. "I've got my instructions," he said; "I know where he's going.
+Step out! We'll get there before him, by another way."
+
+Mr. Ronald and his guide reached a row of poor little houses, with poor
+little gardens in front of them and behind them. The back windows
+looked out on downs and fields lying on either side of the road to
+Broadstairs. It was a lost and lonely spot. The guide stopped, and put
+a question with inquisitive respect. "What number, sir?" Mr. Ronald had
+sufficiently recovered himself to keep his own counsel. "That will do,"
+he said. "You can leave me." The boatman waited a moment. Mr. Ronald
+looked at him. The boatman was slow to understand that his leadership
+had gone from him. "You're sure you don't want me any more?" he said.
+"Quite sure," Mr. Ronald answered. The man from Broadstairs
+retired--with his salvage to comfort him.
+
+Number 1 was at the farther extremity of the row of houses. When Mr.
+Ronald rang the bell, the spies were already posted. The woman loitered
+on the road, within view of the door. Farnaby was out of sight, round
+the corner, watching the house over the low wooden palings of the back
+garden.
+
+A lazy-looking man, in his shirt sleeves, opened the door. "Mrs. Turner
+at home?" he repeated. "Well, she's at home; but she's too busy to see
+anybody. What's your pleasure?" Mr. Ronald declined to accept excuses
+or to answer questions. "I must see Mrs. Turner directly," he said, "on
+important business." His tone and manner had their effect on the lazy
+man. "What name?" he asked. Mr. Ronald declined to mention his name.
+"Give my message," he said. "I won't detain Mrs. Turner more than a
+minute." The man hesitated--and opened the door of the front parlour.
+An old woman was fast asleep on a ragged little sofa. The man gave up
+the front parlour, and tried the back parlour next. It was empty.
+"Please to wait here," he said--and went away to deliver his message.
+
+The parlour was a miserably furnished room. Through the open window,
+the patch of back garden was barely visible under fluttering rows of
+linen hanging out on lines to dry. A pack of dirty cards, and some
+plain needlework, littered the bare little table. A cheap American
+clock ticked with stern and steady activity on the mantelpiece. The
+smell of onions was in the air. A torn newspaper, with stains of beer
+on it, lay on the floor. There was some sinister influence in the place
+which affected Mr. Ronald painfully. He felt himself trembling, and sat
+down on one of the rickety chairs. The minutes followed one another
+wearily. He heard a trampling of feet in the room above--then a door
+opened and closed--then the rustle of a woman's dress on the stairs. In
+a moment more, the handle of the parlour door was turned. He rose, in
+anticipation of Mrs. Turner's appearance. The door opened. He found
+himself face to face with his wife.
+
+VI
+
+John Farnaby, posted at the garden paling, suddenly lifted his head and
+looked towards the open window of the back parlour. He reflected for a
+moment--and then joined his female companion on the road in front of
+the house.
+
+"I want you at the back garden," he said. "Come along!"
+
+"How much longer am I to be kept kicking my heels in this wretched
+hole?" the woman asked sulkily.
+
+"As much longer as I please--if you want to go back to London with the
+other half of the money." He showed it to her as he spoke. She followed
+him without another word.
+
+Arrived at the paling, Farnaby pointed to the window, and to the back
+garden door, which was left ajar. "Speak softly," he whispered. "Do you
+hear voices in the house?"
+
+"I don't hear what they're talking about, if that's what you mean."
+
+"I don't hear, either. Now mind what I tell you--I have reasons of my
+own for getting a little nearer to that window. Sit down under the
+paling, so that you can't be seen from the house. If you hear a row,
+you may take it for granted that I am found out. In that case, go back
+to London by the next train, and meet me at the terminus at two o'clock
+tomorrow afternoon. If nothing happens, wait where you are till you
+hear from me or see me again."
+
+He laid his hand on the low paling, and vaulted over it. The linen
+hanging up in the garden to dry offered him a means of concealment (if
+any one happened to look out of the window) of which he skilfully
+availed himself. The dust-bin was at the side of the house, situated at
+a right angle to the parlour window. He was safe behind the bin,
+provided no one appeared on the path which connected the patch of
+garden at the back with the patch in front. Here, running the risk, he
+waited and listened.
+
+The first voice that reached his ears was the voice of Mrs. Ronald. She
+was speaking with a firmness of tone that astonished him.
+
+"Hear me to the end, Benjamin," she said. "I have a right to ask as
+much as that of my husband, and I do ask it. If I had been bent on
+nothing but saving the reputation of our miserable girl, you would have
+a right to blame me for keeping you ignorant of the calamity that has
+fallen on us--"
+
+There the voice of her husband interposed sternly. "Calamity! Say
+disgrace, everlasting disgrace."
+
+Mrs. Ronald did not notice the interruption. Sadly and patiently she
+went on.
+
+"But I had a harder trial still to face," she said. "I had to save her,
+in spite of herself, from the wretch who has brought this infamy on us.
+He has acted throughout in cold blood; it is his interest to marry her,
+and from first to last he has plotted to force the marriage on us. For
+God's sake, don't speak loud! She is in the room above us; if she hears
+you it will be the death of her. Don't suppose I am talking at random;
+I have looked at his letters to her; I have got the confession of the
+servant-girl. Such a confession! Emma is his victim, body and soul. I
+know it! I know that she sent him money (_my_ money) from this place. I
+know that the servant (at _her_ instigation) informed him by telegraph
+of the birth of the child. Oh, Benjamin, don't curse the poor helpless
+infant--such a sweet little girl! don't think of it! I don't think of
+it! Show me the letter that brought you here; I want to see the letter.
+Ah, I can tell you who wrote it! _He_ wrote it. In his own interests;
+always with his own interests in view. Don't you see it for yourself?
+If I succeed in keeping this shame and misery a secret from
+everybody--if I take Emma away, to some place abroad, on pretence of
+her health--there is an end of his hope of becoming your son-in-law;
+there is an end of his being taken into the business. Yes! he, the
+low-lived vagabond who puts up the shop-shutters, _he_ looks forward to
+being taken into partnership, and succeeding you when you die! Isn't
+his object in writing that letter as plain to you now as the heaven
+above us? His one chance is to set your temper in a flame, to provoke
+the scandal of a discovery--and to force the marriage on us as the only
+remedy left. Am I wrong in making any sacrifice, rather than bind our
+girl for life, our own flesh and blood, to such a man as that? Surely
+you can feel for me, and forgive me, now. How could I own the truth to
+you, before I left London, knowing you as I do? How could I expect you
+to be patient, to go into hiding, to pass under a false name--to do all
+the degrading things that must be done, if we are to keep Emma out of
+this man's way? No! I know no more than you do where Farnaby is to be
+found. Hush! there is the door-bell. It's the doctor's time for his
+visit. I tell you again I don't know--on my sacred word of honour, I
+don't know where Farnaby is. Oh, be quiet! be quiet! there's the doctor
+going upstairs! don't let the doctor hear you!"
+
+So far, she had succeeded in composing her husband. But the fury which
+she had innocently roused in him, in her eagerness to justify herself,
+now broke beyond all control. "You lie!" he cried furiously. "If you
+know everything else about it, you know where Farnaby is. I'll be the
+death of him, if I swing for it on the gallows! Where is he? Where is
+he?"
+
+A shriek from the upper room silenced him before Mrs. Ronald could
+speak again. His daughter had heard him; his daughter had recognized
+his voice.
+
+A cry of terror from her mother echoed the cry from above; the sound of
+the opening and closing of the door followed instantly. Then there was
+a momentary silence. Then Mrs. Ronald's voice was heard from the upper
+room calling to the nurse, asleep in the front parlour. The nurse's
+gruff tones were just audible, answering from the parlour door. There
+was another interval of silence; broken by another voice--a stranger's
+voice--speaking at the open window, close by.
+
+"Follow me upstairs, sir, directly," the voice said in peremptory
+tones. "As your daughter's medical attendant, I tell you in the
+plainest terms that you have seriously frightened her. In her critical
+condition, I decline to answer for her life, unless you make the
+attempt at least to undo the mischief you have done. Whether you mean
+it or not, soothe her with kind words; say you have forgiven her. No! I
+have nothing to do with your domestic troubles; I have only my patient
+to think of. I don't care what she asks of you, you must give way to
+her now. If she falls into convulsions, she will die--and her death
+will be at your door."
+
+So, with feebler and feebler interruptions from Mr. Ronald, the doctor
+spoke. It ended plainly in his being obeyed. The departing footsteps of
+the men were the next sounds to be heard. After that, there was a pause
+of silence--a long pause, broken by Mrs. Ronald, calling again from the
+upper regions. "Take the child into the back parlour, nurse, and wait
+till I come to you. It's cooler there, at this time of the day."
+
+The wailing of an infant, and the gruff complaining of the nurse, were
+the next sounds that reached Farnaby in his hiding place. The nurse was
+grumbling to herself over the grievance of having been awakened from
+her sleep. "After being up all night, a person wants rest. There's no
+rest for anybody in this house. My head's as heavy as lead, and every
+bone in me has got an ache in it."
+
+Before long, the renewed silence indicated that she had succeeded in
+hushing the child to sleep. Farnaby forgot the restraints of caution
+for the first time. His face flushed with excitement; he ventured
+nearer to the window, in his eagerness to find out what might happen
+next. After no long interval, the next sound came--a sound of heavy
+breathing, which told him that the drowsy nurse was falling asleep
+again. The window-sill was within reach of his hands. He waited until
+the heavy breathing deepened to snoring. Then he drew himself up by the
+window-sill, and looked into the room.
+
+The nurse was fast asleep in an armchair; and the child was fast asleep
+on her lap.
+
+He dropped softly to the ground again. Taking off his shoes, and
+putting them in his pockets, he ascended the two or three steps which
+led to the half-open back garden door. Arrived in the passage, he could
+just hear them talking upstairs. They were no doubt still absorbed in
+their troubles; he had only the servant to dread. The splashing of
+water in the kitchen informed him that she was safely occupied in
+washing. Slowly and softly he opened the back parlour door, and stole
+across the room to the nurse's chair.
+
+One of her hands still rested on the child. The serious risk was the
+risk of waking her, if he lost his presence of mind and hurried it!
+
+He glanced at the American clock on the mantelpiece. The result
+relieved him; it was not so late as he had feared. He knelt down, to
+steady himself, as nearly as possible on a level with the nurse's
+knees. By a hair's breadth at a time, he got both hands under the
+child. By a hair's breadth at a time, he drew the child away from her;
+leaving her hand resting on her lap by degrees so gradual that the
+lightest sleeper could not have felt the change. That done (barring
+accidents), all was done. Keeping the child resting easily on his left
+arm, he had his right hand free to shut the door again. Arrived at the
+garden steps, a slight change passed over the sleeping infant's
+face--the delicate little creature shivered as it felt the full flow of
+the open air. He softly laid over its face a corner of the woollen
+shawl in which it was wrapped. The child reposed as quietly on his arm
+as if it had still been on the nurse's lap.
+
+In a minute more he was at the paling. The woman rose to receive him,
+with the first smile that had crossed her face since they had left
+London.
+
+"So you've got the baby," she said, "Well, you _are_ a deep one!"
+
+"Take it," he answered irritably. "We haven't a moment to lose."
+
+Only stopping to put on his shoes, he led the way towards the more
+central part of the town. The first person he met directed him to the
+railway station. It was close by. In five minutes more the woman and
+the baby were safe in the train to London.
+
+"There's the other half of the money," he said, handing it to her
+through the carriage window.
+
+The woman eyed the child in her arms with a frowning expression of
+doubt. "All very well as long as it lasts," she said. "And what after
+that?"
+
+"Of course, I shall call and see you," he answered.
+
+She looked hard at him, and expressed the whole value she set on that
+assurance in four words. "Of course you will!"
+
+The train started for London. Farnaby watched it, as it left the
+platform, with a look of unfeigned relief. "There!" he thought to
+himself. "Emma's reputation is safe enough now! When we are married, we
+mustn't have a love-child in the way of our prospects in life."
+
+Leaving the station, he stopped at the refreshment room, and drank a
+glass of brandy-and-water. "Something to screw me up," he thought, "for
+what is to come." What was to come (after he had got rid of the child)
+had been carefully considered by him, on the journey to Ramsgate.
+"Emma's husband-that-is-to-be"--he had reasoned it out--"will naturally
+be the first person Emma wants to see, when the loss of the baby has
+upset the house. If Old Ronald has a grain of affection left in him, he
+must let her marry me after _that!"_
+
+Acting on this view of his position, he took the way that led back to
+Slains Row, and rang the door-bell as became a visitor who had no
+reasons for concealment now.
+
+The household was doubtless already disorganized by the discovery of
+the child's disappearance. Neither master nor servant was active in
+answering the bell. Farnaby submitted to be kept waiting with perfect
+composure. There are occasions on which a handsome man is bound to put
+his personal advantages to their best use. He took out his pocket-comb,
+and touched up the arrangement of his whiskers with a skilled and
+gentle hand. Approaching footsteps made themselves heard along the
+passage at last. Farnaby put back his comb, and buttoned his coat
+briskly. "Now for it!" he said, as the door was opened at last.
+
+
+
+THE STORY
+
+BOOK THE FIRST
+
+AMELIUS AMONG THE SOCIALISTS
+
+CHAPTER 1
+
+Sixteen years after the date of Mr. Ronald's disastrous discovery at
+Ramsgate--that is to say, in the year 1872--the steamship _Aquila_ left
+the port of New York, bound for Liverpool.
+
+It was the month of September. The passenger-list of the _Aquila_ had
+comparatively few names inscribed on it. In the autumn season, the
+voyage from America to England, but for the remunerative value of the
+cargo, would prove to be for the most part a profitless voyage to
+shipowners. The flow of passengers, at that time of year, sets steadily
+the other way. Americans are returning from Europe to their own
+country. Tourists have delayed the voyage until the fierce August heat
+of the United States has subsided, and the delicious Indian summer is
+ready to welcome them. At bed and board the passengers by the _Aquila_
+on her homeward voyage had plenty of room, and the choicest morsels for
+everybody alike on the well spread dinner-table.
+
+The wind was favourable, the weather was lovely. Cheerfulness and
+good-humour pervaded the ship from stem to stern. The courteous captain
+did the honours of the cabin-table with the air of a gentleman who was
+receiving friends in his own house. The handsome doctor promenaded the
+deck arm-in-arm with ladies in course of rapid recovery from the first
+gastric consequences of travelling by sea. The excellent chief
+engineer, musical in his leisure moments to his fingers' ends, played
+the fiddle in his cabin, accompanied on the flute by that young Apollo
+of the Atlantic trade, the steward's mate. Only on the third morning of
+the voyage was the harmony on board the _Aquila_ disturbed by a passing
+moment of discord--due to an unexpected addition to the ranks of the
+passengers, in the shape of a lost bird!
+
+It was merely a weary little land-bird (blown out of its course, as the
+learned in such matters supposed); and it perched on one of the yards
+to rest and recover itself after its long flight.
+
+The instant the creature was discovered, the insatiable Anglo-Saxon
+delight in killing birds, from the majestic eagle to the contemptible
+sparrow, displayed itself in its full frenzy. The crew ran about the
+decks, the passengers rushed into their cabins, eager to seize the
+first gun and to have the first shot. An old quarter-master of the
+_Aquila_ was the enviable man, who first found the means of destruction
+ready to his hand. He lifted the gun to his shoulder, he had his finger
+on the trigger, when he was suddenly pounced upon by one of the
+passengers--a young, slim, sunburnt, active man--who snatched away the
+gun, discharged it over the side of the vessel, and turned furiously on
+the quarter-master. "You wretch! would you kill the poor weary bird
+that trusts our hospitality, and only asks us to give it a rest? That
+little harmless thing is as much one of God's creatures as you are. I'm
+ashamed of you--I'm horrified at you--you've got bird-murder in your
+face; I hate the sight of you!"
+
+The quarter-master--a large grave fat man, slow alike in his bodily and
+his mental movements--listened to this extraordinary remonstrance with
+a fixed stare of amazement, and an open mouth from which the unspat
+tobacco-juice tricked in little brown streams. When the impetuous young
+gentleman paused (not for want of words, merely for want of breath),
+the quarter-master turned about, and addressed himself to the audience
+gathered round. "Gentlemen," he said, with a Roman brevity, "this young
+fellow is mad."
+
+The captain's voice checked the general outbreak of laughter. "That
+will do, quarter-master. Let it be understood that nobody is to shoot
+the bird--and let me suggest to _you,_ sir, that you might have
+expressed your sentiments quite as effectually in less violent
+language."
+
+Addressed in those terms, the impetuous young man burst into another
+fit of excitement. "You're quite right, sir! I deserve every word you
+have said to me; I feel I have disgraced myself." He ran after the
+quartermaster, and seized him by both hands. "I beg your pardon; I beg
+your pardon with all my heart. You would have served me right if you
+had thrown me overboard after the language I used to you. Pray excuse
+my quick temper; pray forgive me. What do you say? 'Let bygones _be_
+bygones'? That's a capital way of putting it. You're a thorough good
+fellow. If I can ever be of the smallest use to you (there's my card
+and address in London), let me know it; I entreat you let me know it."
+He returned in a violent hurry to the captain. "I've made it up with
+the quarter-master, sir. He forgives me; he bears no malice. Allow me
+to congratulate you on having such a good Christian in your ship. I
+wish I was like him! Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, for the
+disturbance I have made. It shan't happen again--I promise you that."
+
+The male travellers in general looked at each other, and seemed to
+agree with the quarter-master's opinion of their fellow-passenger. The
+women, touched by his evident sincerity, and charmed with his handsome
+blushing eager face, agreed that he was quite right to save the poor
+bird, and that it would be all the better for the weaker part of
+creation generally if other men were more like him. While the various
+opinions were still in course of expression, the sound of the luncheon
+bell cleared the deck of the passengers, with two exceptions. One was
+the impetuous young man. The other was a middle-aged traveller, with a
+grizzled beard and a penetrating eye, who had silently observed the
+proceedings, and who now took the opportunity of introducing himself to
+the hero of the moment.
+
+"Are you not going to take any luncheon?" he asked.
+
+"No, sir. Among the people I have lived with we don't eat at intervals
+of three or four hours, all day long."
+
+"Will you excuse me," pursued the other, "if I own I should like to
+know _what_ people you have been living with? My name is Hethcote; I
+was associated, at one time of my life, with a college devoted to the
+training of young men. From what I have seen and heard this morning, I
+fancy you have not been educated on any of the recognized systems that
+are popular at the present day. Am I right?"
+
+The excitable young man suddenly became the picture of resignation, and
+answered in a formula of words as if he was repeating a lesson.
+
+"I am Claude-Amelius-Goldenheart. Aged twenty-one. Son, and only child,
+of the late Claude Goldenheart, of Shedfield Heath, Buckinghamshire,
+England. I have been brought up by the Primitive Christian Socialists,
+at Tadmor Community, State of Illinois. I have inherited an income of
+five hundred a year. And I am now, with the approval of the Community,
+going to London to see life."
+
+Mr. Hethcote received this copious flow of information, in some doubt
+whether he had been made the victim of coarse raillery, or whether he
+had merely heard a quaint statement of facts.
+
+Claude-Amelius-Goldenheart saw that he had produced an unfavourable
+impression, and hastened to set himself right.
+
+"Excuse me, sir," he said, "I am not making game of you, as you seem to
+suppose. We are taught to be courteous to everybody, in our Community.
+The truth is, there seems to be something odd about me (I'm sure I
+don't know what), which makes people whom I meet on my travels curious
+to know who I am. If you'll please to remember, it's a long way from
+Illinois to New York, and curious strangers are not scarce on the
+journey. When one is obliged to keep on saying the same thing over and
+over again, a form saves a deal of trouble. I have made a form for
+myself--which is respectfully at the disposal of any person who does me
+the honour to wish for my acquaintance. Will that do, sir? Very well,
+then; shake hands, to show you're satisfied."
+
+Mr. Hethcote shook hands, more than satisfied. He found it impossible
+to resist the bright honest brown eyes, the simple winning cordial
+manner of the young fellow with the quaint formula and the strange
+name. "Come, Mr. Goldenheart," he said, leading the way to a seat on
+deck, "let us sit down comfortably, and have a talk."
+
+"Anything you like, sir--but don't call me Mr. Goldenheart."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Well, it sounds formal. And, besides, you're old enough to be my
+father; it's _my_ duty to call _you_ Mister--or Sir, as we say to our
+elders at Tadmor. I have left all my friends behind me at the
+Community--and I feel lonely out here on this big ocean, among
+strangers. Do me a kindness, sir. Call me by my Christian name; and
+give me a friendly slap on the back if you find we get along smoothly
+in the course of the day."
+
+"Which of your names shall it be?" Mr. Hethcote asked, humouring this
+odd lad. "Claude?"
+
+"No. Not Claude. The Primitive Christians said Claude was a finicking
+French name. Call me Amelius, and I shall begin to feel at home again.
+If you're in a hurry, cut it down to three letters (as they did at
+Tadmor), and call me Mel."
+
+"Very good," said Mr. Hethcote. "Now, my friend Amelius (or Mel), I am
+going to speak out plainly, as you do. The Primitive Christian
+Socialists must have great confidence in their system of education, to
+turn you adrift in the world without a companion to look after you."
+
+"You've hit it, sir," Amelius answered coolly. "They have unlimited
+confidence in their system of education. And I'm a proof of it."
+
+"You have relations in London, I suppose?" Mr. Hethcote proceeded.
+
+For the first time the face of Amelius showed a shadow of sadness on
+it.
+
+"I have relations," he said. "But I have promised never to claim their
+hospitality. 'They are hard and worldly; and they will make you hard
+and worldly, too.' That's what my father said to me on his deathbed."
+He took off his hat when he mentioned his father's death, and came to a
+sudden pause--with his head bent down, like a man absorbed in thought.
+In less than a minute he put on his hat again, and looked up with his
+bright winning smile. "We say a little prayer for the loved ones who
+are gone, when we speak of them," he explained. "But we don't say it
+out loud, for fear of seeming to parade our religious convictions. We
+hate cant in our Community."
+
+"I cordially agree with the Community, Amelius. But, my good fellow,
+have you really no friend to welcome you when you get to London?"
+
+Amelius answered the question mysteriously. "Wait a little!" he
+said--and took a letter from the breast-pocket of his coat. Mr.
+Hethcote, watching him, observed that he looked at the address with
+unfeigned pride and pleasure.
+
+"One of our brethren at the Community has given me this," he announced.
+"It's a letter of introduction, sir, to a remarkable man--a man who is
+an example to all the rest of us. He has risen, by dint of integrity
+and perseverance, from the position of a poor porter in a shop to be
+one of the most respected mercantile characters in the City of London."
+
+With this explanation, Amelius handed his letter to Mr. Hethcote. It
+was addressed as follows:--
+
+         To John Farnaby, Esquire,
+         Messrs. Ronald & Farnaby,
+         Stationers,
+         Aldersgate Street, London.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 2
+
+Mr. Hethcote looked at the address on the letter with an expression of
+surprise, which did not escape the notice of Amelius. "Do you know Mr.
+Farnaby?" he asked.
+
+"I have some acquaintance with him," was the answer, given with a
+certain appearance of constraint.
+
+Amelius went on eagerly with his questions. "What sort of man is he? Do
+you think he will be prejudiced against me, because I have been brought
+up in Tadmor?"
+
+"I must be a little better acquainted, Amelius, with you and Tadmor
+before I can answer your question. Suppose you tell me how you became
+one of the Socialists, to begin with?"
+
+"I was only a little boy, Mr. Hethcote, at that time."
+
+"Very good. Even little boys have memories. Is there any objection to
+your telling me what you can remember?"
+
+Amelius answered rather sadly, with his eyes bent on the deck. "I
+remember something happening which threw a gloom over us at home in
+England. I heard that my mother was concerned in it. When I grew older,
+I never presumed to ask my father what it was; and he never offered to
+tell me. I only know this: that he forgave her some wrong she had done
+him, and let her go on living at home--and that relations and friends
+all blamed him, and fell away from him, from that time. Not long
+afterwards, while I was at school, my mother died. I was sent for, to
+follow her funeral with my father. When we got back, and were alone
+together, he took me on his knee and kissed me. 'Which will you do,
+Amelius,' he said; 'stay in England with your uncle and aunt? or come
+with me all the way to America, and never go back to England again?
+Take time to think of it.' I wanted no time to think of it; I said, 'Go
+with you, papa.' He frightened me by bursting out crying; it was the
+first time I had ever seen him in tears. I can understand it now. He
+had been cut to the heart, and had borne it like a martyr; and his boy
+was his one friend left. Well, by the end of the week we were on board
+the ship; and there we met a benevolent gentleman, with a long gray
+beard, who bade my father welcome, and presented me with a cake. In my
+ignorance, I thought he was the captain. Nothing of the sort. He was
+the first Socialist I had ever seen; and it was he who had persuaded my
+father to leave England."
+
+Mr. Hethcote's opinions of Socialists began to show themselves (a
+little sourly) in Mr. Hethcote's smile. "And how did you get on with
+this benevolent gentleman?" he asked. "After converting your father,
+did he convert you--with the cake?"
+
+Amelius smiled. "Do him justice, sir; he didn't trust to the cake. He
+waited till we were in sight of the American land--and then he preached
+me a little sermon, on our arrival, entirely for my own use."
+
+"A sermon?" Mr. Hethcote repeated. "Very little religion in it, I
+suspect."
+
+"Very little indeed, sir," Amelius answered. "Only as much religion as
+there is in the New Testament. I was not quite old enough to understand
+him easily--so he wrote down his discourse on the fly-leaf of a
+story-book I had with me, and gave it to me to read when I was tired of
+the stories. Stories were scarce with me in those days; and, when I had
+exhausted my little stock, rather than read nothing I read my
+sermon--read it so often that I think I can remember every word of it
+now. 'My dear little boy, the Christian religion, as Christ taught it,
+has long ceased to be the religion of the Christian world. A selfish
+and cruel Pretence is set up in its place. Your own father is one
+example of the truth of this saying of mine. He has fulfilled the first
+and foremost duty of a true Christian--the duty of forgiving an injury.
+For this, he stands disgraced in the estimation of all his friends:
+they have renounced and abandoned him. He forgives them, and seeks
+peace and good company in the New World, among Christians like himself.
+You will not repent leaving home with him; you will be one of a loving
+family, and, when you are old enough, you will be free to decide for
+yourself what your future life shall be.' That was all I knew about the
+Socialists, when we reached Tadmor after our long journey."
+
+Mr. Hethcote's prejudices made their appearance again. "A barren sort
+of place," he said, "judging by the name."
+
+"Barren? What can you be thinking of? A prettier place I never saw, and
+never expect to see again. A clear winding river, running into a little
+blue lake. A broad hill-side, all laid out in flower-gardens, and
+shaded by splendid trees. On the top of the hill, the buildings of the
+Community, some of brick and some of wood, so covered with creepers and
+so encircled with verandahs that I can't tell you to this day what
+style of architecture they were built in. More trees behind the
+houses--and, on the other side of the hill, cornfields, nothing but
+cornfields rolling away and away in great yellow plains, till they
+reached the golden sky and the setting sun, and were seen no more. That
+was our first view of Tadmor, when the stage-coach dropped us at the
+town."
+
+Mr. Hethcote still held out. "And what about the people who live in
+this earthly Paradise?" he asked. "Male and female saints--eh?"
+
+"Oh dear no, sir! The very opposite of saints. They eat and drink like
+their neighbours. They never think of wearing dirty horsehair when they
+can get clean linen. And when they are tempted to misconduct
+themselves, they find a better way out of it than knotting a cord and
+thrashing their own backs. Saints! They all ran out together to bid us
+welcome like a lot of school-children; the first thing they did was to
+kiss us, and the next thing was to give us a mug of wine of their own
+making. Saints! Oh, Mr. Hethcote, what will you accuse us of being
+next? I declare your suspicions of the poor Socialists keep cropping up
+again as fast as I cut them down. May I make a guess, sir, without
+offending you? From one or two things I have noticed, I strongly
+suspect you're a British clergyman."
+
+Mr. Hethcote was conquered at last: he burst out laughing. "You have
+discovered me," he said, "travelling in a coloured cravat and a
+shooting jacket! I confess I should like to know how."
+
+"It's easily explained, sir. Visitors of all sorts are welcome at
+Tadmor. We have a large experience of them in the travelling season.
+They all come with their own private suspicion of us lurking about the
+corners of their eyes. They see everything we have to show them, and
+eat and drink at our table, and join in our amusements, and get as
+pleasant and friendly with us as can be. The time comes to say
+goodbye--and then we find them out. If a guest who has been laughing
+and enjoying himself all day, suddenly becomes serious when he takes
+his leave, and shows that little lurking devil of suspicion again about
+the corners of his eyes--it's ten chances to one that he's a clergyman.
+No offence, Mr. Hethcote! I acknowledge with pleasure that the corners
+of _your_ eyes are clear again. You're not a very clerical clergyman,
+sir, after all--I don't despair of converting you, yet!"
+
+"Go on with your story, Amelius. You're the queerest fellow I have met
+with, for many a long day past."
+
+"I'm a little doubtful about going on with my story, sir. I have told
+you how I got to Tadmor, and what it looks like, and what sort of
+people live in the place. If I am to get on beyond that, I must jump to
+the time when I was old enough to learn the Rules of the Community."
+
+"Well--and what then?"
+
+"Well, Mr. Hethcote, some of the Rules might offend you."
+
+"Try!"
+
+"All right, sir! don't blame me; _I'm_ not ashamed of the Rules. And
+now, if I am to speak, I must speak seriously on a serious subject; I
+must begin with our religious principles. We find our Christianity in
+the spirit of the New Testament--not in the letter. We have three good
+reasons for objecting to pin our faith on the words alone, in that
+book. First, because we are not sure that the English translation is
+always to be depended on as accurate and honest. Secondly, because we
+know that (since the invention of printing) there is not a copy of the
+book in existence which is free from errors of the press, and that
+(before the invention of printing) those errors, in manuscript copies,
+must as a matter of course have been far more serious and far more
+numerous. Thirdly, because there is plain internal evidence (to say
+nothing of discoveries actually made in the present day) of
+interpolations and corruptions, introduced into the manuscript copies
+as they succeeded each other in ancient times. These drawbacks are of
+no importance, however, in our estimation. We find, in the spirit of
+the book, the most simple and most perfect system of religion and
+morality that humanity has ever received--and with that we are content.
+To reverence God; and to love our neighbour as ourselves: if we had
+only those two commandments to guide us, we should have enough. The
+whole collection of Doctrines (as they are called) we reject at once,
+without even stopping to discuss them. We apply to them the test
+suggested by Christ himself: by their fruits ye shall know them. The
+fruits of Doctrines, in the past (to quote three instances only), have
+been the Spanish Inquisition, the Massacre of St. Bartholomew, and the
+Thirty Years' War--and the fruits, in the present, are dissension,
+bigotry, and opposition to useful reforms. Away with Doctrines! In the
+interests of Christianity, away with them! We are to love our enemies;
+we are to forgive injuries; we are to help the needy; we are to be
+pitiful and courteous, slow to judge others, and ashamed to exalt
+ourselves. That teaching doesn't lead to tortures, massacres, and wars;
+to envy, hatred, and malice--and for that reason it stands revealed to
+us as the teaching that we can trust. There is our religion, sir, as we
+find it in the Rules of the Community."
+
+"Very well, Amelius. I notice, in passing, that the Community is in one
+respect like the Pope--the Community is infallible. We won't dwell on
+that. You have stated your principles. As to the application of them
+next? Nobody has a right to be rich among you, of course?"
+
+"Put it the other way, Mr. Hethcote. All men have a right to be
+rich--provided they don't make other people poor, as a part of the
+process. We don't trouble ourselves much about money; that's the truth.
+We are farmers, carpenters, weavers, and printers; and what we earn
+(ask our neighbours if we don't earn it honestly) goes into the common
+fund. A man who comes to us with money puts it into the fund, and so
+makes things easy for the next man who comes with empty pockets. While
+they are with us, they all live in the same comfort, and have their
+equal share in the same profits--deducting the sum in reverse for
+sudden calls and bad times. If they leave us, the man who has brought
+money with him has his undisputed right to take it away again; and the
+man who has brought none bids us good-bye, all the richer for his equal
+share in the profits which he has personally earned. The only fuss at
+our place about money that I can remember was the fuss about my five
+hundred a year. I wanted to hand it over to the fund. It was my own,
+mind--inherited from my mother's property, on my coming of age. The
+Elders wouldn't hear of it: the Council wouldn't hear of it: the
+general vote of the Community wouldn't hear of it. 'We agreed with his
+father that he should decide for himself, when he grew to
+manhood'--that was how they put it. 'Let him go back to the Old World;
+and let him be free to choose, by the test of his own experience, what
+his future life shall be.' How do you think it will end, Mr. Hethcote?
+Shall I return to the Community? Or shall I stop in London?"
+
+Mr. Hethcote answered, without a moment's hesitation. "You will stop in
+London."
+
+"I'll bet you two to one, Sir, he goes back to the Community."
+
+In those words, a third voice (speaking in a strong New England accent)
+insinuated itself into the conversation from behind. Amelius and Mr.
+Hethcote, looking round, discovered a long, lean, grave stranger--with
+his face overshadowed by a huge felt hat. "Have you been listening to
+our conversation?" Mr. Hethcote asked haughtily.
+
+"I have been listening," answered the grave stranger, "with
+considerable interest. This young man, I find, opens a new chapter to
+me in the book of humanity. Do you accept my bet, Sir? My name is Rufus
+Dingwell; and my home is at Coolspring, Mass. You do _not_ bet? I
+express my regret, and have the pleasure of taking a seat alongside of
+you. What is your name, Sir? Hethcote? We have one of that name at
+Coolspring. He is much respected. Mr. Claude A. Goldenheart, you are no
+stranger to me--no, Sir. I procured your name from the steward, when
+the little difficulty occurred just now about the bird. Your name
+considerably surprised me."
+
+"Why?" Amelius asked.
+
+"Well, sir--not to say that your surname (being Goldenheart) reminds
+one unexpectedly of _The Pilgrim's Progress_--I happen to be already
+acquainted with you. By reputation."
+
+Amelius looked puzzled. "By reputation?" he said. "What does that
+mean?"
+
+"It means, sir, that you occupy a prominent position in a recent number
+of our popular journal, entitled _The Coolspring Democrat._ The late
+romantic incident which caused the withdrawal of Miss Mellicent from
+your Community has produced a species of social commotion at
+Coolspring. Among our ladies, the tone of sentiment, Sir, is
+universally favourable to you. When I left, I do assure you, you were a
+popular character among us. The name of Claude A. Goldenheart was, so
+to speak, in everybody's mouth."
+
+Amelius listened to this, with the colour suddenly deepening on his
+face, and with every appearance of heartfelt annoyance and regret.
+"There is no such thing as keeping a secret in America," he said,
+irritably. "Some spy must have got among us; none of _our_ people would
+have exposed the poor lady to public comment. How would you like it,
+Mr. Dingwell, if the newspaper published the private sorrows of your
+wife or your daughter?"
+
+Rufus Dingwell answered with the straightforward sincerity of feeling
+which is one of the indisputable virtues of his nation. "I had not
+thought of it in that light, sir," he said. "You have been good enough
+to credit me with a wife or a daughter. I do not possess either of
+those ladies; but your argument hits me, notwithstanding--hits me hard,
+I tell you." He looked at Mr. Hethcote, who sat silently and stiffly
+disapproving of all this familiarity, and applied himself in perfect
+innocence and good faith to making things pleasant in that quarter.
+"You are a stranger, Sir," said Rufus; "and you will doubtless wish to
+peruse the article which is the subject of conversation?" He took a
+newspaper slip from his pocket-book, and offered it to the astonished
+Englishman. "I shall be glad to hear your sentiments, sir, on the view
+propounded by our mutual friend, Claude A. Goldenheart."
+
+Before Mr. Hethcote could reply, Amelius interposed in his own headlong
+way. "Give it to me! I want to read it first!"
+
+He snatched at the newspaper slip. Rufus checked him with grave
+composure. "I am of a cool temperament myself, sir; but that don't
+prevent me from admiring heat in others. Short of boiling point--mind
+that!" With this hint, the wise New Englander permitted Amelius to take
+possession of the printed slip.
+
+Mr. Hethcote, finding an opportunity of saying a word at last, asserted
+himself a little haughtily. "I beg you will both of you understand that
+I decline to read anything which relates to another person's private
+affairs."
+
+Neither the one nor the other of his companions paid the slightest heed
+to this announcement. Amelius was reading the newspaper extract, and
+placid Rufus was watching him. In another moment, he crumpled up the
+slip, and threw it indignantly on the deck. "It's as full of lies as it
+can hold!" he burst out.
+
+"It's all over the United States, by this time," Rufus remarked. "And I
+don't doubt we shall find the English papers have copied it, when we
+get to Liverpool. If you will take my advice, sir, you will cultivate a
+sagacious insensibility to the comments of the press."
+
+"Do you think I care for myself?" Amelius asked indignantly. "It's the
+poor woman I am thinking of. What can I do to clear her character?"
+
+"Well, sir," suggested Rufus, "in your place, I should have a
+notification circulated through the ship, announcing a lecture on the
+subject (weather permitting) in the course of the afternoon. That's the
+way we should do it at Coolspring."
+
+Amelius listened without conviction. "It's certainly useless to make a
+secret of the matter now," he said; "but I don't see my way to making
+it more public still." He paused, and looked at Mr. Hethcote. "It so
+happens, sir," he resumed, "that this unfortunate affair is an example
+of some of the Rules of our Community, which I had not had time to
+speak of, when Mr. Dingwell here joined us. It will be a relief to me
+to contradict these abominable falsehoods to somebody; and I should
+like (if you don't mind) to hear what you think of my conduct, from
+your own point of view. It might prepare me," he added, smiling rather
+uneasily, "for what I may find in the English newspapers."
+
+With these words of introduction he told his sad story--jocosely
+described in the newspaper heading as "Miss Mellicent and Goldenheart
+among the Socialists at Tadmor."
+
+
+CHAPTER 3
+
+"Nearly six months since," said Amelius, "we had notice by letter of
+the arrival of an unmarried English lady, who wished to become a member
+of our Community. You will understand my motive in keeping her family
+name a secret: even the newspaper has grace enough only to mention her
+by her Christian name. I don't want to cheat you out of your interest;
+so I will own at once that Miss Mellicent was not beautiful, and not
+young. When she came to us, she was thirty-eight years old, and time
+and trial had set their marks on her face plainly enough for anybody to
+see. Notwithstanding this, we all thought her an interesting woman. It
+might have been the sweetness of her voice; or perhaps it was something
+in her expression that took our fancy. There! I can't explain it; I can
+only say there were young women and pretty women at Tadmor who failed
+to win us as Miss Mellicent did. Contradictory enough, isn't it?"
+
+Mr. Hethcote said he understood the contradiction. Rufus put an
+appropriate question: "Do you possess a photograph of this lady, sir?"
+
+"No," said Amelius; "I wish I did. Well, we received her, on her
+arrival, in the Common Room--called so because we all assemble there
+every evening, when the work of the day is done. Sometimes we have the
+reading of a poem or a novel; sometimes debates on the social and
+political questions of the time in England and America; sometimes
+music, or dancing, or cards, or billiards, to amuse us. When a new
+member arrives, we have the ceremonies of introduction. I was close by
+the Elder Brother (that's the name we give to the chief of the
+Community) when two of the women led Miss Mellicent in. He's a hearty
+old fellow, who lived the first part of his life on his own clearing in
+one of the Western forests. To this day, he can't talk long, without
+showing, in one way or another, that his old familiarity with the trees
+still keeps its place in his memory. He looked hard at Miss Mellicent,
+under his shaggy old white eyebrows; and I heard him whisper to
+himself, 'Ah, dear me! Another of The Fallen Leaves!' I knew what he
+meant. The people who have drawn blanks in the lottery of life--the
+people who have toiled hard after happiness, and have gathered nothing
+but disappointment and sorrow; the friendless and the lonely, the
+wounded and the lost--these are the people whom our good Elder Brother
+calls The Fallen Leaves. I like the saying myself; it's a tender way of
+speaking of our poor fellow-creatures who are down in the world."
+
+He paused for a moment, looking out thoughtfully over the vast void of
+sea and sky. A passing shadow of sadness clouded his bright young face.
+The two elder men looked at him in silence, feeling (in widely
+different ways) the same compassionate interest. What was the life that
+lay before him? And--God help him!--what would he do with it?
+
+"Where did I leave off?" he asked, rousing himself suddenly.
+
+"You left Miss Mellicent, sir, in the Common Room--the venerable
+citizen with the white eyebrows being suitably engaged in moralizing on
+her." In those terms the ever-ready Rufus set the story going again.
+
+"Quite right," Amelius resumed. "There she was, poor thing, a little
+thin timid creature, in a white dress, with a black scarf over her
+shoulders, trembling and wondering in a room full of strangers. The
+Elder Brother took her by the hand, and kissed her on the forehead, and
+bade her heartily welcome in the name of the Community. Then the women
+followed his example, and the men all shook hands with her. And then
+our chief put the three questions, which he is bound to address to all
+new arrivals when they join us: 'Do you come here of your own free
+will? Do you bring with you a written recommendation from one of our
+brethren, which satisfies us that we do no wrong to ourselves or to
+others in receiving you? Do you understand that you are not bound to us
+by vows, and that you are free to leave us again if the life here is
+not agreeable to you?' Matters being settled so far, the reading of the
+Rules, and the Penalties imposed for breaking them, came next. Some of
+the Rules you know already; others of smaller importance I needn't
+trouble you with. As for the Penalties, if you incur the lighter ones,
+you are subject to public rebuke, or to isolation for a time from the
+social life of the Community. If you incur the heavier ones, you are
+either sent out into the world again for a given period, to return or
+not as you please; or you are struck off the list of members, and
+expelled for good and all. Suppose these preliminaries agreed to by
+Miss Mellicent with silent submission, and let us go on to the close of
+the ceremony--the reading of the Rules which settle the questions of
+Love and Marriage."
+
+"Aha!" said Mr. Hethcote, "we are coming to the difficulties of the
+Community at last!"
+
+"Are we also coming to Miss Mellicent, sir?" Rufus inquired. "As a
+citizen of a free country in which I can love in one State, marry in
+another, and be divorced in a third, I am not interested in your
+Rules--I am interested in your Lady."
+
+"The two are inseparable in this case," Amelius answered gravely. "If I
+am to speak of Miss Mellicent, I must speak of the Rules; you will soon
+see why. Our Community becomes a despotism, gentlemen, in dealing with
+love and marriage. For example, it positively prohibits any member
+afflicted with hereditary disease from marrying at all; and it reserves
+to itself, in the case of every proposed marriage among us, the right
+of permitting or forbidding it, in council. We can't even fall in love
+with each other, without being bound, under penalties, to report it to
+the Elder Brother; who, in his turn, communicates it to the monthly
+council; who, in their turn, decide whether the courtship may go on or
+not. That's not the worst of it, even yet! In some cases--where we
+haven't the slightest intention of falling in love with each other--the
+governing body takes the initiative. 'You two will do well to marry; we
+see it, if you don't. Just think of it, will you?' You may laugh; some
+of our happiest marriages have been made in that way. Our governors in
+council act on an established principle: here it is in a nutshell. The
+results of experience in the matter of marriage, all over the world,
+show that a really wise choice of a husband or a wife is an exception
+to the rule; and that husbands and wives in general would be happier
+together if their marriages were managed for them by competent advisers
+on either side. Laws laid down on such lines as these, and others
+equally strict, which I have not mentioned yet, were not put in force,
+Mr. Hethcote, as you suppose, without serious difficulties--
+difficulties which threatened the very existence of the Community. But
+that was before my time. When I grew up, I found the husbands and wives
+about me content to acknowledge that the Rules fulfilled the purpose
+with which they had been made--the greatest happiness of the greatest
+number. It all looks very absurd, I dare say, from your point of view.
+But these queer regulations of ours answer the Christian test--by their
+fruits ye shall know them. Our married people don't live on separate
+sides of the house; our children are all healthy; wife-beating is
+unknown among us; and the practice in our divorce court wouldn't keep
+the most moderate lawyer on bread and cheese. Can you say as much for
+the success of the marriage laws in Europe? I leave you, gentlemen, to
+form your own opinions."
+
+Mr. Hethcote declined to express an opinion. Rufus declined to resign
+his interest in the lady. "And what did Miss Mellicent say to it?" he
+inquired.
+
+"She said something that startled us all," Amelius replied. "When the
+Elder Brother began to read the first words relating to love and
+marriage in the Book of Rules, she turned deadly pale; and rose up in
+her place with a sudden burst of courage or desperation--I don't know
+which. 'Must you read that to me?' she asked. 'I have nothing to do
+with love or marriage.' The Elder Brother laid aside his Book of Rules.
+'If you are afflicted with an hereditary malady,' he said, 'the doctor
+from the town will examine you, and report to us.' She answered, 'I
+have no hereditary malady.' The Elder Brother took up his book again.
+'In due course of time, my dear, the Council will decide for you
+whether you are to love and marry or not.' And he read the Rules. She
+sat down again, and hid her face in her hands, and never moved or spoke
+until he had done. The regular questions followed. Had she anything to
+say, in the way of objection? Nothing! In that case, would she sign the
+Rules? Yes! When the time came for supper, she excused herself, just
+like a child. 'I feel very tired; may I go to bed?' The unmarried women
+in the same dormitory with her anticipated some romantic confession
+when she grew used to her new friends. They proved to be wrong. 'My
+life has been one long disappointment,' was all she said. 'You will do
+me a kindness if you will take me as I am, and not ask me to talk about
+myself.' There was nothing sulky or ungracious in the expression of her
+wish to keep her own secret. A kinder and sweeter woman--never thinking
+of herself, always considerate of others--never lived. An accidental
+discovery made me her chief friend, among the men: it turned out that
+her childhood had been passed, where my childhood had been passed, at
+Shedfield Heath, in Buckinghamshire. She was never weary of consulting
+my boyish recollections, and comparing them with her own. 'I love the
+place,' she used to say; 'the only happy time of my life was the time
+passed there.' On my sacred word of honour, this was the sort of talk
+that passed between us, for week after week. What other talk could pass
+between a man whose one and twentieth birthday was then near at hand,
+and a woman who was close on forty? What could I do, when the poor,
+broken, disappointed creature met me on the hill or by the river, and
+said, 'You are going out for a walk; may I come with you?' I never
+attempted to intrude myself into her confidence; I never even asked her
+why she had joined the Community. You see what is coming, don't you?
+_I_ never saw it. I didn't know what it meant, when some of the younger
+women, meeting us together, looked at me (not at her), and smiled
+maliciously. My stupid eyes were opened at last by the woman who slept
+in the next bed to her in the dormitory--a woman old enough to be my
+mother, who took care of me when I was a child at Tadmor. She stopped
+me one morning, on my way to fish in the river. 'Amelius,' she said,
+'don't go to the fishing-house; Mellicent is waiting for you.' I stared
+at her in astonishment. She held up her finger at me: 'Take care, you
+foolish boy! You are drifting into a false position as fast as you can.
+Have you no suspicion of what is going on?' I looked all round me, in
+search of what was going on. Nothing out of the common was to be seen
+anywhere. 'What can you possibly mean?' I asked. 'You will only laugh
+at me, if I tell you,' she said. I promised not to laugh. She too
+looked all round her, as if she was afraid of somebody being near
+enough to hear us; and then she let out the secret. 'Amelius, ask for a
+holiday--and leave us for a while. Mellicent is in love with you.'"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 4
+
+Amelius looked at his companions, in some doubt whether they would
+preserve their gravity at this critical point in his story. They both
+showed him that his apprehensions were well founded. He was a little
+hurt, and he instantly revealed it. "I own to my shame that I burst out
+laughing myself," he said. "But you two gentlemen are older and wiser
+than I am. I didn't expect to find you just as ready to laugh at poor
+Miss Mellicent as I was."
+
+Mr. Hethcote declined to be reminded of his duties as a middle-aged
+gentleman in this backhanded manner. "Gently, Amelius! You can't expect
+to persuade us that a laughable thing is not a thing to be laughed at.
+A woman close on forty who falls in love with a young fellow of
+twenty-one--"
+
+"Is a laughable circumstance," Rufus interposed. "Whereas a man of
+forty who fancies a young woman of twenty-one is all in the order of
+Nature. The men have settled it so. But why the women are to give up so
+much sooner than the men is a question, sir, on which I have long
+wished to hear the sentiments of the women themselves."
+
+Mr. Hethcote dismissed the sentiments of the women with a wave of his
+hand. "Let us hear the rest of it, Amelius. Of course you went on to
+the fishing-house? And of course you found Miss Mellicent there?"
+
+"She came to the door to meet me, much as usual," Amelius resumed, "and
+suddenly checked herself in the act of shaking hands with me. I can
+only suppose she saw something in my face that startled her. How it
+happened, I can't say; but I felt my good spirits forsake me the moment
+I found myself in her presence. I doubt if she had ever seen me so
+serious before. 'Have I offended you?' she asked. Of course, I denied
+it; but I failed to satisfy her. She began to tremble. 'Has somebody
+said something against me? Are you weary of my company?' Those were the
+next questions. It was useless to say No. Some perverse distrust of me,
+or some despair of herself, overpowered her on a sudden. She sank down
+on the floor of the fishing-house, and began to cry--not a good hearty
+burst of tears; a silent, miserable, resigned sort of crying, as if she
+had lost all claim to be pitied, and all right to feel wounded or hurt.
+I was so distressed, that I thought of nothing but consoling her. I
+meant well, and I acted like a fool. A sensible man would have lifted
+her up, I suppose, and left her to herself. I lifted her up, and put my
+arm round her waist. She looked at me as I did it. For just a moment, I
+declare she became twenty years younger! She blushed as I have never
+seen a woman blush before or since--the colour flowed all over her neck
+as well as her face. Before I could say a word, she caught hold of my
+hand, and (of all the confusing things in the world!) kissed it. 'No!'
+she cried, 'don't despise me! don't laugh at me! Wait, and hear what my
+life has been, and then you will understand why a little kindness
+overpowers me.' She looked round the corner of the fishing-house
+suspiciously. 'I don't want anybody else to hear us,' she said, 'all
+the pride isn't beaten out of me yet. Come to the lake, and row me
+about in the boat.' I took her out in the boat. Nobody could hear us
+certainly; but she forgot, and I forgot, that anybody might see us, and
+that appearances on the lake might lead to false conclusions on shore."
+
+Mr. Hethcote and Rufus exchanged significant looks. They had not
+forgotten the Rules of the Community, when two of its members showed a
+preference for each other's society.
+
+Amelius proceeded. "Well, there we were on the lake. I paddled with the
+oars, and she opened her whole heart to me. Her troubles had begun, in
+a very common way, with her mother's death and her father's second
+marriage. She had a brother and a sister--the sister married a German
+merchant, settled in New York; the brother comfortably established as a
+sheep-farmer in Australia. So, you see, she was alone at home, at the
+mercy of the step-mother. I don't understand these cases myself, but
+people who do, tell me that there are generally faults on both sides.
+To make matters worse, they were a poor family; the one rich relative
+being a sister of the first wife, who disapproved of the widower
+marrying again, and never entered the house afterwards. Well, the
+step-mother had a sharp tongue, and Mellicent was the first person to
+feel the sting of it. She was reproached with being an encumbrance on
+her father, when she ought to be doing something for herself. There was
+no need to repeat those harsh words. The next day she answered an
+advertisement. Before the week was over, she was earning her bread as a
+daily governess."
+
+Here Rufus stopped the narrative, having an interesting question to
+put. "Might I inquire, sir, what her salary was?"
+
+"Thirty pounds a year," Amelius replied. "She was out teaching from
+nine o'clock to two--and then went home again."
+
+"There seems to be nothing to complain of in that, as salaries go," Mr.
+Hethcote remarked.
+
+"She made no complaint," Amelius rejoined. "She was satisfied with her
+salary; but she wasn't satisfied with her life. The meek little woman
+grew downright angry when she spoke of it. 'I had no reason to complain
+of my employers,' she said. 'I was civilly treated and punctually paid;
+but I never made friends of them. I tried to make friends of the
+children; and sometimes I thought I had succeeded--but, oh dear, when
+they were idle, and I was obliged to keep them to their lessons, I soon
+found how little hold I had on the love that I wanted them to give me.
+We see children in books who are perfect little angels; never envious
+or greedy or sulky or deceitful; always the same sweet, pious, tender,
+grateful, innocent creatures--and it has been my misfortune never to
+meet with them, go where I might! It is a hard world, Amelius, the
+world that I have lived in. I don't think there are such miserable
+lives anywhere as the lives led by the poor middle classes in England.
+From year's end to year's end, the one dreadful struggle to keep up
+appearances, and the heart-breaking monotony of an existence without
+change. We lived in the back street of a cheap suburb. I declare to you
+we had but one amusement in the whole long weary year--the annual
+concert the clergyman got up, in aid of his schools. The rest of the
+year it was all teaching for the first half of the day, and needlework
+for the young family for the other half. My father had religious
+scruples; he prohibited theatres, he prohibited dancing and light
+reading; he even prohibited looking in at the shop-windows, because we
+had no money to spare and they tempted us to buy. He went to business
+in the morning, and came back at night, and fell asleep after dinner,
+and woke up and read prayers--and next day to business and back, and
+sleeping and waking and reading prayers--and no break in it, week after
+week, month after month, except on Sunday, which was always the same
+Sunday; the same church, the same service, the same dinner, the same
+book of sermons in the evening. Even when we had a fortnight once a
+year at the seaside, we always went to the same place and lodged in the
+same cheap house. The few friends we had led just the same lives, and
+were beaten down flat by just the same monotony. All the women seemed
+to submit to it contentedly except my miserable self. I wanted so
+little! Only a change now and then; only a little sympathy when I was
+weary and sick at heart; only somebody whom I could love and serve, and
+be rewarded with a smile and a kind word in return. Mothers shook their
+heads, and daughters laughed at me. Have we time to be sentimental?
+Haven't we enough to do, darning and mending, and turning our dresses,
+and making the joint last as long as possible, and keeping the children
+clean, and doing the washing at home--and tea and sugar rising, and my
+husband grumbling every week when I have to ask him for the
+house-money. Oh, no more of it! no more of it! People meant for better
+things all ground down to the same sordid and selfish level--is that a
+pleasant sight to contemplate? I shudder when I think of the last
+twenty years of my life!' That's what she complained of, Mr. Hethcote,
+in the solitary middle of the lake, with nobody but me to hear her."
+
+"In my country, sir," Rufus remarked, "the Lecture Bureau would have
+provided for her amusement, on economical terms. And I reckon, if a
+married life would fix her, she might have tried it among Us by way of
+a change."
+
+"That's the saddest part of the story," said Amelius. "There came a
+time, only two years ago, when her prospects changed for the better.
+Her rich aunt (her mother's sister) died; and--what do you think?--left
+her a legacy of six thousand pounds. There was a gleam of sunshine in
+her life! The poor teacher was an heiress in a small way, with her
+fortune at her own disposal. They had something like a festival at
+home, for the first time; presents to everybody, and kissings and
+congratulations, and new dresses at last. And, more than that, another
+wonderful event happened before long. A gentleman made his appearance
+in the family circle, with an interesting object in view--a gentleman,
+who had called at the house in which she happened to be employed as
+teacher at the time, and had seen her occupied with her pupils. He had
+kept it to himself to be sure, but he had secretly admired her from
+that moment--and now it had come out! She had never had a lover before;
+mind that. And he was a remarkably handsome man: dressed beautifully,
+and sang and played, and was so humble and devoted with it all. Do you
+think it wonderful that she said Yes, when he proposed to marry her? I
+don't think it wonderful at all. For the first few weeks of the
+courtship, the sunshine was brighter than ever. Then the clouds began
+to rise. Anonymous letters came, describing the handsome gentleman
+(seen under his fair surface) as nothing less than a scoundrel. She
+tore up the letters indignantly--she was too delicate even to show them
+to him. Signed letters came next, addressed to her father by an uncle
+and an aunt, both containing one and the same warning: 'If your
+daughter insists on having him, tell her to take care of her money.' A
+few days later, a visitor arrived--a brother, who spoke out more
+plainly still. As an honourable man, he could not hear of what was
+going on, without making the painful confession that his brother was
+forbidden to enter his house. That said, he washed his hands of all
+further responsibility. You two know the world, you will guess how it
+ended. Quarrels in the household; the poor middle-aged woman, living in
+her fool's paradise, blindly true to her lover; convinced that he was
+foully wronged; frantic when he declared that he would not connect
+himself with a family which suspected him. Ah, I have no patience when
+I think of it, and I almost wish I had never begun to tell the story!
+Do you know what he did? She was free of course, at her age, to decide
+for herself; there was no controlling her. The wedding day was fixed.
+Her father had declared he would not sanction it; and her step-mother
+kept him to his word. She went alone to the church, to meet her
+promised husband. He never appeared; he deserted her, mercilessly
+deserted her--after she had sacrificed her own relations to him--on her
+wedding-day. She was taken home insensible, and had a brain fever. The
+doctors declined to answer for her life. Her father thought it time to
+look to her banker's pass-book. Out of her six thousand pounds she had
+privately given no less than four thousand to the scoundrel who had
+deceived and forsaken her! Not a month afterwards he married a young
+girl--with a fortune of course. We read of such things in newspapers
+and books. But to have them brought home to one, after living one's own
+life among honest people--I tell you it stupefied me!"
+
+He said no more. Below them in the cabin, voices were laughing and
+talking, to a cheerful accompaniment of clattering knives and forks.
+Around them spread the exultant glory of sea and sky. All that they
+heard, all that they saw, was cruelty out of harmony with the miserable
+story which had just reached its end. With one accord the three men
+rose and paced the deck, feeling physically the same need of some
+movement to lighten their spirits. With one accord they waited a
+little, before the narrative was resumed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 5
+
+Mr. Hethcote was the first to speak again.
+
+"I can understand the poor creature's motive in joining your
+Community," he said. "To a person of any sensibility her position,
+among such relatives as you describe, must have been simply unendurable
+after what had happened. How did she hear of Tadmor and the
+Socialists?"
+
+"She had read one of our books," Amelius answered; "and she had her
+married sister at New York to go to. There were moments, after her
+recovery (she confessed it to me frankly), when the thought of suicide
+was in her mind. Her religious scruples saved her. She was kindly
+received by her sister and her sister's husband. They proposed to keep
+her with them to teach their children. No! the new life offered to her
+was too like the old life--she was broken in body and mind; she had no
+courage to face it. We have a resident agent in New York; and he
+arranged for her journey to Tadmor. There is a gleam of brightness, at
+any rate, in this part of her story. She blessed the day, poor soul,
+when she joined us. Never before had she found herself among such
+kind-hearted, unselfish, simple people. Never before--" he abruptly
+checked himself, and looked a little confused.
+
+Obliging Rufus finished the sentence for him. "Never before had she
+known a young man with such natural gifts of fascination as C.A.G.
+Don't you be too modest, sir; it doesn't pay, I assure you, in the
+nineteenth century."
+
+Amelius was not as ready with his laugh as usual. "I wish I could drop
+it at the point we have reached now," he said. "But she has left
+Tadmor; and, in justice to her (after the scandals in the newspaper), I
+must tell you how she left it, and why. The mischief began when I was
+helping her out of the boat. Two of our young women met us on the bank
+of the lake, and asked me how I got on with my fishing. They didn't
+mean any harm--they were only in their customary good spirits. Still,
+there was no mistaking their looks and tones when they put the
+question. Miss Mellicent, in her confusion, made matters worse. She
+coloured up, and snatched her hand out of mine, and ran back to the
+house by herself. The girls, enjoying their own foolish joke,
+congratulated me on my prospects. I must have been out of sorts in some
+way--upset, perhaps, by what I had heard in the boat. Anyhow, I lost my
+temper, and _I_ made matters worse, next. I said some angry words, and
+left them. The same evening I found a letter in my room. 'For your
+sake, I must not be seen alone with you again. It is hard to lose the
+comfort of your sympathy, but I must submit. Think of me as kindly as I
+think of you. It has done me good to open my heart to you.' Only those
+lines, signed by Mellicent's initials. I was rash enough to keep the
+letter, instead of destroying it. All might have ended well,
+nevertheless, if she had only held to her resolution. But, unluckily,
+my twenty-first birthday was close at hand; and there was talk of
+keeping it as a festival in the Community. I was up with sunrise when
+the day came; having some farming work to look after, and wanting to
+get it over in good time. My shortest way back to breakfast was through
+a wood. In the wood I met her."
+
+"Alone?" Mr. Hethcote asked.
+
+Rufus expressed his opinion of the wisdom of putting this question with
+his customary plainness of language. "When there's a rash thing to be
+done by a man and a woman together, sir, philosophers have remarked
+that it's always the woman who leads the way. Of course she was alone."
+
+"She had a little present for me on my birthday," Amelius explained--"a
+purse of her own making. And she was afraid of the ridicule of the
+young women, if she gave it to me openly. 'You have my heart's dearest
+wishes for your happiness; think of me sometimes, Amelius, when you
+open your purse.' If you had been in my place, could you have told her
+to go away, when she said that, and put her gift into your hand? Not if
+she had been looking at you at the moment--I'll swear you couldn't have
+done it!"
+
+The lean yellow face of Rufus Dingwell relaxed for the first time into
+a broad grin. "There are further particulars, sir, stated in the
+newspaper," he said slily.
+
+"Damn the newspaper!" Amelius answered.
+
+Rufus bowed, serenely courteous, with the air of a man who accepted a
+British oath as an unwilling compliment paid by the old country to the
+American press. "The newspaper report states, sir, that she kissed
+you."
+
+"It's a lie!" Amelius shouted.
+
+"Perhaps it's an error of the press," Rufus persisted. "Perhaps, _you_
+kissed _her?"_
+
+"Never mind what I did," said Amelius savagely.
+
+Mr. Hethcote felt it necessary to interfere. He addressed Rufus in his
+most magnificent manner. "In England, Mr. Dingwell, a gentleman is not
+in the habit of disclosing these--er--these--er, er--"
+
+"These kissings in a wood?" suggested Rufus. "In my country, sir, we do
+not regard kissing, in or out of a wood, in the light of a shameful
+proceeding. Quite the contrary, I do assure you."
+
+Amelius recovered his temper. The discussion was becoming too
+ridiculous to be endured by the unfortunate person who was the object
+of it.
+
+"Don't let us make mountains out of molehills," he said. "I did kiss
+her--there! A woman pressing the prettiest little purse you ever saw
+into your hand, and wishing you many happy returns of the day with the
+tears in her eyes; I should like to know what else was to be done but
+to kiss her. Ah, yes, smooth out your newspaper report, and have
+another look at it! She _did_ rest her head on my shoulder, poor soul,
+and she _did_ say, 'Oh, Amelius, I thought my heart was turned to
+stone; feel how you have made it beat!' When I remembered what she had
+told me in the boat, I declare to God I almost burst out crying
+myself--it was so innocent and so pitiful."
+
+Rufus held out his hand with true American cordiality. "I do assure
+you, sir, I meant no harm," he said. "The right grit is in you, and no
+mistake--and there goes the newspaper!" He rolled up the slip, and
+flung it overboard.
+
+Mr. Hethcote nodded his entire approval of this proceeding. Amelius
+went on with his story.
+
+"I'm near the end now," he said. "If I had known it would have taken so
+long to tell--never mind! We got out of the wood at last, Mr. Rufus;
+and left it without a suspicion that we had been watched. I was prudent
+enough (when it was too late, you will say) to suggest to her that we
+had better be careful for the future. Instead of taking it seriously,
+she laughed. 'Have you altered your mind, since you wrote to me?' I
+asked. 'To be sure I have,' she said. 'When I wrote to you I forgot the
+difference between your age and mine. Nothing that _we_ do will be
+taken seriously. I am afraid of their laughing at me, Amelius; but I am
+afraid of nothing else.' I did my best to undeceive her. I told her
+plainly that people unequally matched in years--women older than men,
+as well as men older than women--were not uncommonly married among us.
+The council only looked to their being well suited in other ways, and
+declined to trouble itself about the question of age. I don't think I
+produced much effect; she seemed, for once in her life, poor thing, to
+be too happy to look beyond the passing moment. Besides, there was the
+birthday festival to keep her mind from dwelling on doubts and fears
+that were not agreeable to her. And the next day there was another
+event to occupy our attention--the arrival of the lawyer's letter from
+London, with the announcement of my inheritance on coming of age. It
+was settled, as you know, that I was to go out into the world, and to
+judge for myself; but the date of my departure was not fixed. Two days
+later, the storm that had been gathering for weeks past burst on us--we
+were cited to appear before the council to answer for an infraction of
+the Rules. Everything that I have confessed to you, and some things
+besides that I have kept to myself, lay formally inscribed on a sheet
+of paper placed on the council table--and pinned to the sheet of paper
+was Mellicent's letter to me, found in my room. I took the whole blame
+on myself, and insisted on being confronted with the unknown person who
+had informed against us. The council met this by a question:--'Is the
+information, in any particular, false?' Neither of us could deny that
+it was, in every particular, true. Hearing this, the council decided
+that there was no need, on our own showing, to confront us with the
+informer. From that day to this, I have never known who the spy was.
+Neither Mellicent nor I had an enemy in the Community. The girls who
+had seen us on the lake, and some other members who had met us
+together, only gave their evidence on compulsion--and even then they
+prevaricated, they were so fond of us and so sorry for us. After
+waiting a day, the governing body pronounced their judgment. Their duty
+was prescribed to them by the Rules. We were sentenced to six months'
+absence from the Community; to return or not as we pleased. A hard
+sentence, gentlemen--whatever _we_ may think of it--to homeless and
+friendless people, to the Fallen Leaves that had drifted to Tadmor. In
+my case it had been already arranged that I was to leave. After what
+had happened, my departure was made compulsory in four-and-twenty
+hours; and I was forbidden to return, until the date of my sentence had
+expired. In Mellicent's case they were still more strict. They would
+not trust her to travel by herself. A female member of the Community
+was appointed to accompany her to the house of her married sister at
+New York: she was ordered to be ready for the journey by sunrise the
+next morning. We both understood, of course, that the object of this
+was to prevent our travelling together. They might have saved
+themselves the trouble of putting obstacles in our way."
+
+"So far as You were concerned, I suppose?" said Mr. Hethcote.
+
+"So far as She was concerned also," Amelius answered.
+
+"How did she take it, sir?" Rufus inquired.
+
+"With a composure that astonished us all," said Amelius. "We had
+anticipated tears and entreaties for mercy. She stood up perfectly
+calm, far calmer than I was, with her head turned towards me, and her
+eyes resting quietly on my face. If you can imagine a woman whose whole
+being was absorbed in looking into the future; seeing what no mortal
+creature about her saw; sustained by hopes that no mortal creature
+about her could share--you may see her as I did, when she heard her
+sentence pronounced. The members of the Community, accustomed to take
+leave of an erring brother or sister with loving and merciful words,
+were all more or less distressed as they bade her farewell. Most of the
+women were in tears as they kissed her. They said the same kind words
+to her over and over again. 'We are heartily sorry for you, dear; we
+shall all be glad to welcome you back.' They sang our customary hymn at
+parting--and broke down before they got to the end. It was _she_ who
+consoled _them!_ Not once, through all that melancholy ceremony, did
+she lose her strange composure, her rapt mysterious look. I was the
+last to say farewell; and I own I couldn't trust myself to speak. She
+held my hand in hers. For a moment, her face lighted up softly with a
+radiant smile--then the strange preoccupied expression flowed over her
+again, like shadow over a light. Her eyes, still looking into mine,
+seemed to look beyond me. She spoke low, in sad steady tones. 'Be
+comforted, Amelius; the end is not yet.' She put her hands on my head,
+and drew it down to her. 'You will come back to me,' she whispered--and
+kissed me on the forehead, before them all. When I looked up again, she
+was gone. I have neither seen her nor heard from her since. It's all
+told, gentlemen--and some of it has distressed me in the telling. Let
+me go away for a minute by myself, and look at the sea."
+
+
+
+BOOK THE SECOND
+
+AMELIUS IN LONDON
+
+CHAPTER 1
+
+Oh, Rufus Dingwell, it is such a rainy day! And the London street which
+I look out on from my hotel window presents such a dirty and such a
+miserable view! Do you know, I hardly feel like the same Amelius who
+promised to write to you when you left the steamer at Queenstown. My
+spirits are sinking; I begin to feel old. Am I in the right state of
+mind to tell you what are my first impressions of London? Perhaps I may
+alter my opinion. At present (this is between ourselves), I don't like
+London or London people--excepting two ladies, who, in very different
+ways, have interested and charmed me.
+
+Who are the ladies? I must tell you what I heard about them from Mr.
+Hethcote, before I present them to you on my own responsibility.
+
+After you left us, I found the last day of the voyage to Liverpool dull
+enough. Mr. Hethcote did not seem to feel it in the same way: on the
+contrary, he grew more familiar and confidential in his talk with me.
+He has some of the English stiffness, you see, and your American pace
+was a little too fast for him. On our last night on board, we had some
+more conversation about the Farnabys. You were not interested enough in
+the subject to attend to what he said about them while you were with
+us; but if you are to be introduced to the ladies, you must be
+interested now. Let me first inform you that Mr. and Mrs. Farnaby have
+no children; and let me add that they have adopted the daughter and
+orphan child of Mrs. Farnaby's sister. This sister, it seems, died many
+years ago, surviving her husband for a few months only. To complete the
+story of the past, death has also taken old Mr. Ronald, the founder of
+the stationer's business, and his wife, Mrs. Farnaby's mother. Dry
+facts these--I don't deny it; but there is something more interesting
+to follow. I have next to tell you how Mr. Hethcote first became
+acquainted with Mrs. Farnaby. Now, Rufus, we are coming to something
+romantic at last!
+
+It is some time since Mr. Hethcote ceased to perform his clerical
+duties, owing to a malady in the throat, which made it painful for him
+to take his place in the reading-desk or the pulpit. His last curacy
+attached him to a church at the West-end of London; and here, one
+Sunday evening, after he had preached the sermon, a lady in trouble
+came to him in the vestry for spiritual advice and consolation. She was
+a regular attendant at the church, and something which he had said in
+that evening's sermon had deeply affected her. Mr. Hethcote spoke with
+her afterwards on many occasions at home. He felt a sincere interest in
+her, but he disliked her husband; and, when he gave up his curacy, he
+ceased to pay visits to the house. As to what Mrs. Farnaby's troubles
+were, I can tell you nothing. Mr. Hethcote spoke very gravely and sadly
+when he told me that the subject of his conversations with her must be
+kept a secret. "I doubt whether you and Mr. Farnaby will get on well
+together," he said to me; "but I shall be astonished if you are not
+favourably impressed by his wife and her niece."
+
+This was all I knew when I presented my letter of introduction to Mr.
+Farnaby at his place of business.
+
+It was a grand stone building, with great plate-glass windows--all
+renewed and improved, they told me, since old Mr. Ronald's time. My
+letter and my card went into an office at the back, and I followed them
+after a while. A lean, hard, middle-aged man, buttoned up tight in a
+black frock-coat, received me, holding my written introduction open in
+his hand. He had a ruddy complexion not commonly seen in Londoners, so
+far as my experience goes. His iron-gray hair and whiskers (especially
+the whiskers) were in wonderfully fine order--as carefully oiled and
+combed as if he had just come out of a barber's shop. I had been in the
+morning to the Zoological Gardens; his eyes, when he lifted them from
+the letter to me, reminded me of the eyes of the eagles--glassy and
+cruel. I have a fault that I can't cure myself of. I like people, or
+dislike them, at first sight, without knowing, in either case, whether
+they deserve it or not. In the one moment when our eyes met, I felt the
+devil in me. In plain English, I hated Mr. Farnaby!
+
+"Good morning, sir," he began, in a loud, harsh, rasping voice. "The
+letter you bring me takes me by surprise."
+
+"I thought the writer was an old friend of yours," I said.
+
+"An old friend of mine," Mr. Farnaby answered, "whose errors I deplore.
+When he joined your Community, I looked upon him as a lost man. I am
+surprised at his writing to me."
+
+It is quite likely I was wrong, knowing nothing of the usages of
+society in England. I thought this reception of me downright rude. I
+had laid my hat on a chair; I took it up in my hand again, and
+delivered a parting shot at the brute with the oily whiskers.
+
+"If I had known what you now tell me," I said, "I should not have
+troubled you by presenting that letter. Good morning."
+
+This didn't in the least offend him. A curious smile broke out on his
+face; it widened his eyes, and it twitched up his mouth at one corner.
+He held out his hand to stop me. I waited, in case he felt bound to
+make an apology. He did nothing of the sort--he only made a remark.
+
+"You are young and hasty," he said. "I may lament my friend's
+extravagances, without failing on that account in what is due to an old
+friendship. You are probably not aware that we have no sympathy in
+England with Socialists."
+
+I hit him back again. "In that case, sir, a little Socialism in England
+would do you no harm. We consider it a part of our duty as Christians
+to feel sympathy with all men who are honest in their convictions--no
+matter how mistaken (in our opinion) the convictions may be." I rather
+thought I had him there; and I took up my hat again, to get off with
+the honours of victory while I had the chance.
+
+I am sincerely ashamed of myself, Rufus, in telling you all this. I
+ought to have given him back "the soft answer that turneth away
+wrath"--my conduct was a disgrace to my Community. What evil influence
+was at work in me? Was it the air of London? or was it a possession of
+the devil?
+
+He stopped me for the second time--not in the least disconcerted by
+what I had said to him. His inbred conviction of his own superiority to
+a young adventurer like me was really something magnificent to witness.
+He did me justice--the Philistine-Pharisee did me justice! Will you
+believe it? He made his remarks next on my good points, as if I had
+been a young bull at a prize cattle show.
+
+"Excuse me for noticing it," he said. "Your manners are perfectly
+gentlemanlike, and you speak English without any accent. And yet you
+have been brought up in America. What does it mean?"
+
+I grew worse and worse--I got downright sulky now.
+
+"I suppose it means," I answered, "that some of us, in America,
+cultivate ourselves as well as our land. We have our books and music,
+though you seem to think we only have our axes and spades. Englishmen
+don't claim a monopoly of good manners at Tadmor. We see no difference
+between an American gentleman and an English gentleman. And as for
+speaking English with an accent, the Americans accuse _us_ of doing
+that."
+
+He smiled again. "How very absurd!" he said, with a superb compassion
+for the benighted Americans. By this time, I suspect he began to feel
+that he had had enough of me. He got rid of me with an invitation.
+
+"I shall be glad to receive you at my private residence, and introduce
+you to my wife and her niece--our adopted daughter. There is the
+address. We have a few friends to dinner on Saturday next, at seven.
+Will you give us the pleasure of your company?"
+
+We are all aware that there is a distinction between civility and
+cordiality; but I myself never knew how wide that distinction might be,
+until Mr. Farnaby invited me to dinner. If I had not been curious
+(after what Mr. Hethcote had told me) to see Mrs. Farnaby and her
+niece, I should certainly have slipped out of the engagement. As it
+was, I promised to dine with Oily-Whiskers.
+
+He put his hand into mine at parting. It felt as moistly cold as a dead
+fish. After getting out again into the street, I turned into the first
+tavern I passed, and ordered a drink. Shall I tell you what else I did?
+I went into the lavatory, and washed Mr. Farnaby off my hand. (N.B.--If
+I had behaved in this way at Tadmor, I should have been punished with
+the lighter penalty--taking my meals by myself, and being forbidden to
+enter the Common Room for eight and forty hours.) I feel I am getting
+wickeder and wickeder in London--I have half a mind to join you in
+Ireland. What does Tom Moore say of his countrymen--he ought to know, I
+suppose? "For though they love women and golden store: Sir Knight, they
+love honour and virtue more!" They must have been all Socialists in Tom
+Moore's time. Just the place for me.
+
+
+I have been obliged to wait a little. A dense fog has descended on us
+by way of variety. With a stinking coal fire, with the gas lit and the
+curtains drawn at half-past eleven in the forenoon, I feel that I am in
+my own country again at last. Patience, my friend--patience! I am
+coming to the ladies.
+
+Entering Mr. Farnaby's private residence on the appointed day, I became
+acquainted with one more of the innumerable insincerities of modern
+English life. When a man asks you to dine with him at seven o'clock, in
+other countries, he means what he says. In England, he means half-past
+seven, and sometimes a quarter to eight. At seven o'clock I was the
+only person in Mr. Farnaby's drawing-room. At ten minutes past seven,
+Mr. Farnaby made his appearance. I had a good mind to take his place in
+the middle of the hearth-rug, and say, "Farnaby, I am glad to see you."
+But I looked at his whiskers; and _they_ said to me, as plainly as
+words could speak, "Better not!"
+
+In five minutes more, Mrs. Farnaby joined us.
+
+I wish I was a practised author--or, no, I would rather, for the
+moment, be a competent portrait-painter, and send you Mrs. Farnaby's
+likeness enclosed. How I am to describe her in words, I really don't
+know. My dear fellow, she almost frightened me. I never before saw such
+a woman; I never expect to see such a woman again. There was nothing in
+her figure, or in her way of moving, that produced this impression on
+me--she is little and fat, and walks with a firm, heavy step, like the
+step of a man. Her face is what I want to make you see as plainly as I
+saw it myself: it was her face that startled me.
+
+So far as I can pretend to judge, she must have been pretty, in a
+healthy way, when she was young. I declare I hardly know whether she is
+not pretty now. She certainly has no marks or wrinkles; her hair either
+has no gray in it, or is too light to show the gray. She has preserved
+her fair complexion; perhaps with art to assist it--I can't say. As for
+her lips--I am not speaking disrespectfully, I am only describing them
+truly, when I say that they invite kisses in spite of her. In two
+words, though she has been married (as I know from what one of the
+guests told me after dinner) for sixteen years, she would be still an
+irresistible little woman, but for the one startling drawback of her
+eyes. Don't mistake me. In themselves, they are large, well-opened blue
+eyes, and may at one time have been the chief attraction in her face.
+But now there is an expression of suffering in them--long, unsolaced
+suffering, as I believe--so despairing and so dreadful, that she really
+made my heart ache when I looked at her. I will swear to it, that woman
+lives in some secret hell of her own making, and longs for the release
+of death; and is so inveterately full of bodily life and strength, that
+she may carry her burden with her to the utmost verge of life. I am
+digging the pen into the paper, I feel this so strongly, and I am so
+wretchedly incompetent to express my feeling. Can you imagine a
+diseased mind, imprisoned in a healthy body? I don't care what doctors
+or books may say--it is that, and nothing else. Nothing else will solve
+the mystery of the smooth face, the fleshy figure, the firm step, the
+muscular grip of her hand when she gives it to you--and the soul in
+torment that looks at you all the while out of her eyes. It is useless
+to tell me that such a contradiction as this cannot exist. I have seen
+the woman; and she does exist.
+
+Oh yes! I can fancy you grinning over my letter--I can hear you saying
+to yourself, "Where did he pick up his experience, I wonder?" I have no
+experience--I only have something that serves me instead of it, and I
+don't know what. The Elder Brother, at Tadmor, used to say it was
+sympathy. But _he_ is a sentimentalist.
+
+Well, Mr. Farnaby presented me to his wife--and then walked away as if
+he was sick of us both, and looked out of the window.
+
+For some reason or other, Mrs. Farnaby seemed to be surprised, for the
+moment, by my personal appearance. Her husband had, very likely, not
+told her how young I was. She got over her momentary astonishment, and,
+signing to me to sit by her on the sofa, said the necessary words of
+welcome--evidently thinking something else all the time. The strange
+miserable eyes looked over my shoulder, instead of looking at me.
+
+"Mr. Farnaby tells me you have been living in America."
+
+The tone in which she spoke was curiously quiet and monotonous. I have
+heard such tones, in the Far West, from lonely settlers without a
+neighbouring soul to speak to. Has Mrs. Farnaby no neighbouring soul to
+speak to, except at dinner parties?
+
+"You are an Englishman, are you not?" she went on.
+
+I said Yes, and cast about in my mind for something to say to her. She
+saved me the trouble by making me the victim of a complete series of
+questions. This, as I afterwards discovered, was _her_ way of finding
+conversation for strangers. Have you ever met with absent-minded people
+to whom it is a relief to ask questions mechanically, without feeling
+the slightest interest in the answers?
+
+She began. "Where did you live in America?"
+
+"At Tadmor, in the State of Illinois."
+
+"What sort of place is Tadmor?"
+
+I described the place as well as I could, under the circumstances.
+
+"What made you go to Tadmor?"
+
+It was impossible to reply to this, without speaking of the Community.
+Feeling that the subject was not in the least likely to interest her, I
+spoke as briefly as I could. To my astonishment, I evidently began to
+interest her from that moment. The series of questions went on--but now
+she not only listened, she was eager for the answers.
+
+"Are there any women among you?"
+
+"Nearly as many women as men."
+
+Another change! Over the weary misery of her eyes there flashed a
+bright look of interest which completely transformed them. Her
+articulation even quickened when she put her next question.
+
+"Are any of the women friendless creatures, who came to you from
+England?"
+
+"Yes, some of them."
+
+I thought of Mellicent as I spoke. Was this new interest that I had so
+innocently aroused, an interest in Mellicent? Her next question only
+added to my perplexity. Her next question proved that my guess had
+completely failed to hit the mark.
+
+"Are there any _young_ women among them?"
+
+Mr. Farnaby, standing with his back to us thus far, suddenly turned and
+looked at her, when she inquired if there were "young" women among us.
+
+"Oh yes," I said. "Mere girls."
+
+She pressed so near to me that her knees touched mine. "How old?" she
+asked eagerly.
+
+Mr. Farnaby left the window, walked close up to the sofa, and
+deliberately interrupted us.
+
+"Nasty muggy weather, isn't it?" he said. "I suppose the climate of
+America--"
+
+Mrs. Farnaby deliberately interrupted her husband. "How old?" she
+repeated, in a louder tone.
+
+I was bound, of course, to answer the lady of the house. "Some girls
+from eighteen to twenty. And some younger."
+
+"How much younger?"
+
+"Oh, from sixteen to seventeen."
+
+She grew more and more excited; she positively laid her hand on my arm
+in her eagerness to secure my attention all to herself. "American girls
+or English?" she resumed, her fat, firm fingers closing on me with a
+tremulous grasp.
+
+"Shall you be in town in November?" said Mr. Farnaby, purposely
+interrupting us again. "If you would like to see the Lord Mayor's
+Show--"
+
+Mrs. Farnaby impatiently shook me by the arm. "American girls or
+English?" she reiterated, more obstinately than ever.
+
+Mr. Farnaby gave her one look. If he could have put her on the blazing
+fire and have burnt her up in an instant by an effort of will, I
+believe he would have made the effort. He saw that I was observing him,
+and turned quickly from his wife to me. His ruddy face was pale with
+suppressed rage. My early arrival had given Mrs. Farnaby an opportunity
+of speaking to me, which he had not anticipated in inviting me to
+dinner. "Come and see my pictures," he said.
+
+His wife still held me fast. Whether he liked it or not, I had again no
+choice but to answer her. "Some American girls, and some English," I
+said.
+
+Her eyes opened wider and wider in unutterable expectation. She
+suddenly advanced her face so close to mine, that I felt her hot breath
+on my cheeks as the next words burst their way through her lips.
+
+"Born in England?"
+
+"No. Born at Tadmor."
+
+She dropped my arm. The light died out of her eyes in an instant. In
+some inconceivable way, I had utterly destroyed some secret expectation
+that she had fixed on me. She actually left me on the sofa, and took a
+chair on the opposite side of the fireplace. Mr. Farnaby, turning paler
+and paler, stepped up to her as she changed her place. I rose to look
+at the pictures on the wall nearest to me. You remarked the
+extraordinary keenness of my sense of hearing, while we were fellow
+passengers on the steamship. When he stooped over her, and whispered in
+her ear, I heard him--though nearly the whole breadth of the room was
+between us. "You hell-cat!"--that was what Mr. Farnaby said to his
+wife.
+
+The clock on the mantelpiece struck the half-hour after seven. In quick
+succession, the guests at the dinner now entered the room.
+
+I was so staggered by the extraordinary scene of married life which I
+had just witnessed, that the guests produced only a very faint
+impression upon me. My mind was absorbed in trying to find the true
+meaning of what I had seen and heard. Was Mrs. Farnaby a little mad? I
+dismissed that idea as soon as it occurred to me; nothing that I had
+observed in her justified it. The truer conclusion appeared to be, that
+she was deeply interested in some absent (and possibly lost) young
+creature; whose age, judging by actions and tones which had
+sufficiently revealed that part of the secret to me, could not be more
+than sixteen or seventeen years. How long had she cherished the hope of
+seeing the girl, or hearing of her? It must have been, anyhow, a hope
+very deeply rooted, for she had been perfectly incapable of controlling
+herself when I had accidentally roused it. As for her husband, there
+could be no doubt that the subject was not merely distasteful to him,
+but so absolutely infuriating that he could not even keep his temper,
+in the presence of a third person invited to his house. Had he injured
+the girl in any way? Was he responsible for her disappearance? Did his
+wife know it, or only suspect it? Who _was_ the girl? What was the
+secret of Mrs. Farnaby's extraordinary interest in her--Mrs. Farnaby,
+whose marriage was childless; whose interest one would have thought
+should be naturally concentrated on her adopted daughter, her sister's
+orphan child? In conjectures such as these, I completely lost myself.
+Let me hear what your ingenuity can make of the puzzle; and let me
+return to Mr. Farnaby's dinner, waiting on Mr. Farnaby's table.
+
+The servant threw open the drawing-room door, and the most honoured
+guest present led Mrs. Farnaby to the dining-room. I roused myself to
+some observation of what was going on about me. No ladies had been
+invited; and the men were all of a certain age. I looked in vain for
+the charming niece. Was she not well enough to appear at the
+dinner-party? I ventured on putting the question to Mr. Farnaby.
+
+"You will find her at the tea-table, when we return to the
+drawing-room. Girls are out of place at dinner-parties." So he answered
+me--not very graciously.
+
+As I stepped out on the landing, I looked up; I don't know why, unless
+I was the unconscious object of magnetic attraction. Anyhow, I had my
+reward. A bright young face peeped over the balusters of the upper
+staircase, and modestly withdrew itself again in a violent hurry.
+Everybody but Mr. Farnaby and myself had disappeared in the
+dining-room. Was she having a peep at the young Socialist?
+
+
+Another interruption to my letter, caused by another change in the
+weather. The fog has vanished; the waiter is turning off the gas, and
+letting in the drab-coloured daylight. I ask him if it is still
+raining. He smiles, and rubs his hands, and says, "It looks like
+clearing up soon, sir." This man's head is gray; he has been all his
+life a waiter in London--and he can still see the cheerful side of
+things. What native strength of mind cast away on a vocation that is
+unworthy of it!
+
+Well--and now about the Farnaby dinner. I feel a tightness in the lower
+part of my waistcoat, Rufus, when I think of the dinner; there was such
+a quantity of it, and Mr. Farnaby was so tyrannically resolute in
+forcing his luxuries down the throats of his guests. His eye was on me,
+if I let my plate go away before it was empty--his eye said "I have
+paid for this magnificent dinner, and I mean to see you eat it." Our
+printed list of the dishes, as they succeeded each other, also informed
+us of the varieties of wine which it was imperatively necessary to
+drink with each dish. I got into difficulties early in the proceedings.
+The taste of sherry, for instance, is absolutely nauseous to me; and
+Rhine wine turns into vinegar ten minutes after it has passed my lips.
+I asked for the wine that I could drink, out of its turn. You should
+have seen Mr. Farnaby's face, when I violated the rules of his
+dinner-table! It was the one amusing incident of the feast--the one
+thing that alleviated the dreary and mysterious spectacle of Mrs.
+Farnaby. There she sat, with her mind hundreds of miles away from
+everything that was going on about her, entangling the two guests, on
+her right hand and on her left, in a network of vacant questions, just
+as she had entangled me. I discovered that one of these gentlemen was a
+barrister and the other a ship-owner, by the answers which Mrs. Farnaby
+absently extracted from them on the subject of their respective
+vocations in life. And while she questioned incessantly, she ate
+incessantly. Her vigorous body insisted on being fed. She would have
+emptied her wineglass (I suspect) as readily as she plied her knife and
+fork--but I discovered that a certain system of restraint was
+established in the matter of wine. At intervals, Mr. Farnaby just
+looked at the butler--and the butler and his bottle, on those
+occasions, deliberately passed her by. Not the slightest visible change
+was produced in her by the eating and drinking; she was equal to any
+demands that any dinner could make on her. There was no flush in her
+face, no change in her spirits, when she rose, in obedience to English
+custom, and retired to the drawing-room.
+
+Left together over their wine, the men began to talk politics.
+
+I listened at the outset, expecting to get some information. Our
+readings in modern history at Tadmor had informed us of the dominant
+political position of the middle classes in England, since the time of
+the first Reform Bill. Mr. Farnaby's guests represented the respectable
+mediocrity of social position, the professional and commercial average
+of the nation. They all talked glibly enough--I and an old gentleman
+who sat next to me being the only listeners. I had spent the morning
+lazily in the smoking-room of the hotel, reading the day's newspapers.
+And what did I hear now, when the politicians set in for their
+discussion? I heard the leading articles of the day's newspapers
+translated into bald chat, and coolly addressed by one man to another,
+as if they were his own individual views on public affairs! This absurd
+imposture positively went the round of the table, received and
+respected by everybody with a stolid solemnity of make-believe which it
+was downright shameful to see. Not a man present said, "I saw that
+today in the _Times_ or the _Telegraph."_ Not a man present had an
+opinion of his own; or, if he had an opinion, ventured to express it;
+or, if he knew nothing of the subject, was honest enough to say so. One
+enormous Sham, and everybody in a conspiracy to take it for the real
+thing: that is an accurate description of the state of political
+feeling among the representative men at Mr. Farnaby's dinner. I am not
+judging rashly by one example only; I have been taken to clubs and
+public festivals, only to hear over and over again what I heard in Mr.
+Farnaby's dining-room. Does it need any great foresight to see that
+such a state of things as this cannot last much longer, in a country
+which has not done with reforming itself yet? The time is coming, in
+England, when the people who _have_ opinions of their own will be
+heard, and when Parliament will be forced to open the door to them.
+
+This is a nice outbreak of republican freedom! What does my
+long-suffering friend think of it--waiting all the time to be presented
+to Mr. Farnaby's niece? Everything in its place, Rufus. The niece
+followed the politics, at the time; and she shall follow them now.
+
+You shall hear first what my next neighbour said of her--a quaint old
+fellow, a retired doctor, if I remember correctly. He seemed to be as
+weary of the second-hand newspaper talk as I was; he quite sparkled and
+cheered up when I introduced the subject of Miss Regina. Have I
+mentioned her name yet? If not, here it is for you in full:--Miss
+Regina Mildmay.
+
+"I call her the brown girl," said the old gentleman. "Brown hair, brown
+eyes, and a brown skin. No, not a brunette; not dark enough for that--a
+warm, delicate brown; wait till you see it! Takes after her father, I
+should tell you. He was a fine-looking man in his time; foreign blood
+in his veins, by his mother's side. Miss Regina gets her queer name by
+being christened after his mother. Never mind her name; she's a
+charming person. Let's drink her health."
+
+We drank her health. Remembering that he had called her "the brown
+girl," I said I supposed she was still quite young.
+
+"Better than young," the doctor answered; "in the prime of life. I call
+her a girl, by habit. Wait till you see her!"
+
+"Has she a good figure, sir?"
+
+"Ha! you're like the Turks, are you? A nice-looking woman doesn't
+content you--you must have her well-made too. We can accommodate you,
+sir; we are slim and tall, with a swing of our hips, and we walk like a
+goddess. Wait and see how her head is put on her shoulders--I say no
+more. Proud? Not she! A simple, unaffected, kind-hearted creature.
+Always the same; I never saw her out of temper in my life; I never
+heard her speak ill of anybody. The man who gets her will be a man to
+be envied, I can tell you!"
+
+"Is she engaged to be married?"
+
+"No. She has had plenty of offers; but she doesn't seem to care for
+anything of that sort--so far. Devotes herself to Mrs. Farnaby, and
+keeps up her school-friendships. A splendid creature, with the vital
+thermometer at temperate heart--a calm, meditative, equable person.
+Pass me the olives. Only think! the man who discovered olives is
+unknown; no statue of him erected in any part of the civilized earth. I
+know few more remarkable instances of human ingratitude."
+
+I risked a bold question--but not on the subject of olives. "Isn't Miss
+Regina's life rather a dull one in this house?"
+
+The doctor cautiously lowered his voice. "It would be dull enough to
+some women. Regina's early life has been a hard one. Her mother was Mr.
+Ronald's eldest daughter. The old brute never forgave her for marrying
+against his wishes. Mrs. Ronald did all she could, secretly, to help
+the young wife in disgrace. But old Ronald had sole command of the
+money, and kept it to himself. From Regina's earliest childhood there
+was always distress at home. Her father harassed by creditors, trying
+one scheme after another, and failing in all; her mother and herself,
+half starved--with their very bedclothes sometimes at the pawnbrokers.
+I attended them in their illnesses, and though they hid their
+wretchedness from everybody else (proud as Lucifer, both of them!),
+they couldn't hide it from me. Fancy the change to this house! I don't
+say that living here in clover is enough for such a person as Regina; I
+only say it has its influence. She is one of those young women, sir,
+who delight in sacrificing themselves to others--she is devoted, for
+instance, to Mrs. Farnaby. I only hope Mrs. Farnaby is worthy of it!
+Not that it matters to Regina. What she does, she does out of her own
+sweetness of disposition. She brightens this household, I can tell you!
+Farnaby did a wise thing, in his own domestic interests, when he
+adopted her as his daughter. She thinks she can never be grateful
+enough to him--the good creature!--though she has repaid him a
+hundredfold. He'll find that out, one of these days, when a husband
+takes her away. Don't suppose that I want to disparage our host--he's
+an old friend of mine; but he's a little too apt to take the good
+things that fall to his lot as if they were nothing but a just
+recognition of his own merits. I have told him that to his face, often
+enough to have a right to say it of him when he doesn't hear me. Do you
+smoke? I wish they would drop their politics, and take to tobacco. I
+say Farnaby! I want a cigar."
+
+This broad hint produced an adjournment to the smoking-room, the doctor
+leading the way. I began to wonder how much longer my introduction to
+Miss Regina was to be delayed. It was not to come until I had seen a
+new side of my host's character, and had found myself promoted to a
+place of my own in Mr. Farnaby's estimation.
+
+As we rose from table one of the guests spoke to me of a visit that he
+had recently paid to the part of Buckinghamshire which I come from. "I
+was shown a remarkably picturesque old house on the heath," he said.
+"They told me it had been inhabited for centuries by the family of the
+Goldenhearts. Are you in any way related to them?" I answered that I
+was very nearly related, having been born in the house--and there, as I
+suppose, the matter ended. Being the youngest man of the party, I
+waited, of course, until the rest of the gentlemen had passed out to
+the smoking-room. Mr. Farnaby and I were left together. To my
+astonishment, he put his arm cordially into mine, and led me out of the
+dining-room with the genial familiarity of an old friend!
+
+"I'll give you such a cigar," he said, "as you can't buy for money in
+all London. You have enjoyed yourself, I hope? Now we know what wine
+you like, you won't have to ask the butler for it next time. Drop in
+any day, and take pot-luck with us." He came to a standstill in the
+hall; his brassy rasping voice assumed a new tone--a sort of parody of
+respect. "Have you been to your family place," he asked, "since your
+return to England?"
+
+He had evidently heard the few words exchanged between his friend and
+myself. It seemed odd that he should take any interest in a place
+belonging to people who were strangers to him. However, his question
+was easily answered. I had only to inform him that my father had sold
+the house when he left England.
+
+"Oh dear, I'm sorry to hear that!" he said. "Those old family places
+ought to be kept up. The greatness of England, sir, strikes its roots
+in the old families of England. They may be rich, or they may be
+poor--that don't matter. An old family _is_ an old family; it's sad to
+see their hearths and homes sold to wealthy manufacturers who don't
+know who their own grandfathers were. Would you allow me to ask what is
+the family motto of the Goldenhearts?"
+
+Shall I own the truth? The bottles circulated freely at Mr. Farnaby's
+table--I began to wonder whether he was quite sober. I said I was sorry
+to disappoint him, but I really did not know what my family motto was.
+
+He was unaffectedly shocked. "I think I saw a ring on your finger," he
+said, as soon as he recovered himself. He lifted my left hand in his
+own cold-fishy paw. The one ring I wear is of plain gold; it belonged
+to my father and it has his initials inscribed on the signet.
+
+"Good gracious, you haven't got your coat-of-arms on your seal!" cried
+Mr. Farnaby. "My dear sir, I am old enough to be your father, and I
+must take the freedom of remonstrating with you. Your coat-of-arms and
+your motto are no doubt at the Heralds' Office--why don't you apply for
+them? Shall I go there for you? I will do it with pleasure. You
+shouldn't be careless about these things--you shouldn't indeed."
+
+I listened in speechless astonishment. Was he ironically expressing his
+contempt for old families? We got into the smoking-room at last; and my
+friend the doctor enlightened me privately in a corner. Every word Mr.
+Farnaby had said had been spoken in earnest. This man, who owes his
+rise from the lowest social position entirely to himself--who, judging
+by his own experience, has every reason to despise the poor pride of
+ancestry--actually feels a sincerely servile admiration for the
+accident of birth! "Oh, poor human nature!" as Somebody says. How
+cordially I agree with Somebody!
+
+We went up to the drawing-room; and I was introduced to "the brown
+girl" at last. What impression did she produce on me?
+
+Do you know, Rufus, there is some perverse reluctance in me to go on
+with this inordinately long letter just when I have arrived at the most
+interesting part of it. I can't account for my own state of mind; I
+only know that it is so. The difficulty of describing the young lady
+doesn't perplex me like the difficulty of describing Mrs. Farnaby. I
+can see her now, as vividly as if she was present in the room. I even
+remember (and this is astonishing in a man) the dress that she wore.
+And yet I shrink from writing about her, as if there was something
+wrong in it. Do me a kindness, good friend, and let me send off all
+these sheets of paper, the idle work of an idle morning, just as they
+are. When I write next, I promise to be ashamed of my own capricious
+state of mind, and to paint the portrait of Miss Regina at full length.
+
+In the mean while, don't run away with the idea that she has made a
+disagreeable impression upon me. Good heavens! it is far from that. You
+have had the old doctor's opinion of her. Very well. Multiply this
+opinion by ten--and you have mine.
+
+
+[NOTE:--A strange indorsement appears on this letter, dated several
+months after the period at which it was received:--_"Ah, poor Amelius!
+He had better have gone back to Miss Mellicent, and put up with the
+little drawback of her age. What a bright, lovable fellow he was!
+Goodbye to Goldenheart!"_
+
+These lines are not signed. They are known, however, to be in the
+handwriting of Rufus Dingwell.]
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 2
+
+I particularly want you to come and lunch with us, dearest Cecilia, the
+day after tomorrow. Don't say to yourself, "The Farnaby's house is
+dull, and Regina is too slow for me," and don't think about the long
+drive for the horses, from your place to London. This letter has an
+interest of its own, my dear--I have got something new for you. What do
+you think of a young man, who is clever and handsome and
+agreeable--and, wonder of wonders, quite unlike any other young
+Englishman you ever saw in your life? You are to meet him at luncheon;
+and you are to get used to his strange name beforehand. For which
+purpose I enclose his card.
+
+He made his first appearance at our house, at dinner yesterday evening.
+
+When he was presented to me at the tea-table, he was not to be put off
+with a bow--he insisted on shaking hands. "Where I have been," he
+explained, "we help a first introduction with a little cordiality." He
+looked into his tea-cup, after he said that, with the air of a man who
+could say something more, if he had a little encouragement. Of course,
+I encouraged him. "I suppose shaking hands is much the same form in
+America that bowing is in England?" I said, as suggestively as I could.
+
+He looked up directly, and shook his head. "We have too many forms in
+this country," he said. "The virtue of hospitality, for instance, seems
+to have become a form in England. In America, when a new acquaintance
+says, 'Come and see me,' he means it. When he says it here, in nine
+cases out of ten he looks unaffectedly astonished if you are fool
+enough to take him at his word. I hate insincerity, Miss Regina--and
+now I have returned to my own country, I find insincerity one of the
+established institutions of English Society. 'Can we do anything for
+you?' Ask them to do something for you--and you will see what it means.
+'Thank you for such a pleasant evening!' Get into the carriage with
+them when they go home--and you will find that it means, 'What a bore!'
+'Ah, Mr. So-and-so, allow me to congratulate you on your new
+appointment.' Mr. So-and-so passes out of hearing--and you discover
+what the congratulations mean. 'Corrupt old brute! he has got the price
+of his vote at the last division.' 'Oh, Mr. Blank, what a charming book
+you have written!' Mr. Blank passes out of hearing--and you ask what
+his book is about. 'To tell you the truth, I haven't read it. Hush!
+he's received at Court; one must say these things.' The other day a
+friend took me to a grand dinner at the Lord Mayor's. I accompanied him
+first to his club; many distinguished guests met there before going to
+the dinner. Heavens, how they spoke of the Lord Mayor! One of them
+didn't know his name, and didn't want to know it; another wasn't
+certain whether he was a tallow-chandler or a button-maker; a third,
+who had met with him somewhere, described him as a damned ass; a fourth
+said, 'Oh, don't be hard on him; he's only a vulgar old Cockney,
+without an _h_ in his whole composition.' A chorus of general agreement
+followed, as the dinner-hour approached: 'What a bore!' I whispered to
+my friend, 'Why do they go?' He answered, 'You see, one must do this
+sort of thing.' And when we got to the Mansion House, they did that
+sort of thing with a vengeance! When the speech-making set in, these
+very men who had been all expressing their profound contempt for the
+Lord Mayor behind his back, now flattered him to his face in such a
+shamelessly servile way, with such a meanly complete insensibility to
+their own baseness, that I did really and literally turn sick. I
+slipped out into the fresh air, and fumigated myself, after the company
+I had kept, with a cigar. No, no! it's useless to excuse these things
+(I could quote dozens of other instances that have come under my own
+observation) by saying that they are trifles. When trifles make
+themselves habits of yours or of mine, they become a part of your
+character or mine. We have an inveterately false and vicious system of
+society in England. If you want to trace one of the causes, look back
+to the little organized insincerities of English life."
+
+Of course you understand, Cecilia, that this was not all said at one
+burst, as I have written it here. Some of it came out in the way of
+answers to my inquiries, and some of it was spoken in the intervals of
+laughing, talking, and tea-drinking. But I want to show you how very
+different this young man is from the young men whom we are in the habit
+of meeting, and so I huddle his talk together in one sample, as Papa
+Farnaby would call it.
+
+My dear, he is decidedly handsome (I mean our delightful Amelius); his
+face has a bright, eager look, indescribably refreshing as a contrast
+to the stolid composure of the ordinary young Englishman. His smile is
+charming; he moves as gracefully--with as little self-consciousness--as
+my Italian greyhound. He has been brought up among the strangest people
+in America; and (would you believe it?) he is actually a Socialist.
+Don't be alarmed. He shocked us all dreadfully by declaring that his
+Socialism was entirely learnt out of the New Testament. I have looked
+at the New Testament, since he mentioned some of his principles to me;
+and, do you know, I declare it is true!
+
+Oh, I forgot--the young Socialist plays and sings! When we asked him to
+go to the piano, he got up and began directly. "I don't do it well
+enough," he said, "to want a great deal of pressing." He sang old
+English songs, with great taste and sweetness. One of the gentlemen of
+our party, evidently disliking him, spoke rather rudely, I thought. "A
+Socialist who sings and plays," he said, "is a harmless Socialist
+indeed. I begin to feel that my balance is safe at my banker's, and
+that London won't be set on fire with petroleum this time." He got his
+answer, I can tell you. "Why should we set London on fire? London takes
+a regular percentage of your income from you, sir, whether you like it
+or not, on sound Socialist principles. You are the man who has got the
+money, and Socialism says:--You must and shall help the man who has got
+none. That is exactly what your own Poor Law says to you, every time
+the collector leaves the paper at your house." Wasn't it clever?--and
+it was doubly severe, because it was good-humouredly said.
+
+Between ourselves, Cecilia, I think he is struck with me. When I walked
+about the room, his bright eyes followed me everywhere. And, when I
+took a chair by somebody else, not feeling it quite right to keep him
+all to myself, he invariably contrived to find a seat on the other side
+of me. His voice, too, had a certain tone, addressed to me, and to no
+other person in the room. Judge for yourself when you come here; but
+don't jump to conclusions, if you please. Oh no--I am not going to fall
+in love with him! It isn't in me to fall in love with anybody. Do you
+remember what the last man whom I refused said of me? "She has a
+machine on the left side of her that pumps blood through her body, but
+she has no heart." I pity the woman who marries _that_ man!
+
+One thing more, my dear. This curious Amelius seems to notice trifles
+which escape men in general, just as _we_ do. Towards the close of the
+evening, poor Mamma Farnaby fell into one of her vacant states; half
+asleep and half awake on the sofa in the back drawing-room. "Your aunt
+interests me," he whispered. "She must have suffered some terrible
+sorrow, at some past time in her life." Fancy a man seeing that! He
+dropped some hints, which showed that he was puzzling his brains to
+discover how I got on with her, and whether I was in her confidence or
+not: he even went the length of asking what sort of life I led with the
+uncle and aunt who have adopted me. My dear, it was done so delicately,
+with such irresistible sympathy and such a charming air of respect,
+that I was quite startled when I remembered, in the wakeful hours of
+the night, how freely I had spoken to him. Not that I have betrayed any
+secrets; for, as you know, I am as ignorant as everybody else of what
+the early troubles of my poor dear aunt may have been. But I did tell
+him how I came into the house a helpless little orphan girl; and how
+generously these two good relatives adopted me; and how happy it made
+me to find that I could really do something to cheer their sad
+childless lives. "I wish I was half as good as you are," he said. "I
+can't understand how you became fond of Mrs. Farnaby. Perhaps it began
+in sympathy and compassion?" Just think of that, from a young
+Englishman! He went on confessing his perplexities, as if we had known
+one another from childhood. "I am a little surprised to see Mrs.
+Farnaby present at parties of this sort; I should have thought she
+would have stayed in her own room." "That's just what she objects to
+do," I answered; "She says people will report that her husband is
+ashamed of her, or that she is not fit to be seen in society, if she
+doesn't appear at the parties--and she is determined not to be
+misrepresented in that way." Can you understand my talking to him with
+so little reserve? It is a specimen, Cecilia, of the odd manner in
+which my impulses carry me away, in this man's company. He is so nice
+and gentle--and yet so manly. I shall be curious to see if you can
+resist him, with your superior firmness and knowledge of the world.
+
+But the strangest incident of all I have not told you yet--feeling some
+hesitation about the best way of describing it, so as to interest you
+in what has deeply interested me. I must tell it as plainly as I can,
+and leave it to speak for itself.
+
+Who do you think has invited Amelius Goldenheart to luncheon? Not Papa
+Farnaby, who only invites him to dinner. Not I, it is needless to say.
+Who is it, then? Mamma Farnaby herself. He has actually so interested
+her that she has been thinking of him, and dreaming of him, in his
+absence!
+
+I heard her last night, poor thing, talking and grinding her teeth in
+her sleep; and I went into her room to try if I could quiet her, in the
+usual way, by putting my cool hand on her forehead, and pressing it
+gently. (The old doctor says it's magnetism, which is ridiculous.)
+Well, it didn't succeed this time; she went on muttering, and making
+that dreadful sound with her teeth. Occasionally a word was spoken
+clearly enough to be intelligible. I could make no connected sense of
+what I heard; but I could positively discover this--that she was
+dreaming of our guest from America!
+
+I said nothing about it, of course, when I went upstairs with her cup
+of tea this morning. What do you think was the first thing she asked
+for? Pen, ink, and paper. Her next request was that I would write Mr.
+Goldenheart's address on an envelope. "Are you going to write to him?"
+I asked. "Yes," she said, "I want to speak to him, while John is out of
+the way at business," "Secrets?" I said, turning it off with a laugh.
+She answered, speaking gravely and earnestly. "Yes; secrets." The
+letter was written, and sent to his hotel, inviting him to lunch with
+us on the first day when he was disengaged. He has replied, appointing
+the day after tomorrow. By way of trying to penetrate the mystery, I
+inquired if she wished me to appear at the luncheon. She considered
+with herself, before she answered that. "I want him to be amused, and
+put in a good humour," she said, "before I speak to him. You must lunch
+with us--and ask Cecilia." She stopped, and considered once more. "Mind
+one thing," she went on. "Your uncle is to know nothing about it. If
+you tell him, I will never speak to you again."
+
+Is this not extraordinary? Whatever her dream may have been, it has
+evidently produced a strong impression on her. I firmly believe she
+means to take him away with her to her own room, when the luncheon is
+over. Dearest Cecilia, you must help me to stop this! I have never been
+trusted with her secrets; they may, for all I know, be innocent secrets
+enough, poor soul! But it is surely in the highest degree undesirable
+that she should take into her confidence a young man who is only an
+acquaintance of ours: she will either make herself ridiculous, or do
+something worse. If Mr. Farnaby finds it out, I really tremble for what
+may happen.
+
+For the sake of old friendship, don't leave me to face this difficulty
+by myself. A line, only one line, dearest, to say that you will not
+fail me.
+
+
+
+BOOK THE THIRD
+
+MRS. FARNABY'S FOOT
+
+CHAPTER 1
+
+It is an afternoon concert; and modern German music was largely
+represented on the programme. The patient English people sat in
+closely-packed rows, listening to the pretentious instrumental noises
+which were impudently offered to them as a substitute for melody. While
+these docile victims of the worst of all quackeries (musical quackery)
+were still toiling through their first hour of endurance, a passing
+ripple of interest stirred the stagnant surface of the audience caused
+by the sudden rising of a lady overcome by the heat. She was quickly
+led out of the concert-room (after whispering a word of explanation to
+two young ladies seated at her side) by a gentleman who made a fourth
+member of the party. Left by themselves, the young ladies looked at
+each other, whispered to each other, half rose from their places,
+became confusedly conscious that the wandering attention of the
+audience was fixed on them, and decided at last on following their
+companions out of the hall.
+
+But the lady who had preceded them had some reason of her own for not
+waiting to recover herself in the vestibule. When the gentleman in
+charge of her asked if he should get a glass of water, she answered
+sharply, "Get a cab--and be quick about it."
+
+The cab was found in a moment; the gentleman got in after her, by the
+lady's invitation. "Are you better now?" he asked.
+
+"I have never had anything the matter with me," she replied, quietly;
+"tell the man to drive faster."
+
+Having obeyed his instructions, the gentleman (otherwise Amelius) began
+to look a little puzzled. The lady (Mrs. Farnaby herself) perceived his
+condition of mind, and favoured him with an explanation.
+
+"I had my own motive for asking you to luncheon today," she began, in
+that steady downright way of speaking that was peculiar to her. "I
+wanted to have a word with you privately. My niece Regina--don't be
+surprised at my calling her my niece, when you have heard Mr. Farnaby
+call her his daughter. She _is_ my niece. Adopting her is a mere
+phrase. It doesn't alter facts; it doesn't make her Mr. Farnaby's child
+or mine, does it?"
+
+She had ended with a question, but she seemed to want no answer to it.
+Her face was turned towards the cab-window, instead of towards Amelius.
+He was one of those rare people who are capable of remaining silent
+when they have nothing to say. Mrs. Farnaby went on.
+
+"My niece Regina is a good creature in her way; but she suspects
+people. She has some reason of her own for trying to prevent me from
+taking you into my confidence; and her friend Cecilia is helping her.
+Yes, yes; the concert was the obstacle which they had arranged to put
+in my way. You were obliged to go, after telling them you wanted to
+hear the music; and I couldn't complain, because they had got a fourth
+ticket for me. I made up my mind what to do; and I have done it.
+Nothing wonderful in my being taken ill with the heat; nothing
+wonderful in your doing your duty as a gentleman and looking after
+me--and what is the consequence? Here we are together, on our way to my
+room, in spite of them. Not so bad for a poor helpless creature like
+me, is it?"
+
+Inwardly wondering what it all meant, and what she could possibly want
+with him, Amelius suggested that the young ladies might leave the
+concert-room, and, not finding them in the vestibule, might follow them
+back to the house.
+
+Mrs. Farnaby turned her head from the window, and looked him in the
+face for the first time. "I have been a match for them so far," she
+said; "leave it to me, and you will find I can be a match for them
+still."
+
+After saying this, she watched the puzzled face of Amelius with a
+moment's steady scrutiny. Her full lips relaxed into a faint smile; her
+head sank slowly on her bosom. "I wonder whether he thinks I am a
+little crazy?" she said quietly to herself. "Some women in my place
+would have gone mad years ago. Perhaps it might have been better for
+_me?"_ She looked up again at Amelius. "I believe you are a
+good-tempered fellow," she went on. "Are you in your usual temper now?
+Did you enjoy your lunch? Has the lively company of the young ladies
+put you in a good humour with women generally? I want you to be in a
+particularly good humour with me."
+
+She spoke quite gravely. Amelius, a little to his own astonishment,
+found himself answering gravely on his side; assuring her, in the most
+conventional terms, that he was entirely at her service. Something in
+her manner affected him disagreeably. If he had followed his impulse,
+he would have jumped out of the cab, and have recovered his liberty and
+his light-heartedness at one and the same moment, by running away at
+the top of his speed.
+
+The driver turned into the street in which Mr. Farnaby's house was
+situated. Mrs. Farnaby stopped him, and got out at some little distance
+from the door. "You think the young ones will follow us back," she said
+to Amelius. "It doesn't matter, the servants will have nothing to tell
+them if they do." She checked him in the act of knocking, when they
+reached the house door. "It's tea-time downstairs," she whispered,
+looking at her watch. "You and I are going into the house, without
+letting the servants know anything about it. _Now_ do you understand?"
+
+She produced from her pocket a steel ring, with several keys attached
+to it. "A duplicate of Mr. Farnaby's key," she explained, as she chose
+one, and opened the street door. "Sometimes, when I find myself waking
+in the small hours of the morning, I can't endure my bed; I must go out
+and walk. My key lets me in again, just as it lets us in now, without
+disturbing anybody. You had better say nothing about it to Mr. Farnaby.
+Not that it matters much; for I should refuse to give up my key if he
+asked me. But you're a good-natured fellow--and you don't want to make
+bad blood between man and wife, do you? Step softly, and follow me."
+
+Amelius hesitated. There was something repellent to him in entering
+another man's house under these clandestine conditions. "All right!"
+whispered Mrs. Farnaby, perfectly understanding him. "Consult your
+dignity; go out again, and knock at the door, and ask if I am at home.
+I only wanted to prevent a fuss and an interruption when Regina comes
+back. If the servants don't know we are here, they will tell her we
+haven't returned--don't you see?"
+
+It would have been absurd to contest the matter, after this. Amelius
+followed her submissively to the farther end of the hall. There, she
+opened the door of a long narrow room, built out at the back of the
+house.
+
+"This is my den," she said, signing to Amelius to pass in. "While we
+are here, nobody will disturb us." She laid aside her bonnet and shawl,
+and pointed to a box of cigars on the table. "Take one," she resumed.
+"I smoke too, when nobody sees me. That's one of the reasons, I dare
+say, why Regina wished to keep you out of my room. I find smoking
+composes me. What do _you_ say?"
+
+She lit a cigar, and handed the matches to Amelius. Finding that he
+stood fairly committed to the adventure, he resigned himself to
+circumstances with his customary facility. He too lit a cigar, and took
+a chair by the fire, and looked about him with an impenetrable
+composure worthy of Rufus Dingwell himself.
+
+The room bore no sort of resemblance to a boudoir. A faded old turkey
+carpet was spread on the floor. The common mahogany table had no
+covering; the chintz on the chairs was of a truly venerable age. Some
+of the furniture made the place look like a room occupied by a man.
+Dumb-bells and clubs of the sort used in athletic exercises hung over
+the bare mantelpiece; a large ugly oaken structure with closed doors,
+something between a cabinet and a wardrobe, rose on one side to the
+ceiling; a turning lathe stood against the opposite wall. Above the
+lathe were hung in a row four prints, in dingy old frames of black
+wood, which especially attracted the attention of Amelius. Mostly
+foreign prints, they were all discoloured by time, and they all
+strangely represented different aspects of the same subject--infants
+parted from their parents by desertion or robbery. The young Moses was
+there, in his ark of bulrushes, on the river bank. Good St. Francis
+appeared next, roaming the streets, and rescuing forsaken children in
+the wintry night. A third print showed the foundling hospital of old
+Paris, with the turning cage in the wall, and the bell to ring when the
+infant was placed in it. The next and last subject was the stealing of
+a child from the lap of its slumbering nurse by a gipsy woman. These
+sadly suggestive subjects were the only ornaments on the walls. No
+traces of books or music were visible; no needlework of any sort was to
+be seen; no elegant trifles; no china or flowers or delicate lacework
+or sparkling jewelry--nothing, absolutely nothing, suggestive of a
+woman's presence appeared in any part of Mrs. Farnaby's room.
+
+"I have got several things to say to you," she began; "but one thing
+must be settled first. Give me your sacred word of honour that you will
+not repeat to any mortal creature what I am going to tell you now." She
+reclined in her chair, and drew in a mouthful of smoke and puffed it
+out again, and waited for his reply.
+
+Young and unsuspicious as he was, this unscrupulous method of taking
+his confidence by storm startled Amelius. His natural tact and good
+sense told him plainly that Mrs. Farnaby was asking too much.
+
+"Don't be angry with me, ma'am," he said; "I must remind you that you
+are going to tell me your secrets, without any wish to intrude on them
+on my part--"
+
+She interrupted him there. "What does that matter?" she asked coolly.
+
+Amelius was obstinate; he went on with what he had to say. "I should
+like to know," he proceeded, "that I am doing no wrong to anybody,
+before I give you my promise?"
+
+"You will be doing a kindness to a miserable creature," she answered,
+as quietly as ever; "and you will be doing no wrong to yourself or to
+anybody else, if you promise. That is all I can say. Your cigar is out.
+Take a light."
+
+Amelius took a light, with the dog-like docility of a man in a state of
+blank amazement. She waited, watching him composedly until his cigar
+was in working order again.
+
+"Well?" she asked. "Will you promise now?"
+
+Amelius gave her his promise.
+
+"On your sacred word of honour?" she persisted.
+
+Amelius repeated the formula. She reclined in her chair once more. "I
+want to speak to you as if I was speaking to an old friend," she
+explained. "I suppose I may call you Amelius?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"Well, Amelius, I must tell you first that I committed a sin, many long
+years ago. I have suffered the punishment; I am suffering it still.
+Ever since I was a young woman, I have had a heavy burden of misery on
+my heart. I am not reconciled to it, I cannot submit to it, yet. I
+never shall be reconciled to it, I never shall submit to it, if I live
+to be a hundred. Do you wish me to enter into particulars? or will you
+have mercy on me, and be satisfied with what I have told you so far?"
+
+It was not said entreatingly, or tenderly, or humbly: she spoke with a
+savage self-contained resignation in her manner and in her voice.
+Amelius forgot his cigar again--and again she reminded him of it. He
+answered her as his own generous impulsive temperament urged him; he
+said, "Tell me nothing that causes you a moment's pain; tell me only
+how I can help you." She handed him the box of matches; she said, "Your
+cigar is out again."
+
+He laid down his cigar. In his brief span of life he had seen no human
+misery that expressed itself in this way. "Excuse me," he answered; "I
+won't smoke just now."
+
+She laid her cigar aside like Amelius, and crossed her arms over her
+bosom, and looked at him, with the first softening gleam of tenderness
+that he had seen in her face. "My friend," she said, "yours will be a
+sad life--I pity you. The world will wound that sensitive heart of
+yours; the world will trample on that generous nature. One of these
+days, perhaps, you will be a wretch like me. No more of that. Get up; I
+have something to show you."
+
+Rising herself, she led the way to the large oaken press, and took her
+bunch of keys out of her pocket again.
+
+"About this old sorrow of mine," she resumed. "Do me justice, Amelius,
+at the outset. I haven't treated it as some women treat their
+sorrows--I haven't nursed it and petted it and made the most of it to
+myself and to others. No! I have tried every means of relief, every
+possible pursuit that could occupy my mind. One example of what I say
+will do as well as a hundred. See it for yourself."
+
+She put the key in the lock. It resisted her first efforts to open it.
+With a contemptuous burst of impatience and a sudden exertion of her
+rare strength, she tore open the two doors of the press. Behind the
+door on the left appeared a row of open shelves. The opposite
+compartment, behind the door on the right, was filled by drawers with
+brass handles. She shut the left door; angrily banging it to, as if the
+opening of it had disclosed something which she did not wish to be
+seen. By the merest chance, Amelius had looked that way first. In the
+one instant in which it was possible to see anything, he had noticed,
+carefully laid out on one of the shelves, a baby's long linen frock and
+cap, turned yellow by the lapse of time.
+
+The half-told story of the past was more than half told now. The
+treasured relics of the infant threw their little glimmer of light on
+the motive which had chosen the subjects of the prints on the wall. A
+child deserted and lost! A child who, by bare possibility, might be
+living still!
+
+She turned towards Amelius suddenly, "There is nothing to interest you
+on _that_ side," she said. "Look at the drawers here; open them for
+yourself." She drew back as she spoke, and pointed to the uppermost of
+the row of drawers. A narrow slip of paper was pasted on it, bearing
+this inscription:--_"Dead Consolations."_
+
+Amelius opened the drawer; it was full of books. "Look at them," she
+said. Amelius, obeying her, discovered dictionaries, grammars,
+exercises, poems, novels, and histories--all in the German language.
+
+"A foreign language tried as a relief," said Mrs. Farnaby, speaking
+quietly behind him. "Month after month of hard study--all forgotten
+now. The old sorrow came back in spite of it. A dead consolation! Open
+the next drawer."
+
+The next drawer revealed water-colours and drawing materials huddled
+together in a corner, and a heap of poor little conventional landscapes
+filling up the rest of the space. As works of art, they were wretched
+in the last degree; monuments of industry and application miserably and
+completely thrown away.
+
+"I had no talent for that pursuit, as you see," said Mrs. Farnaby. "But
+I persevered with it, week after week, month after month. I thought to
+myself, 'I hate it so, it costs me such dreadful trouble, it so worries
+and persecutes and humiliates me, that _this_ surely must keep my mind
+occupied and my thoughts away from myself!' No; the old sorrow stared
+me in the face again on the paper that I was spoiling, through the
+colours that I couldn't learn to use. Another dead consolation! Shut it
+up."
+
+She herself opened a third and a fourth drawer. In one there appeared a
+copy of Euclid, and a slate with the problems still traced on it; the
+other contained a microscope, and the treatises relating to its use.
+"Always the same effort," she said, shutting the door of the press as
+she spoke; "and always the same result. You have had enough of it, and
+so have I." She turned, and pointed to the lathe in the corner, and to
+the clubs and dumb-bells over the mantelpiece. "I can look at _them_
+patiently," she went on; "they give me bodily relief. I work at the
+lathe till my back aches; I swing the clubs till I'm ready to drop with
+fatigue. And then I lie down on the rug there, and sleep it off, and
+forget myself for an hour or two. Come back to the fire again. You have
+seen my dead consolations; you must hear about my living consolation
+next. In justice to Mr. Farnaby--ah, how I hate him!"
+
+She spoke those last vehement words to herself, but with such intense
+bitterness of contempt that the tones were quite loud enough to be
+heard. Amelius looked furtively towards the door. Was there no hope
+that Regina and her friend might return and interrupt them? After what
+he had seen and heard, could _he_ hope to console Mrs. Farnaby? He
+could only wonder what object she could possibly have in view in taking
+him into her confidence. "Am I always to be in a mess with women?" he
+thought to himself. "First poor Mellicent, and now this one. What
+next?" He lit his cigar again. The brotherhood of smokers, and they
+alone, will understand what a refuge it was to him at that moment.
+
+"Give me a light," said Mrs. Farnaby, recalled to the remembrance of
+her own cigar. "I want to know one thing before I go on. Amelius, I
+watched those bright eyes of yours at luncheon-time. Did they tell me
+the truth? You're not in love with my niece, are you?"
+
+Amelius took his cigar out of his mouth, and looked at her.
+
+"Out with it boldly!" she said.
+
+Amelius let it out, to a certain extent. "I admire her very much," he
+answered.
+
+"Ah," Mrs. Farnaby remarked, "you don't know her as well as I do."
+
+The disdainful indifference of her tone irritated Amelius. He was still
+young enough to believe in the existence of gratitude; and Mrs. Farnaby
+had spoken ungratefully. Besides, he was fond enough of Regina already
+to feel offended when she was referred to slightingly.
+
+"I am surprised to hear what you say of her," he burst out. "She is
+quite devoted to you."
+
+"Oh yes," said Mrs. Farnaby, carelessly. "She is devoted to me, of
+course--she is the living consolation I told you of just now. That was
+Mr. Farnaby's notion in adopting her. Mr. Farnaby thought to himself,
+'Here's a ready-made daughter for my wife--that's all this tiresome
+woman wants to comfort her: now we shall do.' Do you know what I call
+that? I call it reasoning like an idiot. A man may be very clever at
+his business--and may be a contemptible fool in other respects. Another
+woman's child a consolation to _me!_ Pah! it makes me sick to think of
+it. I have one merit, Amelius, I don't cant. It's my duty to take care
+of my sister's child; and I do my duty willingly. Regina's a good sort
+of creature--I don't dispute it. But she's like all those tall darkish
+women: there's no backbone in her, no dash; a kind, feeble,
+goody-goody, sugarish disposition; and a deal of quiet obstinacy at the
+bottom of it, I can tell you. Oh yes, I do her justice; I don't deny
+that she's devoted to me, as you say. But I am making a clean breast of
+it now. And you ought to know, and you shall know, that Mr. Farnaby's
+living consolation is no more a consolation to me than the things you
+have seen in the drawers. There! now we've done with Regina. No:
+there's one thing more to be cleared up. When you say you admire her,
+what do you mean? Do you mean to marry her?"
+
+For once in his life Amelius stood on his dignity. "I have too much
+respect for the young lady to answer your question," he said loftily.
+
+"Because, if you do," Mrs. Farnaby proceeded, "I mean to put every
+possible obstacle in your way. In short, I mean to prevent it."
+
+This plain declaration staggered Amelius. He confessed the truth by
+implication in one word.
+
+"Why?" he asked sharply.
+
+"Wait a little, and recover your temper," she answered.
+
+There was a pause. They sat, on either side of the fireplace, and eyed
+each other attentively.
+
+"Now are you ready?" Mrs. Farnaby resumed. "Here is my reason. If you
+marry Regina, or marry anybody, you will settle down somewhere, and
+lead a dull life."
+
+"Well," said Amelius; "and why not, if I like it?"
+
+"Because I want you to remain a roving bachelor; here today and gone
+tomorrow--travelling all over the world, and seeing everything and
+everybody."
+
+"What good will that do to _you,_ Mrs. Farnaby?"
+
+She rose from her own side of the fireplace, crossed to the side on
+which Amelius was sitting, and, standing before him, placed her hands
+heavily on his shoulders. Her eyes grew radiant with a sudden interest
+and animation as they looked down on him, riveted on his face.
+
+"I am still waiting, my friend, for the living consolation that may yet
+come to me," she said. "And, hear this, Amelius! After all the years
+that have passed, you may be the man who brings it to me."
+
+In the momentary silence that followed, they heard a double knock at
+the house-door.
+
+"Regina!" said Mrs. Farnaby.
+
+As the name passed her lips, she sprang to the door of the room, and
+turned the key in the lock.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 2
+
+Amelius rose impulsively from his chair.
+
+Mrs. Farnaby turned at the same moment, and signed to him to resume his
+seat. "You have given me your promise," she whispered. "All I ask of
+you is to be silent." She softly drew the key out of the door, and
+showed it to him. "You can't get out," she said, "unless you take the
+key from me by force!"
+
+Whatever Amelius might think of the situation in which he now found
+himself, the one thing that he could honourably do was to say nothing,
+and submit to it. He remained quietly by the fire. No imaginable
+consideration (he mentally resolved) should induce him to consent to a
+second confidential interview in Mrs. Farnaby's room.
+
+The servant opened the house-door. Regina's voice was heard in the
+hall.
+
+"Has my aunt come in?"
+
+"No, miss."
+
+"Have you heard nothing of her?"
+
+"Nothing, miss."
+
+"Has Mr. Goldenheart been here?"
+
+"No, miss."
+
+"Very extraordinary! What can have become of them, Cecilia?"
+
+The voice of the other lady was heard in answer. "We have probably
+missed them, on leaving the concert room. Don't alarm yourself, Regina.
+I must go back, under any circumstances; the carriage will be waiting
+for me. If I see anything of your aunt, I will say that you are
+expecting her at home."
+
+"One moment, Cecilia! (Thomas, you needn't wait.) Is it really true
+that you don't like Mr. Goldenheart?"
+
+"What! has it come to that, already? I'll try to like him, Regina.
+Goodbye again."
+
+The closing of the street door told that the ladies had separated. The
+sound was followed, in another moment, by the opening and closing of
+the dining-room door. Mrs. Farnaby returned to her chair at the
+fireplace.
+
+"Regina has gone into the dining-room to wait for us," she said. "I see
+you don't like your position here; and I won't keep you more than a few
+minutes longer. You are of course at a loss to understand what I was
+saying to you, when the knock at the door interrupted us. Sit down
+again for five minutes; it fidgets me to see you standing there,
+looking at your boots. I told you I had one consolation still possibly
+left. Judge for yourself what the hope of it is to me, when I own to
+you that I should long since have put an end to my life, without it.
+Don't think I am talking nonsense; I mean what I say. It is one of my
+misfortunes that I have no religious scruples to restrain me. There was
+a time when I believed that religion might comfort me. I once opened my
+heart to a clergyman--a worthy person, who did his best to help me. All
+useless! My heart was too hard, I suppose. It doesn't matter--except to
+give you one more proof that I am thoroughly in earnest. Patience!
+patience! I am coming to the point. I asked you some odd questions, on
+the day when you first dined here? You have forgotten all about them,
+of course?"
+
+"I remember them perfectly well," Amelius answered.
+
+"You remember them? That looks as if you had thought about them
+afterwards. Come! tell me plainly what you did think?"
+
+Amelius told her plainly. She became more and more interested, more and
+more excited, as he went on.
+
+"Quite right!" she exclaimed, starting to her feet and walking swiftly
+backwards and forwards in the room. "There _is_ a lost girl whom I want
+to find; and she is between sixteen and seventeen years old, as you
+thought. Mind! I have no reason--not the shadow of a reason--for
+believing that she is still a living creature. I have only my own
+stupid obstinate conviction; rooted here," she pressed both hands
+fiercely on her heart, "so that nothing can tear it out of me! I have
+lived in that belief--Oh, don't ask me how long! it is so far, so
+miserably far, to look back!" She stopped in the middle of the room.
+Her breath came and went in quick heavy gasps; the first tears that had
+softened the hard wretchedness in her eyes rose in them now, and
+transfigured them with the divine beauty of maternal love. "I won't
+distress you," she said, stamping on the floor, as she struggled with
+the hysterical passion that was raging in her. "Give me a minute, and
+I'll force it down again."
+
+She dropped into a chair, threw her arms heavily on the table, and laid
+her head on them. Amelius thought of the child's frock and cap hidden
+in the cabinet. All that was manly and noble in his nature felt for the
+unhappy woman, whose secret was dimly revealed to him now. The little
+selfish sense of annoyance at the awkward situation in which she had
+placed him, vanished to return no more. He approached her, and put his
+hand gently on her shoulder. "I am truly sorry for you," he said. "Tell
+me how I can help you, and I will do it with all my heart."
+
+"Do you really mean that?" She roughly dashed the tears from her eyes,
+and rose as she put the question. Holding him with one hand, she parted
+the hair back from his forehead with the other. "I must see your whole
+face," she said--"your face will tell me. Yes: you do mean it. The
+world hasn't spoilt you, yet. Do you believe in dreams?"
+
+Amelius looked at her, startled by the sudden transition. She
+deliberately repeated her question.
+
+"I ask you seriously," she said; "do you believe in dreams?"
+
+Amelius answered seriously, on his side, "I can't honestly say that I
+do."
+
+"Ah!" she exclaimed, "like me. I don't believe in dreams, either--I
+wish I did! But it's not in me to believe in superstitions; I'm too
+hard--and I'm sorry for it. I have seen people who were comforted by
+their superstitions; happy people, possessed of faith. Don't you even
+believe that dreams are sometimes fulfilled by chance?"
+
+"Nobody can deny that," Amelius replied; "the instances of it are too
+many. But for one dream fulfilled by a coincidence, there are--"
+
+"A hundred at least that are _not_ fulfilled," Mrs. Farnaby interposed.
+"Very well. I calculate on that. See how little hope can live on! There
+is just the barest possibility that what I dreamed of you the other
+night may come to pass. It's a poor chance; but it has encouraged me to
+take you into my confidence, and ask you to help me."
+
+This strange confession--this sad revelation of despair still
+unconsciously deceiving itself under the disguise of hope--only
+strengthened the compassionate sympathy which Amelius already felt for
+her. "What did you dream about me?" he asked gently.
+
+"It's nothing to tell," she replied. "I was in a room that was quite
+strange to me; and the door opened, and you came in leading a young
+girl by the hand. You said, 'Be happy at last; here she is.' My heart
+knew her instantly, though my eyes had never seen her since the first
+days of her life. And I woke myself, crying for joy. Wait! it's not all
+told yet. I went to sleep again, and dreamed it again, and woke, and
+lay awake for awhile, and slept once more, and dreamed it for the third
+time. Ah, if I could only feel some people's confidence in three times!
+No; it produced an impression on me--and that was all. I got as far as
+thinking to myself, there is just a chance; I haven't a creature in the
+world to help me; I may as well speak to him. O, you needn't remind me
+that there is a rational explanation of my dream. I have read it all
+up, in the Encyclopaedia in the library. One of the ideas of wise men
+is that we think of something, consciously or unconsciously, in the
+daytime, and then reproduce it in a dream. That's my case, I daresay.
+When you were first introduced to me, and when I heard where you had
+been brought up, I thought directly that _she_ might have been one
+among the many forlorn creatures who had drifted to your Community, and
+that I might find her through you. Say that thought went to my bed with
+me--and we have the explanation of my dream. Never mind! There is my
+one poor chance in a hundred still left. You will remember me, Amelius,
+if you _should_ meet with her, won't you?"
+
+The implied confession of her own intractable character, without
+religious faith to ennoble it, without even imagination to refine
+it--the unconscious disclosure of the one tender and loving instinct in
+her nature still piteously struggling for existence, with no sympathy
+to sustain it, with no light to guide it--would have touched the heart
+of any man not incurably depraved. Amelius spoke with the fervour of
+his young enthusiasm. "I would go to the uttermost ends of the earth,
+if I thought I could do you any good. But, oh, it sounds so hopeless!"
+
+She shook her head, and smiled faintly.
+
+"Don't say that! You are free, you have money, you will travel about in
+the world and amuse yourself. In a week you will see more than
+stay-at-home people see in a year. How do we know what the future has
+in store for us? I have my own idea. She may be lost in the labyrinth
+of London, or she may be hundreds of thousands of miles away. Amuse
+yourself, Amelius--amuse yourself. Tomorrow or ten years hence, you
+might meet with her!"
+
+In sheer mercy to the poor creature, Amelius refused to encourage her
+delusion. "Even supposing such a thing could happen," he objected, "how
+am I to know the lost girl? You can't describe her to me; you have not
+seen her since she was a child. Do you know anything of what happened
+at the time--I mean at the time when she was lost?"
+
+"I know nothing."
+
+"Absolutely nothing?"
+
+"Absolutely nothing."
+
+"Have you never felt a suspicion of how it happened?"
+
+Her face changed: she frowned as she looked at him. "Not till weeks and
+months had passed," she said, "not till it was too late. I was ill at
+the time. When my mind got clear again, I began to suspect one
+particular person--little by little, you know; noticing trifles, and
+thinking about them afterwards." She stopped, evidently restraining
+herself on the point of saying more.
+
+Amelius tried to lead her on. "Did you suspect the person--?" he began.
+
+"I suspected him of casting the child helpless on the world!" Mrs.
+Farnaby interposed, with a sudden burst of fury. "Don't ask me any more
+about it, or I shall break out and shock you!" She clenched her fists
+as she said the words. "It's well for that man," she muttered between
+her teeth, "that I have never got beyond suspecting, and never found
+out the truth! Why did you turn my mind that way? You shouldn't have
+done it. Help me back again to what we were saying a minute ago. You
+made some objection; you said--?"
+
+"I said," Amelius reminded her, "that, even if I did meet with the
+missing girl, I couldn't possibly know it. And I must say more than
+that--I don't see how you yourself could be sure of recognizing her, if
+she stood before you at this moment."
+
+He spoke very gently, fearing to irritate her. She showed no sign of
+irritation--she looked at him, and listened to him, attentively.
+
+"Are you setting a trap for me?" she asked. "No!" she cried, before
+Amelius could answer, "I am not mean enough to distrust you--I forgot
+myself. You have innocently said something that rankles in my mind. I
+can't leave it where you have left it; I don't like to be told that I
+shouldn't recognize her. Give me time to think. I must clear this up."
+
+She consulted her own thoughts, keeping her eyes fixed on Amelius.
+
+"I am going to speak plainly," she announced, with a sudden appearance
+of resolution. "Listen to this. When I banged to the door of that big
+cupboard of mine, it was because I didn't want you to see something on
+the shelves. Did you see anything in spite of me?"
+
+The question was not an easy one to answer. Amelius hesitated. Mrs.
+Farnaby insisted on a reply.
+
+"Did you see anything?" she reiterated
+
+Amelius owned that he had seen something.
+
+She turned away from him, and looked into the fire. Her firm full tones
+sank so low, when she spoke next, that he could barely hear them.
+
+"Was it something belonging to a child?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Was it a baby's frock and cap? Answer me. We have gone too far to go
+back. I don't want apologies or explanations--I want, Yes or No."
+
+"Yes."
+
+There was an interval of silence. She never moved; she still looked
+into fire--looked, as if all her past life was pictured there in the
+burning coals.
+
+"Do you despise me?" she asked at last, very quietly.
+
+"As God hears me, I am only sorry for you!" Amelius answered.
+
+Another woman would have melted into tears. This woman still looked
+into the fire--and that was all. "What a good fellow!" she said to
+herself, "what a good fellow he is!"
+
+There was another pause. She turned towards him again as abruptly as
+she had turned away.
+
+"I had hoped to spare you, and to spare myself," she said. "If the
+miserable truth has come out, it is through no curiosity of yours, and
+(God knows!) against every wish of mine. I don't know if you really
+felt like a friend towards me before--you must be my friend now. Don't
+speak! I know I can trust you. One last word, Amelius, about my lost
+child. You doubt whether I should recognize her, if she stood before me
+now. That might be quite true, if I had only my own poor hopes and
+anxieties to guide me. But I have something else to guide me--and,
+after what has passed between us, you may as well know what it is: it
+might even, by accident, guide you. Don't alarm yourself; it's nothing
+distressing this time. How can I explain it?" she went on; pausing, and
+speaking in some perplexity to herself. "It would be easier to show
+it--and why not?" She addressed herself to Amelius once more. "I'm a
+strange creature," she resumed. "First, I worry you about my own
+affairs--then I puzzle you--then I make you sorry for me--and now
+(would you think it?) I am going to amuse you! Amelius, are you an
+admirer of pretty feet?"
+
+Amelius had heard of men (in books) who had found reason to doubt
+whether their own ears were not deceiving them. For the first time, he
+began to understand those men, and to sympathize with them. He
+admitted, in a certain bewildered way, that he was an admirer of pretty
+feet--and waited for what was to come next.
+
+"When a woman has a pretty hand," Mrs. Farnaby proceeded; "she is ready
+enough to show it. When she goes out to a ball, she favours you with a
+view of her bosom, and a part of her back. Now tell me! If there is no
+impropriety in a naked bosom--where is the impropriety in a naked
+foot?"
+
+Amelius agreed, like a man in a dream.
+
+"Where, indeed!" he remarked--and waited again for what was to come
+next.
+
+"Look out of the window," said Mrs. Farnaby.
+
+Amelius obeyed. The window had been opened for a few inches at the top,
+no doubt to ventilate the room. The dull view of the courtyard was
+varied by the stables at the farther end, and by the kitchen skylight
+rising in the middle of the open space. As Amelius looked out, he
+observed that some person at that moment in the kitchen required
+apparently a large supply of fresh air. The swinging window, on the
+side of the skylight which was nearest to him, was invisibly and
+noiselessly pulled open from below; the similar window, on the other
+side, being already wide open also. Judging by appearance, the
+inhabitants of the kitchen possessed a merit which is exceedingly rare
+among domestic servants--they understood the laws of ventilation, and
+appreciated the blessing of fresh air.
+
+"That will do," said Mrs. Farnaby. "You can turn round now."
+
+Amelius turned. Mrs. Farnaby's boots and stockings were on the
+hearthrug, and one of Mrs. Farnaby's feet was placed, ready for
+inspection, on the chair which he had just left. "Look at my right foot
+first," she said, speaking gravely and composedly in her ordinary tone.
+
+It was well worth looking at--a foot equally beautiful in form and in
+colour: the instep arched and high, the ankle at once delicate and
+strong, the toes tinged with rose-colour at the tips. In brief, it was
+a foot to be photographed, to be cast in plaster, to be fondled and
+kissed. Amelius attempted to express his admiration, but was not
+allowed to get beyond the first two or three words. "No," Mrs. Farnaby
+explained, "this is not vanity--simply information. You have seen my
+right foot; and you have noticed that there is nothing the matter with
+it. Very well. Now look at my left foot."
+
+She put her left foot up on the chair. "Look between the third toe and
+the fourth," she said.
+
+Following his instructions, Amelius discovered that the beauty of the
+foot was spoilt, in this case, by a singular defect. The two toes were
+bound together by a flexible web, or membrane, which held them to each
+other as high as the insertion of the nail on either side.
+
+"Do you wonder," Mrs. Farnaby asked, "why I show you the fault in my
+foot? Amelius! my poor darling was born with my deformity--and I want
+you to know exactly what it is, because neither you nor I can say what
+reason for remembering it there may not be in the future." She stopped,
+as if to give him an opportunity of speaking. A man shallow and
+flippant by nature might have seen the disclosure in a grotesque
+aspect. Amelius was sad and silent. "I like you better and better," she
+went on. "You are not like the common run of men. Nine out of ten of
+them would have turned what I have just told you into a joke--nine out
+of ten would have said, 'Am I to ask every girl I meet to show me her
+left foot?' You are above that; you understand me. Have I no means of
+recognizing my own child, now?"
+
+She smiled, and took her foot off the chair--then, after a moment's
+thought, she pointed to it again.
+
+"Keep this as strictly secret as you keep everything else," she said.
+"In the past days, when I used to employ people privately to help me to
+find her, it was my only defence against being imposed upon. Rogues and
+vagabonds thought of other marks and signs--but not one of them could
+guess at such a mark as that. Have you got your pocket-book, Amelius?
+In case we are separated at some later time, I want to write the name
+and address in it of a person whom we can trust. I persist, you see, in
+providing for the future. There's the one chance in a hundred that my
+dream may come true--and you have so many years before you, and so many
+girls to meet with in that time!"
+
+She handed back the pocket-book, which Amelius had given to her, after
+having inscribed a man's name and address on one of the blank leaves.
+
+"He was my father's lawyer," she explained; "and he and his son are
+both men to be trusted. Suppose I am ill, for instance--no, that's
+absurd; I never had a day's illness in my life. Suppose I am dead
+(killed perhaps by some accident, or perhaps by my own hand), the
+lawyers have my written instructions, in the case of my child being
+found. Then again--I am such an unaccountable woman--I may go away
+somewhere, all by myself. Never mind! The lawyers shall have my
+address, and my positive orders (though they keep it a secret from all
+the world besides) to tell it to you. I don't ask your pardon, Amelius,
+for troubling you. The chances are so terribly against me; it is all
+but impossible that I shall ever see you--as I saw you in my
+dream--coming into the room, leading my girl by the hand. Odd, isn't
+it? This is how I veer about between hope and despair. Well, it may
+amuse you to remember it, one of these days. Years hence, when I am at
+rest in mother earth, and when you are a middle aged married man, you
+may tell your wife how strangely you once became the forlorn hope of
+the most wretched woman that ever lived--and you may say to each other,
+as you sit by your snug fireside, 'Perhaps that poor lost daughter is
+still living somewhere, and wondering who her mother was.' No! I won't
+let you see the tears in my eyes again--I'll let you go at last."
+
+She led the way to the door--a creature to be pitied, if ever there was
+a pitiable creature yet: a woman whose whole nature was maternal, who
+was nothing if not a mother; and who had lived through sixteen years of
+barren life, in the hopeless anticipation of recovering her lost child!
+
+"Goodbye, and thank you," she said. "I want to be left by myself, my
+dear, with that little frock and cap which you found out in spite of
+me. Go, and tell my niece it's all right--and don't be stupid enough to
+fall in love with a girl who has no love to give you in return." She
+pushed Amelius into the hall. "Here he is, Regina!" she called out; "I
+have done with him."
+
+Before Amelius could speak, she had shut herself into her room. He
+advanced along the hall, and met Regina at the door of the dining-room.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 3
+
+The young lady spoke first.
+
+"Mr. Goldenheart," she said, with the coldest possible politeness,
+"perhaps you will be good enough to explain what this means?"
+
+She turned back into the dining-room. Amelius followed her in silence.
+"Here I am, in another scrape with a woman!" he thought to himself.
+"Are men in general as unlucky as I am, I wonder?"
+
+"You needn't close the door," said Regina maliciously. "Everybody in
+the house is welcome to hear what _I_ have to say to you."
+
+Amelius made a mistake at the outset--he tried what a little humility
+would do to help him. There is probably no instance on record in which
+humility on the part of a man has ever really found its way to the
+indulgence of an irritated woman. The best and the worst of them alike
+have at least one virtue in common--they secretly despise a man who is
+not bold enough to defend himself when they are angry with him.
+
+"I hope I have not offended you?" Amelius ventured to say.
+
+She tossed her head contemptuously. "Oh dear, no! I am not offended.
+Only a little surprised at your being so very ready to oblige my aunt."
+
+In the short experience of her which had fallen to the lot of Amelius,
+she had never looked so charmingly as she looked now. The nervous
+irritability under which she was suffering brightened her face with the
+animation which was wanting in it at ordinary times. Her soft brown
+eyes sparkled; her smooth dusky cheeks glowed with a warm red flush;
+her tall supple figure asserted its full dignity, robed in a superb
+dress of silken purple and black lace, which set off her personal
+attractions to the utmost advantage. She not only roused the admiration
+of Amelius--she unconsciously gave him back the self-possession which
+he had, for the moment, completely lost. He was man enough to feel the
+humiliation of being despised by the one woman in the world whose love
+he longed to win; and he answered with a sudden firmness of tone and
+look that startled her.
+
+"You had better speak more plainly still, Miss Regina," he said. "You
+may as well blame me at once for the misfortune of being a man."
+
+She drew back a step. "I don't understand you," she answered.
+
+"Do I owe no forbearance to a woman who asks a favour of me?" Amelius
+went on. "If a man had asked me to steal into the house on tiptoe, I
+should have said--well! I should have said something I had better not
+repeat. If a man had stood between me and the door when you came back,
+I should have taken him by the collar and pulled him out of my way.
+Could I do that, if you please, with Mrs. Farnaby?"
+
+Regina saw the weak point of this defence with a woman's quickness of
+perception. "I can't offer any opinion," she said; "especially when you
+lay all the blame on my aunt."
+
+Amelius opened his lips to protest--and thought better of it. He wisely
+went straight on with what he had still to say.
+
+"If you will let me finish," he resumed, "you will understand me a
+little better than that. Whatever blame there may be, Miss Regina, I am
+quite ready to take on myself. I merely wanted to remind you that I was
+put in an awkward position, and that I couldn't civilly find a way out
+of it. As for your aunt, I will only say this: I know of hardly any
+sacrifice that I would not submit to, if I could be of the smallest
+service to her. After what I heard, while I was in her room--"
+
+Regina interrupted him at that point. "I suppose it's a secret between
+you?" she said.
+
+"Yes; it's a secret," Amelius proceeded, "as you say. But one thing I
+may tell you, without breaking my promise. Mrs. Farnaby has--well! has
+filled me with kindly feeling towards her. She has a claim, poor soul,
+to my truest sympathy. And I shall remember her claim. And I shall be
+faithful to what I feel towards her as long as I live!"
+
+It was not very elegantly expressed; but the tone was the tone of true
+feeling in his voice trembled, his colour rose. He stood before her,
+speaking with perfect simplicity straight from his heart--and the
+woman's heart felt it instantly. This was the man whose ridicule she
+had dreaded, if her aunt's rash confidence struck him in an absurd
+light! She sat down in silence, with a grave sad face, reproaching
+herself for the wrong which her too ready distrust had inflicted on
+him; longing to ask his pardon, and yet hesitating to say the simple
+words.
+
+He approached her chair, and, placing his hand on the back of it, said
+gently, "do you think a little better of me now?"
+
+She had taken off her gloves: she silently folded and refolded them in
+her lap.
+
+"Your good opinion is very precious to me," Amelius pleaded, bending a
+little nearer to her. "I can't tell you how sorry I should be--" He
+stopped, and put it more strongly. "I shall never have courage enough
+to enter the house again, if I have made you think meanly of me."
+
+A woman who cared nothing for him would have easily answered this. The
+calm heart of Regina began to flutter: something warned her not to
+trust herself to speak. Little as he suspected it, Amelius had troubled
+the tranquil temperament of this woman. He had found his way to those
+secret reserves of tenderness--placid and deep--of which she was hardly
+conscious herself, until his influence had enlightened her. She was
+afraid to look up at him; her eyes would have told him the truth. She
+lifted her long, finely shaped, dusky hand, and offered it to him as
+the best answer that she could make.
+
+Amelius took it, looked at it, and ventured on his first familiarity
+with her--he kissed it. She only said, "Don't!" very faintly.
+
+"The Queen would let me kiss her hand if I went to Court," Amelius
+reminded her, with a pleasant inner conviction of his wonderful
+readiness at finding an excuse.
+
+She smiled in spite of herself. "Would the Queen let you hold it?" she
+asked, gently releasing her hand, and looking at him as she drew it
+away. The peace was made without another word of explanation. Amelius
+took a chair at her side. "I'm quite happy now you have forgiven me,"
+he said. "You don't know how I admire you--and how anxious I am to
+please you, if I only knew how!"
+
+He drew his chair a little nearer; his eyes told her plainly that his
+language would soon become warmer still, if she gave him the smallest
+encouragement. This was one reason for changing the subject. But there
+was another reason, more cogent still. Her first painful sense of
+having treated him unjustly had ceased to make itself keenly felt; the
+lower emotions had their opportunity of asserting themselves.
+Curiosity, irresistible curiosity, took possession of her mind, and
+urged her to penetrate the mystery of the interview between Amelius and
+her aunt.
+
+"Will you think me very indiscreet," she began slyly, "if I made a
+little confession to you?"
+
+Amelius was only too eager to hear the confession: it would pave the
+way for something of the same sort on his part.
+
+"I understand my aunt making the heat in the concert-room a pretence
+for taking you away with her," Regina proceeded; "but what astonishes
+me is that she should have admitted you to her confidence after so
+short an acquaintance. You are still--what shall I say?--you are still
+a new friend of ours."
+
+"How long will it be before I become an old friend?" Amelius asked. "I
+mean," he added, with artful emphasis, "an old friend of _yours?"_
+
+Confused by the question, Regina passed it over without notice. "I am
+Mrs. Farnaby's adopted daughter," she resumed. "I have been with her
+since I was a little girl--and yet she has never told me any of her
+secrets. Pray don't suppose that I am tempting you to break faith with
+my aunt! I am quite incapable of such conduct as that."
+
+Amelius saw his way to a thoroughly commonplace compliment which
+possessed the charm of complete novelty so far as his experience was
+concerned. He would actually have told her that she was incapable of
+doing anything which was not perfectly becoming to a charming person,
+if she had only given him time! She was too eager in the pursuit of her
+own object to give him time. "I _should_ like to know," she went on,
+"whether my aunt has been influenced in any way by a dream that she had
+about you."
+
+Amelius started. "Has she told you of her dream?" he asked, with some
+appearance of alarm.
+
+Regina blushed and hesitated, "My room is next to my aunt's," she
+explained. "We keep the door between us open. I am often in and out
+when she is disturbed in her sleep. She was talking in her sleep, and I
+heard your name--nothing more. Perhaps I ought not to have mentioned
+it? Perhaps I ought not to expect you to answer me?"
+
+"There is no harm in my answering you," said Amelius. "The dream really
+had something to do with her trusting me. You may not think quite so
+unfavourably of her conduct now you know that."
+
+"It doesn't matter what I think," Regina replied constrainedly. "If my
+aunt's secrets have interested you--what right have I to object? I am
+sure I shall say nothing. Though I am not in my aunt's confidence, nor
+in your confidence, you will find I can keep a secret."
+
+She folded up her gloves for the twentieth time at least, and gave
+Amelius his opportunity of retiring by rising from her chair. He made a
+last effort to recover the ground that he had lost, without betraying
+Mrs. Farnaby's trust in him.
+
+"I am sure you can keep a secret," he said. "I should like to give you
+one of my secrets to keep--only I mustn't take the liberty, I suppose,
+just yet?"
+
+She new perfectly well what he wanted to say. Her heart began to
+quicken its beat; she was at a loss how to answer. After an awkward
+silence, she made an attempt to dismiss him. "Don't let me detain you,"
+she said, "if you have any engagement."
+
+Amelius silently looked round him for his hat. On a table behind him a
+monthly magazine lay open, exhibiting one of those melancholy modern
+"illustrations" which present the English art of our day in its laziest
+and lowest state of degradation. A vacuous young giant, in flowing
+trousers, stood in a garden, and stared at a plump young giantess with
+enormous eyes and rotund hips, vacantly boring holes in the grass with
+the point of her parasol. Perfectly incapable of explaining itself,
+this imbecile production put its trust in the printer, whose charitable
+types helped it, at the bottom of the page, with the title of "Love at
+First Sight." On those remarkable words Amelius seized, with the
+desperation of the drowning man, catching at the proverbial straw. They
+offered him a chance of pleading his cause, this time, with a happy
+indirectness of allusion at which not even a young lady's
+susceptibility could take offence.
+
+"Do you believe in that?" he said, pointing to the illustration.
+
+Regina declined to understand him. "In what?" she asked.
+
+"In love at first sight."
+
+It would be speaking with inexcusable rudeness to say plainly that she
+told him a lie. Let the milder form of expression be, that she modestly
+concealed the truth. "I don't know anything about it," she said.
+
+_"I_ do," Amelius remarked smartly.
+
+She persisted in looking at the illustration. Was there an infection of
+imbecility in that fatal work? She was too simple to understand him,
+even yet! "You do--what?" she inquired innocently.
+
+"I know what love at first sight is," Amelius burst out.
+
+Regina turned over the leaves of the magazine. "Ah," she said, "you
+have read the story."
+
+"I haven't read the story," Amelius answered. "I know what I felt
+myself--on being introduced to a young lady."
+
+She looked up at him with a sly smile. "A young lady in America?" she
+asked.
+
+"In England, Miss Regina." He tried to take her hand--but she kept it
+out of his reach. "In London," he went on, drifting back into his
+customary plainness of speech. "In this very street," he resumed,
+seizing her hand before she was aware of him. Too much bewildered to
+know what else to do, Regina took refuge desperately in shaking hands
+with him. "Goodbye, Mr. Goldenheart," she said--and gave him his
+dismissal for the second time.
+
+Amelius submitted to his fate; there was something in her eyes which
+warned him that he had ventured far enough for that day.
+
+"May I call again, soon?" he asked piteously.
+
+"No!" answered a voice at the door which they both recognized--the
+voice of Mrs. Farnaby.
+
+"Yes!" Regina whispered to him, as her aunt entered the room. Mrs.
+Farnaby's interference, following on the earlier events of the day, had
+touched the young lady's usually placable temper in a tender place--and
+Amelius reaped the benefit of it.
+
+Mrs. Farnaby walked straight up to him, put her hand in his arm, and
+led him out into the hall.
+
+"I had my suspicions," she said; "and I find they have not misled me.
+Twice already, I have warned you to let my niece alone. For the third,
+and last time, I tell you that she is as cold as ice. She will trifle
+with you as long as it flatters her vanity; and she will throw you
+over, as she has thrown other men over. Have your fling, you foolish
+fellow, before you marry anybody. Pay no more visits to this house,
+unless they are visits to me. I shall expect to hear from you." She
+paused, and pointed to a statue which was one of the ornaments in the
+hall. "Look at that bronze woman with the clock in her hand. That's
+Regina. Be off with you--goodbye!"
+
+Amelius found himself in the street. Regina was looking out at the
+dining-room window. He kissed his hand to her: she smiled and bowed.
+"Damn the other men!" Amelius said to himself. "I'll call on her
+tomorrow."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 4
+
+Returning to his hotel, he found three letters waiting for him on the
+sitting-room table.
+
+The first letter that he opened was from his landlord, and contained
+his bill for the past week. As he looked at the sum total, Amelius
+presented to perfection the aspect of a serious young man. He took pen,
+ink, and paper, and made some elaborate calculations. Money that he had
+too generously lent, or too freely given away, appeared in his
+statement of expenses, as well as money that he had spent on himself.
+The result may be plainly stated in his own words: "Goodbye to the
+hotel; I must go into lodgings."
+
+Having arrived at this wise decision, he opened the second letter. It
+proved to be written by the lawyers who had already communicated with
+him at Tadmor, on the subject of his inheritance.
+
+
+"DEAR SIR,
+
+"The enclosed, insufficiently addressed as you will perceive, only
+reached us this day. We beg to remain, etc."
+
+
+Amelius opened the letter enclosed, and turned to the signature for
+information. The name instantly took him back to the Community: the
+writer was Mellicent.
+
+Her letter began abruptly, in these terms:
+
+"Do you remember what I said to you when we parted at Tadmor? I said,
+'Be comforted, Amelius, the end is not yet.' And I said again, 'You
+will come back to me.'
+
+"I remind you of this, my friend--directing to your lawyers, whose
+names I remember when their letter to you was publicly read in the
+Common Room. Once or twice a year I shall continue to remind you of
+those parting words of mine: there will be a time perhaps when you will
+thank me for doing so.
+
+"In the mean while, light your pipe with my letters; my letters don't
+matter. If I can comfort you, and reconcile you to your life--years
+hence, when you, too, my Amelius, may be one of the Fallen Leaves like
+me--then I shall not have lived and suffered in vain; my last days on
+earth will be the happiest days that I have ever seen.
+
+"Be pleased not to answer these lines, or any other written words of
+mine that may follow, so long as you are prosperous and happy. With
+_that_ part of your life I have nothing to do. You will find friends
+wherever you go--among the women especially. Your generous nature shows
+itself frankly in your face; your manly gentleness and sweetness speak
+in every tone of your voice; we poor women feel drawn towards you by an
+attraction which we are not able to resist. Have you fallen in love
+already with some beautiful English girl? Oh, be careful and prudent!
+Be sure, before you set your heart on her, that she is worthy of you!
+So many women are cruel and deceitful. Some of them will make you
+believe you have won their love, when you have only flattered their
+vanity; and some are poor weak creatures whose minds are set on their
+own interests, and who may let bad advisers guide them, when you are
+not by. For your own sake, take care!
+
+"I am living with my sister, at New York. The days and weeks glide by
+me quietly; you are in my thoughts and my prayers; I have nothing to
+complain of; I wait and hope. When the time of my banishment from the
+Community has expired, I shall go back to Tadmor; and there you will
+find me, Amelius, the first to welcome you when your spirits are
+sinking under the burden of life, and your heart turns again to the
+friends of your early days.
+
+"Goodbye, my dear--goodbye!"
+
+
+Amelius laid the letter aside, touched and saddened by the artless
+devotion to him which it expressed. He was conscious also of a feeling
+of uneasy surprise, when he read the lines which referred to his
+possible entanglement with some beautiful English girl. Here, with
+widely different motives, was Mrs. Farnaby's warning repeated, by a
+stranger writing from another quarter of the globe! It was an odd
+coincidence, to say the least of it. After thinking for a while, he
+turned abruptly to the third letter that was waiting for him. He was
+not at ease; his mind felt the need of relief.
+
+The third letter was from Rufus Dingwell; announcing the close of his
+tour in Ireland, and his intention of shortly joining Amelius in
+London. The excellent American expressed, with his customary absence of
+reserve, his fervent admiration of Irish hospitality, Irish beauty, and
+Irish whisky. "Green Erin wants but one thing more," Rufus predicted,
+"to be a Paradise on earth--it wants the day to come when we shall send
+an American minister to the Irish Republic." Laughing over this quaint
+outbreak, Amelius turned from the first page to the second. As his eyes
+fell on the next paragraph, a sudden change passed over him; he let the
+letter drop on the floor.
+
+"One last word," the American wrote, "about that nice long bright
+letter of yours. I have read it with strict attention, and thought over
+it considerably afterwards. Don't be riled, friend Amelius, if I tell
+you in plain words, that your account of the Farnabys doesn't make me
+happy--quite the contrary, I do assure you. My back is set up, sir,
+against that family. You will do well to drop them; and, above all
+things, mind what you are about with the brown miss, who has found her
+way to your favourable opinion in such an almighty hurry. Do me a
+favour, my good boy. Just wait till I have seen her, will you?"
+
+Mrs. Farnaby, Mellicent, Rufus--all three strangers to each other; and
+all three agreed nevertheless in trying to part him from the beautiful
+young Englishwoman! "I don't care," Amelius thought to himself "They
+may say what they please--I'll marry Regina, if she will have me!"
+
+
+
+BOOK THE FOURTH
+
+LOVE AND MONEY
+
+CHAPTER 1
+
+In an interval of no more than three weeks what events may not present
+themselves? what changes may not take place? Behold Amelius, on the
+first drizzling day of November, established in respectable lodgings,
+at a moderate weekly rent. He stands before his small fireside, and
+warms his back with an Englishman's severe sense of enjoyment. The
+cheap looking-glass on the mantelpiece reflects the head and shoulders
+of a new Amelius. His habits are changed; his social position is in
+course of development. Already, he is a strict economist. Before long,
+he expects to become a married man.
+
+It is good to be economical: it is, perhaps, better still to be the
+accepted husband of a handsome young woman. But, for all that, a man in
+a state of moral improvement, with prospects which his less favoured
+fellow creatures may reasonably envy, is still a man subject to the
+mischievous mercy of circumstances, and capable of feeling it keenly.
+The face of the new Amelius wore an expression of anxiety, and, more
+remarkable yet, the temper of the new Amelius was out of order.
+
+For the first time in his life he found himself considering trivial
+questions of sixpences, and small favours of discount for cash
+payments--an irritating state of things in itself. There were more
+serious anxieties, however, to trouble him than these. He had no reason
+to complain of the beloved object herself. Not twelve hours since he
+had said to Regina, with a voice that faltered, and a heart that beat
+wildly, "Are you fond enough of me to let me marry you?" And she had
+answered placidly, with a heart that would have satisfied the most
+exacting stethoscope in the medical profession, "Yes, if you like."
+There was a moment of rapture, when she submitted for the first time to
+be kissed, and when she consented, on being gently reminded that it was
+expected of her, to return the kiss--once, and no more. But there was
+also an attendant train of serious considerations which followed on the
+heels of Amelius when the kissing was over, and when he had said
+goodbye for the day.
+
+He had two women for enemies, both resolutely against him in the matter
+of his marriage.
+
+Regina's correspondent and bosom friend, Cecilia, who had begun by
+disliking him, without knowing why, persisted in maintaining her
+unfavourable opinion of the new friend of the Farnabys. She was a young
+married woman; and she had an influence over Regina which promised,
+when the fit opportunity came, to make itself felt. The second, and by
+far the more powerful hostile influence, was the influence of Mrs.
+Farnaby. Nothing could exceed the half sisterly, half motherly,
+goodwill with which she received Amelius on those rare occasions when
+they happened to meet, unembarrassed by the presence of a third person
+in the room. Without actually reverting to what had passed between them
+during their memorable interview, Mrs. Farnaby asked questions, plainly
+showing that the forlorn hope which she associated with Amelius was a
+hope still firmly rooted in her mind. "Have you been much about London
+lately?" "Have you met with any girls who have taken your fancy?" "Are
+you getting tired of staying in the same place, and are you going to
+travel soon?" Inquiries such as these she was, sooner or later, sure to
+make when they were alone. But if Regina happened to enter the room, or
+if Amelius contrived to find his way to her in some other part of the
+house, Mrs. Farnaby deliberately shortened the interview and silenced
+the lovers--still as resolute as ever to keep Amelius exposed to the
+adventurous freedom of a bachelor's life. For the last week, his only
+opportunities of speaking to Regina had been obtained for him secretly
+by the well-rewarded devotion of her maid. And he had now the prospect
+before him of asking Mr. Farnaby for the hand of his adopted daughter,
+with the certainty of the influence of two women being used against
+him--even if he succeeded in obtaining a favourable reception for his
+proposal from the master of the house.
+
+Under such circumstances as these--alone, on a rainy November day, in a
+lodging on the dreary eastward side of the Tottenham Court Road--even
+Amelius bore the aspect of a melancholy man. He was angry with his
+cigar because it refused to light freely. He was angry with the poor
+deaf servant-of-all-work, who entered the room, after one thumping
+knock at the door, and made, in muffled tones, the barbarous
+announcement, "Here's somebody a-wantin' to see yer."
+
+"Who the devil is Somebody?" Amelius shouted.
+
+"Somebody is a citizen of the United States," answered Rufus, quietly
+entering the room. "And he's sorry to find Claude A. Goldenheart's
+temperature at boiling-point already!"
+
+He had not altered in the slightest degree since he had left the
+steamship at Queenstown. Irish hospitality had not fattened him; the
+change from sea to land had not suggested to him the slightest
+alteration in his dress. He still wore the huge felt hat in which he
+had first presented himself to notice on the deck of the vessel. The
+maid-of-all-work raised her eyes to the face of the long lean stranger,
+overshadowed by the broadbrimmed hat, in reverent amazement. "My love
+to you, miss," said Rufus, with his customary grave cordiality; _"I'll_
+shut the door." Having dismissed the maid with that gentle hint, he
+shook hands heartily with Amelius. "Well, I call this a juicy morning,"
+he said, just as if they had met at the cabin breakfast-table as usual.
+
+For the moment, at least, Amelius brightened at the sight of his
+fellow-traveller. "I am really glad to see you," he said. "It's lonely
+in these new quarters, before one gets used to them."
+
+Rufus relieved himself of his hat and great coat, and silently looked
+about the room. "I'm big in the bones," he remarked, surveying the
+rickety lodging-house furniture with some suspicion; "and I'm a trifle
+heavier than I look. I shan't break one of these chairs if I sit down
+on it, shall I?" Passing round the table (littered with books and
+letters) in search of the nearest chair, he accidentally brushed
+against a sheet of paper with writing on it. "Memorandum of friends in
+London, to be informed of my change of address," he read, looking at
+the paper, as he picked it up, with the friendly freedom that
+characterized him. "You have made pretty good use of your time, my son,
+since I took my leave of you in Queenstown harbour. I call this a
+reasonable long list of acquaintances made by a young stranger in
+London."
+
+"I met with an old friend of my family at the hotel," Amelius
+explained. "He was a great loss to my poor father, when he got an
+appointment in India; and, now he has returned, he has been equally
+kind to me. I am indebted to his introduction for most of the names on
+that list."
+
+"Yes?" said Rufus, in the interrogative tone of a man who was waiting
+to hear more. "I'm listening, though I may not look like it. Git
+along."
+
+Amelius looked at his visitor, wondering in what precise direction he
+was to "git along."
+
+"I'm no friend to partial information," Rufus proceeded; "I like to
+round it off complete, as it were, in my own mind. There are names on
+this list that you haven't accounted for yet. Who provided you, sir,
+with the balance of your new friends?"
+
+Amelius answered, not very willingly, "I met them at Mr. Farnaby's
+house."
+
+Rufus looked up from the list with the air of a man surprised by
+disagreeable information, and unwilling to receive it too readily.
+"How?" he exclaimed, using the old English equivalent (often heard in
+America) for the modern "What?"
+
+"I met them at Mr. Farnaby's," Amelius repeated.
+
+"Did you happen to receive a letter of my writing, dated Dublin?" Rufus
+asked.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Do you set any particular value on my advice?"
+
+"Certainly!"
+
+"And you cultivate social relations with Farnaby and family,
+notwithstanding?"
+
+"I have motives for being friendly with them, which--which I haven't
+had time to explain to you yet."
+
+Rufus stretched out his long legs on the floor, and fixed his shrewd
+grave eyes steadily on Amelius.
+
+"My friend," he said, quietly, "in respect of personal appearance and
+pleasing elasticity of spirits, I find you altered for the worse, I do.
+It may be Liver, or it may be Love. I reckon, now I think of it, you're
+too young yet for Liver. It's the brown miss--that's what 'tis. I hate
+that girl, sir, by instinct."
+
+"A nice way of talking of a young lady you never saw!" Amelius broke
+out.
+
+Rufus smiled grimly. "Go ahead!" he said. "If you can get vent in
+quarrelling with me, go ahead, my son."
+
+He looked round the room again, with his hands in his pockets,
+whistling. Descending to the table in due course of time, his quick eye
+detected a photograph placed on the open writing desk which Amelius had
+been using earlier in the day. Before it was possible to stop him, the
+photograph was in his hand. "I believe I've got her likeness," he
+announced. "I do assure you I take pleasure in making her acquaintance
+in this sort of way. Well, now, I declare she's a columnar creature!
+Yes, sir; I do justice to your native produce--your fine fleshy
+beef-fed English girl. But I tell you this: after a child or two, that
+sort runs to fat, and you find you have married more of her than you
+bargained for. To what lengths may you have proceeded, Amelius, with
+this splendid and spanking person?"
+
+Amelius was just on the verge of taking offence. "Speak of her
+respectfully," he said, "if you expect me to answer you."
+
+Rufus stared in astonishment. "I'm paying her all manner of
+compliments," he protested, "and you're not satisfied yet. My friend, I
+still find something about you, on this occasion, which reminds me of
+meat cut against the grain. You're almost nasty--you are! The air of
+London, I reckon, isn't at all the thing for you. Well, it don't matter
+to me; I like you. Afloat or ashore, I like you. Do you want to know
+what I should do, in your place, if I found myself steering a little
+too nigh to the brown miss? I should--well, to put it in one word, I
+should scatter. Where's the harm, I'll ask you, if you try another girl
+or two, before you make your mind up. I shall be proud to introduce you
+to our slim and snaky sort at Coolspring. Yes. I mean what I say; and
+I'll go back with you across the pond." Referring in this disrespectful
+manner to the Atlantic Ocean, Rufus offered his hand in token of
+unalterable devotion and goodwill.
+
+Who could resist such a man as this? Amelius, always in extremes, wrung
+his hand, with an impetuous sense of shame. "I've been sulky," he said,
+"I've been rude, I ought to be ashamed of myself--and I am. There's
+only one excuse for me, Rufus. I love her with all my heart and soul;
+and I'm engaged to be married to her. And yet, if you understand my way
+of putting it, I'm--in short, I'm in a mess."
+
+With this characteristic preface, he described his position as exactly
+as he could; having due regard to the necessary reserve on the subject
+of Mrs. Farnaby. Rufus listened, with the closest attention, from
+beginning to end; making no attempt to disguise the unfavourable
+impression which the announcement of the marriage-engagement had made
+on him. When he spoke next, instead of looking at Amelius as usual, he
+held his head down, and looked gloomily at his boots.
+
+"Well," he said, "you've gone ahead this time, and that's a fact. She
+didn't raise any difficulties that a man could ride off on--did she?"
+
+"She was all that was sweet and kind!" Amelius answered, with
+enthusiasm.
+
+"She was all that was sweet and kind," Rufus absently repeated, still
+intent on the solid spectacle of his own boots. "And how about uncle
+Farnaby? Perhaps he's sweet and kind likewise, or perhaps he cuts up
+rough? Possible--is it not, sir?"
+
+"I don't know; I haven't spoken to him yet."
+
+Rufus suddenly looked up. A faint gleam of hope irradiated his long
+lank face. "Mercy be praised! there's a last chance for you," he
+remarked. "Uncle Farnaby may say No."
+
+"It doesn't matter what he says," Amelius rejoined. "She's old enough
+to choose for herself, he can't stop the marriage."
+
+Rufus lifted one wiry yellow forefinger, in a state of perpendicular
+protest. "He cannot stop the marriage," the sagacious New Englander
+admitted; "but he can stop the money, my son. Find out how you stand
+with him before another day is over your head."
+
+"I can't go to him this evening." said Amelius; "he dines out."
+
+"Where is he now?"
+
+"At his place of business."
+
+"Fix him at his place of business. Right away!" cried Rufus, springing
+with sudden energy to his feet.
+
+"I don't think he would like it," Amelius objected. "He's not a very
+pleasant fellow, anywhere; but he's particularly disagreeable at his
+place of business."
+
+Rufus walked to the window, and looked out. The objections to Mr.
+Farnaby appeared to fail, so far, in interesting him.
+
+"To put it plainly," Amelius went on, "there's something about him that
+I can't endure. And--though he's very civil to me, in his way--I don't
+think he has ever got over the discovery that I am a Christian
+Socialist."
+
+Rufus abruptly turned round from the window, and became attentive
+again. "So you told him that--did you?" he said.
+
+"Of course!" Amelius rejoined, sharply. "Do you suppose I am ashamed of
+the principles in which I have been brought up?"
+
+"You don't care, I reckon, if all the world knows your principles,
+persisted Rufus, deliberately leading him on.
+
+"Care?" Amelius reiterated. "I only wish I had all the world to listen
+to me. They should hear of my principles, with no bated breath, I
+promise you!"
+
+There was a pause. Rufus turned back again to the window. "When
+Farnaby's at home, where does he live?" he asked suddenly--still
+keeping his face towards the street.
+
+Amelius mentioned the address. "You don't mean that you are going to
+call there?" he inquired, with some anxiety.
+
+"Well, I reckoned I might catch him before dinner-time. You seem to be
+sort of feared to speak to him yourself. I'm your friend, Amelius--and
+I'll speak for you."
+
+The bare idea of the interview struck Amelius with terror. "No, no!" he
+said. "I'm much obliged to you, Rufus. But in a matter of this sort, I
+shouldn't like to transfer the responsibility to my friend. I'll speak
+to Mr. Farnaby in a day or two."
+
+Rufus was evidently not satisfied with this. "I do suppose, now," he
+suggested, "you're not the only man moving in this metropolis who
+fancies Miss Regina. Query, my son: if you put off Farnaby much
+longer--" He paused and looked at Amelius. "Ah," he said, "I reckon I
+needn't enlarge further: there _is_ another man. Well, it's the same in
+my country; I don't know what he does, with You: he always turns up,
+with Us, just at the time when you least want to see him."
+
+There _was_ another man--an older and a richer man than Amelius;
+equally assiduous in his attentions to the aunt and to the niece;
+submissively polite to his favoured young rival. He was the sort of
+person, in age and in temperament, who would be perfectly capable of
+advancing his own interests by means of the hostile influence of Mrs.
+Farnaby. Who could say what the result might be if, by some unlucky
+accident, he made the attempt before Amelius had secured for himself
+the support of the master of the house? In his present condition of
+nervous irritability, he was ready to believe in any coincidence of the
+disastrous sort. The wealthy rival was a man of business, a near city
+neighbour of Mr. Farnaby. They might be together at that moment; and
+Regina's fidelity to her lover might be put to a harder test than she
+was prepared to endure. Amelius remembered the gentle conciliatory
+smile (too gentle by half) with which his placid mistress had received
+his first kisses--and, without stopping to weigh conclusions, snatched
+up his hat. "Wait here for me, Rufus, like a good fellow. I'm off to
+the stationer's shop." With those parting words, he hurried out of the
+room.
+
+Left by himself, Rufus began to rummage the pockets of his frockcoat--a
+long, loose, and dingy garment which had become friendly and
+comfortable to him by dint of ancient use. Producing a handful of
+correspondence, he selected the largest envelope of all; shook out on
+the table several smaller letters enclosed; picked one out of the
+number; and read the concluding paragraph only, with the closest
+attention.
+
+"I enclose letters of introduction to the secretaries of literary
+institutions in London, and in some of the principal cities of England.
+If you feel disposed to lecture yourself, or if you can persuade
+friends and citizens known to you to do so, I believe it may be in your
+power to advance in this way the interests of our Bureau. Please take
+notice that the more advanced institutions, which are ready to
+countenance and welcome free thought in religion, politics, and morals,
+are marked on the envelopes with a cross in red ink. The envelopes
+without a mark are addressed to platforms on which the customary
+British prejudices remain rampant, and in which the charge for places
+reaches a higher figure than can be as yet obtained in the sanctuaries
+of free thought."
+
+Rufus laid down the letter, and, choosing one among the envelopes
+marked in red ink, looked at the introduction enclosed. "If the right
+sort of invitation reached Amelius from this institution," he thought,
+"the boy would lecture on Christian Socialism with all his heart and
+soul. I wonder what the brown miss and her uncle would say to that?"
+
+He smiled to himself, and put the letter back in the envelope, and
+considered the subject for a while. Below the odd rough surface, he was
+a man in ten thousand; no more single-hearted and more affectionate
+creature ever breathed the breath of life. He had not been understood
+in his own little circle; there had been a want of sympathy with him,
+and even a want of knowledge of him, at home. Amelius, popular with
+everybody, had touched the great heart of this man. He perceived the
+peril that lay hidden under the strange and lonely position of his
+fellow-voyager--so innocent in the ways of the world, so young and so
+easily impressed His fondness for Amelius, it is hardly too much to
+say, was the fondness of a father for a son. With a sigh, he shook his
+head, and gathered up his letters, and put them back in his pockets.
+"No, not yet," he decided. "The poor boy really loves her; and the girl
+may be good enough to make the happiness of his life." He got up and
+walked about the room. Suddenly he stopped, struck by a new idea. "Why
+shouldn't I judge for myself?" he thought. "I've got the address--I
+reckon I'll look in on the Farnabys, in a friendly way."
+
+He sat down at the desk, and wrote a line, in the event of Amelius
+being the first to return to the lodgings:
+
+
+DEAR BOY,
+
+"I don't find her photograph tells me quite so much as I want to know.
+I have a mind to see the living original. Being your friend, you know,
+it's only civil to pay my respects to the family. Expect my unbiased
+opinion when I come back.
+
+"Yours,
+
+"RUFUS."
+
+
+Having enclosed and addressed these lines, he took up his
+greatcoat--and checked himself in the act of putting it on. The brown
+miss was a British miss. A strange New Englander had better be careful
+of his personal appearance, before he ventured into her presence. Urged
+by this cautious motive, he approached the looking-glass, and surveyed
+himself critically.
+
+"I doubt I might be the better," it occurred to him, "if I brushed my
+hair, and smelt a little of perfume. Yes. I'll make a toilet. Where's
+the boy's bedroom, I wonder?"
+
+He observed a second door in the sitting-room, and opened it at hazard.
+Fortune had befriended him, so far: he found himself in his young
+friend's bedchamber.
+
+The toilet of Amelius, simple as it was, had its mysteries for Rufus.
+He was at a loss among the perfumes. They were all contained in a
+modest little dressing case, without labels of any sort to describe the
+contents of the pots and bottles. He examined them one after another,
+and stopped at some recently invented French shaving-cream. "It smells
+lovely," he said, assuming it to be some rare pomatum. "Just what I
+want, it seems, for my head." He rubbed the shaving cream into his
+bristly iron-gray hair, until his arms ached. When he had next
+sprinkled his handkerchief and himself profusely, first with rose
+water, and then (to make quite sure) with eau-de-cologne used as a
+climax, he felt that he was in a position to appeal agreeably to the
+senses of the softer sex. In five minutes more, he was on his way to
+Mr. Farnaby's private residence.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 2
+
+The rain that had begun with the morning still poured on steadily in
+the afternoon. After one look out of the window, Regina decided on
+passing the rest of the day luxuriously, in the company of a novel, by
+her own fireside. With her feet on the tender, and her head on the soft
+cushion of her favourite easy-chair, she opened the book. Having read
+the first chapter and part of the second, she was just lazily turning
+over the leaves in search of a love scene, when her languid interest in
+the novel was suddenly diverted to an incident in real life. The
+sitting-room door was gently opened, and her maid appeared in a state
+of modest confusion.
+
+"If you please, miss, here's a strange gentleman who comes from Mr.
+Goldenheart. He wishes particularly to say--"
+
+She paused, and looked behind her. A faint and curious smell of mingled
+soap and scent entered the room, followed closely by a tall, calm,
+shabbily-dressed man, who laid a wiry yellow hand on the maid's
+shoulder, and stopped her effectually before she could say a word more.
+
+"Don't you think of troubling yourself to git through with it, my dear;
+I'm here, and I'll finish for you." Addressing the maid in these
+encouraging terms, the stranger advanced to Regina, and actually
+attempted to shake hands with her! Regina rose--and looked at him. It
+was a look that ought to have daunted the boldest man living; it
+produced no sort of effect on _this_ man. He still held out his hand;
+his lean face broadened with a pleasant smile. "My name is Rufus
+Dingwell," he said. "I come from Coolspring, Mass.; and Amelius is my
+introduction to yourself and family."
+
+Regina silently acknowledged this information by a frigid bow, and
+addressed herself to the maid, waiting at the door: "Don't leave the
+room, Phoebe."
+
+Rufus, inwardly wondering what Phoebe was wanted for, proceeded to
+express the cordial sentiments proper to the occasion. "I have heard
+about you, miss; and I take pleasure in making your acquaintance."
+
+The unwritten laws of politeness obliged Regina to say something. "I
+have not heard Mr. Goldenheart mention your name," she remarked. "Are
+you an old friend of his?"
+
+Rufus explained with genial alacrity. "We crossed the Pond together,
+miss. I like the boy; he's bright and spry; he refreshes me--he does.
+We go ahead with most things in my country; and friendship's one of
+them. How _do_ you find yourself? Won't you shake hands?" He took her
+hand, without waiting to be repelled this time, and shook it with the
+heartiest good-will.
+
+Regina shuddered faintly: she summoned assistance in case of further
+familiarity. "Phoebe, tell my aunt."
+
+Rufus added a message on his own account. "And say this, my dear. I
+sincerely desire to make the acquaintance of Miss Regina's aunt, and
+any other members of the family circle."
+
+Phoebe left the room, smiling. Such an amusing visitor as this was a
+rare person in Mr. Farnaby's house. Rufus looked after her, with
+unconcealed approval. The maid appeared to be more to his taste than
+the mistress. "Well, that's a pretty creature, I do declare," he said
+to Regina. "Reminds me of our American girls--slim in the waist, and
+carries her head nicely. How old may she be, now?"
+
+Regina expressed her opinion of this familiar question by pointing,
+with silent dignity, to a chair.
+
+"Thank you, miss; not that one," said Rufus. "You see, I'm long in the
+legs, and if I once got down as low as that, I reckon I should have to
+restore the balance by putting my feet up on the grate; and that's not
+manners in Great Britain--and quite right too."
+
+He picked out the highest chair he could find, and admired the
+workmanship as he drew it up to the fireplace. "Most sumptuous and
+elegant," he said. "The style of the Re_nay_sance, as they call it."
+Regina observed with dismay that he had not got his hat in his hand
+like other visitors. He had left it no doubt in the hall; he looked as
+if he had dropped in to spend the day, and stay to dinner.
+
+"Well, miss, I've seen your photograph," he resumed; "and I don't much
+approve of it, now I see You. My sentiments are not altogether
+favourable to that art. I delivered a lecture on photographic
+portraiture at Coolspring; and I described it briefly as justice
+without mercy. The audience took the idea; they larfed, they did.
+Larfin' reminds me of Amelius. Do you object to his being a Christian
+Socialist, miss?"
+
+The young lady's look, when she answered the question, was not lost on
+Rufus. He registered it, mentally, in case of need. "Amelius will soon
+get over all that nonsense," she said, "when he has been a little
+longer in London."
+
+"Possible," Rufus admitted. "The boy is fond of you. Yes: he loves you.
+I have noticed him, and I can certify to that. I may also remark that
+he wants a deal of love in return. No doubt, miss, you have observed
+that circumstance yourself?"
+
+Regina resented this last inquiry as an outrage on propriety. "What
+next will he say?" she thought to herself. "I must put this presuming
+man in his proper place." She darted another annihilating look at him,
+as she spoke in her turn. "May I ask, Mr.--Mr.----?"
+
+"Dingwell," said Rufus, prompting her.
+
+"May I ask, Mr. Dingwell, if you have favoured me by calling here at
+the request of Mr. Goldenheart?"
+
+Genial and simple-minded as he was, eagerly as he desired to appreciate
+at her full value the young lady who was one day to be the wife of
+Amelius, Rufus felt the tone in which those words were spoken. It was
+not easy to stimulate his modest sense of what was fairly due to him
+into asserting itself, but the cold distrust, the deliberate distance
+of Regina's manner, exhausted the long-suffering indulgence of this
+singularly patient man. "The Lord, in his mercy, preserve Amelius from
+marrying You," he thought, as he rose from his chair, and advanced with
+a certain simple dignity to take leave of her.
+
+"It did not occur to me, miss, to pay my respects to you, till Amelius
+and I had parted company," he said. "Please to excuse me. I should have
+been welcome, in my country, with no better introduction than being (as
+I may say) his friend and well-wisher. If I have made a mistake--"
+
+He stopped. Regina had suddenly changed colour. Instead of looking at
+him, she was looking over his shoulder, apparently at something behind
+him. He turned to see what it was. A lady, short and stout, with
+strange wild sorrowful eyes, had noiselessly entered the room while he
+was speaking: she was waiting, as it seemed, until he had finished what
+he had to say. When they confronted each other, she moved to meet him,
+with a firm heavy step, and with her hand held out in token of welcome.
+
+"You may feel equally sure, sir, of a friendly reception here," she
+said, in her steady self-possessed way. "I am this young lady's aunt;
+and I am glad to see the friend of Amelius in my house." Before Rufus
+could answer, she turned to Regina. "I waited," she went on, "to give
+you an opportunity of explaining yourself to this gentleman. I am
+afraid he has mistaken your coldness of manner for intentional
+rudeness."
+
+The colour rushed back into Regina's face--she vibrated for a moment
+between anger and tears. But the better nature in her broke its way
+through the constitutional shyness and restraint which habitually kept
+it down. "I meant no harm, sir," she said, raising her large beautiful
+eyes submissively to Rufus; "I am not used to receiving strangers. And
+you did ask me some very strange questions," she added, with a sudden
+burst of self-assertion. "Strangers are not in the habit of saying such
+things in England." She looked at Mrs. Farnaby, listening with
+impenetrable composure, and stopped in confusion. Her aunt would not
+scruple to speak to the stranger about Amelius in her presence--there
+was no knowing what she might not have to endure. She turned again to
+Rufus. "Excuse me," she said, "if I leave you with my aunt--I have an
+engagement." With that trivial apology, she made her escape from the
+room.
+
+"She has no engagement," Mrs. Farnaby briefly remarked as the door
+closed. "Sit down, sir."
+
+For once, even Rufus was not as his ease. "I can hit it off, ma'am,
+with most people," he said. "I wonder what I've done to offend your
+niece?"
+
+"My niece (with many good qualities) is a narrow-minded young woman,"
+Mrs. Farnaby explained. "You are not like the men she is accustomed to
+see. She doesn't understand you--you are not a commonplace gentleman.
+For instance," Mrs. Farnaby continued, with the matter-of-fact gravity
+of a woman innately inaccessible to a sense of humour, "you have got
+something strange on your hair. It seems to be melting, and it smells
+like soap. No: it's no use taking out your handkerchief--your
+handkerchief won't mop it up. I'll get a towel." She opened an inner
+door, which disclosed a little passage, and a bath-room beyond it. "I'm
+the strongest person in the house," she resumed, returning with a towel
+in her hand, as gravely as ever. "Sit still, and don't make apologies.
+If any of us can rub you dry, I'm the woman." She set to work with the
+towel, as if she had been Rufus's mother, making him presentable in the
+days of his boyhood. Giddy under the violence of the rubbing, staggered
+by the contrast between the cold reception accorded to him by the
+niece, and the more than friendly welcome offered by the aunt, Rufus
+submitted to circumstances in docile and silent bewilderment. "There;
+you'll do till you get home--nobody can laugh at you now," Mrs. Farnaby
+announced. "You're an absent-minded man, I suppose? You wanted to wash
+your head, and you forgot the warm water and the towel. Was that how it
+happened, sir?"
+
+"I thank you with all my heart, ma'am; I took it for pomatum," Rufus
+answered. "Would you object to shaking hands again? This cordial
+welcome of yours reminds me, I do assure you, of home. Since I left New
+England, I've never met with the like of you. I do suppose now it was
+my hair that set Miss Regina's back up? I'm not quite easy in my mind,
+ma'am, about your niece. I'm sort of feared of what she may say of me
+to Amelius. I meant no harm, Lord knows."
+
+The secret of Mrs. Farnaby's extraordinary alacrity in the use of the
+towel began slowly to show itself now. The tone of her American guest
+had already become the friendly and familiar tone which it had been her
+object to establish. With a little management, he might be made an
+invaluable ally in the great work of hindering the marriage of Amelius.
+
+"You are very fond of your young friend?" she began quietly.
+
+"That is so, ma'am."
+
+"And he has told you that he has taken a liking to my niece?"
+
+"And shown me her likeness," Rufus added.
+
+"And shown you her likeness. And you thought you would come here, and
+see for yourself what sort of girl she was?"
+
+"Naturally," Rufus admitted.
+
+Mrs. Farnaby revealed, without further hesitation, the object that she
+had in view. "Amelius is little more than a lad, still," she said. "He
+has got all his life before him. It would be a sad thing, if he married
+a girl who didn't make him happy." She turned in her chair, and pointed
+to the door by which Regina had left them. "Between ourselves," she
+resumed, dropping her voice to a whisper, "do you believe my niece will
+make him happy?"
+
+Rufus hesitated.
+
+"I'm above family prejudices," Mrs. Farnaby proceeded. "You needn't be
+afraid of offending me. Speak out."
+
+Rufus would have spoken out to any other woman in the universe. _This_
+woman had preserved him from ridicule--_this_ woman had rubbed his head
+dry. He prevaricated.
+
+"I don't suppose I understand the ladies in this country," he said.
+
+But Mrs. Farnaby was not to be trifled with. "If Amelius was your son,
+and if he asked you to consent to his marriage with my niece," she
+rejoined, "would you say Yes?"
+
+This was too much for Rufus. "Not if he went down on both his knees to
+ask me," he answered.
+
+Mrs. Farnaby was satisfied at last, and owned it without reserve. "My
+own opinion," she said, "exactly expressed! don't be surprised. Didn't
+I tell you I had no family prejudices? Do you know if he has spoken to
+my husband, yet?"
+
+Rufus looked at his watch. "I reckon he's just about done it by this
+time."
+
+Mrs. Farnaby paused, and reflected for a moment. She had already
+attempted to prejudice her husband against Amelius, and had received an
+answer which Mr. Farnaby considered to be final. "Mr. Goldenheart
+honours us if he seeks our alliance; he is the representative of an old
+English family." Under these circumstances, it was quite possible that
+the proposals of Amelius had been accepted. Mrs. Farnaby was not the
+less determined that the marriage should never take place, and not the
+less eager to secure the assistance of her new ally. "When will Amelius
+tell you about it?" she asked.
+
+"When I go back to his lodgings, ma'am."
+
+"Go back at once--and bear this in mind as you go. If you can find out
+any likely way of parting these two young people (in their own best
+interests), depend on one thing--if I can help you, I will. I'm as fond
+of Amelius as you are. Ask him if I haven't done my best to keep him
+away from my niece. Ask him if I haven't expressed my opinion, that
+she's not the right wife for him. Come and see me again as soon as you
+like. I'm fond of Americans. Good morning."
+
+Rufus attempted to express his sense of gratitude, in his own briefly
+eloquent way. He was not allowed a hearing. With one and the same
+action, Mrs. Farnaby patted him on the shoulder, and pushed him out of
+the room.
+
+"If that woman was an American citizen," Rufus reflected, on his way
+through the streets, "she'd be the first female President of the United
+States!" His admiration of Mrs. Farnaby's energy and resolution,
+expressed in these strong terms, acknowledged but one limit. Highly as
+he approved of her, there was nevertheless an unfathomable something in
+the woman's eyes that disturbed and daunted him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 3
+
+Rufus found his friend at the lodgings, prostrate on the sofa, smoking
+furiously. Before a word had passed between them, it was plain to the
+New Englander that something had gone wrong.
+
+"Well," he asked; "and what does Farnaby say?"
+
+"Damn Farnaby!"
+
+Rufus was secretly conscious of an immense sense of relief. "I call
+that a stiff way of putting it," he quietly remarked; "but the
+meaning's clear. Farnaby has said No."
+
+Amelius jumped off the sofa, and planted himself defiantly on the
+hearthrug.
+
+"You're wrong for once," he said, with a bitter laugh. "The
+exasperating part of it is that Farnaby has said neither Yes nor No.
+The oily-whiskered brute--you haven't seen him yet, have you?--began by
+saying Yes. 'A man like me, the heir of a fine old English family,
+honoured him by making proposals; he could wish no more brilliant
+prospect for his dear adopted child. She would fill the high position
+that was offered to her, and fill it worthily.' That was the fawning
+way in which he talked to me at first! He squeezed my hand in his
+horrid cold shiny paw till, I give you my word of honour, I felt as if
+I was going to be sick. Wait a little; you haven't heard the worst of
+it yet. He soon altered his tone--it began with his asking me, if I had
+'considered the question of settlements'. I didn't know what he meant.
+He had to put it in plain English; he wanted to hear what my property
+was. 'Oh, that's soon settled,' I said. 'I've got five hundred a year;
+and Regina is welcome to every farthing of it.' He fell back in his
+chair as if I had shot him; he turned--it was worse than pale, he
+positively turned green. At first he wouldn't believe me; he declared I
+must be joking. I set him right about that immediately. His next change
+was a proud impudence. 'Have you not observed, sir, in what style
+Regina is accustomed to live in my house? Five hundred a year? Good
+heavens! With strict economy, five hundred a year might pay her
+milliner's bill and the keep of her horse and carriage. Who is to pay
+for everything else--the establishment, the dinner-parties and balls,
+the tour abroad, the children, the nurses, the doctor? I tell you this,
+Mr. Goldenheart, I'm willing to make a sacrifice to you, as a born
+gentleman, which I would certainly not consent to in the case of any
+self-made man. Enlarge your income, sir, to no more than four times
+five hundred pounds, and I guarantee a yearly allowance to Regina of
+half as much again, besides the fortune which she will inherit at my
+death. That will make your income three thousand a year to start with.
+I know something of domestic expenses, and I tell you positively, you
+can't do it on a farthing less.' That was his language, Rufus. The
+insolence of his tone I can't attempt to describe. If I hadn't thought
+of Regina, I should have behaved in a manner unworthy of a Christian--I
+believe I should have taken my walking-cane, and given him a sound
+thrashing."
+
+Rufus neither expressed surprise nor offered advice. He was lost in
+meditation on the wealth of Mr. Farnaby. "A stationer's business seems
+to eventuate in a lively profit, in this country," he said.
+
+"A stationer's business?" Amelius repeated disdainfully. "Farnaby has
+half a dozen irons in the fire besides that. He's got a newspaper, and
+a patent medicine, and a new bank, and I don't know what else. One of
+his own friends said to me, 'Nobody knows whether Farnaby is rich or
+poor; he is going to do one of two things--he is going to die worth
+millions, or to die bankrupt.' Oh, if I can only live to see the day
+when Socialism will put that sort of man in his right place!"
+
+"Try a republic, on our model, first," said Rufus. "When Farnaby talks
+of the style his young woman is accustomed to live in, what does he
+mean?"
+
+"He means," Amelius answered smartly, "a carriage to drive out in,
+champagne on the table, and a footman to answer the door."
+
+"Farnaby's ideas, sir, have crossed the water and landed in New York,"
+Rufus remarked. "Well, and what did you say to him, on your side?"
+
+"I gave it to him, I can tell you! 'That's all ostentation,' I said.
+'Why can't Regina and I begin life modestly? What do we want with a
+carriage to drive out in, and champagne on the table, and a footman to
+answer the door? We want to love each other and be happy. There are
+thousands of as good gentlemen as I am, in England, with wives and
+families, who would ask for nothing better than an income of five
+hundred a year. The fact is, Mr. Farnaby, you're positively saturated
+with the love of money. Get your New Testament and read what Christ
+says of rich people.' What do you think he did, when I put it in that
+unanswerable way? He held up his hand, and looked horrified. 'I can't
+allow profanity in my office,' says he. 'I have my New Testament read
+to me in church, sir, every Sunday.' That's the sort of Christian,
+Rufus, who is the average product of modern times! He was as obstinate
+as a mule; he wouldn't give way a single inch. His adopted daughter, he
+said, was accustomed to live in a certain style. In that same style she
+should live when she was married, so long as he had a voice in the
+matter. Of course, if she chose to set his wishes and feelings at
+defiance, in return for all that he had done for her, she was old
+enough to take her own way. In that case, he would tell me as plainly
+as he meant to tell her, that she must not look to a single farthing of
+his money to help her, and not expect to find her name down in his
+will. He felt the honour of a family alliance with me as sincerely as
+ever. But he must abide by the conditions that he had stated. On those
+terms, he would be proud to give me the hand of Regina at the altar,
+and proud to feel that he had done his duty by his adopted child. I let
+him go on till he had run himself out--and then I asked quietly, if he
+could tell me the way to increase my income to two thousand a year. How
+do you think he answered me?"
+
+"Perhaps he offered to utilise your capital in his business," Rufus
+guessed.
+
+"Not he! He considered business quite beneath me; my duty to myself, as
+a gentleman, was to adopt a profession. On reflection, it turned out
+that there was but one likely profession to try, in my case--the Law. I
+might be called to the Bar, and (with luck) I might get remunerative
+work to do, in eight or ten years' time. That, I declare to you, was
+the prospect he set before me, if I chose to take his advice. I asked
+if he was joking. Certainly not! I was only one-and-twenty years old
+(he reminded me); I had plenty of time to spare--I should still marry
+young if I married at thirty. I took up my hat, and gave him a bit of
+my mind at parting. 'If you really mean anything,' I said, 'you mean
+that Regina is to pine and fade and be a middle-aged woman, and that I
+am to resist the temptations that beset a young man in London, and lead
+the life of a monk for the next ten years--and all for what? For a
+carriage to ride out in, champagne on the table, and a footman to
+answer the door! Keep your money, Mr. Farnaby; Regina and I will do
+without it.'--What are you laughing at? I don't think you could have
+put it more strongly yourself."
+
+Rufus suddenly recovered his gravity. "I tell you this, Amelius," he
+replied; "you afford (as we say in my country) meaty fruit for
+reflection--you do."
+
+"What do you mean by that?"
+
+"Well, I reckon you remember when we were aboard the boat. You gave us
+a narrative of what happened in that Community of yours, which I can
+truly cha_rac_terise as a combination of native eloquence and
+chastening good sense. I put the question to myself, sir, what has
+become of that well-informed and discreet young Christian, now he has
+changed the sphere to England and mixed with the Farnabys? It's not to
+be denied that I see him before me in the flesh when I look across the
+table here; but it's equally true that I miss him altogether, in the
+spirit."
+
+Amelius sat down again on the sofa. "In plain words," he said, "you
+think I have behaved like a fool in this matter?"
+
+Rufus crossed his long legs, and nodded his head in silent approval.
+Instead of taking offence, Amelius considered a little.
+
+"It didn't strike me before," he said. "But, now you mention it, I can
+understand that I appear to be a simple sort of fellow in what is
+called Society here; and the reason, I suspect, is that it's not the
+society in which I have been accustomed to mix. The Farnabys are new to
+me, Rufus. When it comes to a question of my life at Tadmor, of what I
+saw and learnt and felt in the Community--then, I can think and speak
+like a reasonable being, because I am thinking and speaking of what I
+know thoroughly well. Hang it, make some allowance for the difference
+of circumstances! Besides, I'm in love, and that alters a man--and, I
+have heard some people say, not always for the better. Anyhow, I've
+done it with Farnaby, and it can't be undone. There will be no peace
+for me now, till I have spoken to Regina. I have read the note you left
+for me. Did you see her, when you called at the house?"
+
+The quiet tone in which the question was put surprised Rufus. He had
+fully expected, after Regina's reception of him, to be called to
+account for the liberty that he had taken. Amelius was too completely
+absorbed by his present anxieties to consider trivial questions of
+etiquette. Hearing that Rufus had seen Regina, he never even asked for
+his friend's opinion of her. His mind was full of the obstacles that
+might be interposed to his seeing her again.
+
+"Farnaby is sure, after what has passed between us, to keep her out of
+my way if he can," Amelius said. "And Mrs. Farnaby, to my certain
+knowledge, will help him. They don't suspect _you._ Couldn't you call
+again--you're old enough to be her father--and make some excuse to take
+her out with you for a walk?"
+
+The answer of Rufus to this was Roman in its brevity. He pointed to the
+window, and said, "Look at the rain."
+
+"Then I must try her maid once more," said Amelius, resignedly. He took
+his hat and umbrella. "Don't leave me, old fellow," he resumed as he
+opened the door. "This is the turning-point of my life. I'm sorely in
+need of a friend."
+
+"Do you think she will marry you against the will of her uncle and
+aunt?" Rufus asked.
+
+"I am certain of it," Amelius answered. With that he left the room.
+
+Rufus looked after him sadly. Sympathy and sorrow were expressed in
+every line of his rugged face. "My poor boy! how will he bear it, if
+she says No? What will become of him, if she says Yes?" He rubbed his
+hand irritably across his forehead, like a man whose own thoughts were
+repellent to him. In a moment more, he plunged into his pockets, and
+drew out again the letters introducing him to the secretaries of public
+institutions. "If there's salvation for Amelius," he said, "I reckon I
+shall find it here."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 4
+
+The medium of correspondence between Amelius and Regina's maid was an
+old woman who kept a shop for the sale of newspapers and periodicals,
+in a by-street not far from Mr. Farnaby's house. From this place his
+letters were delivered to the maid, under cover of the morning
+newspapers--and here he found the answers waiting for him later in the
+day. "If Rufus could only have taken her out for a walk, I might have
+seen Regina this afternoon," thought Amelius. "As it is, I may have to
+wait till to-morrow, or later still. And then, there's the sovereign to
+Phoebe." He sighed as he thought of the fee. Sovereigns were becoming
+scarce in our young Socialist's purse.
+
+Arriving in sight of the newsvendor's shop, Amelius noticed a man
+leaving it, who walked away towards the farther end of the street. When
+he entered the shop himself a minute afterwards, the woman took up a
+letter from the counter. "A young man has just left this for you," she
+said.
+
+Amelius recognised the maid's handwriting on the address. The man whom
+he had seen leaving the shop was Phoebe's messenger.
+
+He opened the letter. Her mistress, Phoebe explained, was too much
+flurried to be able to write. The master had astonished the whole
+household by appearing among them at least three hours before the time
+at which he was accustomed to leave his place of business. He had found
+"Mrs. Ormond" (otherwise Regina's friend and correspondent, Cecilia)
+paying a visit to his niece, and had asked to speak with her in
+private, before she took leave. The result was an invitation to Regina,
+from Mrs. Ormond, to stay for a little while at her house in the
+neighbourhood of Harrow. The ladies were to leave London together, in
+Mrs. Ormond's carriage, that afternoon. Under stress of strong
+persuasion, on the part of her uncle and aunt as well as her friend,
+Regina had ended in giving way. But she had not forgotten the interests
+of Amelius. She was willing to see him privately on the next day,
+provided he left London by the train which reached Harrow soon after
+eleven in the forenoon. If it happened to rain, then he must put off
+his journey until the first fine day, arriving in any case at the same
+hour. The place at which he was to wait was described to him; and with
+these instructions the letter ended.
+
+The rapidity with which Mr. Farnaby had carried out his resolution to
+separate the lovers placed the weakness of Regina's character before
+Amelius in a new and startling light. Why had she not stood on her
+privileges, as a woman who had arrived at years of discretion, and
+refused to leave London until she had first heard what her lover had to
+say? Amelius had left his American friend, feeling sure that Regina's
+decision would be in his favour, when she was called upon to choose
+between the man who was ready to marry her, and the man who was nothing
+but her uncle by courtesy. For the first time, he now felt that his own
+confident anticipations might, by bare possibility, deceive him. He
+returned to his lodgings, in such a state of depression, that
+compassionate Rufus insisted on taking him out to dinner, and hurried
+him off afterwards to the play. Thoroughly prostrated, Amelius
+submitted to the genial influence of his friend. He had not even energy
+enough to feel surprised when Rufus stopped, on their way to the
+tavern, at a dingy building adorned with a Grecian portico, and left a
+letter and a card in charge of a servant at the side-door.
+
+The next day, by a happy interposition of Fortune, proved to be a day
+without rain. Amelius followed his instructions to the letter. A little
+watery sunshine showed itself as he left the station at Harrow. His
+mind was still in such a state of doubt and disturbance that it drew
+from superstition a faint encouragement to hope. He hailed the feeble
+November sunlight as a good omen.
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Ormond's place of residence stood alone, surrounded by its
+own grounds. A wooden fence separated the property, on one side, from a
+muddy little by-road, leading to a neighbouring farm. At a wicket-gate
+in this fence, giving admission to a shrubbery situated at some distance
+from the house, Amelius now waited for the appearance of the maid.
+
+After a delay of a few minutes only, the faithful Phoebe approached the
+gate with a key in her hand. "Where is she?" Amelius asked, as the girl
+opened the gate for him.
+
+"Waiting for you in the shrubbery. Stop, sir; I have something to say
+to you first."
+
+Amelius took out his purse, and produced the fee. Even he had observed
+that Phoebe was perhaps a little too eager to get her money!
+
+"Thank you, sir. Please to look at your watch. You mustn't be with Miss
+Regina a moment longer than a quarter of an hour."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"This is the time, sir, when Mrs. Ormond is engaged every day with her
+cook and housekeeper. In a quarter of an hour the orders will be
+given--and Mrs. Ormond will join Miss Regina for a walk in the grounds.
+You will be the ruin of me, sir, if she finds you here." With that
+warning, the maid led the way along the winding paths of the shrubbery.
+
+"I must thank you for your letter, Phoebe," said Amelius, as he
+followed her. "By-the-by, who was your messenger?"
+
+Phoebe's answer was no answer at all. "Only a young man, sir," she
+said.
+
+"In plain words, your sweetheart, I suppose?"
+
+Phoebe's expressive silence was her only reply. She turned a corner,
+and pointed to her mistress standing alone before the entrance of a
+damp and deserted summer-house.
+
+Regina put her handkerchief to her eyes, when the maid had discreetly
+retired. "Oh," she said softly, "I am afraid this is very wrong."
+
+Amelius removed the handkerchief by the exercise of a little gentle
+force, and administered comfort under the form of a kiss. Having opened
+the proceedings in this way, he put his first question, "Why did you
+leave London?"
+
+"How could I help it!" said Regina, feebly. "They were all against me.
+What else could I do?"
+
+It occurred to Amelius that she might, at her age, have asserted a will
+of her own. He kept his idea, however, to himself, and, giving her his
+arm, led her slowly along the path of the shrubbery. "You have heard, I
+suppose, what Mr. Farnaby expects of me?" he said.
+
+"Yes, dear."
+
+_"I_ call it worse than mercenary--I call it downright brutal."
+
+"Oh, Amelius, don't talk so!"
+
+Amelius came suddenly to a standstill. "Does that mean you agree with
+him?" he asked.
+
+"Don't be angry with me, dear. I only meant there was some excuse for
+him."
+
+"What excuse?"
+
+"Well, you see, he has a high idea of your family, and he thought you
+were rich people. And--I know you didn't mean it, Amelius--but, still,
+you did disappoint him."
+
+Amelius dropped her arm. This mildly-persistent defence of Mr. Farnaby
+exasperated him.
+
+"Perhaps I have disappointed _you?"_ he said.
+
+ "Oh, no, no! Oh, how cruel you are!" The ready tears showed themselves
+again in her magnificent eyes--gentle considerate tears that raised no
+storm in her bosom, and produced no unbecoming results in her face.
+"Don't be hard on me!" she said, appealing to him helplessly, like a
+charming overgrown child.
+
+Some men might have still resisted her; but Amelius was not one of
+them. He took her hand, and pressed it tenderly.
+
+"Regina," he said, "do you love me?"
+
+"You know I do!"
+
+He put his arm round her waist, he concentrated the passion that was in
+him into a look, and poured the look into her eyes. "Do you love me as
+dearly as I love you?" he whispered.
+
+She felt it with all the little passion that was in her. After a moment
+of hesitation, she put one arm timidly round his neck, and, bending her
+grand head, laid it on his bosom. Her finely-rounded, supple, muscular
+figure trembled, as if she had been the most fragile woman living.
+"Dear Amelius!" she murmured inaudibly. He tried to speak to her--his
+voice failed him. She had, in perfect innocence, fired his young blood.
+He drew her closer and closer to him: he lifted her head, with a
+masterful resolution which she was not able to resist, and pressed his
+kisses in hot and breathless succession on her lips. His vehemence
+frightened her. She tore herself out of his arms with a sudden exertion
+of strength that took him completely by surprise. "I didn't think you
+would have been rude to me!" With that mild reproach, she turned away,
+and took the path which led from the shrubbery to the house. Amelius
+followed her, entreating that she would accept his excuses and grant
+him a few minutes more. He modestly laid all the blame on her
+beauty--lamented that he had not resolution enough to resist the charm
+of it. When did that commonplace compliment ever fail to produce its
+effect? Regina smiled with the weakly complacent good-nature, which was
+only saved from being contemptible by its association with her personal
+attractions. "Will you promise to behave?" she stipulated. And Amelius,
+not very eagerly, promised.
+
+"Shall we go into the summer-house?" he suggested.
+
+"It's very damp at this time of year," Regina answered, with placid
+good sense. "Perhaps we might catch cold--we had better walk about."
+
+They walked accordingly. "I wanted to speak to you about our marriage,"
+Amelius resumed.
+
+She sighed softly. "We have some time to wait," she said, "before we
+can think of that."
+
+He passed this reply over without notice. "You know," he went on, "that
+I have an income of five hundred a year?"
+
+"Yes, dear."
+
+"There are hundreds of thousands of respectable artisans, Regina, (with
+large families), who live comfortably on less than half my income."
+
+"Do they, dear?"
+
+"And many gentlemen are not better off. Curates, for instance. Do you
+see what I am coming to, my darling?"
+
+"No, dear."
+
+"Could you live with me in a cottage in the country, with a nice
+garden, and one little maid to wait on us, and two or three new dresses
+in a year?"
+
+Regina lifted her fine eyes in sober ecstasy to the sky. "It sounds
+very tempting," she remarked, in the sweetest tones of her voice.
+
+"And it could all be done," Amelius proceeded, "on five hundred a
+year."
+
+"Could it, dear?"
+
+"I have calculated it--allowing the necessary margin--and I am sure of
+what I say. And I have done something else; I have asked about the
+Marriage License. I can easily find lodgings in the neighbourhood. We
+might be married at Harrow in a fortnight."
+
+Regina started: her eyes opened widely, and rested on Amelius with an
+expression of incredulous wonder. "Married in a fortnight?" she
+repeated. "What would my uncle and aunt say?"
+
+"My angel, our happiness doesn't depend on your uncle and aunt--our
+happiness depends on ourselves. Nobody has any power to control us. I
+am a man, and you are a woman; and we have a right to be married
+whenever we like." Amelius pronounced this last oracular sentence with
+his head held high, and a pleasant inner persuasion of the convincing
+manner in which he had stated his case.
+
+"Without my uncle to give me away!" Regina exclaimed. "Without my aunt!
+With no bridesmaids, and no friends, and no wedding-breakfast! Oh,
+Amelius, what _can_ you be thinking of?" She drew back a step, and
+looked at him in helpless consternation.
+
+For the moment, and the moment only, Amelius lost all patience with
+her. "If you really loved me," he said bitterly, "you wouldn't think of
+the bridesmaids and the breakfast!" Regina had her answer ready in her
+pocket--she took out her handkerchief. Before she could lift it to her
+eyes, Amelius recovered himself. "No, no," he said, "I didn't mean
+that--I am sure you love me--take my arm again. Do you know, Regina, I
+doubt whether your uncle has told you everything that passed between
+us. Are you really aware of the hard terms that he insists on? He
+expects me to increase my five hundred a year to two thousand, before
+he will sanction our marriage."
+
+"Yes, dear, he told me that."
+
+"I have as much chance of earning fifteen hundred a year, Regina, as I
+have of being made King of England. Did he tell you _that?"_
+
+"He doesn't agree with you, dear--he thinks you might earn it (with
+your abilities) in ten years."
+
+This time it was the turn of Amelius to look at Regina in helpless
+consternation. "Ten years?" he repeated. "Do you coolly contemplate
+waiting ten years before we are married? Good heavens! is it possible
+that you are thinking of the money? that _you_ can't live without
+carriages and footmen, and ostentation and grandeur--?"
+
+He stopped. For once, even Regina showed that she had spirit enough to
+be angry. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself to speak to me in that
+way!" she broke out indignantly. "If you have no better opinion of me
+than that, I won't marry you at all--no, not if you had fifty thousand
+a year, sir, to-morrow! Am I to have no sense of duty to my uncle--to
+the good man who has been a second father to me? Do you think I am
+ungrateful enough to set his wishes at defiance? Oh yes, I know you
+don't like him! I know that a great many people don't like him. That
+doesn't make any difference to Me! But for dear uncle Farnaby, I might
+have gone to the workhouse, I might have been a starving needlewoman, a
+poor persecuted maid-of-all-work. Am I to forget that, because you have
+no patience, and only think of yourself? Oh, I wish I had never met
+with you! I wish I had never been fool enough to be as fond of you as I
+am!" With that confession, she turned her back on him, and took refuge
+in her handkerchief once more.
+
+Amelius stood looking at her in silent despair. After the tone in which
+she had spoken of her obligations to her uncle, it was useless to
+anticipate any satisfactory result from the exertion of his influence
+over Regina. Recalling what he had seen and heard, in Mrs. Farnaby's
+room, Amelius could not doubt that the motive of pacifying his wife was
+the motive which had first led Farnaby to receive Regina into his
+house. Was it unreasonable or unjust to infer, that the orphan child
+must have been mainly indebted to Mrs. Farnaby's sense of duty to the
+memory of her sister for the parental protection afforded to her, from
+that time forth? It would have been useless, and worse than useless, to
+place before Regina such considerations as these. Her exaggerated idea
+of the gratitude that she owed to her uncle was beyond the limited
+reach of reason. Nothing was to be gained by opposition; and no
+sensible course was left but to say some peace-making words and submit.
+
+"I beg your pardon, Regina, if I have offended you. You have sadly
+disappointed me. I haven't deliberately misjudged you; I can say no
+more."
+
+She turned round quickly, and looked at him. There was an ominous
+change to resignation in his voice, there was a dogged submission in
+his manner, that alarmed her. She had never yet seen him under the
+perilously-patient aspect in which he now presented himself, after his
+apology had been made.
+
+"I forgive you, Amelius, with all my heart," she said--and timidly held
+out her hand.
+
+He took it, raised it silently to his lips, and dropped it again.
+
+She suddenly turned pale. All the love that she had in her to give to a
+man, she had given to Amelius. Her heart sank; she asked herself, in
+blank terror, if she had lost him.
+
+"I am afraid it is _I_ who have offended _you,"_ she said. "Don't be
+angry with me, Amelius! don't make me more unhappy than I am!"
+
+"I am not in the least angry," he answered, still in the quiet subdued
+way that terrified her. "You can't expect me, Regina, to contemplate a
+ten years' engagement cheerfully."
+
+She took his hand, and held it in both her own hands--held it, as if
+his love for her was there and she was determined not to let it go.
+
+"If you will only leave it to me," she pleaded, "the engagement shan't
+be so long as that. Try my uncle with a little kindness and respect,
+Amelius, instead of saying hard words to him. Or let _me_ try him, if
+you are too proud to give way. May I say that you had no intention of
+offending him, and that you are willing to leave the future to me?"
+
+"Certainly," said Amelius, "if you think it will be of the slightest
+use." His tone added plainly, "I don't believe in your uncle, mind, as
+you do."
+
+She still persisted. "It will be of the greatest use," she went on. "He
+will let me go home again, and he will not object to your coming to see
+me. He doesn't like to be despised and set at defiance--who does? Be
+patient, Amelius; and I will persuade him to expect less money from
+you--only what you may earn, dear, with your talents, long before ten
+years have passed." She waited for a word of reply which might show
+that she had encouraged him a little. He only smiled. "You talk of
+loving me," she said, drawing back from him with a look of reproach;
+"and you don't even believe what I say to you." She stopped, and looked
+behind her with a faint cry of alarm. Hurried footsteps were audible on
+the other side of the evergreens that screened them. Amelius stepped
+back to a turn in the path, and discovered Phoebe.
+
+"Don't stay a moment longer, sir!" cried the girl. "I've been to the
+house--and Mrs. Ormond isn't there--and nobody knows where she is. Get
+out by the gate, sir, while you have the chance."
+
+Amelius returned to Regina. "I mustn't get the girl into a scrape," he
+said. "You know where to write to me. Good-bye."
+
+Regina made a sign to the maid to retire. Amelius had never taken leave
+of her as he was taking leave of her now. She forgot the fervent
+embrace and the daring kisses--she was desperate at the bare idea of
+losing him. "Oh, Amelius, don't doubt that I love you! Say you believe
+I love you! Kiss me before you go!"
+
+He kissed her--but, ah, not as he had kissed her before. He said the
+words she wanted him to say--but only to please her, not with all his
+heart. She let him go; reproaches would be wasted at that moment.
+
+Phoebe found her pale and immovable, rooted to the spot on which they
+had parted. "Dear, dear me, miss, what's gone wrong?"
+
+And her mistress answered wildly, in words that had never before passed
+her placid lips, "O Phoebe, I wish I was dead!"
+
+
+Such was the impression left on the mind of Regina by the interview in
+the shrubbery.
+
+The impression left on the mind of Amelius was stated in equally strong
+language, later in the day. His American friend asked innocently for
+news, and was answered in these terms:
+
+"Find something to occupy my mind, Rufus, or I shall throw the whole
+thing over and go to the devil."
+
+The wise man from New England was too wise to trouble Amelius with
+questions, under these circumstances. "Is that so?" was all he said.
+Then he put his hand in his pocket, and, producing a letter, laid it
+quietly on the table.
+
+"For me?" Amelius asked.
+
+"You wanted something to occupy your mind," the wily Rufus answered.
+"There 'tis."
+
+Amelius read the letter. It was dated, "Hampden Institution." The
+secretary invited Amelius, in highly complimentary terms, to lecture,
+in the hall of the Institution, on Christian Socialism as taught and
+practised in the Community at Tadmor. He was offered two-thirds of the
+profits derived from the sale of places, and was left free to appoint
+his own evening (at a week's notice) and to issue his own
+advertisements. Minor details were reserved to be discussed with the
+secretary, when the lecturer had consented to the arrangement proposed
+to him.
+
+Having finished the letter, Amelius looked at his friend. "This is your
+doing," he said.
+
+Rufus admitted it, with his customary candour. He had a letter of
+introduction to the secretary, and he had called by appointment that
+morning. The Institution wanted something new to attract the members
+and the public. Having no present intention of lecturing himself, he
+had thought of Amelius, and had spoken his thought. "I mentioned,"
+Rufus added slyly, "that I didn't reckon you would mount the platform.
+But he's a sanguine creature, that secretary--and he said he'd try."
+
+"Why should I say No?" Amelius asked, a little irritably. "The
+secretary pays me a compliment, and offers me an opportunity of
+spreading our principles. Perhaps," he added, more quietly, after a
+moment's reflection, "you thought I might not be equal to the
+occasion--and, in that case, I don't say you were wrong."
+
+Rufus shook his head. "If you had passed your life in this decrepit
+little island," he replied, "I might have doubted you, likely enough.
+But Tadmor's situated in the United States. If they don't practise the
+boys in the art of orating, don't you tell me there's an American
+citizen with a voice in _that_ society. Guess again, my son. You won't?
+Well, then, 'twas uncle Farnaby I had in my mind. I said to myself--not
+to the secretary--Amelius is bound to consider uncle Farnaby. Oh, my!
+what would uncle Farnaby say?"
+
+The hot temper of Amelius took fire instantly. "What the devil do I
+care for Farnaby's opinions?" he burst out. "If there's a man in
+England who wants the principles of Christian Socialism beaten into his
+thick head, it's Farnaby. Are you going to see the secretary again?"
+
+"I might look in," Rufus answered, "in the course of the evening."
+
+"Tell him I'll give the lecture--with my compliments and thanks. If I
+can only succeed," pursued Amelius, hearing himself with the new idea,
+"I may make a name as a lecturer, and a name means money, and money
+means beating Farnaby with his own weapons. It's an opening for me,
+Rufus, at the crisis of my life."
+
+"That is so," Rufus admitted. "I may as well look up the secretary."
+
+"Why shouldn't I go with you?" Amelius suggested.
+
+"Why not?" Rufus agreed.
+
+They left the house together.
+
+
+
+BOOK THE FIFTH
+
+THE FATAL LECTURE
+
+CHAPTER 1
+
+Late that night Amelius sat alone in his room, making notes for the
+lecture which he had now formally engaged himself to deliver in a
+week's time.
+
+Thanks to his American education (as Rufus had supposed), he had not
+been without practice in the art of public speaking. He had learnt to
+face his fellow-creatures in the act of oratory, and to hear the sound
+of his own voice in a silent assembly, without trembling from head to
+foot. English newspapers were regularly sent to Tadmor, and English
+politics were frequently discussed in the little parliament of the
+Community. The prospect of addressing a new audience, with their
+sympathies probably against him at the outset, had its terrors
+undoubtedly. But the more formidable consideration, to the mind of
+Amelius, was presented by the limits imposed on him in the matter of
+time. The lecture was to be succeeded (at the request of a clerical
+member of the Institution) by a public discussion; and the secretary's
+experience suggested that the lecturer would do well to reduce his
+address within the compass of an hour. "Socialism is a large subject to
+be squeezed into that small space," Amelius had objected. And the
+secretary sighed, and answered, "They won't listen any longer."
+
+Making notes, from time to time, of the points on which it was most
+desirable to insist, and on the relative positions which they should
+occupy in his lecture, the memory of Amelius became more and more
+absorbed in recalling the scenes in which his early life had been
+passed.
+
+He laid down his pen, as the clock of the nearest church struck the
+first dark hour of the morning, and let his thoughts take him back
+again, without interruption or restraint, to the hills and vales of
+Tadmor. Once more the kind old Elder Brother taught him the noble
+lessons of Christianity as they came from the inspired Teacher's own
+lips; once more he took his turn of healthy work in the garden and the
+field; once more the voices of his companions joined with him in the
+evening songs, and the timid little figure of Mellicent stood at his
+side, content to hold the music-book and listen. How poor, how corrupt,
+did the life look that he was leading now, by comparison with the life
+that he had led in those earlier and happier days! How shamefully he
+had forgotten the simple precepts of Christian humility, Christian
+sympathy, and Christian self-restraint, in which his teachers had
+trusted as the safeguards that were to preserve him from the foul
+contact of the world! Within the last two days only, he had refused to
+make merciful allowance for the errors of a man, whose life had been
+wasted in the sordid struggle upward from poverty to wealth. And, worse
+yet, he had cruelly distressed the poor girl who loved him, at the
+prompting of those selfish passions which it was his first and foremost
+duty to restrain. The bare remembrance of it was unendurable to him, in
+his present frame of mind. With his customary impetuosity, he snatched
+up the pen, to make atonement before he went to rest that night. He
+wrote in few words to Mr. Farnaby, declaring that he regretted having
+spoken impatiently and contemptuously at the interview between them,
+and expressing the hope that their experience of each other, in the
+time to come, might perhaps lead to acceptable concessions on either
+side. His letter to Regina was written, it is needless to say, in
+warmer terms and at much greater length: it was the honest outpouring
+of his love and his penitence. When the letters were safe in their
+envelopes he was not satisfied, even yet. No matter what the hour might
+be, there was no ease of mind for Amelius, until he had actually posted
+his letters. He stole downstairs, and softly unbolted the door, and
+hurried away to the nearest letter-box. When he had let himself in
+again with his latch-key, his mind was relieved at last. "Now," he
+thought, as he lit his bed-room candle, "I can go to sleep!"
+
+A visit from Rufus was the first event of the day.
+
+The two set to work together to draw out the necessary advertisement of
+the lecture. It was well calculated to attract attention in certain
+quarters. The announcement addressed itself, in capital letters, to all
+honest people who were poor and discontented. "Come, and hear the
+remedy which Christian Socialism provides for your troubles, explained
+to you by a friend and a brother; and pay no more than sixpence for the
+place that you occupy." The necessary information as to time and place
+followed this appeal; including the offer of reserved seats at higher
+prices. By advice of the secretary, the advertisement was not sent to
+any journal having its circulation among the wealthier classes of
+society. It appeared prominently in one daily paper and in two weekly
+papers; the three possessing an aggregate sale of four hundred thousand
+copies. "Assume only five readers to each copy," cried sanguine
+Amelius, "and we appeal to an audience of two millions. What a
+magnificent publicity!"
+
+There was one inevitable result of magnificent publicity which Amelius
+failed to consider. His advertisements were certain to bring people
+together, who might otherwise never have met in the great world of
+London, under one roof. All over England, Scotland, and Ireland, he
+invited unknown guests to pass the evening with him. In such
+circumstances, recognitions may take place between persons who have
+lost sight of each other for years; conversations may be held, which
+might otherwise never have been exchanged; and results may follow, for
+which the hero of the evening may be innocently responsible, because
+two or three among his audience happen to be sitting to hear him on the
+same bench. A man who opens his doors, and invites the public
+indiscriminately to come in, runs the risk of playing with inflammable
+materials, and can never be sure at what time or in what direction they
+may explode.
+
+Rufus himself took the fair copies of the advertisement to the nearest
+agent. Amelius stayed at home to think over his lecture.
+
+He was interrupted by the arrival of Mr. Farnaby's answer to his
+letter. The man of the oily whiskers wrote courteously and guardedly.
+He was evidently flattered and pleased by the advance that had been
+made to him; and he was quite willing "under the circumstances" to give
+the lovers opportunities of meeting at his house. At the same time, he
+limited the number of the opportunities. "Once a week, for the present,
+my dear sir. Regina will doubtless write to you, when she returns to
+London."
+
+Regina wrote, by return of post. The next morning Amelius received a
+letter from her which enchanted him. She had never loved him as she
+loved him now; she longed to see him again; she had prevailed on Mrs.
+Ormond to let her shorten her visit, and to intercede for her with the
+authorities at home. They were to return together to London on the
+afternoon of the next day. Amelius would be sure to find her, if he
+arranged to call in time for five-o'clock tea.
+
+Towards four o'clock on the next day, while Amelius was putting the
+finishing touches to his dress, he was informed that "a young person
+wished to see him." The visitor proved to be Phoebe, with her
+handkerchief to her eyes; indulging in grief, in humble imitation of
+her young mistress's gentle method of proceeding on similar occasions.
+
+"Good God!" cried Amelius, "has anything happened to Regina?"
+
+"No, sir," Phoebe murmured behind the handkerchief. "Miss Regina is at
+home, and well."
+
+"Then what are you crying about?"
+
+Phoebe forgot her mistress's gentle method. She answered, with an
+explosion of sobs, "I'm ruined, sir!"
+
+"What do you mean by being ruined? Who's done it?"
+
+"You've done it, sir!"
+
+Amelius started. His relations with Phoebe had been purely and entirely
+of the pecuniary sort. She was a showy, pretty girl, with a smart
+little figure--but with some undeniably bad lines, which only observant
+physiognomists remarked, about her eyebrows and her mouth. Amelius was
+not a physiognomist; but he was in love with Regina, which at his age
+implied faithful love. It is only men over forty who can court the
+mistress, with reserves of admiration to spare for the maid.
+
+"Sit down," said Amelius; "and tell me in two words what you mean."
+
+Phoebe sat down, and dried her eyes. "I have been infamously treated,
+sir, by Mrs. Farnaby," she began--and stopped, overpowered by the bare
+remembrance of her wrongs. She was angry enough, at that moment, to be
+off her guard. The vindictive nature that was in the girl found its way
+outward, and showed itself in her face. Amelius perceived the change,
+and began to doubt whether Phoebe was quite worthy of the place which
+she had hitherto held in his estimation.
+
+"Surely there must be some mistake," he said. "What opportunity has
+Mrs. Farnaby had of ill-treating you? You have only just got back to
+London."
+
+"I beg your pardon, sir, we got back sooner than we expected. Mrs.
+Ormond had business in town: and she left Miss Regina at her own door,
+nearly two hours since."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Well, sir, I had hardly taken off my bonnet and shawl, when I was sent
+for by Mrs. Farnaby. 'Have you unpacked your box yet?' says she. I told
+her I hadn't had time to do so. 'You needn't trouble yourself to
+unpack,' says she. 'You are no longer in Miss Regina's service. There
+are your wages--with a month's wages besides, in place of the customary
+warning.' I'm only a poor girl, sir, but I up and spoke to her as plain
+as she spoke to me. 'I want to know,' I says, 'why I am sent away in
+this uncivil manner?' I couldn't possibly repeat what she said. My
+blood boils when I think of it," Phoebe declared, with melodramatic
+vehemence. "Somebody has found us out, sir. Somebody has told Mrs.
+Farnaby of your private meeting with Miss Regina in the shrubbery, and
+the money you kindly gave me. I believe Mrs. Ormond is at the bottom of
+it; you remember nobody knew where she was, when I thought she was in
+the house speaking to the cook. That's guess-work, I allow, so far.
+What is certain is, that I have been spoken to as if I was the lowest
+creature that walks the streets. Mrs. Farnaby refuses to give me a
+character, sir. She actually said she would call in the police, if I
+didn't leave the house in half an hour. How am I to get another place,
+without a character? I'm a ruined girl, that's what I am--and all
+through You!"
+
+Threatened at this point with an illustrative outburst of sobbing
+Amelius was simple enough to try the consoling influence of a
+sovereign. "Why don't you speak to Miss Regina?" he asked. "You know
+she will help you."
+
+"She has done all she can, sir. I have nothing to say against Miss
+Regina--she's a good creature. She came into the room, and begged, and
+prayed, and took all the blame on herself. Mrs. Farnaby wouldn't hear a
+word. 'I'm mistress here,' she says; 'you had better go back to your
+room.' Ah, Mr. Amelius, I can tell you Mrs. Farnaby is your enemy as
+well as mine! you'll never marry her niece if _she_ can stop it. Mark
+my words, sir, that's the secret of the vile manner in which she has
+used me. My conscience is clear, thank God. I've tried to serve the
+cause of true love--and I'm not ashamed of it. Never mind! my turn is
+to come. I'm only a poor servant, sent adrift in the world without a
+character. Wait a little! you see if I am not even (and better than
+even) with Mrs. Farnaby, before long! _I know what I know._ I am not
+going to say any more than that. She shall rue the day," cried Phoebe,
+relapsing into melodrama again, "when she turned me out of the house
+like a thief!"
+
+"Come! come!" said Amelius, sharply, "you mustn't speak in that way."
+
+Phoebe had got her money: she could afford to be independent. She rose
+from her chair. The insolence which is the almost invariable
+accompaniment of a sense of injury among Englishwomen of her class
+expressed itself in her answer to Amelius. "I speak as I think, sir. I
+have some spirit in me; I am not a woman to be trodden underfoot--and
+so Mrs. Farnaby shall find, before she is many days older."
+
+"Phoebe! Phoebe! you are talking like a heathen. If Mrs. Farnaby has
+behaved to you with unjust severity, set her an example of moderation
+on your side. It's your duty as a Christian to forgive injuries."
+
+Phoebe burst out laughing. "Hee-hee-hee! Thank you, sir, for a sermon
+as well as a sovereign. You have been most kind, indeed!" She changed
+suddenly from irony to anger. "I never was called a heathen before!
+Considering what I have done for you, I think you might at least have
+been civil. Good afternoon, sir." She lifted her saucy little
+snub-nose, and walked with dignity out of the room.
+
+For the moment, Amelius was amused. As he heard the house-door closed,
+he turned laughing to the window, for a last look at Phoebe in the
+character of an injured Christian. In an instant the smile left his
+lips--he drew back from the window with a start.
+
+A man had been waiting for Phoebe, in the street. At the moment when
+Amelius looked out, she had just taken his arm. He glanced back at the
+house, as they walked away together. Amelius immediately recognised, in
+Phoebe's companion (and sweetheart), a vagabond Irishman, nicknamed
+Jervy, whose face he had last seen at Tadmor. Employed as one of the
+agents of the Community in transacting their business with the
+neighbouring town, he had been dismissed for misconduct, and had been
+unwisely taken back again, at the intercession of a respectable person
+who believed in his promises of amendment. Amelius had suspected this
+man of being the spy who officiously informed against Mellicent and
+himself, but having discovered no evidence to justify his suspicions,
+he had remained silent on the subject. It was now quite plain to him
+that Jervy's appearance in London could only be attributed to a second
+dismissal from the service of the Community, for some offence
+sufficiently serious to oblige him to take refuge in England. A more
+disreputable person it was hardly possible for Phoebe to have become
+acquainted with. In her present vindictive mood, he would be
+emphatically a dangerous companion and counsellor. Amelius felt this so
+strongly, that he determined to follow them, on the chance of finding
+out where Jervy lived. Unhappily, he had only arrived at this
+resolution after a lapse of a minute or two. He ran into the street but
+it was too late; not a trace of them was to be discovered. Pursuing his
+way to Mr. Farnaby's house, he decided on mentioning what had happened
+to Regina. Her aunt had not acted wisely in refusing to let the maid
+refer to her for a character. She would do well to set herself right
+with Phoebe, in this particular, before it was too late.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 2
+
+Mrs. Farnaby stood at the door of her own room, and looked at her niece
+with an air of contemptuous curiosity.
+
+"Well? You and your lover have had a fine time of it together, I
+suppose? What do you want here?"
+
+"Amelius wishes particularly to speak to you, aunt."
+
+"Tell him to save himself the trouble. He may reconcile your uncle to
+his marriage--he won't reconcile Me."
+
+"It's not about that, aunt; it's about Phoebe."
+
+"Does he want me to take Phoebe back again?"
+
+At that moment Amelius appeared in the hall, and answered the question
+himself. "I want to give you a word of warning," he said.
+
+Mrs. Farnaby smiled grimly. "That excites my curiosity," she replied.
+"Come in. I don't want _you,"_ she added, dismissing her niece at the
+door. "So you're willing to wait ten years for Regina?" she continued,
+when Amelius was alone with her. "I'm disappointed in you; you're a
+poor weak creature, after all. What about that young hussy, Phoebe?"
+
+Amelius told her unreservedly all that had passed between the discarded
+maid and himself, not forgetting, before he concluded, to caution her
+on the subject of the maid's companion. "I don't know what that man may
+not do to mislead Phoebe," he said. "If I were you, I wouldn't drive
+her into a corner."
+
+Mrs. Farnaby eyed him scornfully from head to foot. "You used to have
+the spirit of a man in you," she answered. "Keeping company with Regina
+has made you a milksop already. If you want to know what I think of
+Phoebe and her sweetheart--" she stopped, and snapped her fingers.
+"There!" she said, "that's what I think! Now go back to Regina. I can
+tell you one thing--she will never be your wife."
+
+Amelius looked at her in quiet surprise. "It seems odd," he remarked,
+"that you should treat me as you do, after what you said to me, the
+last time I was in this room. You expect me to help you in the dearest
+wish of your life--and you do everything you can to thwart the dearest
+wish of _my_ life. A man can't keep his temper under continual
+provocation. Suppose I refuse to help you?"
+
+Mrs. Farnaby looked at him with the most exasperating composure. "I
+defy you to do it," she answered.
+
+"You defy me to do it!" Amelius exclaimed.
+
+"Do you take me for a fool?" Mrs. Farnaby went on. "Do you think I
+don't know you better than you know yourself?" She stepped up close to
+him; her voice sank suddenly to low and tender tones. "If that last
+unlikely chance should turn out in my favour," she went on; "if you
+really did meet with my poor girl, one of these days, and knew that you
+had met with her--do you mean to say you could be cruel enough, no
+matter how badly I behaved to you, to tell me nothing about it? Is
+_that_ the heart I can feel beating under my hand? Is _that_ the
+Christianity you learnt at Tadmor? Pooh, pooh, you foolish boy! Go back
+to Regina; and tell her you have tried to frighten me, and you find it
+won't do."
+
+The next day was Saturday. The advertisement of the lecture appeared in
+the newspapers. Rufus confessed that he had been extravagant enough, in
+the case of the two weekly journals, to occupy half a page. "The
+public," he explained, "have got a nasty way of overlooking
+advertisements of a modest and retiring character. Hit 'em in the eyes
+when they open the paper, or you don't hit 'em at all."
+
+Among the members of the public attracted by the new announcement, Mrs.
+Farnaby was one. She honoured Amelius with a visit at his lodgings. "I
+called you a poor weak creature yesterday" (these were her first words
+on entering the room); "I talked like a fool. You're a splendid fellow;
+I respect your courage, and I shall attend your lecture. Never mind
+what Mr. Farnaby and Regina say. Regina's poor little conventional soul
+is shaken, I dare say; you needn't expect to have my niece among your
+audience. But Farnaby is a humbug, as usual. He affects to be
+horrified; he talks big about breaking off the match. In his own self,
+he's bursting with curiosity to know how you will get through with it.
+I tell you this--he will sneak into the hall and stand at the back
+where nobody can see him. I shall go with him; and, when you're on the
+platform, I'll hold up my handkerchief like this. Then you'll know he's
+there. Hit him hard, Amelius--hit him hard! Where is your friend Rufus?
+just gone away? I like that American. Give him my love, and tell him to
+come and see me." She left the room as abruptly as she had entered it.
+Amelius looked after her in amazement. Mrs. Farnaby was not like
+herself; Mrs. Farnaby was in good spirits!
+
+Regina's opinion of the lecture arrived by post.
+
+Every other word in her letter was underlined; half the sentences began
+with "Oh!"; Regina was shocked, astonished, ashamed, alarmed. What
+would Amelius do next? Why had he deceived her, and left her to find it
+out in the papers? He had undone all the good effect of those charming
+letters to her father and herself. He had no idea of the disgust and
+abhorrence which respectable people would feel at his odious Socialism.
+Was she never to know another happy moment? and was Amelius to be the
+cause of it? and so on, and so on.
+
+Mr. Farnaby's protest followed, delivered by Mr. Farnaby himself. He
+kept his gloves on when he called; he was solemn and pathetic; he
+remonstrated, in the character of one of the ancestors of Amelius; he
+pitied the ancient family "mouldering in the silent grave," he would
+abstain from deciding in a hurry, but his daughter's feelings were
+outraged, and he feared it might be his duty to break off the match.
+Amelius, with perfect good temper, offered him a free admission, and
+asked him to hear the lecture and decide for himself whether there was
+any harm in it. Mr. Farnaby turned his head away from the ticket as if
+it was something indecent. "Sad! sad!" That was his only farewell to
+the gentleman-Socialist.
+
+On the Sunday (being the only day in London on which a man can use his
+brains without being interrupted by street music), Amelius rehearsed
+his lecture. On the Monday, he paid his weekly visit to Regina.
+
+She was reported--whether truly or not it was impossible for him to
+discover--to have gone out in the carriage with Mrs. Ormond. Amelius
+wrote to her in soothing and affectionate terms, suggesting, as he had
+suggested to her father, that she should wait to hear the lecture
+before she condemned it. In the mean time, he entreated her to remember
+that they had promised to be true to one another, in time and
+eternity--Socialism notwithstanding.
+
+The answer came back by private messenger. The tone was serious.
+Regina's principles forbade her to attend a Socialist lecture. She
+hoped Amelius was in earnest in writing as he did about time and
+eternity. The subject was very awful to a rightly-constituted mind. On
+the next page, some mitigation of this severity followed in a
+postscript. Regina would wait at home to see Amelius, the day after his
+"regrettable appearance in public."
+
+The evening of Tuesday was the evening of the lecture.
+
+Rufus posted himself at the ticket-taker's office, in the interests of
+Amelius. "Even sixpences do sometimes stick to a man's fingers, on
+their way from the public to the money-box," he remarked. The sixpences
+did indeed flow in rapidly; the advertisements had, so far, produced
+their effect. But the reserved seats sold very slowly. The members of
+the Institution, who were admitted for nothing, arrived in large
+numbers, and secured the best places. Towards eight o'clock (the hour
+at which the lecture was to begin), the sixpenny audience was still
+pouring in. Rufus recognised Phoebe among the late arrivals, escorted
+by a person in the dress of a gentleman, who was palpably a blackguard
+nevertheless. A short stout lady followed, who warily shook hands with
+Rufus, and said, "Let me introduce you to Mr. Farnaby." Mr. Farnaby's
+mouth and chin were shrouded in a wrapper; his hat was over his
+eyebrows. Rufus observed that he looked as if he was ashamed of
+himself. A gaunt, dirty, savage old woman, miserably dressed, offered
+her sixpence to the moneytaker, while the two gentlemen were shaking
+hands; the example, it is needless to say, being set by Rufus. The old
+woman looked attentively at all that was visible of Mr. Farnaby--that
+is to say, at his eyes and his whiskers--by the gas-lamp hanging in the
+corridor. She instantly drew back, though she had got her ticket;
+waited until Mr. Farnaby had paid for his wife and himself, and then
+followed close behind them, into the hall.
+
+And why not? The advertisements addressed this wretched old creature as
+one of the poor and discontented public. Sixteen years ago, John
+Farnaby had put his own child into that woman's hands at Ramsgate, and
+had never seen either of them since.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 3
+
+Entering the hall, Mr. Farnaby discovered without difficulty the
+position of modest retirement of which he was in search.
+
+The cheap seats were situated, as usual, on that part of the floor of
+the building which was farthest from the platform. A gallery at this
+end of the hall threw its shadow over the hindermost benches and the
+gangway by which they were approached. In the sheltering obscurity thus
+produced, Mr. Farnaby took his place; standing in the corner formed by
+the angle it which the two walls of the building met, with his dutiful
+wife at his side.
+
+Still following them, unnoticed in the crowd, the old woman stopped at
+the extremity of the hindermost bench, looked close at a
+smartly-dressed young man who occupied the last seat at the end, and
+who paid marked attention to a pretty girl sitting by him, and
+whispered in his ear, "Now then, Jervy! can't you make room for Mother
+Sowler?"
+
+The man started and looked round. "You here?" he exclaimed, with an
+oath.
+
+Before he could say more, Phoebe whispered to him on the other side,
+"What a horrid old creature! How did you ever come to know her?"
+
+At the same moment, Mrs. Sowler reiterated her request in more
+peremptory language. "Do you hear, Jervy--do you hear? Sit a little
+closer."
+
+Jervy apparently had his reasons for treating the expression of Mrs.
+Sowler's wishes with deference, shabby as she was. Making abundant
+apologies, he asked his neighbours to favour him by sitting a little
+nearer to each other, and so contrive to leave a morsel of vacant space
+at the edge of the bench.
+
+Phoebe, making room under protest, began to whisper again. "What does
+she mean by calling you Jervy? She looks like a beggar. Tell her your
+name is Jervis."
+
+The reply she received did not encourage her to say more. "Hold your
+tongue; I have reasons for being civil to her--you be civil too."
+
+He turned to Mrs. Sowler, with the readiest submission to
+circumstances. Under the surface of his showy looks and his vulgar
+facility of manner, there lay hidden a substance of callous villainy
+and impenetrable cunning. He had in him the materials out of which the
+clever murderers are made, who baffle the police. If he could have done
+it with impunity, he would have destroyed without remorse the squalid
+old creature who sat by him, and who knew enough of his past career in
+England to send him to penal servitude for life. As it was, he spoke to
+her with a spurious condescension and good humour. "Why, it must be ten
+years, Mrs. Sowler, since I last saw you! What have you been doing?"
+
+The woman frowned at him as she answered. "Can't you look at me, and
+see? Starving!" She eyed his gaudy watch and chain greedily. "Money
+don't seem to be scarce with you. Have you made your fortune in
+America?"
+
+He laid his hand on her arm, and pressed it warningly. "Hush!" he said,
+under his breath. "We'll talk about that, after the lecture." His
+bright shifty black eyes turned furtively towards Phoebe--and Mrs.
+Sowler noticed it. The girl's savings in service had paid for his
+jewelry and his fine clothes. She silently resented his rudeness in
+telling her to "hold her tongue"; sitting, sullen, with her impudent
+little nose in the air. Jervy tried to include her indirectly in his
+conversation with his shabby old friend. "This young lady," he said,
+"knows Mr. Goldenheart. She feels sure he'll break down; and we've come
+here to see the fun. I don't hold with Socialism myself--I am for, what
+my favourite newspaper calls, the Altar and the Throne. In short, my
+politics are Conservative."
+
+"Your politics are in your girl's pocket," muttered Mrs. Sowler. "How
+long will her money last?"
+
+Jervy turned a deaf ear to the interruption. "And what has brought you
+here?" he went on, in his most ingratiating way. "Did you see the
+advertisement in the papers?"
+
+Mrs. Sowler answered loud enough to be heard above the hum of talking
+in the sixpenny places. "I was having a drop of gin, and I saw the
+paper at the public-house. I'm one of the discontented poor. I hate
+rich people; and I'm ready to pay my sixpence to hear them abused."
+
+"Hear, hear!" said a man near, who looked like a shoemaker.
+
+"I hope he'll give it to the aristocracy," added one of the shoemaker's
+neighbours, apparently a groom out of place.
+
+"I'm sick of the aristocracy," cried a woman with a fiery face and a
+crushed bonnet. "It's them as swallows up the money. What business have
+they with their palaces and their parks, when my husband's out of work,
+and my children hungry at home?"
+
+The acquiescent shoemaker listened with admiration. "Very well put," he
+said; "very well put."
+
+These expressions of popular feeling reached the respectable ears of
+Mr. Farnaby. "Do you hear those wretches?" he said to his wife.
+
+Mrs. Farnaby seized the welcome opportunity of irritating him. "Poor
+things!" she answered. "In their place, we should talk as they do."
+
+"You had better go into the reserved seats," rejoined her husband,
+turning from her with a look of disgust. "There's plenty of room. Why
+do you stop here?"
+
+"I couldn't think of leaving you, my dear! How did you like my American
+friend?"
+
+"I am astonished at your taking the liberty of introducing him to me.
+You knew perfectly well that I was here incognito. What do I care about
+a wandering American?"
+
+Mrs. Farnaby persisted as maliciously as ever. "Ah, but you see, I like
+him. The wandering American is my ally."
+
+"Your ally! What do you mean?"
+
+"Good heavens, how dull you are! don't you know that I object to my
+niece's marriage engagement? I was quite delighted when I heard of this
+lecture, because it's an obstacle in the way. It disgusts Regina, and
+it disgusts You--and my dear American is the man who first brought it
+about. Hush! here's Amelius. How well he looks! So graceful and so
+gentlemanlike," cried Mrs. Farnaby, signalling with her handkerchief to
+show Amelius their position in the hall. "I declare I'm ready to become
+a Socialist before he opens his lips!"
+
+The personal appearance of Amelius took the audience completely by
+surprise. A man who is young and handsome is not the order of man who
+is habitually associated in the popular mind with the idea of a
+lecture. After a moment of silence, there was a spontaneous burst of
+applause. It was renewed when Amelius, first placing on his table a
+little book, announced his intention of delivering the lecture
+extempore. The absence of the inevitable manuscript was in itself an
+act of mercy that cheered the public at starting.
+
+The orator of the evening began.
+
+"Ladies and gentlemen, thoughtful people accustomed to watch the signs
+of the times in this country, and among the other nations of Europe,
+are (so far as I know) agreed in the conclusion, that serious changes
+are likely to take place in present forms of government, and in
+existing systems of society, before the century in which we live has
+reached its end. In plain words, the next revolution is not so
+unlikely, and not so far off, as it pleases the higher and wealthier
+classes among European populations to suppose. I am one of those who
+believe that the coming convulsion will take the form, this time, of a
+social revolution, and that the man at the head of it will not be a
+military or a political man--but a Great Citizen, sprung from the
+people, and devoted heart and soul to the people's cause. Within the
+limits assigned to me to-night, it is impossible that I should speak to
+you of government and society among other nations, even if I possessed
+the necessary knowledge and experience to venture on so vast a subject.
+All that I can now attempt to do is (first) to point out some of the
+causes which are paving the way for a coming change in the social and
+political condition of this country; and (secondly) to satisfy you that
+the only trustworthy remedy for existing abuses is to be found in the
+system which Christian Socialism extracts from this little book on my
+table--the book which you all know under the name of The New Testament.
+Before, however, I enter on my task, I feel it a duty to say one
+preliminary word on the subject of my claim to address you, such as it
+is. I am most unwilling to speak of myself--but my position here forces
+me to do so. I am a stranger to all of you; and I am a very young man.
+Let me tell you, then, briefly, what my life has been, and where I have
+been brought up--and then decide for yourselves whether it is worth
+your while to favour me with your attention, or not."
+
+"A very good opening," remarked the shoemaker.
+
+"A nice-looking fellow," said the fiery-faced woman, "I should like to
+kiss him."
+
+"He's too civil by half," grumbled Mrs. Sowler; "I wish I had my
+sixpence back in my pocket."
+
+"Give him time." whispered Jervy, "and he'll warm up. I say, Phoebe, he
+doesn't begin like a man who is going to break down. I don't expect
+there will be much to laugh at to-night."
+
+"What an admirable speaker!" said Mrs. Farnaby to her husband. "Fancy
+such a man as that, being married to such an idiot as Regina!"
+
+"There's always a chance for him," returned Mr. Farnaby, savagely, "as
+long as he's not married to such a woman as You!"
+
+In the mean time, Amelius had claimed national kindred with his
+audience as an Englishman, and had rapidly sketched his life at Tadmor,
+in its most noteworthy points. This done, he put the question whether
+they would hear him. His frankness and freshness had already won the
+public: they answered by a general shout of applause.
+
+"Very well," Amelius proceeded, "now let us get on. Suppose we take a
+glance (we have no time to do more) at the present state of our
+religious system, first. What is the public aspect of the thing called
+Christianity, in the England of our day? A hundred different sects all
+at variance with each other. An established church, rent in every
+direction by incessant wrangling--disputes about black gowns or white;
+about having candlesticks on tables, or off tables; about bowing to the
+east or bowing to the west; about which doctrine collects the most
+respectable support and possesses the largest sum of money, the
+doctrine in my church, or the doctrine in your church, or the doctrine
+in the church over the way. Look up, if you like, from this
+multitudinous and incessant squabbling among the rank and file, to the
+high regions in which the right reverend representatives of state
+religion sit apart. Are they Christians? If they are, show me the
+Bishop who dare assert his Christianity in the House of Lords, when the
+ministry of the day happens to see its advantage in engaging in a war!
+Where is that Bishop, and how many supporters does he count among his
+own order? Do you blame me for using intemperate language--language
+which I cannot justify? Take a fair test, and try me by that. The
+result of the Christianity of the New Testament is to make men true,
+humane, gentle, modest, strictly scrupulous and strictly considerate in
+their dealings with their neighbours. Does the Christianity of the
+churches and the sects produce these results among us? Look at the
+staple of the country, at the occupation which employs the largest
+number of Englishmen of all degrees--Look at our Commerce. What is its
+social aspect, judged by the morality which is in this book in my hand?
+Let those organised systems of imposture, masquerading under the
+disguise of banks and companies, answer the question--there is no need
+for me to answer it. You know what respectable names are associated,
+year after year, with the shameless falsification of accounts, and the
+merciless ruin of thousands on thousands of victims. You know how our
+poor Indian customer finds his cotton-print dress a sham that falls to
+pieces; how the savage who deals honestly with us for his weapon finds
+his gun a delusion that bursts; how the half-starved needlewoman who
+buys her reel of thread finds printed on the label a false statement of
+the number of yards that she buys; you know that, in the markets of
+Europe, foreign goods are fast taking the place of English goods,
+because the foreigner is the most honest manufacturer of the two--and,
+lastly, you know, what is worse than all, that these cruel and wicked
+deceptions, and many more like them, are regarded, on the highest
+commercial authority, as 'forms of competition' and justifiable
+proceedings in trade. Do you believe in the honourable accumulation of
+wealth by men who hold such opinions and perpetrate such impostures as
+these? I don't! Do you find any brighter and purer prospect when you
+look down from the man who deceives you and me on the great scale, to
+the man who deceives us on the small? I don't! Everything we eat,
+drink, and wear is a more or less adulterated commodity; and that very
+adulteration is sold to us by the tradesmen at such outrageous prices,
+that we are obliged to protect ourselves on the Socialist principle, by
+setting up cooperative shops of our own. Wait! and hear me out, before
+you applaud. Don't mistake the plain purpose of what I am saying to
+you; and don't suppose that I am blind to the brighter side of the dark
+picture that I have drawn. Look within the limits of private life, and
+you will find true Christians, thank God, among clergymen and laymen
+alike; you will find men and women who deserve to be called, in the
+highest sense of the word, disciples of Christ. But my business is not
+with private life--my business is with the present public aspect of the
+religion, morals, and politics of this country; and again I say it,
+that aspect presents one wide field of corruption and abuse, and
+reveals a callous and shocking insensibility on the part of the nation
+at large to the spectacle of its own demoralisation and disgrace."
+
+There Amelius paused, and took his first drink of water.
+
+Reserved seats at public performances seem, by some curious affinity,
+to be occupied by reserved persons. The select public, seated nearest
+to the orator, preserved discreet silence. But the hearty applause from
+the sixpenny places made ample amends. There was enough of the
+lecturer's own vehemence and impetuosity in this opening
+attack--sustained as it undeniably was by a sound foundation of
+truth--to appeal strongly to the majority of his audience. Mrs. Sowler
+began to think that her sixpence had been well laid out, after all; and
+Mrs. Farnaby pointed the direct application to her husband of all the
+hardest hits at commerce, by nodding her head at him as they were
+delivered.
+
+Amelius went on.
+
+"The next thing we have to discover is this: Will our present system of
+government supply us with peaceable means for the reform of the abuses
+which I have already noticed? not forgetting that other enormous abuse,
+represented by our intolerable national expenditure, increasing with
+every year. Unless you insist on it, I do not propose to waste our
+precious time by saying anything about the House of Lords, for three
+good reasons. In the first place, that assembly is not elected by the
+people, and it has therefore no right of existence in a really free
+country. In the second place, out of its four hundred and eighty-five
+members, no less than one hundred and eighty-four directly profit by
+the expenditure of the public money; being in the annual receipt, under
+one pretence or another, of more than half a million sterling. In the
+third place, if the assembly of the Commons has in it the will, as well
+as the capacity, to lead the way in the needful reforms, the assembly
+of the Lords has no alternative but to follow, or to raise the
+revolution which it only escaped, by a hair's-breadth, some forty years
+since. What do you say? Shall we waste our time in speaking of the
+House of Lords?"
+
+Loud cries from the sixpenny benches answered No; the ostler and the
+fiery-faced woman being the most vociferous of all. Here and there,
+certain dissentient individuals raised a little hiss--led by Jervy, in
+the interests of "the Altar and the Throne."
+
+Amelius resumed.
+
+"Well, will the House of Commons help us to get purer Christianity, and
+cheaper government, by lawful and sufficient process of reform? Let me
+again remind you that this assembly has the power--if it has the will.
+Is it so constituted at present as to have the will? There is the
+question! The number of members is a little over six hundred and fifty.
+Out of this muster, one fifth only represent (or pretend to represent)
+the trading interests of the country. As for the members charged with
+the interests of the working class, they are more easily counted
+still--they are two in number! Then, in heaven's name (you will ask),
+what interest does the majority of members in this assembly represent?
+There is but one answer--the military and aristocratic interest. In
+these days of the decay of representative institutions, the House of
+Commons has become a complete misnomer. The Commons are not
+represented; modern members belong to classes of the community which
+have really no interest in providing for popular needs and lightening
+popular burdens. In one word, there is no sort of hope for us in the
+House of Commons. And whose fault is this? I own it with shame and
+sorrow--it is emphatically the fault of the people. Yes, I say to you
+plainly, it is the disgrace and the peril of England that the people
+themselves have elected the representative assembly which ignores the
+people's wants! You voters, in town and county alike, have had every
+conceivable freedom and encouragement secured to you in the exercise of
+your sacred trust--and there is the modern House of Commons to prove
+that you are thoroughly unworthy of it!"
+
+These bold words produced an outbreak of disapprobation from the
+audience, which, for the moment, completely overpowered the speaker's
+voice. They were prepared to listen with inexhaustible patience to the
+enumeration of their virtues and their wrongs--but they had not paid
+sixpence each to be informed of the vicious and contemptible part which
+they play in modern politics. They yelled and groaned and hissed--and
+felt that their handsome young lecturer had insulted them!
+
+Amelius waited quietly until the disturbance had worn itself out.
+
+"I am sorry I have made you angry with me," he said, smiling. "The
+blame for this little disturbance really rests with the public speakers
+who are afraid of you and who flatter you--especially if you belong to
+the working classes. You are not accustomed to have the truth told you
+to your faces. Why, my good friends, the people in this country, who
+are unworthy of the great trust which the wise and generous English
+constitution places in their hands, are so numerous that they can be
+divided into distinct classes! There is the highly-educated class which
+despairs, and holds aloof. There is the class beneath--without
+self-respect, and therefore without public spirit--which can be bribed
+indirectly, by the gift of a place, by the concession of a lease, even
+by an invitation to a party at a great house which includes the wives
+and the daughters. And there is the lower class still--mercenary,
+corrupt, shameless to the marrow of its bones--which sells itself and
+its liberties for money and drink. When I began this discourse, and
+adverted to great changes that are to come, I spoke of them as
+revolutionary changes. Am I an alarmist? Do I unjustly ignore the
+capacity for peaceable reformation which has preserved modern England
+from revolutions, thus far? God forbid that I should deny the truth, or
+that I should alarm you without need! But history tells me, if I look
+no farther back than to the first French Revolution, that there are
+social and political corruptions, which strike their roots in a nation
+so widely and so deeply, that no force short of the force of a
+revolutionary convulsion can tear them up and cast them away. And I do
+personally fear (and older and wiser men than I agree with me), that
+the corruptions at which I have only been able to hint, in this brief
+address, are fast extending themselves--in England, as well as in
+Europe generally--beyond the reach of that lawful and bloodless reform
+which has served us so well in past years. Whether I am mistaken in
+this view (and I hope with all my heart it may be so), or whether
+events yet in the future will prove that I am right, the remedy in
+either case, the one sure foundation on which a permanent, complete,
+and worthy reformation can be built--whether it prevents a convulsion
+or whether it follows a convulsion--is only to be found within the
+covers of this book. Do not, I entreat you, suffer yourselves to be
+persuaded by those purblind philosophers who assert that the divine
+virtue of Christianity is a virtue which is wearing out with the lapse
+of time. It is the abuse and corruption of Christianity that is wearing
+out--as all falsities and all impostures must and do wear out. Never,
+since Christ and his apostles first showed men the way to be better and
+happier, have the nations stood in sorer need of a return to that
+teaching, in its pristine purity and simplicity, than now! Never, more
+certainly than at this critical time, was it the interest as well as
+the duty of mankind to turn a deaf ear to the turmoil of false
+teachers, and to trust in that all-wise and all-merciful Voice which
+only ceased to exalt, console, and purify humanity, when it expired in
+darkness under the torture of the cross! Are these the wild words of an
+enthusiast? Is this the dream of an earthly Paradise in which it is
+sheer folly to believe? I can tell you of one existing community (one
+among others) which numbers some hundreds of persons; and which has
+found prosperity and happiness, by reducing the whole art and mystery
+of government to the simple solution set forth in the New
+Testament--fear God, and love thy neighbour as thyself."
+
+By these gradations Amelius arrived at the second of the two parts into
+which he had divided his address.
+
+He now repeated, at greater length and with a more careful choice of
+language, the statement of the religious and social principles of the
+Community at Tadmor, which he had already addressed to his two
+fellow-travellers on the voyage to England. While he confined himself
+to plain narrative, describing a mode of life which was entirely new to
+his hearers, he held the attention of the audience. But when he began
+to argue the question of applying Christian Socialism to the government
+of large populations as well as small--when he inquired logically
+whether what he had proved to be good for some hundreds of persons was
+not also good for some thousands, and, conceding that, for some
+hundreds of thousands, and so on until he had arrived, by dint of sheer
+argument, at the conclusion that what had succeeded at Tadmor must
+necessarily succeed on a fair trial in London--then the public interest
+began to flag. People remembered their coughs and colds, and talked in
+whispers, and looked about them with a vague feeling of relief in
+staring at each other. Mrs. Sowler, hitherto content with furtively
+glancing at Mr. Farnaby from time to time, now began to look at him
+more boldly, as he stood in his corner with his eyes fixed sternly on
+the platform at the other end of the hall. He too began to feel that
+the lecture was changing its tone. It was no longer the daring outbreak
+which he had come to hear, as his sufficient justification (if
+necessary) for forbidding Amelius to enter his house. "I have had
+enough of it," he said, suddenly turning to his wife, "let us go."
+
+If Mrs. Farnaby could have been forewarned that she was standing in
+that assembly of strangers, not as one of themselves, but as a woman
+with a formidable danger hanging over her head--or if she had only
+happened to look towards Phoebe, and had felt a passing reluctance to
+submit herself to the possibly insolent notice of a discharged
+servant--she might have gone out with her husband, and might have so
+escaped the peril that had been lying in wait for her, from the fatal
+moment when she first entered the hall. As it was she refused to move.
+"You forget the public discussion," she said. "Wait and see what sort
+of fight Amelius makes of it when the lecture is over."
+
+She spoke loud enough to be heard by some of the people seated nearest
+to her. Phoebe, critically examining the dresses of the few ladies in
+the reserved seats, twisted round on the bench, and noticed for the
+first time the presence of Mr. and Mrs. Farnaby in their dim corner.
+"Look!" she whispered to Jervy, "there's the wretch who turned me out
+of her house without a character, and her husband with her."
+
+Jervy looked round, in his turn, a little doubtful of the accuracy of
+his sweetheart's information. "Surely they wouldn't come to the
+sixpenny places," he said. "Are you certain it's Mr. and Mrs. Farnaby?"
+
+He spoke in cautiously-lowered tones; but Mrs. Sowler had seen him look
+back at the lady and gentleman in the corner, and was listening
+attentively to catch the first words that fell from his lips.
+
+"Which is Mr. Farnaby?" she asked.
+
+"The man in the corner there, with the white silk wrapper over his
+mouth, and his hat down to his eyebrows."
+
+Mrs. Sowler looked round for a moment--to make sure that Jervy's man
+and her man were one and the same.
+
+"Farnaby?" she muttered to herself, in the tone of a person who heard
+the name for the first time. She considered a little, and leaning
+across Jervy, addressed herself to his companion. "My dear," she
+whispered, "did that gentleman ever go by the name of Morgan, and have
+his letters addressed to the George and Dragon, in Tooley-street?"
+
+Phoebe lifted her eyebrows with a look of contemptuous surprise, which
+was an answer in itself. "Fancy the great Mr. Farnaby going by an
+assumed name, and having his letters addressed to a public-house!" she
+said to Jervy.
+
+Mrs. Sowler asked no more questions. She relapsed into muttering to
+herself, under her breath. "His whiskers have turned gray, to be
+sure--but I know his eyes again; I'll take my oath to it, there's no
+mistaking _his_ eyes!" She suddenly appealed to Jervy. "Is Mr. Farnaby
+rich?" she asked.
+
+"Rolling in riches!" was the answer.
+
+"Where does he live?"
+
+Jervy was cautious how he replied to that; he consulted Phoebe. "Shall
+I tell her?"
+
+Phoebe answered petulantly, "I'm turned out of the house; I don't care
+what you tell her!"
+
+Jervy again addressed the old woman, still keeping his information in
+reserve. "Why do you want to know where he lives?"
+
+"He owes me money," said Mrs. Sowler.
+
+Jervy looked hard at her, and emitted a long low whistle, expressive of
+blank amazement. The persons near, annoyed by the incessant whispering,
+looked round irritably, and insisted on silence. Jervy ventured
+nevertheless on a last interruption. "You seem to be tired of this," he
+remarked to Phoebe; "let's go and get some oysters." She rose directly.
+Jervy tapped Mrs. Sowler on the shoulder, as they passed her. "Come and
+have some supper," he said; "I'll stand treat."
+
+The three were necessarily noticed by their neighbours as they passed
+out. Mrs. Farnaby discovered Phoebe--when it was too late. Mr. Farnaby
+happened to look first at the old woman. Sixteen years of squalid
+poverty effectually disguised her, in that dim light. He only looked
+away again, and said to his wife impatiently, "Let us go too!"
+
+Mrs. Farnaby was still obstinate. "You can go if you like," she said;
+"I shall stay here."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 4
+
+"Three dozen oysters, bread-and-butter, and bottled stout; a private
+room and a good fire." Issuing these instructions, on his arrival at
+the tavern, Jervy was surprised by a sudden act of interference on the
+part of his venerable guest. Mrs. Sowler actually took it on herself to
+order her own supper!
+
+"Nothing cold to eat or drink for me," she said. "Morning and night,
+waking and sleeping, I can't keep myself warm. See for yourself, Jervy,
+how I've lost flesh since you first knew me! A steak, broiling hot from
+the gridiron, and gin-and-water, hotter still--that's the supper for
+me."
+
+"Take the order, waiter," said Jervy, resignedly; "and let us see the
+private room."
+
+The tavern was of the old-fashioned English sort, which scorns to learn
+a lesson of brightness and elegance from France. The private room can
+only be described as a museum for the exhibition of dirt in all its
+varieties. Behind the bars of the rusty little grate a dying fire was
+drawing its last breath. Mrs. Sowler clamoured for wood and coals;
+revived the fire with her own hands; and seated herself shivering as
+close to the fender as the chair would go. After a while, the composing
+effect of the heat began to make its influence felt: the head of the
+half-starved wretch sank: a species of stupor overcame her--half
+faintness, and half sleep.
+
+Phoebe and her sweetheart sat together, waiting the appearance of the
+supper, on a little sofa at the other end of the room. Having certain
+objects to gain, Jervy put his arm round her waist, and looked and
+spoke in his most insinuating manner.
+
+"Try and put up with Mother Sowler for an hour or two," he said. "My
+sweet girl, I know she isn't fit company for you! But how can I turn my
+back on an old friend?"
+
+"That's just what surprises me," Phoebe answered. "I don't understand
+such a person being a friend of yours."
+
+Always ready with the necessary lie, whenever the occasion called for
+it, Jervy invented a pathetic little story, in two short parts. First
+part: Mrs. Sowler, rich and respected; a widow inhabiting a
+villa-residence, and riding in her carriage. Second part: a villainous
+lawyer; misplaced confidence; reckless investments; death of the
+villain; ruin of Mrs. Sowler. "Don't talk about her misfortunes when
+she wakes," Jervy concluded, "or she'll burst out crying, to a dead
+certainty. Only tell me, dear Phoebe, would _you_ turn your back on a
+forlorn old creature because she has outlived all her other friends,
+and hasn't a farthing left in the world? Poor as I am, I can help her
+to a supper, at any rate."
+
+Phoebe expressed her admiration of these noble sentiments by an
+inexpensive ebullition of tenderness, which failed to fulfill Jervy's
+private anticipations. He had aimed straight at her purse--and he had
+only hit her heart! He tried a broad hint next. "I wonder whether I
+shall have a shilling or two left to give Mrs. Sowler, when I have paid
+for the supper?" He sighed, and pulled out some small change, and
+looked at it in eloquent silence. Phoebe was hit in the right place at
+last. She handed him her purse. "What is mine will be yours, when we
+are married," she said; "why not now?" Jervy expressed his sense of
+obligation with the promptitude of a grateful man; he repeated those
+precious words, "My sweet girl!" Phoebe laid her head on his
+shoulder--and let him kiss her, and enjoyed it in silent ecstasy with
+half-closed eyes. The scoundrel waited and watched her, until she was
+completely under his influence. Then, and not till then, he risked the
+gradual revelation of the purpose which had induced him to withdraw
+from the hall, before the proceedings of the evening had reached their
+end.
+
+"Did you hear what Mrs. Sowler said to me, just before we left the
+lecture?" he asked.
+
+"No, dear."
+
+"You remember that she asked me to tell her Farnaby's address?"
+
+"Oh yes! And she wanted to know if he had ever gone by the name of
+Morgan. Ridiculous--wasn't it?"
+
+"I'm not so sure of that, my dear. She told me, in so many words, that
+Farnaby owed her money. He didn't make his fortune all at once, I
+suppose. How do we know what he might have done in his young days, or
+how he might have humbugged a feeble woman. Wait till our friend there
+at the fire has warmed her old bones with some hot grog--and I'll find
+out something more about Farnaby's debt."
+
+"Why, dear? What is it to you?"
+
+Jervy reflected for a moment, and decided that the time had come to
+speak more plainly.
+
+"In the first place," he said, "it would only be an act of common
+humanity, on my part, to help Mrs. Sowler to get her money. You see
+that, don't you? Very well. Now, I am no Socialist, as you are aware;
+quite the contrary. At the same time, I am a remarkably just man; and I
+own I was struck by what Mr. Goldenheart said about the uses to which
+wealthy people are put, by the Rules at Tadmor. 'The man who has got
+the money is bound, by the express law of Christian morality, to use it
+in assisting the man who has got none.' Those were his words, as nearly
+as I can remember them. He put it still more strongly afterwards; he
+said, 'A man who hoards up a large fortune, from a purely selfish
+motive--either because he is a miser, or because he looks only to the
+aggrandisement of his own family after his death--is, in either case,
+an essentially unchristian person, who stands in manifest need of
+enlightenment and control by Christian law.' And then, if you remember,
+some of the people murmured; and Mr. Goldenheart stopped them by
+reading a line from the New Testament, which said exactly what he had
+been saying--only in fewer words. Now, my dear girl, Farnaby seems to
+me to be one of the many people pointed at in this young gentleman's
+lecture. Judging by looks, I should say he was a hard man."
+
+"That's just what he is--hard as iron! Looks at his servants as if they
+were dirt under his feet; and never speaks a kind word to them from one
+year's end to another."
+
+"Suppose I guess again? He's not particularly free-handed with his
+money--is he?"
+
+"He! He will spend anything on himself and his grandeur; but he never
+gave away a halfpenny in his life."
+
+Jervy pointed to the fireplace, with a burst of virtuous indignation.
+"And there's that poor old soul starving for want of the money he owes
+her! Damn it, I agree with the Socialists; it's a virtue to make that
+sort of man bleed. Look at you and me! We are the very people he ought
+to help--we might be married at once, if we only knew where to find a
+little money. I've seen a deal of the world, Phoebe; and my experience
+tells me there's something about that debt of Farnaby's which he
+doesn't want to have known. Why shouldn't we screw a few five-pound
+notes for ourselves out of the rich miser's fears?"
+
+Phoebe was cautious. "It's against the law--ain't it?" she said.
+
+"Trust me to keep clear of the law," Jervy answered. "I won't stir in
+the matter till I know for certain that he daren't take the police into
+his confidence. It will be all easy enough when we are once sure of
+that. You have been long enough in the family to find out Farnaby's
+weak side. Would it do, if we got at him, to begin with, through his
+wife?"
+
+Phoebe suddenly reddened to the roots of her hair. "Don't talk to me
+about his wife!" she broke out fiercely; "I've got a day of reckoning
+to come with that lady--" She looked at Jervy and checked herself. He
+was watching her with an eager curiosity, which not even his ready
+cunning was quick enough to conceal.
+
+"I wouldn't intrude on your little secrets, darling, for the world!" he
+said, in his most persuasive tones. "But, if you want advice, you know
+that I am heart and soul at your service."
+
+Phoebe looked across the room at Mrs. Sowler, still nodding over the
+fire.
+
+"Never mind now," she said; "I don't think it's a matter for a man to
+advise about--it's between Mrs. Farnaby and me. Do what you like with
+her husband; I don't care; he's a brute, and I hate him. But there's
+one thing I insist on--I won't have Miss Regina frightened or annoyed;
+mind that! She's a good creature. There, read the letter she wrote to
+me yesterday, and judge for yourself."
+
+Jervy looked at the letter. It was not very long. He resignedly took
+upon himself the burden of reading it.
+
+
+"DEAR PHOEBE,
+
+"Don't be downhearted. I am your friend always, and I will help you to
+get another place. I am sorry to say that it was indeed Mrs. Ormond who
+found us out that day. She had her suspicions, and she watched us, and
+told my aunt. This she owned to me with her own lips. She said, 'I
+would do anything, my dear, to save you from an ill-assorted marriage.'
+I am very wretched about it, because I can never look on her as my
+friend again. My aunt, as you know, is of Mrs. Ormond's way of
+thinking. You must make allowances for her hot temper. Remember, out of
+your kindness towards me, you had been secretly helping forward the
+very thing which she was most anxious to prevent. That made her very
+angry; but, never fear, she will come round in time. If you don't want
+to spend your little savings, while you are waiting for another
+situation, let me know. A share of my pocket-money is always at your
+service.
+
+"Your friend,
+
+"REGINA."
+
+
+"Very nice indeed," said Jervy, handing the letter back, and yawning as
+he did it. "And convenient, too, if we run short of money. Ah, here's
+the waiter with the supper, at last! Now, Mrs. Sowler, there's a time
+for everything--it's time to wake up."
+
+He lifted the old woman off her chair, and settled her before the
+table, like a child. The sight of the hot food and drink roused her to
+a tigerish activity. She devoured the meat with her eyes as well as her
+teeth; she drank the hot gin-and-water in fierce gulps, and set down
+the glass with audible gasps of relief. "Another one," she cried, "and
+I shall begin to feel warm again!"
+
+Jervy, watching her from the opposite side of the table, with Phoebe
+close by him as usual, had his own motives for encouraging her to talk,
+by the easy means of encouraging her to drink. He sent for another
+glass of the hot grog. Phoebe, daintily picking up her oysters with her
+fork, affected to be shocked at Mrs. Sowler's coarse method of eating
+and drinking. She kept her eyes on her plate, and only consented to
+taste malt liquor under modest protest. When Jervy lit a cigar, after
+finishing his supper, she reminded him, in an impressively genteel
+manner, of the consideration which he owed to the presence of an
+elderly lady. "I like it myself, dear," she said mincingly; "but
+perhaps Mrs. Sowler objects to the smell?"
+
+Mrs. Sowler burst into a hoarse laugh. "Do I look as if I was likely to
+be squeamish about smells?" she asked, with the savage contempt for her
+own poverty, which was one of the dangerous elements in her character.
+"See the place I live in, young woman, and then talk about smells if
+you like!"
+
+This was indelicate. Phoebe picked a last oyster out of its shell, and
+kept her eyes modestly fixed on her plate. Observing that the second
+glass of gin-and-water was fast becoming empty, Jervy risked the first
+advances, on his way to Mrs. Sowler's confidence.
+
+"About that debt of Farnaby's?" he began. "Is it a debt of long
+standing?"
+
+Mrs. Sowler was on her guard. In other words, Mrs. Sowler's head was
+only assailable by hot grog, when hot grog was administered in large
+quantities. She said it was a debt of long standing, and she said no
+more.
+
+"Has it been standing seven years?"
+
+Mrs. Sowler emptied her glass, and looked hard at Jervy across the
+table. "My memory isn't good for much, at my time of life." She gave
+him that answer, and she gave him no more.
+
+Jervy yielded with his best grace. "Try a third glass," he said;
+"there's luck, you know, in odd numbers."
+
+Mrs. Sowler met this advance in the spirit in which it was made. She
+was obliging enough to consult her memory, even before the third glass
+made its appearance. "Seven years, did you say?" she repeated. "More
+than twice seven years, Jervy! What do you think of that?"
+
+Jervy wasted no time in thinking. He went on with his questions.
+
+"Are you quite sure that the man I pointed out to you, at the lecture,
+is the same man who went by the name of Morgan, and had his letters
+addressed to the public-house?"
+
+"Quite sure. I'd swear to him anywhere--only by his eyes."
+
+"And have you never yet asked him to pay the debt?"
+
+"How could I ask him, when I never knew what his name was till you told
+me to-night?"
+
+"What amount of money does he owe you?"
+
+Whether Mrs. Sowler had her mind prophetically fixed on a fourth glass
+of grog, or whether she thought it time to begin asking questions on
+her own account, is not easy to say. Whatever her motive might be, she
+slyly shook her head, and winked at Jervy. "The money's my business,"
+she remarked. "You tell me where he lives--and I'll make him pay me."
+
+Jervy was equal to the occasion. "You won't do anything of the sort,"
+he said.
+
+Mrs. Sowler laughed defiantly. "So you think, my fine fellow!"
+
+"I don't think at all, old lady--I'm certain. In the first place,
+Farnaby don't owe you the debt by law, after seven years. In the second
+place, just look at yourself in the glass there. Do you think the
+servants will let you in, when you knock at Farnaby's door? You want a
+clever fellow to help you--or you'll never recover that debt."
+
+Mrs. Sowler was accessible to reason (even half-way through her third
+glass of grog), when reason was presented to her in convincing terms.
+She came to the point at once. "How much do you want?" she asked.
+
+"Nothing," Jervy answered; "I don't look to _you_ to pay my
+commission."
+
+Mrs. Sowler reflected a little--and understood him. "Say that again,"
+she insisted, "in the presence of your young woman as witness."
+
+Jervy touched his young woman's hand under the table, warning her to
+make no objection, and to leave it to him. Having declared for the
+second time that he would not take a farthing from Mrs. Sowler, he went
+on with his inquiries.
+
+"I'm acting in your interests, Mother Sowler," he said; "and you'll be
+the loser, if you don't answer my questions patiently, and tell me the
+truth. I want to go back to the debt. What is it for?"
+
+"For six weeks' keep of a child, at ten shillings a week."
+
+Phoebe looked up from her plate.
+
+"Whose child?" Jervy asked, noticing the sudden movement.
+
+"Morgan's child--the same man you said was Farnaby."
+
+"Do you know who the mother was?"
+
+"I wish I did! I should have got the money out of her long ago."
+
+Jervy stole a look at Phoebe. She had turned pale; she was listening,
+with her eyes riveted on Mrs. Sowler's ugly face.
+
+"How long ago was it?" Jervy went on.
+
+"Better than sixteen years."
+
+"Did Farnaby himself give you the child?"
+
+"With his own hands, over the garden-paling of a house at Ramsgate. He
+saw me and the child into the train for London. I had ten pounds from
+him, and no more. He promised to see me, and settle everything, in a
+month's time. I have never set eyes on him from that day, till I saw
+him paying his money this evening at the door of the hall."
+
+Jervy stole another look at Phoebe. She was still perfectly unconscious
+that he was observing her. Her attention was completely absorbed by
+Mrs. Sowler's replies. Speculating on the possible result, Jervy
+abandoned the question of the debt, and devoted his next inquiries to
+the subject of the child.
+
+"I promise you every farthing of your money, Mother Sowler," he said,
+"with interest added to it. How old was the child when Farnaby gave it
+to you?"
+
+"Old? Not a week old, I should say!"
+
+"Not a week old?" Jervy repeated, with his eye on Phoebe. "Dear, dear
+me, a newborn baby, one may say!"
+
+The girl's excitement was fast getting beyond control. She leaned
+across the table, in her eagerness to hear more.
+
+"And how long was this poor child under your care?" Jervy went on.
+
+"How can I tell you, at this distance of time? For some months, I
+should say. This I'm certain of--I kept it for six good weeks after the
+ten pounds he gave me were spent. And then--" she stopped, and looked
+at Phoebe.
+
+"And then you got rid of it?"
+
+Mrs. Sowler felt for Jervy's foot under the table, and gave it a
+significant kick. "I have done nothing to be ashamed of, miss," she
+said, addressing her answer defiantly to Phoebe. "Being too poor to
+keep the little dear myself, I placed it under the care of a good lady,
+who adopted it."
+
+Phoebe could restrain herself no longer. She burst out with the next
+question, before Jervy could open his lips.
+
+"Do you know where the lady is now?"
+
+"No," said Mrs. Sowler shortly; "I don't."
+
+"Do you know where to find the child?"
+
+Mrs. Sowler slowly stirred up the remains of her grog. "I know no more
+than you do. Any more questions, miss?"
+
+Phoebe's excitement completely blinded her to the evident signs of a
+change in Mrs. Sowler's temper for the worse. She went on headlong.
+
+"Have you never seen the child since you gave her to the lady?"
+
+Mrs. Sowler set down her glass, just as she was raising it to her lips.
+Jervy paused, thunderstruck, in the act of lighting a second cigar.
+
+_"Her?"_ Mrs. Sowler repeated slowly, her eyes fixed on Phoebe with a
+lowering expression of suspicion and surprise. "Her?" She turned to
+Jervy. "Did you ask me if the child was a girl or a boy?"
+
+"I never even thought of it," Jervy replied.
+
+"Did I happen to say it myself, without being asked?"
+
+Jervy deliberately abandoned Phoebe to the implacable old wretch,
+before whom she had betrayed herself. It was the only likely way of
+forcing the girl to confess everything. "No," he answered; "you never
+said it without being asked."
+
+Mrs. Sowler turned once more to Phoebe. "How do you know the child was
+a girl?" she inquired.
+
+Phoebe trembled, and said nothing. She sat with her head down, and her
+hands, fast clasped together, resting on her lap.
+
+"Might I ask, if you please," Mrs. Sowler proceeded, with a ferocious
+assumption of courtesy, "how old you are, miss? You're young enough and
+pretty enough not to mind answering to your age, I'm sure."
+
+Even Jervy's villainous experience of the world failed to forewarn him
+of what was coming. Phoebe, it is needless to say, instantly fell into
+the trap.
+
+"Twenty-four," she replied, "next birthday."
+
+"And the child was put into my hands, sixteen years ago," said Mrs.
+Sowler. "Take sixteen from twenty-four, and eight remains. I'm more
+surprised than ever, miss, at your knowing it to be a girl. It couldn't
+have been your child--could it?"
+
+Phoebe started to her feet, in a state of fury. "Do you hear that?" she
+cried, appealing to Jervy. "How dare you bring me here to be insulted
+by that drunken wretch?"
+
+Mrs. Sowler rose, on her side. The old savage snatched up her empty
+glass--intending to throw it at Phoebe. At the same moment, the ready
+Jervy caught her by the arm, dragged her out of the room, and shut the
+door behind them.
+
+There was a bench on the landing outside. He pushed Mrs. Sowler down on
+the bench with one hand, and took Phoebe's purse out of his pocket with
+the other. "Here's a pound," he said, "towards the recovery of that
+debt of yours. Go home quietly, and meet me at the door of this house
+tomorrow evening, at six."
+
+Mrs. Sowler, opening her lips to protest, suddenly closed them again,
+fascinated by the sight of the gold. She clutched the coin, and became
+friendly and familiar in a moment. "Help me downstairs, deary," she
+said, "and put me into a cab. I'm afraid of the night air."
+
+"One word more, before I put you into a cab," said Jervy. "What did you
+really do with the child?"
+
+Mrs. Sowler grinned hideously, and whispered her reply, in the
+strictest confidence.
+
+"Sold her to Moll Davies, for five-and-sixpence."
+
+"Who was Moll Davis?"
+
+"A cadger."
+
+"And you really know nothing now of Moll Davis or the child?"
+
+"Should I want you to help me if I did?" Mrs. Sowler asked
+contemptuously. "They may be both dead and buried, for all I know to
+the contrary."
+
+Jervy put her into the cab, without further delay. "Now for the other
+one!" he said to himself, as he hurried back to the private room.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 5
+
+Some men would have found it no easy task to console Phoebe, under the
+circumstances. Jervy had the immense advantage of not feeling the
+slightest sympathy for her: he was in full command of his large
+resources of fluent assurance and ready flattery. In less than five
+minutes, Phoebe's tears were dried, and her lover had his arm round her
+waist again, in the character of a cherished and forgiven man.
+
+"Now, my angel!" he said (Phoebe sighed tenderly; he had never called
+her his angel before), "tell me all about it in confidence. Only let me
+know the facts, and I shall see my way to protecting you against any
+annoyance from Mrs. Sowler in the future. You have made a very
+extraordinary discovery. Come closer to me, my dear girl. Did it happen
+in Farnaby's house?"
+
+"I heard it in the kitchen," said Phoebe.
+
+Jervy started. "Did any one else hear it?" he asked.
+
+"No. They were all in the housekeeper's room, looking at the Indian
+curiosities which her son in Canada had sent to her. I had left my bird
+on the dresser--and I ran into the kitchen to put the cage in a safe
+place, being afraid of the cat. One of the swinging windows in the
+skylight was open; and I heard voices in the back room above, which is
+Mrs. Farnaby's room."
+
+"Whose voices did you hear?"
+
+"Mrs. Farnaby's voice, and Mr. Goldenheart's."
+
+"Mrs. Farnaby?" Jervy repeated, in surprise. "Are you sure it was
+_Mrs.?"_
+
+"Of course I am! Do you think I don't know that horrid woman's voice?
+She was saying a most extraordinary thing when I first heard her--she
+was asking if there was anything wrong in showing her naked foot. And a
+man answered, and the voice was Mr. Goldenheart's. You would have felt
+curious to hear more, if you had been in my place, wouldn't you? I
+opened the second window in the kitchen, so as to make sure of not
+missing anything. And what do you think I heard her say?"
+
+"You mean Mrs. Farnaby?"
+
+"Yes. I heard her say, 'Look at my right foot--you see there's nothing
+the matter with it.' And then, after a while, she said, 'Look at my
+left foot--look between the third toe and the fourth.' Did you ever
+hear of such a audacious thing for a married woman to say to a young
+man?"
+
+"Go on! go on! What did _he_ say?"
+
+"Nothing; I suppose he was looking at her foot."
+
+"Her left foot?"
+
+"Yes. Her left foot was nothing to be proud of, I can tell you! By her
+own account, she has some horrid deformity in it, between the third toe
+and the fourth. No; I didn't hear her say what the deformity was. I
+only heard her call it so--and she said her 'poor darling' was born
+with the same fault, and that was her defence against being imposed
+upon by rogues--I remember the very words--'in the past days when I
+employed people to find her.' Yes! she said _'her.'_ I heard it
+plainly. And she talked afterwards of her 'poor lost daughter', who
+might be still living somewhere, and wondering who her mother was.
+Naturally enough, when I heard that hateful old drunkard talking about
+a child given to her by Mr. Farnaby, I put two and two together. Dear
+me, how strangely you look! What's wrong with you?"
+
+"I'm only very much interested--that's all. But there's one thing I
+don't understand. What had Mr. Goldenheart to do with all this?"
+
+"Didn't I tell you?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Well, then, I tell you now. Mrs. Farnaby is not only a heartless
+wretch, who turns a poor girl out of her situation, and refuses to give
+her a character--she's a fool besides. That precious exhibition of her
+nasty foot was to inform Mr. Goldenheart of something she wanted him to
+know. If he happened to meet with a girl, in his walks or his travels,
+and if he found that she had the same deformity in the same foot, then
+he might know for certain--"
+
+"All right! I understand. But why Mr. Goldenheart?"
+
+"Because she had a dream that Mr. Goldenheart had found the lost girl,
+and because she thought there was one chance in a hundred that her
+dream might come true! Did you ever hear of such a fool before? From
+what I could make out, I believe she actually cried about it. And that
+same woman turns me into the street to be ruined, for all she knows or
+cares. Mind this! I would have kept her secret--it was no business of
+mine, after all--if she had behaved decently to me. As it is, I mean to
+be even with her; and what I heard down in the kitchen is more than
+enough to help me to it. I'll expose her somehow--I don't quite know
+how; but that will come with time. You will keep the secret, dear, I'm
+sure. We are soon to have all our secrets in common, when we are man
+and wife, ain't we? Why, you're not listening to me! What _is_ the
+matter with you?"
+
+Jervy suddenly looked up. His soft insinuating manner had vanished; he
+spoke roughly and impatiently.
+
+"I want to know something. Has Farnaby's wife got money of her own?"
+
+Phoebe's mind was still disturbed by the change in her lover. "You
+speak as if you were angry with me," she said.
+
+Jervy recovered his insinuating tones, with some difficulty. "My dear
+girl, I love you! How can I be angry with you? You've set me
+thinking--and it bothers me a little, that's all. Do you happen to know
+if Mrs. Farnaby has got money of her own?"
+
+Phoebe answered this time. "I've heard Miss Regina say that Mrs.
+Farnaby's father was a rich man," she said.
+
+"What was his name?"
+
+"Ronald."
+
+"Do you know when he died?"
+
+"No."
+
+Jervy fell into thought again, biting his nails in great perplexity.
+After a moment or two, an idea came to him. "The tombstone will tell
+me!" he exclaimed, speaking to himself. He turned to Phoebe, before she
+could express her surprise, and asked if she knew where Mr. Ronald was
+buried.
+
+"Yes," said Phoebe, "I've heard that. In Highgate cemetery. But why do
+you want to know?"
+
+Jervy looked at his watch. "It's getting late," he said; "I'll see you
+safe home."
+
+"But I want to know--"
+
+"Put on your bonnet, and wait till we are out in the street."
+
+Jervy paid the bill, with all needful remembrance of the waiter. He was
+generous, he was polite; but he was apparently in no hurry to favour
+Phoebe with the explanation that he had promised. They had left the
+tavern for some minutes--and he was still rude enough to remain
+absorbed in his own reflections. Phoebe's patience gave way.
+
+"I have told you everything," she said reproachfully; "I don't call it
+fair dealing to keep me in the dark after that."
+
+He roused himself directly. "My dear girl, you entirely mistake me!"
+
+The reply was as ready as usual; but it was spoken rather absently.
+Only that moment, he had decided on informing Phoebe (to some extent,
+at least) of the purpose which he was then meditating. He would
+infinitely have preferred using Mrs. Sowler as his sole accomplice. But
+he knew the girl too well to run that risk. If he refused to satisfy
+her curiosity, she would be deterred by no scruples of delicacy from
+privately watching him; and she might say something (either by word of
+month or by writing) to the kind young mistress who was in
+correspondence with her, which might lead to disastrous results. It was
+of the last importance to him, so far to associate Phoebe with his
+projected enterprise, as to give her an interest of her own in keeping
+his secrets.
+
+"I have not the least wish," he resumed, "to conceal any thing from
+you. So far as I can see my way at present, you shall see it too."
+Reserving in this dexterous manner the freedom of lying, whenever he
+found it necessary to depart from the truth, he smiled encouragingly,
+and waited to be questioned.
+
+Phoebe repeated the inquiry she had made at the tavern. "Why do you
+want to know where Mr. Ronald is buried?" she asked bluntly.
+
+"Mr. Ronald's tombstone, my dear, will tell me the date of Mr. Ronald's
+death," Jervy rejoined. "When I have got the date, I shall go to a
+place near St. Paul's, called Doctors' Commons; I shall pay a shilling
+fee, and I shall have the privilege of looking at Mr. Ronald's will."
+
+"And what good will that do you?"
+
+"Very properly put, Phoebe! Even shillings are not to be wasted, in our
+position. But my shilling will buy two sixpennyworths of information. I
+shall find out what sum of money Mr. Ronald has left to his daughter;
+and I shall know for certain whether Mrs. Farnaby's husband has any
+power over it, or not."
+
+"Well?" said Phoebe, not much interested so far--"and what then?"
+
+Jervy looked about him. They were in a crowded thoroughfare at the
+time. He preserved a discreet silence, until they had arrived at the
+first turning which led down a quiet street.
+
+"What I have to tell you," he said, "must not be accidentally heard by
+anybody. Here, my dear, we are all but out of the world--and here I can
+speak to you safely. I promise you two good things. You shall bring
+Mrs. Farnaby to that day of reckoning; and we will find money enough to
+marry on comfortably as soon as you like."
+
+Phoebe's languid interest in the subject began to revive: she insisted
+on having a clearer explanation than this. "Do you mean to get the
+money out of Mr. Farnaby?" she inquired.
+
+"I will have nothing to do with Mr. Farnaby--unless I find that his
+wife's money is not at her own disposal. What you heard in the kitchen
+has altered all my plans. Wait a minute--and you will see what I am
+driving at. How much do you think Mrs. Farnaby would give me, if I
+found that lost daughter of hers?"
+
+Phoebe suddenly stood still, and looked at the sordid scoundrel who was
+tempting her in blank amazement.
+
+"But nobody knows where the daughter is," she objected.
+
+"You and I know that the daughter has a deformity in her left foot,"
+Jervy replied; "and you and I know exactly in what part of the foot it
+is. There's not only money to be made out of that knowledge--but money
+made easily, without the slightest risk. Suppose I managed the matter
+by correspondence, without appearing in it personally? Don't you think
+Mrs. Farnaby would open her purse beforehand, if I mentioned the exact
+position of that little deformity, as a proof that I was to be depended
+on?"
+
+Phoebe was unable, or unwilling, to draw the obvious conclusion, even
+now.
+
+"But, what would you do," she said, "when Mrs. Farnaby insisted on
+seeing her daughter?"
+
+There was something in the girl's tone--half fearful, half
+suspicious--which warned Jervy that he was treading on dangerous
+ground. He knew perfectly well what he proposed to do, in the case that
+had been so plainly put him. It was the simplest thing in the world. He
+had only to make an appointment with Mrs. Farnaby for a meeting on a
+future day, and to take to flight in the interval; leaving a polite
+note behind him to say that it was all a mistake, and that he regretted
+being too poor to return the money. Having thus far acknowledged the
+design he had in view, could he still venture on answering his
+companion without reserve? Phoebe was vain, Phoebe was vindictive; and,
+more promising still, Phoebe was a fool. But she was not yet capable of
+consenting to an act of the vilest infamy, in cold blood. Jervy looked
+at her--and saw that the foreseen necessity for lying had come at last.
+
+"That's just the difficulty," he said; "that's just where I don't see
+my way plainly yet. Can you advise me?"
+
+Phoebe started, and drew back from him. _"I_ advise you!" she
+exclaimed. "It frightens me to think of it. If you make her believe she
+is going to see her daughter, and if she finds out that you have robbed
+and deceived her, I can tell you this--with her furious temper--you
+would drive her mad."
+
+Jervy's reply was a model of well-acted indignation. "Don't talk of
+anything so horrible," he exclaimed. "If you believe me capable of such
+cruelty as that, go to Mrs. Farnaby, and warn her at once!"
+
+"It's too bad to speak to me in that way!" Phoebe rejoined, with the
+frank impetuosity of an offended woman. "You know I would die, rather
+than get you into trouble. Beg my pardon directly--or I won't walk
+another step with you!"
+
+Jervy made the necessary apologies, with all possible humility. He had
+gained his end--he could now postpone any further discussion of the
+subject, without arousing Phoebe's distrust. "Let us say no more about
+it, for the present," he suggested; "we will think it over, and talk of
+pleasanter things in the mean time. Kiss me, my dear girl; there's
+nobody looking."
+
+So he made peace with his sweetheart, and secured to himself, at the
+same time, the full liberty of future action of which he stood in need.
+If Phoebe asked any more questions, the necessary answer was obvious to
+the meanest capacity. He had merely to say, "The matter is beset with
+difficulties which I didn't see at first--I have given it up."
+
+Their nearest way back to Phoebe's lodgings took them through the
+street which led to the Hampden Institution. Passing along the opposite
+side of the road, they saw the private door opened. Two men stepped
+out. A third man, inside, called after one of them. "Mr. Goldenheart!
+you have left the statement of receipts in the waiting-room." "Never
+mind," Amelius answered; "the night's receipts are so small that I
+would rather not be reminded of them again." "In my country," a third
+voice remarked, "if he had lectured as he has lectured to-night, I
+reckon I'd have given him three hundred dollars, gold (sixty pounds,
+English currency), and have made my own profit by the transaction. The
+British nation has lost its taste, sir, for intellectual recreation. I
+wish you good evening."
+
+Jervy hurried Phoebe out of the way, just as the two gentlemen were
+crossing the street. He had not forgotten events at Tadmor--and he was
+by no means eager to renew his former acquaintance with Amelius.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 6
+
+Rufus and his young friend walked together silently as far as a large
+square. Here they stopped, having reached the point at which it was
+necessary to take different directions on their way home.
+
+"I've a word of advice, my son, for your private ear," said the New
+Englander. "The barometer behind your waistcoat points to a downhearted
+state of the moral atmosphere. Come along to home with me--you want a
+whisky cocktail badly."
+
+"No, thank you, my dear fellow," Amelius answered a little sadly. "I
+own I'm downhearted, as you say. You see, I expected this lecture to be
+a new opening for me. Personally, as you know, I don't care two straws
+about money. But my marriage depends on my adding to my income; and the
+first attempt I've made to do it has ended in a total failure. I'm all
+abroad again, when I look to the future--and I'm afraid I'm fool enough
+to let it weigh on my spirits. No, the cocktail isn't the right remedy
+for me. I don't get the exercise and fresh air, here, that I used to
+get at Tadmor. My head burns after all that talking to-night. A good
+long walk will put me right, and nothing else will."
+
+Rufus at once offered to accompany him. Amelius shook his head. "Did
+you ever walk a mile in your life, when you could ride?" he asked
+good-humouredly. "I mean to be on my legs for four or five hours; I
+should only have to send you home in a cab. Thank you, old fellow, for
+the brotherly interest you take in me. I'll breakfast with you
+to-morrow, at your hotel. Good night."
+
+Some curious prevision of evil seemed to trouble the mind of the good
+New Englander. He held Amelius fast by the hand: he said, very
+earnestly, "It goes against the grit with me to see you wandering off
+by yourself at this time of night--it does, I tell you! Do me a favour
+for once, my bright boy--go right away to bed."
+
+Amelius laughed, and released his hand. "I shouldn't sleep, if I did go
+to bed. Breakfast to-morrow, at ten o'clock. Goodnight, again!"
+
+He started on his walk, at a pace which set pursuit on the part of
+Rufus at defiance. The American stood watching him, until he was lost
+to sight in the darkness. "What a grip that young fellow has got on me,
+in no more than a few months!" Rufus thought, as he slowly turned away
+in the direction of his hotel. "Lord send the poor boy may keep clear
+of mischief this night!"
+
+Meanwhile, Amelius walked on swiftly, straight before him, careless in
+what direction he turned his steps, so long as he felt the cool air and
+kept moving.
+
+His thoughts were not at first occupied with the doubtful question of
+his marriage; the lecture was still the uppermost subject in his mind.
+He had reserved for the conclusion of his address the justification of
+his view of the future, afforded by the widespread and frightful
+poverty among the millions of the population of London alone. On this
+melancholy theme he had spoken with the eloquence of true feeling, and
+had produced a strong impression, even on those members of the audience
+who were most resolutely opposed to the opinions which he advocated.
+Without any undue exercise of self-esteem, he could look back on the
+close of his lecture with the conviction that he had really done
+justice to himself and to his cause. The retrospect of the public
+discussion that had followed failed to give him the same pleasure. His
+warm temper, his vehemently sincere belief in the truth of his own
+convictions, placed him at a serious disadvantage towards the more
+self-restrained speakers (all older than himself) who rose, one after
+another, to combat his views. More than once he had lost his temper,
+and had been obliged to make his apologies. More than once he had been
+indebted to the ready help of Rufus, who had taken part in the battle
+of words, with the generous purpose of covering his retreat. "No!" he
+thought to himself, with bitter humility, "I'm not fit for public
+discussions. If they put me into Parliament tomorrow, I should only get
+called to order and do nothing."
+
+He reached the bank of the Thames, at the eastward end of the Strand.
+
+Walking straight on, as absently as ever, he crossed Waterloo Bridge,
+and followed the broad street that lay before him on the other side. He
+was thinking of the future again: Regina was in his mind now. The one
+prospect that he could see of a tranquil and happy life--with duties as
+well as pleasures; duties that might rouse him to find the vocation for
+which he was fit--was the prospect of his marriage. What was the
+obstacle that stood in his way? The vile obstacle of money; the
+contemptible spirit of ostentation which forbade him to live humbly on
+his own sufficient little income, and insisted that he should purchase
+domestic happiness at the price of the tawdry splendour of a rich
+tradesman and his friends. And Regina, who was free to follow her own
+better impulses--Regina, whose heart acknowledged him as its
+master--bowed before the golden image which was the tutelary deity of
+her uncle's household, and said resignedly, Love must wait!
+
+Still walking blindly on, he was roused on a sudden to a sense of
+passing events. Crossing a side-street at the moment, a man caught him
+roughly by the arm, and saved him from being run over. The man had a
+broom in his hand; he was a crossing-sweeper. "I think I've earned my
+penny, sir!" he said.
+
+Amelius gave him half-a-crown. The man shouldered his broom, and tossed
+up the money, in a transport of delight. "Here's something to go home
+with!" he cried, as he caught the half-crown again.
+
+"Have you got a family at home?" Amelius asked.
+
+"Only one, sir," said the man. "The others are all dead. She's as good
+a girl and as pretty a girl as ever put on a petticoat--though I say it
+that shouldn't. Thank you kindly, sir. Good night!"
+
+Amelius looked after the poor fellow, happy at least for that night!
+"If I had only been lucky enough to fall in love with the
+crossing-sweeper's daughter," he thought bitterly, _"she_ would have
+married me when I asked her."
+
+He looked along the street. It curved away in the distance, with no
+visible limit to it. Arrived at the next side-street on his left,
+Amelius turned down it, weary of walking longer in the same direction.
+Whither it might lead him he neither knew nor cared. In his present
+humour it was a pleasurable sensation to feel himself lost in London.
+
+The short street suddenly widened; a blaze of flaring gaslight dazzled
+his eyes; he heard all round him the shouting of innumerable voices. For
+the first time since he had been in London, he found himself in one of
+the street-markets of the poor.
+
+On either side of the road, the barrows of the costermongers--the
+wandering tradesmen of the highway--were drawn up in rows; and every
+man was advertising his wares, by means of the cheap publicity of his
+own voice. Fish and vegetables; pottery and writing-paper;
+looking-glasses, saucepans, and coloured prints--all appealed together
+to the scantily filled purses of the crowds who thronged the pavement.
+One lusty vagabond stood up in a rickety donkey-cart, knee-deep in
+apples, selling a great wooden measure full for a penny, and yelling
+louder than all the rest. "Never was such apples sold in the public
+streets before! Sweet as flowers, and sound as a bell. Who says the
+poor ain't looked after," cried the fellow, with ferocious irony, "when
+they can have such apple-sauce as this to their loin of pork? Here's
+nobby apples; here's a penn'orth for your money. Sold again! Hullo,
+you! you look hungry. Catch! there's an apple for nothing, just to
+taste. Be in time, be in time before they're all sold!" Amelius moved
+forward a few steps, and was half deafened by rival butchers, shouting,
+"Buy, buy, buy!" to audiences of ragged women, who fingered the meat
+doubtfully, with longing eyes. A little farther--and there was a blind
+man selling staylaces, and singing a Psalm; and, beyond him again, a
+broken-down soldier playing "God save the Queen" on a tin flageolet.
+The one silent person in this sordid carnival was a Lascar beggar, with
+a printed placard round his neck, addressed to "The Charitable Public."
+He held a tallow candle to illuminate the copious narrative of his
+misfortunes; and the one reader he obtained was a fat man, who
+scratched his head, and remarked to Amelius that he didn't like
+foreigners. Starving boys and girls lurked among the costermongers'
+barrows, and begged piteously on pretence of selling cigar-lights and
+comic songs. Furious women stood at the doors of public-houses, and
+railed on their drunken husbands for spending the house-money in gin. A
+thicker crowd, towards the middle of the street, poured in and out at
+the door of a cookshop. Here the people presented a less terrible
+spectacle--they were even touching to see. These were the patient poor,
+who bought hot morsels of sheep's heart and liver at a penny an ounce,
+with lamentable little mouthfuls of peas-pudding, greens, and potatoes
+at a halfpenny each. Pale children in corners supped on penny basins of
+soup, and looked with hungry admiration at their enviable neighbours
+who could afford to buy stewed eels for twopence. Everywhere there was
+the same noble resignation to their hard fate, in old and young alike.
+No impatience, no complaints. In this wretched place, the language of
+true gratitude was still to be heard, thanking the good-natured cook
+for a little spoonful of gravy thrown in for nothing--and here, humble
+mercy that had its one superfluous halfpenny to spare gave that
+halfpenny to utter destitution, and gave it with right good-will.
+Amelius spent all his shillings and sixpences, in doubling and trebling
+the poor little pennyworths of food--and left the place with tears in
+his eyes.
+
+He was near the end of the street by this time. The sight of the misery
+about him, and the sense of his own utter inability to remedy it,
+weighed heavily on his spirits. He thought of the peaceful and
+prosperous life at Tadmor. Were his happy brethren of the Community and
+these miserable people about him creatures of the same all-merciful
+God? The terrible doubts which come to all thinking men--the doubts
+which are not to be stifled by crying "Oh, fie!" in a pulpit--rose
+darkly in his mind. He quickened his pace. "Let me let out of it," he
+said to himself, "let me get out of it!"
+
+
+
+BOOK THE SIXTH
+
+FILIA DOLOROSA
+
+CHAPTER 1
+
+Amelius found it no easy matter to pass quickly through the people
+loitering and gossiping about him. There was greater freedom for a
+rapid walker in the road. He was on the point of stepping off the
+pavement, when a voice behind him--a sweet soft voice, though it spoke
+very faintly--said, "Are you good-natured, sir?"
+
+He turned, and found himself face to face with one of the saddest
+sisterhood on earth--the sisterhood of the streets.
+
+His heart ached as he looked at her, she was so poor and so young. The
+lost creature had, to all appearance, barely passed the boundary
+between childhood and girlhood--she could hardly be more than fifteen
+or sixteen years old. Her eyes, of the purest and loveliest blue,
+rested on Amelius with a vacantly patient look, like the eyes of a
+suffering child. The soft oval outline of her face would have been
+perfect if the cheeks had been filled out; they were wasted and hollow,
+and sadly pale. Her delicate lips had none of the rosy colour of youth;
+and her finely modelled chin was disfigured by a piece of plaster
+covering some injury. She was little and thin; her worn and scanty
+clothing showed her frail youthful figure still waiting for its
+perfection of growth. Her pretty little bare hands were reddened by the
+raw night air. She trembled as Amelius looked at her in silence, with
+compassionate wonder. But for the words in which she had accosted him,
+it would have been impossible to associate her with the lamentable life
+that she led. The appearance of the girl was artlessly virginal and
+innocent; she looked as if she had passed through the contamination of
+the streets without being touched by it, without fearing it, or feeling
+it, or understanding it. Robed in pure white, with her gentle blue eyes
+raised to heaven, a painter might have shown her on his canvas as a
+saint or an angel; and the critical world would have said, Here is the
+true ideal--Raphael himself might have painted this!
+
+"You look very pale," said Amelius. "Are you ill?"
+
+"No, sir--only hungry."
+
+Her eyes half closed; she reeled from sheer weakness as she said the
+words. Amelius held her up, and looked round him. They were close to a
+stall at which coffee and slices of bread-and-butter were sold. He
+ordered some coffee to be poured out, and offered her the food. She
+thanked him and tried to eat. "I can't help it, sir," she said faintly.
+The bread dropped from her hand; her weary head sank on his shoulder.
+
+Two young women--older members of the sad sisterhood--were passing at
+the moment. "She's too far gone, sir, to eat," said one of them. "I
+know what would do her good, if you don't mind going into a
+public-house."
+
+"Where is it?" said Amelius. "Be quick!"
+
+One of the women led the way. The other helped Amelius to support the
+girl. They entered the crowded public-house. In less than a minute, the
+first woman had forced her way through the drunken customers at the
+bar, and had returned with a glass of port-wine and cloves. The girl
+revived as the stimulant passed her lips. She opened her innocent blue
+eyes again, in vague surprise. "I shan't die this time," she said
+quietly.
+
+A corner of the place was not occupied; a small empty cask stood there.
+Amelius made the poor creature sit down and rest a little. He had only
+gold in his purse; and, when the woman had paid for the wine, he
+offered her some of the change. She declined to take it. "I've got a
+shilling or two, sir," she said; "and I can take care of myself. Give
+it to Simple Sally."
+
+"You'll save her a beating, sir, for one night at least," said the
+other woman. "We call her Simple Sally, because she's a little soft,
+poor soul--hasn't grown up, you know, in her mind, since she was a
+child. Give her some of your change, sir, and you'll be doing a kind
+thing."
+
+All that is most unselfish, all that is most divinely compassionate and
+self-sacrificing in a woman's nature, was as beautiful and as undefiled
+as ever in these women--the outcasts of the hard highway!
+
+Amelius turned to the girl. Her head had sunk on her bosom; she was
+half asleep. She looked up as he approached her.
+
+"Would you have been beaten to-night," he asked, "if you had not met
+with me?"
+
+"Father always beats me, sir," said Simple Sally, "if I don't bring
+money home. He threw a knife at me last night. It didn't hurt much--it
+only cut me here," said the girl, pointing to the plaster on her chin.
+
+One of the women touched Amelius on the shoulder, and whispered to him.
+"He's no more her father, sir, than I am. She's a helpless
+creature--and he takes advantage of her. If I only had a place to take
+her to, he should never set eyes on her again. Show the gentleman your
+bosom, Sally."
+
+She opened her poor threadbare little shawl. Over the lovely girlish
+breast, still only growing to the rounded beauty of womanhood, there
+was a hideous blue-black bruise. Simple Sally smiled, and said, "That
+_did_ hurt me, sir. I'd rather have the knife."
+
+Some of the nearest drinkers at the bar looked round and laughed.
+Amelius tenderly drew the shawl over the girl's cold bosom. "For God's
+sake, let us get away from this place!" he said.
+
+The influence of the cool night air completed Simple Sally's recovery.
+She was able to eat now. Amelius proposed retracing his steps to the
+provision-shop, and giving her the best food that the place afforded.
+She preferred the bread-and-butter at the coffee-stall. Those thick
+slices, piled up on the plate, tempted her as a luxury. On trying the
+luxury, one slice satisfied her. "I thought I was hungry enough to eat
+the whole plateful," said the girl, turning away from the stall, in the
+vacantly submissive manner which it saddened Amelius to see. He bought
+more of the bread-and-butter, on the chance that her appetite might
+revive. While he was wrapping it in a morsel of paper, one of her elder
+companions touched him and whispered, "There he is, sir!" Amelius
+looked at her. "The brute who calls himself her father," the woman
+explained impatiently.
+
+Amelius turned, and saw Simple Sally with her arm in the grasp of a
+half-drunken ruffian; one of the swarming wild beasts of Low London,
+dirtied down from head to foot to the colour of the street mud--the
+living danger and disgrace of English civilization. As Amelius eyed
+him, he drew the girl away a step or two. "You've got a gentleman this
+time," he said to her; "I shall expect gold to-night, or else--!" He
+finished the sentence by lifting his monstrous fist, and shaking it in
+her face. Cautiously as he had lowered his tones in speaking, the words
+had reached the keenly sensitive ears of Amelius. Urged by his hot
+temper, he sprang forward. In another moment, he would have knocked the
+brute down--but for the timely interference of the arm of the law, clad
+in a policeman's great-coat. "Don't get yourself into trouble, sir,"
+said the man good-humouredly. "Now, you Hell-fire (that's the nice name
+they know him by, sir, in these parts), be off with you!" The wild
+beast on two legs cowered at the voice of authority, like the wild
+beast on four: he was lost to sight, at the dark end of the street, in
+a moment.
+
+"I saw him threaten her with his fist," said Amelius, his eyes still
+aflame with indignation. "He has bruised her frightfully on the breast.
+Is there no protection for the poor creature?"
+
+"Well, sir," the policeman answered, "you can summon him if you like. I
+dare say he'd get a month's hard labour. But, don't you see, it would
+be all the worse for her when he came out of prison."
+
+The policeman's view of the girl's position was beyond dispute. Amelius
+turned to her gently; she was shivering with cold or terror, perhaps
+with both. "Tell me," he said, "is that man really your father?"
+
+"Lord bless you, sir!" interposed the policeman, astonished at the
+gentleman's simplicity, "Simple Sally hasn't got father or mother--have
+you, my girl?"
+
+She paid no heed to the policeman. The sorrow and sympathy, plainly
+visible in Amelius, filled her with a childish interest and surprise.
+She dimly understood that it was sorrow and sympathy for _her._ The
+bare idea of distressing this new friend, so unimaginably kind and
+considerate, seemed to frighten her. "Don't fret about _me,_ sir," she
+said timidly; "I don't mind having no father nor mother; I don't mind
+being beaten." She appealed to the nearest of her two women-friends.
+"We get used to everything, don't we, Jenny?"
+
+Amelius could bear no more. "It's enough to break one's heart to hear
+you, and see you!" he burst out--and suddenly turned his head aside.
+His generous nature was touched to the quick; he could only control
+himself by an effort of resolution that shook him, body and soul. "I
+can't and won't let that unfortunate creature go back to be beaten and
+starved!" he said, passionately addressing himself to the policeman.
+"Oh, look at her! How helpless, and how young!"
+
+The policeman stared. These were strange words to him. But all true
+emotion carries with it, among all true people, its own title to
+respect. He spoke to Amelius with marked respect.
+
+"It's a hard case, sir, no doubt," he said. "The girl's a quiet,
+well-disposed creature--and the other two there are the same. They're
+of the sort that keep to themselves, and don't drink. They all of them
+do well enough, as long as they don't let the liquor overcome them.
+Half the time it's the men's fault when they do drink. Perhaps the
+workhouse might take her in for the night. What's this you've got girl,
+in your hand? Money?"
+
+Amelius hastened to say that he had given her the money. "The
+workhouse!" he repeated. "The very sound of it is horrible."
+
+"Make your mind easy, sir," said the policeman; "they won't take her in
+at the workhouse, with money in her hand."
+
+In sheer despair, Amelius asked helplessly if there was no hotel near.
+The policeman pointed to Simple Sally's threadbare and scanty clothes,
+and left them to answer the question for themselves. "There's a place
+they call a coffee-house," he said, with the air of a man who thought
+he had better provoke as little further inquiry on that subject as
+possible.
+
+Too completely pre-occupied, or too innocent in the ways of London, to
+understand the man, Amelius decided on trying the coffee-house. A
+suspicious old woman met them at the door, and spied the policeman in
+the background. Without waiting for any inquiries, she said, "All full
+for to-night,"--and shut the door in their faces.
+
+"Is there no other place?" said Amelius.
+
+"There's a lodging-house," the policeman answered, more doubtfully than
+ever. "It's getting late, sir; and I'm afraid you'll find 'em packed
+like herrings in a barrel. Come, and see for yourself."
+
+He led the way into a wretchedly lighted by-street, and knocked with
+his foot on a trap-door in the pavement. The door was pushed open from
+below, by a sturdy boy with a dirty night-cap on his head.
+
+"Any of 'em wanted to-night, sir?" asked the sturdy boy, the moment he
+saw the policeman.
+
+"What does he mean?" said Amelius.
+
+"There's a sprinkling of thieves among them, sir," the policeman
+explained. "Stand out of the way, Jacob, and let the gentleman look
+in."
+
+He produced his lantern, and directed the light downwards, as he spoke.
+Amelius looked in. The policeman's figure of speech, likening the
+lodgers to "herrings in a barrel," accurately described the scene. On
+the floor of a kitchen, men, women, and children lay all huddled
+together in closely packed rows. Ghastly faces rose terrified out of
+the seething obscurity, when the light of the lantern fell on them. The
+stench drove Amelius back, sickened and shuddering.
+
+"How's the sore place on your head, Jacob?" the policeman inquired.
+"This is a civil boy," he explained to Amelius, "and I like to
+encourage him."
+
+"I'm getting better, sir, as fast as I can," said the boy.
+
+"Good night, Jacob."
+
+"Good night, sir." The trap-door fell--and the lodging-house
+disappeared like the vision of a frightful dream.
+
+There was a moment of silence among the little group on the pavement.
+It was not easy to solve the question of what to do next. "There seems
+to be some difficulty," the policeman remarked, "about housing this
+girl for the night."
+
+"Why shouldn't we take her along with us?" one of the women suggested.
+"She won't mind sleeping three in a bed, I know."
+
+"What are you thinking of?" the other woman remonstrated. "When he
+finds she don't come home, our place will be the first place he looks
+for her in."
+
+Amelius settled the difficulty, in his own headlong way, "I'll take
+care of her for the night," he said. "Sally, will you trust yourself
+with me?"
+
+She put her hand in his, with the air of a child who was ready to go
+home. Her wan face brightened for the first time. "Thank you, sir," she
+said; "I'll go anywhere along with you."
+
+The policeman smiled. The two women looked thunderstruck. Before they
+had recovered themselves, Amelius forced them to take some money from
+him, and cordially shook hands with them. "You're good creatures," he
+said, in his eager, hearty way; "I'm sincerely sorry for you. Now, Mr.
+Policeman, show me where to find a cab--and take that for the trouble I
+am giving you. You're a humane man, and a credit to the force."
+
+In five minutes more, Amelius was on the way to his lodgings, with
+Simple Sally by his side. The act of reckless imprudence which he was
+committing was nothing but an act of Christian duty, to his mind. Not
+the slightest misgiving troubled him. "I shall provide for her in some
+way!" he thought to himself cheerfully. He looked at her. The weary
+outcast was asleep already in her corner of the cab. From time to time
+she still shivered, even in her sleep. Amelius took off his great-coat,
+and covered her with it. How some of his friends at the club would have
+laughed, if they had seen him at that moment!
+
+He was obliged to wake her when the cab stopped. His key admitted them
+to the house. He lit his candle in the hall, and led her up the stairs.
+"You'll soon be asleep again, Sally," he whispered.
+
+She looked round the little sitting-room with drowsy admiration. "What
+a pretty place to live in!" she said.
+
+"Are you hungry again?" Amelius asked.
+
+She shook her head, and took off her shabby bonnet; her pretty
+light-brown hair fell about her face and her shoulders. "I think I'm
+too tired, sir, to be hungry. Might I take the sofa-pillow, and lay
+down on the hearth-rug?"
+
+Amelius opened the door of his bedroom. "You are to pass the night more
+comfortably than that," he answered. "There is a bed for you here."
+
+She followed him in, and looked round the bedroom, with renewed
+admiration of everything that she saw. At the sight of the hairbrushes
+and the comb, she clapped her hands in ecstasy. "Oh, how different from
+mine!" she exclaimed. "Is the comb tortoise-shell, sir, like one sees
+in the shop-windows?" The bath and the towels attracted her next; she
+stood, looking at them with longing eyes, completely forgetful of the
+wonderful comb. "I've often peeped into the ironmongers' shops," she
+said, "and thought I should be the happiest girl in the world, if I had
+such a bath as that. A little pitcher is all I have got of my own, and
+they swear at me when I want it filled more than once. In all my life,
+I have never had as much water as I should like." She paused, and
+thought for a moment. The forlorn, vacant look appeared again, and
+dimmed the beauty of her blue eyes. "It will be hard to go back, after
+seeing all these pretty things," she said to herself--and sighed, with
+that inborn submission to her fate so melancholy to see in a creature
+so young.
+
+"You shall never go back again to that dreadful life," Amelius
+interposed. "Never speak of it, never think of it any more. Oh, don't
+look at me like that!"
+
+She was listening with an expression of pain, and with both her hands
+lifted to her head. There was something so wonderful in the idea which
+he had suggested to her, that her mind was not able to take it all in
+at once. "You make my head giddy," she said. "I'm such a poor stupid
+girl--I feel out of myself, like, when a gentleman like you sets me
+thinking of new things. Would you mind saying it again, sir?"
+
+"I'll say it to-morrow morning," Amelius rejoined kindly. "You are
+tired, Sally--go to rest."
+
+She roused herself, and looked at the bed. "Is that your bed, sir?"
+
+"It's your bed to-night," said Amelius. "I shall sleep on the sofa, in
+the next room."
+
+Her eyes rested on him, for a moment, in speechless surprise; she
+looked back again at the bed. "Are you going to leave me by myself?"
+she asked wonderingly. Not the faintest suggestion of immodesty--
+nothing that the most profligate man living could have interpreted
+impurely--showed itself in her look or manner, as she said those words.
+
+Amelius thought of what one of her women-friends had told him. "She
+hasn't grown up, you know, in her mind, since she was a child." There
+were other senses in the poor victim that were still undeveloped,
+besides the mental sense. He was at a loss how to answer her, with the
+respect which was due to that all-atoning ignorance. His silence amazed
+and frightened her.
+
+"Have I said anything to make you angry with me?" she asked.
+
+Amelius hesitated no longer. "My poor girl," he said, "I pity you from
+the bottom of my heart! Sleep well, Simple Sally--sleep well." He left
+her hurriedly, and shut the door between them.
+
+She followed him as far as the closed door; and stood there alone,
+trying to understand him, and trying all in vain! After a while, she
+found courage enough to whisper through the door. "If you please,
+sir--" She stopped, startled by her own boldness. He never heard her;
+he was standing at the window, looking out thoughtfully at the night;
+feeling less confident of the future already. She still stood at the
+door, wretched in the firm persuasion that she had offended him. Once
+she lifted her hand to knock at the door, and let it drop again at her
+side. A second time she made the effort, and desperately summoned the
+resolution to knock. He opened the door directly.
+
+"I'm very sorry if I said anything wrong," she began faintly, her
+breath coming and going in quick hysteric gasps. "Please forgive me,
+and wish me good night." Amelius took her hand; he said good night with
+the utmost gentleness, but he said it sorrowfully. She was not quite
+comforted yet. "Would you mind, sir--?" She paused awkwardly, afraid to
+go on. There was something so completely childlike in the artless
+perplexity of her eyes, that Amelius smiled. The change in his
+expression gave her back her courage in an instant; her pale delicate
+lips reflected his smile prettily. "Would you mind giving me a kiss,
+sir?" she said. Amelius kissed her. Let the man who can honestly say he
+would have done otherwise, blame him. He shut the door between them
+once more. She was quite happy now. He heard her singing to herself as
+she got ready for bed.
+
+Once, in the wakeful watches of the night, she startled him. He heard a
+cry of pain or terror in the bedroom. "What is it?" he asked through
+the door; "what has frightened you?" There was no answer. After a
+minute or two, the cry was repeated. He opened the door, and looked in.
+She was sleeping, and dreaming as she slept. One little thin white arm
+was lifted in the air, and waved restlessly to and fro over her head.
+"Don't kill me!" she murmured, in low moaning tones--"oh, don't kill
+me!" Amelius took her arm gently, and laid it back on the coverlet of
+the bed. His touch seemed to exercise some calming influence over her:
+she sighed, and turned her head on the pillow; a faint flush rose on
+her wasted cheeks, and passed away again--she sank quietly into
+dreamless sleep.
+
+Amelius returned to his sofa, and fell into a broken slumber. The hours
+of the night passed. The sad light of the November morning dawned
+mistily through the uncurtained window, and woke him.
+
+He started up, and looked at the bedroom door. "Now what is to be
+done?" That was his first thought, on waking: he was beginning to feel
+his responsibilities at last.
+
+
+CHAPTER 2
+
+The landlady of the lodgings decided what was to be done.
+
+"You will be so good, sir, as to leave my apartments immediately," she
+said to Amelius. "I make no claim to the week's rent, in consideration
+of the short notice. This is a respectable house, and it shall be kept
+respectable at any sacrifice."
+
+Amelius explained and protested; he appealed to the landlady's sense of
+justice and sense of duty, as a Christian woman.
+
+The reasoning which would have been irresistible at Tadmor was
+reasoning completely thrown away in London. The landlady remained as
+impenetrable as the Egyptian Sphinx. "If that creature in the bedroom
+is not out of my house in an hour's time, I shall send for the police."
+Having answered her lodger's arguments in those terms, she left the
+room, and banged the door after her.
+
+"Thank you, sir, for being so kind to me. I'll go away directly--and
+then, perhaps, the lady will forgive you."
+
+Amelius looked round. Simple Sally had heard it all. She was dressed in
+her wretched clothes, and was standing at the open bedroom door,
+crying,
+
+"Wait a little," said Amelius, wiping her eyes with his own
+handkerchief; "and we will go away together. I want to get you some
+better clothes; and I don't exactly know how to set about it. Don't
+cry, my dear--don't cry."
+
+The deaf maid-of-all-work came in, as he spoke. She too was in tears.
+Amelius had been good to her, in many little ways--and she was the
+guilty person who had led to the discovery in the bedroom. "If you had
+only told me, sir," she said pentitently, "I'd have kep' it secret.
+But, there, I went in with your 'ot water, as usual, and, O Lor', I was
+that startled I dropped the jug, and run downstairs again--!"
+
+Amelius stopped the further progress of the apology. "I don't blame
+you, Maria," he said; "I'm in a difficulty. Help me out of it; and you
+will do me a kindness."
+
+Maria partially heard him, and no more. Afraid of reaching the
+landlady's ears, as well as the maid's ears, if he raised his voice, he
+asked if she could read writing. Yes, she could read writing, if it was
+plain. Amelius immediately reduced the expression of his necessities to
+writing, in large text. Maria was delighted. She knew the nearest shop
+at which ready-made outer clothing for women could be obtained, and
+nothing was wanted, as a certain guide to an ignorant man, but two
+pieces of string. With one piece, she measured Simple Sally's height,
+and with the other she took the slender girth of the girl's
+waist--while Amelius opened his writing-desk, and supplied himself with
+the last sum of spare money that he possessed. He had just closed the
+desk again, when the voice of the merciless landlady was heard, calling
+imperatively for Maria.
+
+The maid-of-all-work handed the two indicative strings to Amelius.
+"They'll 'elp you at the shop," she said--and shuffled out of the room.
+
+Amelius turned to Simple Sally. "I am going to get you some new
+clothes," he began.
+
+The girl stopped him there: she was incapable of listening to a word
+more. Every trace of sorrow vanished from her face in an instant. She
+clapped her hands. "Oh!" she cried, "new clothes! clean clothes! Let me
+go with you."
+
+Even Amelius saw that it was impossible to take her out in the streets
+with him in broad daylight, dressed as she was then. "No, no," he said,
+"wait here till you get your new things. I won't be half an hour gone.
+Lock yourself in if you're afraid, and open the door to nobody till I
+come back!"
+
+Sally hesitated; she began to look frightened.
+
+"Think of the new dress, and the pretty bonnet," suggested Amelius,
+speaking unconsciously in the tone in which he might have promised a
+toy to a child.
+
+He had taken the right way with her. Her face brightened again. "I'll
+do anything you tell me," she said.
+
+He put the key in her hand, and was out in the street directly.
+
+Amelius possessed one valuable moral quality which is exceedingly rare
+among Englishmen. He was not in the least ashamed of putting himself in
+a ridiculous position, when he was conscious that his own motives
+justified him. The smiling and tittering of the shop-women, when he
+stated the nature of his errand, and produced his two pieces of string,
+failed to annoy him in the smallest degree. He laughed too. "Funny,
+isn't it," he said, "a man like me buying gowns and the rest of it? She
+can't come herself--and you'll advise me, like good creatures, won't
+you?" They advised their handsome young customer to such good purpose,
+that he was in possession of a gray walking costume, a black cloth
+jacket, a plain lavender-coloured bonnet, a pair of black gloves, and a
+paper of pins, in little more than ten minutes' time. The nearest
+trunk-maker supplied a travelling-box to hold all these treasures; and
+a passing cab took Amelius back to his lodgings, just as the half-hour
+was out. But one event had happened during his absence. The landlady
+had knocked at the door, had called through it in a terrible voice,
+"Half an hour more!" and had retired again without waiting for an
+answer.
+
+Amelius carried the box into the bedroom. "Be as quick as you can,
+Sally," he said--and left her alone, to enjoy the full rapture of
+discovering the new clothes.
+
+When she opened the door and showed herself, the change was so
+wonderful that Amelius was literally unable to speak to her. Joy
+flushed her pale cheeks, and diffused its tender radiance over her pure
+blue eyes. A more charming little creature, in that momentary
+transfiguration of pride and delight, no man's eyes ever looked on. She
+ran across the room to Amelius, and threw her arms round his neck. "Let
+me be your servant!" she cried; "I want to live with you all my life.
+Jump me up! I'm wild--I want to fly through the window." She caught
+sight of herself in the looking-glass, and suddenly became composed and
+serious. "Oh," she said, with the quaintest mixture of awe and
+astonishment, "was there ever such another bonnet as this? Do look at
+it--do please look at it!"
+
+Amelius good-naturedly approached to look at it. At the same moment the
+sitting-room door was opened, without any preliminary ceremony of
+knocking--and Rufus walked into the room. "It's half after ten," he
+said, "and the breakfast is spoiling as fast as it can."
+
+Before Amelius could make his excuses for having completely forgotten
+his engagement, Rufus discovered Sally. No woman, young or old, high in
+rank or low in rank, ever found the New Englander unprepared with his
+own characteristic acknowledgment of the debt of courtesy which he owed
+to the sex. With his customary vast strides, he marched up to Sally and
+insisted on shaking hands with her. "How do you find yourself, miss? I
+take pleasure in making your acquaintance." The girl turned to Amelius
+with wide-eyed wonder and doubt. "Go into the next room, Sally, for a
+minute or two," he said. "This gentleman is a friend of mine, and I
+have something to say to him."
+
+"That's an _active_ little girl," said Rufus, looking after her as she
+ran to the friendly shelter of the bedroom. "Reminds me of one of our
+girls at Coolspring--she does. Well, now, and who may Sally be?"
+
+Amelius answered the question, as usual, without the slightest reserve.
+Rufus waited in impenetrable silence until he had completed his
+narrative--then took him gently by the arm, and led him to the window.
+With his hands in his pockets and his long legs planted wide apart on
+his big feet, the American carefully studied the face of his young
+friend under the strongest light that could fall on it.
+
+"No," said Rufus, speaking quietly to himself, "the boy is not raving
+mad, so far as I can see. He has every appearance on him of meaning
+what he says. And this is what comes of the Community of Tadmor, is it?
+Well, civil and religious liberty is dearly purchased sometimes in the
+United States--and that's a fact."
+
+Amelius turned away to pack his portmanteau. "I don't understand you,"
+he said.
+
+"I don't suppose you do," Rufus remarked. "I am at a similar loss
+myself to understand _you._ My store of sensible remarks is copious on
+most occasions--but I'm darned if I ain't dried up in the face of this!
+Might I venture to ask what that venerable Chief Christian at Tadmor
+would say to the predicament in which I find my young Socialist this
+morning?"
+
+"What would he say?" Amelius repeated. "Just what he said when
+Mellicent first came among us. 'Ah, dear me! Another of the Fallen
+Leaves!' I wish I had the dear old man here to help me. _He_ would know
+how to restore that poor starved, outraged, beaten creature to the
+happy place on God's earth which God intended her to fill!"
+
+Rufus abruptly took him by the hand. "You mean that?" he said.
+
+"What else could I mean?" Amelius rejoined sharply.
+
+"Bring her right away to breakfast at the hotel!" cried Rufus, with
+every appearance of feeling infinitely relieved. "I don't say I can
+supply you with the venerable Chief Christian--but I can find a woman
+to fix you, who is as nigh to being an angel, barring the wings, as any
+she-creature since the time of mother Eve." He knocked at the bedroom
+door, turning a deaf ear to every appeal for further information which
+Amelius could address to him. "Breakfast is waiting, miss!" he called
+out; "and I'm bound to tell you that the temper of the cook at our
+hotel is a long way on the wrong side of uncertain. Well, Amelius, this
+is the age of exhibition. If there's ever an exhibition of ignorance in
+the business of packing a portmanteau, you run for the Gold Medal--and
+a unanimous jury will vote it, I reckon, to a young man from Tadmor.
+Clear out, will you, and leave it to me."
+
+He pulled off his coat, and conquered the difficulties of packing in a
+hurry, as if he had done nothing else all his life. The landlady
+herself, appearing with pitiless punctuality exactly at the expiration
+of the hour, "smoothed her horrid front" in the polite and placable
+presence of Rufus. He insisted on shaking hands with her; he took
+pleasure in making her acquaintance; she reminded him, he did assure
+her, of the lady of the captain-general of the Coolspring Branch of the
+St. Vitus Commandery; and he would take the liberty to inquire whether
+they were related or not. Under cover of this fashionable conversation,
+Simple Sally was taken out of the room by Amelius without attracting
+notice. She insisted on carrying her threadbare old clothes away with
+her in the box which had contained the new dress. "I want to look at
+them sometimes," she said, "and think how much better off I am now."
+Rufus was the last to take his departure; he persisted in talking to
+the landlady all the way down the stairs and out to the street door.
+
+While Amelius was waiting for his friend on the house-steps, a young
+man driving by in a cab leaned out and looked at him. The young man was
+Jervy, on his way from Mr. Ronald's tombstone to Doctors' Commons.
+
+
+CHAPTER 3
+
+With a rapid succession of events the morning had begun. With a rapid
+succession of events the day went on.
+
+The breakfast being over, rooms at the hotel were engaged by Rufus for
+his "two young friends." After this, the next thing to be done was to
+provide Simple Sally with certain necessary, but invisible, articles of
+clothing, which Amelius had never thought of. A note to the nearest
+shop produced the speedy arrival of a smart lady, accompanied by a boy
+and a large basket. There was some difficulty in persuading Sally to
+trust herself alone in her room with the stranger. She was afraid, poor
+soul, of everybody but Amelius. Even the good American failed to win
+her confidence. The distrust implanted in her feeble mind by the
+terrible life that she had led, was the instinctive distrust of a wild
+animal. "Why must I go among other people?" she whispered piteously to
+Amelius. "I only want to be with You!" It was as completely useless to
+reason with her as it would have been to explain the advantages of a
+comfortable cage to a newly caught bird. There was but one way of
+inducing her to submit to the most gently exerted interference. Amelius
+had only to say, "Do it, Sally, to please me." And Sally sighed, and
+did it.
+
+In her absence Amelius reiterated his inquiries, in relation to that
+unknown friend whom Rufus had not scrupled to describe as "an
+angel--barring the wings."
+
+The lady in question, the American briefly explained, was an
+Englishwoman--the wife of one of his countrymen, established in London
+as a merchant. He had known them both intimately before their departure
+from the United States; and the old friendship had been cordially
+renewed on his arrival in England. Associated with many other
+charitable institutions, Mrs. Payson was one of the managing committee
+of a "Home for Friendless Women," especially adapted to receive poor
+girls in Sally's melancholy position. Rufus offered to write a note to
+Mrs. Payson; inquiring at what hour she could receive his friend and
+himself, and obtain permission for them to see the "Home." Amelius,
+after some hesitation, accepted the proposal. The messenger had not
+been long despatched with the note before the smart person from the
+shop made her appearance once more, reporting that "the young lady's
+outfit had been perfectly arranged," and presenting the inevitable
+result in the shape of a bill. The last farthing of ready money in the
+possession of Amelius proved to be insufficient to discharge the debt.
+He accepted a loan from Rufus, until he could give his bankers the
+necessary order to sell out some of his money invested in the Funds.
+His answer, when Rufus protested against this course, was
+characteristic of the teaching which he owed to the Community. "My dear
+fellow, I am bound to return the money you have lent to me--in the
+interests of our poor brethren. The next friend who borrows of you may
+not have the means of paying you back."
+
+After waiting for the return of Simple Sally, and waiting in vain,
+Amelius sent a chambermaid to her room, with a message to her. Rufus
+disapproved of this hasty proceeding. "Why disturb the girl at her
+looking-glass?" asked the old bachelor, with his quaintly humorous
+smile.
+
+Sally came in with no bright pleasure in her eyes this time; the girl
+looked worn and haggard. She drew Amelius away into a corner, and
+whispered to him. "I get a pain sometimes where the bruise is," she
+said; "and I've got it bad, now." She glanced, with an odd furtive
+jealousy, at Rufus. "I kept away from you," she explained, "because I
+didn't want _him_ to know." She stopped, and put her hand on her bosom,
+and clenched her teeth fast. "Never mind," she said cheerfully, as the
+pang passed away again; "I can bear it."
+
+Amelius, acting on impulse, as usual, instantly ordered the most
+comfortable carriage that the hotel possessed. He had heard terrible
+stories of the possible result of an injury to a woman's bosom. "I
+shall take her to the best doctor in London," he announced. Sally
+whispered to him again--still with her eye on Rufus. "Is _he_ going
+with us?" she asked. "No," said Amelius; "one of us must stay here to
+receive a message." Rufus looked after them very gravely, as the two
+left the room together.
+
+Applying for information to the mistress of the hotel, Amelius obtained
+the address of a consulting surgeon of great celebrity, while Sally was
+getting ready to go out.
+
+"Why don't you like my good friend upstairs?" he said to the girl as
+they drove away from the house. The answer came swift and straight from
+the heart of the daughter of Eve. "Because _you_ like him!" Amelius
+changed the subject: he asked if she was still in pain. She shook her
+head impatiently. Pain or no pain, the uppermost idea in her mind was
+still that idea of being his servant, which had already found
+expression in words before they left the lodgings. "Will you let me
+keep my beautiful new dress for going out on Sundays?" she asked. "The
+shabby old things will do when I am your servant. I can black your
+boots, and brush your clothes, and keep your room tidy--and I will try
+hard to learn, if you will have me taught to cook." Amelius attempted
+to change the subject again. He might as well have talked to her in an
+unknown tongue. The glorious prospect of being his servant absorbed the
+whole of her attention. "I'm little and I'm stupid," she went on; "but
+I do think I could learn to cook, if I knew I was doing it for _You."_
+She paused, and looked at him anxiously. "Do let me try!" she pleaded;
+"I haven't had much pleasure in my life--and I should like it so!" It
+was impossible to resist this. "You shall be as happy as I can make
+you, Sally," Amelius answered; "God knows it isn't much you ask for!"
+
+Something in those compassionate words set her thinking in another
+direction. It was sad to see how slowly and painfully she realized the
+idea that had been suggested to her.
+
+"I wonder whether you _can_ make me happy?" she said. "I suppose I have
+been happy before this--but I don't know when. I don't remember a time
+when I was not hungry or cold. Wait a bit. I do think I _was_ happy
+once. It was a long while ago, and it took me a weary time to do
+it--but I did learn at last to play a tune on the fiddle. The old man
+and his wife took it in turns to teach me. Somebody gave me to the old
+man and his wife; I don't know who it was, and I don't remember their
+names. They were musicians. In the fine streets they sang hymns, and in
+the poor streets they sang comic songs. It was cold, to be sure,
+standing barefoot on the pavement--but I got plenty of halfpence. The
+people said I was so little it was a shame to send me out, and so I got
+halfpence. I had bread and apples for supper, and a nice little corner
+under the staircase, to sleep in. Do you know, I do think I did enjoy
+myself at that time," she concluded, still a little doubtful whether
+those faint and far-off remembrances were really to be relied on.
+
+Amelius tried to lead her to other recollections. He asked her how old
+she was when she played the fiddle.
+
+"I don't know," she answered; "I don't know how old I am now. I don't
+remember anything before the fiddle. I can't call to mind how long it
+was first--but there came a time when the old man and his wife got into
+trouble. They went to prison, and I never saw them afterwards. I ran
+away with the fiddle; to get the halfpence, you know, all to myself. I
+think I should have got a deal of money, if it hadn't been for the
+boys. They're so cruel, the boys are. They broke my fiddle. I tried
+selling pencils after that; but people didn't seem to want pencils.
+They found me out begging. I got took up, and brought before the
+what-do-you-call-him--the gentleman who sits in a high place, you know,
+behind a desk. Oh, but I was frightened, when they took me before the
+gentleman! He looked very much puzzled. He says, 'Bring her up here;
+she's so small I can hardly see her.' He says, 'Good God! what am I to
+do with this unfortunate child?' There was plenty of people about. One
+of them says, 'The workhouse ought to take her.' And a lady came in,
+and she says, 'I'll take her, sir, if you'll let me.' And he knew her,
+and he let her. She took me to a place they called a Refuge--for
+wandering children, you know. It was very strict at the Refuge. They
+did give us plenty to eat, to be sure, and they taught us lessons. They
+told us about Our Father up in Heaven. I said a wrong thing--I said, 'I
+don't want him up in Heaven; I want him down here.' They were very much
+ashamed of me when I said that. I was a bad girl; I turned ungrateful.
+After a time, I ran away. You see, it was so strict, and I was so used
+to the streets. I met with a Scotchman in the streets. He wore a kilt,
+and played the pipes; he taught me to dance, and dressed me up like a
+Scotch girl. He had a curious wife, a sort of half-black woman. She
+used to dance too--on a bit of carpet, you know, so as not to spoil her
+fine shoes. They taught me songs; he taught me a Scotch song. And one
+day his wife said _she_ was English (I don't know how that was, being a
+half-black woman), and I should learn an English song. And they
+quarrelled about it. And she had her way. She taught me 'Sally in our
+Alley'. That's how I come to be called Sally. I hadn't any name of my
+own--I always had nicknames. Sally was the last of them, and Sally has
+stuck to me. I hope it isn't too common a name to please you? Oh, what
+a fine house! Are we really going in? Will they let _me_ in? How stupid
+I am! I forgot my beautiful clothes. You won't tell them, will you, if
+they take me for a lady?"
+
+The carriage had stopped at the great surgeon's house: the waiting-room
+was full of patients. Some of them were trying to read the books and
+newspapers on the table; and some of them were looking at each other,
+not only without the slightest sympathy, but occasionally even with
+downright distrust and dislike. Amelius took up a newspaper, and gave
+Sally an illustrated book to amuse her, while they waited to see the
+Surgeon in their turn.
+
+Two long hours passed, before the servant summoned Amelius to the
+consulting-room. Sally was wearily asleep in her chair. He left her
+undisturbed, having questions to put relating to the imperfectly
+developed state of her mind, which could not be asked in her presence.
+The surgeon listened, with no ordinary interest, to the young
+stranger's simple and straightforward narrative of what had happened on
+the previous night. "You are very unlike other young men," he said;
+"may I ask how you have been brought up?" The reply surprised him.
+"This opens quite a new view of Socialism," he said. "I thought your
+conduct highly imprudent at first--it seems to be the natural result of
+your teaching now. Let me see what I can do to help you."
+
+He was very grave and very gentle, when Sally was presented to him. His
+opinion of the injury to her bosom relieved the anxiety of Amelius:
+there might be pain for some little time to come, but there were no
+serious consequences to fear. Having written his prescription, and
+having put several questions to Sally, the surgeon sent her back, with
+marked kindness of manner, to wait for Amelius in the patients' room.
+
+"I have young daughters of my own," he said, when the door was closed;
+"and I cannot but feel for that unhappy creature, when I contrast her
+life with theirs. So far as I can see it, the natural growth of her
+senses--her higher and her lower senses alike--has been stunted, like
+the natural growth of her body, by starvation, terror, exposure to
+cold, and other influences inherent in the life that she has led. With
+nourishing food, pure air, and above all kind and careful treatment, I
+see no reason, at her age, why she should not develop into an
+intelligent and healthy young woman. Pardon me if I venture on giving
+you a word of advice. At your time of life, you will do well to place
+her at once under competent and proper care. You may live to regret it,
+if you are too confident in your own good motives in such a case as
+this. Come to me again, if I can be of any use to you. No," he
+continued, refusing to take his fee; "my help to that poor lost girl is
+help given freely." He shook hands with Amelius--a worthy member of the
+noble order to which he belonged.
+
+The surgeon's parting advice, following on the quaint protest of Rufus,
+had its effect on Amelius. He was silent and thoughtful when he got
+into the carriage again.
+
+Simple Sally looked at him with a vague sense of alarm. Her heart beat
+fast, under the perpetually recurring fear that she had done something
+or said something to offend him. "Was it bad behaviour in me," she
+asked, "to fall asleep in the chair?" Reassured, so far, she was still
+as anxious as ever to get at the truth. After long hesitation, and long
+previous thought, she ventured to try another question. "The gentleman
+sent me out of the room--did he say anything to set you against me?"
+
+"The gentleman said everything that was kind of you," Amelius replied,
+"and everything to make me hope that you will live to be a happy girl."
+
+She said nothing to that; vague assurances were no assurances to
+her--she only looked at him with the dumb fidelity of a dog. Suddenly,
+she dropped on her knees in the carriage, hid her face in her hands,
+and cried silently. Surprised and distressed, he attempted to raise her
+and console her. "No!" she said obstinately. "Something has happened to
+vex you, and you won't tell me what it is. Do, do, do tell me what it
+is!"
+
+"My dear child," said Amelius, "I was only thinking anxiously about
+you, in the time to come."
+
+She looked up at him quickly. "What! have you forgotten already?" she
+exclaimed. "I'm to be your servant in the time to come." She dried her
+eyes, and took her place again joyously by his side. "You did frighten
+me," she said, "and all for nothing. But you didn't mean it, did you?"
+
+An older man might have had the courage to undeceive her: Amelius
+shrank from it. He tried to lead her back to the melancholy story--so
+common and so terrible; so pitiable in its utter absence of sentiment
+or romance--the story of her past life.
+
+"No," she answered, with that quick insight where her feelings were
+concerned, which was the only quick insight that she possessed. "I
+don't like making you sorry; and you did look sorry--you did--when I
+talked about it before. The streets, the streets, the streets; little
+girl, or big girl, it's only the streets; and always being hungry or
+cold; and cruel men when it isn't cruel boys. I want to be happy! I
+want to enjoy my new clothes! You tell me about your own self. What
+makes you so kind? I can't make it out; try as I may, I can't make it
+out."
+
+Some time elapsed before they got back to the hotel. Amelius drove as
+far as the City, to give the necessary instructions to his bankers.
+
+On returning to the sitting-room at last, he discovered that his
+American friend was not alone. A gray-haired lady with a bright
+benevolent face was talking earnestly to Rufus. The instant Sally
+discovered the stranger, she started back, fled to the shelter of her
+bedchamber, and locked herself in. Amelius, entering the room after a
+little hesitation, was presented to Mrs. Payson.
+
+"There was something in my old friend's note," said the lady, smiling
+and turning to Rufus, "which suggested to me that I should do well to
+answer it personally. I am not too old yet to follow the impulse of the
+moment, sometimes; and I am very glad that I did so. I have heard what
+is, to me, a very interesting story. Mr. Goldenheart, I respect you!
+And I will prove it by helping you, with all my heart and soul, to save
+that poor little girl who has just run away from me. Pray don't make
+excuses for her; I should have run away too, at her age. We have
+arranged," she continued, looking again at Rufus, "that I shall take
+you both to the Home, this afternoon. If we can prevail on Sally to go
+with us, one serious obstacle in our way will be overcome. Tell me the
+number of her room. I want to try if I can't make friends with her. I
+have had some experience; and I don't despair of bringing her back
+here, hand in hand with the terrible person who has frightened her."
+
+The two men were left together. Amelius attempted to speak.
+
+"Keep it down," said Rufus; "no premature outbreak of opinion, if you
+please, yet awhile. Wait till she has fixed Sally, and shown us the
+Paradise of the poor girls. It's within the London postal district, and
+that's all I know about it. Well, now, and did you go to the doctor?
+Thunder! what's come to the boy? Seems as though he had left his
+complexion in the carriage! He looks, I do declare, as if he wanted
+medical tinkering himself."
+
+Amelius explained that his past night had been a wakeful one, and that
+the events of the day had not allowed him any opportunities of repose.
+"Since the morning," he said, "things have hurried so, one on the top
+of the other, that I am beginning to feel a little dazed and weary."
+Without a word of remark, Rufus produced the remedy. The materials were
+ready on the sideboard--he made a cocktail.
+
+"Another?" asked the New Englander, after a reasonable lapse of time.
+
+Amelius declined taking another. He stretched himself on the sofa; his
+good friend considerately took up a newspaper. For the first time that
+day, he had now the prospect of a quiet interval for rest and thought.
+In less than a minute the delusive prospect vanished. He started to his
+feet again, disturbed by a new anxiety. Having leisure to think, he had
+thought of Regina. "Good heavens!" he exclaimed; "she's waiting to see
+me--and I never remembered it till this moment!" He looked at his
+watch: it was five o'clock. "What am I to do?" he said helplessly.
+
+Rufus laid down the newspaper, and considered the new difficulty in its
+various aspects.
+
+"We are bound to go with Mrs. Payson to the Home," he said; "and, I
+tell you this, Amelius, the matter of Sally is not a matter to be
+played with; it's a thing that's got to be done. In your place I should
+write politely to Miss Regina, and put it off till to-morrow."
+
+In ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, a man who took Rufus for his
+counsellor was a man who acted wisely in every sense of the word.
+Events, however, of which Amelius and his friend were both ignorant
+alike, had so ordered it, that the American's well-meant advice, in
+this one exceptional case, was the very worst advice that could have
+been given. In an hour more, Jervy and Mrs. Sowler were to meet at the
+tavern door. The one last hope of protecting Mrs. Farnaby from the
+abominable conspiracy of which she was the destined victim, rested
+solely on the fulfilment by Amelius of his engagement with Regina for
+that day. Always ready to interfere with the progress of the courtship,
+Mrs. Farnaby would be especially eager to seize the first opportunity
+of speaking to her young Socialist friend on the subject of his
+lecture. In the course of the talk between them, the idea which, in the
+present disturbed state of his mind, had not struck him yet--the idea
+that the outcast of the streets might, by the barest conceivable
+possibility, be identified with the lost daughter--would, in one way or
+another, be almost infallibly suggested to Amelius; and, at the
+eleventh hour, the conspiracy would be foiled. If, on the other hand,
+the American's fatal advice was followed, the next morning's post might
+bring a letter from Jervy to Mrs. Farnaby--with this disastrous result.
+At the first words spoken by Amelius, she would put an end to all
+further interest in the subject on his part, by telling him that the
+lost girl had been found, and found by another person.
+
+Rufus pointed to the writing-materials on a side table, which he had
+himself used earlier in the day. The needful excuse was, unhappily,
+quite easy to find. A misunderstanding with his landlady had obliged
+Amelius to leave his lodgings at an hour's notice, and had occupied him
+in trying to find a new residence for the rest of the day. The note was
+written. Rufus, who was nearest to the bell, stretched out his hand to
+ring for the messenger. Amelius suddenly stopped him.
+
+"She doesn't like me to disappoint her," he said. "I needn't stay
+long--I might get there and back in half an hour, in a fast cab."
+
+His conscience was not quite easy. The sense of having forgotten
+Regina--no matter how naturally and excusably--oppressed him with a
+feeling of self-reproach. Rufus raised no objection; the hesitation of
+Amelius was unquestionably creditable to him. "If you must do it, my
+son," he said, "do it right away--and we'll wait for you."
+
+Amelius took up his hat. The door opened as he approached it, and Mrs.
+Payson entered the room, leading Simple Sally by the hand.
+
+"We are all going together," said the genial old lady, "to see my large
+family of daughters at the Home. We can have our talk in the carriage.
+It's an hour's drive from this place--and I must be back again to
+dinner at half-past seven."
+
+Amelius and Rufus looked at each other. Amelius thought of pleading an
+engagement, and asking to be excused. Under the circumstances, it was
+assuredly not a very gracious thing to do. Before he could make up his
+mind, one way or the other, Sally stole to his side, and put her hand
+on his arm. Mrs. Payson had done wonders in conquering the girl's
+inveterate distrust of strangers, and, to a certain extent at least,
+winning her confidence. But no early influence could shake Sally's
+dog-like devotion to Amelius. Her jealous instinct discovered something
+suspicious in his sudden silence. "You must go with us," she said, "I
+won't go without you."
+
+"Certainly not," Mrs. Payson added; "I promised her that, of course,
+beforehand."
+
+Rufus rang the bell, and despatched the messenger to Regina. "That's
+the one way out of it, my son," he whispered to Amelius, as they
+followed Mrs. Payson and Sally down the stairs of the hotel.
+
+
+They had just driven up to the gates of the Home, when Jervy and his
+accomplice met at the tavern, and entered on their consultation in a
+private room.
+
+In spite of her poverty-stricken appearance, Mrs. Sowler was not
+absolutely destitute. In various underhand and wicked ways, she
+contrived to put a few shillings in her pocket from week to week. If
+she was half starved, it was for the very ordinary reason, among
+persons of her vicious class, that she preferred spending her money on
+drink. Stating his business with her, as reservedly and as cunningly as
+usual, Jervy found, to his astonishment, that even this squalid old
+creature presumed to bargain with him. The two wretches were on the
+point of a quarrel which might have delayed the execution of the plot
+against Mrs. Farnaby, but for the vile self-control which made Jervy
+one of the most formidable criminals living. He gave way on the
+question of money--and, from that moment, he had Mrs. Sowler absolutely
+at his disposal.
+
+"Meet me to-morrow morning, to receive your instructions," he said.
+"The time is ten sharp; and the place is the powder-magazine in Hyde
+Park. And mind this! You must be decently dressed--you know where to
+hire the things. If I smell you of spirits to-morrow morning, I shall
+employ somebody else. No; not a farthing now. You will have your
+money--first instalment only, mind!--to-morrow at ten."
+
+Left by himself, Jervy sent for pen, ink, and paper. Using his left
+hand, which was just as serviceable to him as his right, he traced
+these lines:--
+
+"You are informed, by an unknown friend, that a certain lost young lady
+is now living in a foreign country, and may be restored to her
+afflicted mother on receipt of a sufficient sum to pay expenses, and to
+reward the writer of this letter, who is undeservedly, in distressed
+circumstances.
+
+"Are you, madam, the mother? I ask the question in the strictest
+confidence, knowing nothing certainly but that your husband was the
+person who put the young lady out to nurse in her infancy.
+
+"I don't address your husband, because his inhuman desertion of the
+poor baby does not incline me to trust him. I run the risk of trusting
+you--to a certain extent--at starting. Shall I drop a hint which may
+help you to identify the child, in your own mind? It would be
+inexcusably foolish on my part to speak too plainly, just yet. The hint
+must be a vague one. Suppose I use a poetical expression, and say that
+the young lady is enveloped in mystery from head to foot--especially
+the foot?
+
+"In the event of my addressing the right person, I beg to offer a
+suggestion for a preliminary interview.
+
+"If you will take a walk on the bridge over the Serpentine River, on
+Kensington Gardens side, at half-past ten o'clock to-morrow morning,
+holding a white handkerchief in your left hand, you will meet the
+much-injured woman, who was deceived into taking charge of the infant
+child at Ramsgate, and will be satisfied so far that you are giving
+your confidence to persons who really deserve it."
+
+Jervy addressed this infamous letter to Mrs. Farnaby, in an ordinary
+envelope, marked "Private." He posted it, that night, with his own
+hand.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 4
+
+"Rufus! I don't quite like the way you look at me. You seem to think--"
+
+"Give it tongue, my son. What do I seem to think?"
+
+"You think I'm forgetting Regina. You don't believe I'm just as fond of
+her as ever. The fact is, you're an old bachelor."
+
+"That is so. Where's the harm, Amelius?"
+
+"I don't understand--"
+
+"You're out there, my bright boy. I reckon I understand more than you
+think for. The wisest thing you ever did in your life is what you did
+this evening, when you committed Sally to the care of those ladies at
+the Home."
+
+"Good night, Rufus. We shall quarrel if I stay here any longer."
+
+"Good night, Amelius. We shan't quarrel, stay here as long as you
+like."
+
+The good deed had been done; the sacrifice--already a painful
+sacrifice--had been made. Mrs. Payson was old enough to speak plainly,
+as well as seriously, to Amelius of the absolute necessity of
+separating himself from Simple Sally, without any needless delay. "You
+have seen for yourself," she said, "that the plan on which this little
+household is ruled is the unvarying plan of patience and kindness. So
+far as Sally is concerned, you can be quite sure that she will never
+hear a harsh word, never meet with a hard look, while she is under our
+care. The lamentable neglect under which the poor creature has
+suffered, will be tenderly remembered and atoned for, here. If we can't
+make her happy among us, I promise that she shall leave the Home, if
+she wishes it, in six weeks' time. As to yourself, consider your
+position if you persist in taking her back with you. Our good friend
+Rufus has told me that you are engaged to be married. Think of the
+misinterpretations, to say the least of it, to which you would subject
+yourself--think of the reports which would sooner or later find their
+way to the young lady's ears, and of the deplorable consequences that
+would follow. I believe implicitly in the purity of your motives. But
+remember Who taught us to pray that we may not be led into
+temptation--and complete the good work that you have begun, by leaving
+Sally among friends and sisters in this house."
+
+To any honourable man, these were unanswerable words. Coming after what
+Rufus and the surgeon had already said to him, they left Amelius no
+alternative but to yield. He pleaded for leave to write to Sally, and
+to see her, at a later interval, when she might be reconciled to her
+new life. Mrs. Payson had just consented to both requests, Rufus had
+just heartily congratulated him on his decision--when the door was
+thrown violently open. Simple Sally ran into the room, followed by one
+of the women-attendants in a state of breathless surprise.
+
+"She showed me a bedroom," cried Sally, pointing indignantly to the
+woman; "and she asked if I should like to sleep there." She turned to
+Amelius, and caught him by the hand to lead him away. The ineradicable
+instinct of distrust had been once more roused in her by the too
+zealous attendant. "I'm not going to stay here," she said; "I'm going
+away with You!"
+
+Amelius glanced at Mrs. Payson. Sally tried to drag him to the door. He
+did his best to reassure her by a smile; he spoke confusedly some
+composing words. But his honest face, always accustomed to tell the
+truth, told the truth now. The poor lost creature, whose feeble
+intelligence was so slow to discern, so inapt to reflect, looked at him
+with the heart's instantaneous perception, and saw her doom. She let go
+of his hand. Her head sank. Without word or cry, she dropped on the
+floor at his feet.
+
+The attendant instantly raised her, and placed her on a sofa. Mrs.
+Payson saw how resolutely Amelius struggled to control himself, and
+felt for him with all her heart. Turning aside for a moment, she
+hastily wrote a few lines, and returned to him. "Go, before we revive
+her," she whispered; "and give what I have written to the coachman. You
+shall suffer no anxiety that I can spare you," said the excellent
+woman; "I will stay here myself to-night, and reconcile her to the new
+life."
+
+She held out her hand; Amelius kissed it in silence. Rufus led him out.
+Not a word dropped from his lips on the long drive back to London.
+
+His mind was disturbed by other subjects besides the subject of Sally.
+He thought of his future, darkened by the doubtful marriage-engagement
+that was before him. Alone with Rufus, for the rest of the evening, he
+petulantly misunderstood the sympathy with which the kindly American
+regarded him. Their bedrooms were next to each other. Rufus heard him
+walking restlessly to and fro, and now and then talking to himself.
+After a while, these sounds ceased. He was evidently worn out, and was
+getting the rest that he needed, at last.
+
+The next morning he received a few lines from Mrs. Payson, giving a
+favourable account of Sally, and promising further particulars in a day
+or two.
+
+Encouraged by this good news, revived by a long night's sleep, he went
+towards noon to pay his postponed visit to Regina. At that early hour,
+he could feel sure that his interview with her would not be interrupted
+by visitors. She received him quietly and seriously, pressing his hand
+with a warmer fondness than usual. He had anticipated some complaint of
+his absence on the previous day, and some severe allusion to his
+appearance in the capacity of a Socialist lecturer. Regina's
+indulgence, or Regina's interest in circumstances of more pressing
+importance, preserved a merciful silence on both subjects.
+
+"It is a comfort to me to see you, Amelius," she said; "I am in trouble
+about my uncle, and I am weary of my own anxious thoughts. Something
+unpleasant has happened in Mr. Farnaby's business. He goes to the City
+earlier, and he returns much later, than usual. When he does come back,
+he doesn't speak to me--he locks himself into his room; and he looks
+worn and haggard when I make his breakfast for him in the morning. You
+know that he is one of the directors of the new bank? There was
+something about the bank in the newspaper yesterday which upset him
+dreadfully; he put down his cup of coffee--and went away to the City,
+without eating his breakfast. I don't like to worry you about it,
+Amelius. But my aunt seems to take no interest in her husband's
+affairs--and it is really a relief to me to talk of my troubles to you.
+I have kept the newspaper; do look at what it says about the bank, and
+tell me if you understand it!"
+
+Amelius read the passage pointed out to him. He knew as little of
+banking business as Regina. "So far as I can make it out," he said,
+"they're paying away money to their shareholders which they haven't
+earned. How do they do that, I wonder?"
+
+Regina changed the subject in despair. She asked Amelius if he had
+found new lodgings. Hearing that he had not yet succeeded in the search
+for a residence, she opened a drawer of her work-table, and took out a
+card.
+
+"The brother of one of my schoolfellows is going to be married," she
+said. "He has a pretty bachelor cottage in the neighbourhood of the
+Regent's Park--and he wants to sell it, with the furniture, just as it
+is. I don't know whether you care to encumber yourself with a little
+house of your own. His sister has asked me to distribute some of his
+cards, with the address and the particulars. It might be worth your
+while, perhaps, to look at the cottage when you pass that way."
+
+Amelius took the card. The small feminine restraints and gentlenesses
+of Regina, her quiet even voice, her serene grace of movement, had a
+pleasantly soothing effect on his mind after the anxieties of the last
+four and twenty hours. He looked at her bending over her embroidery,
+deftly and gracefully industrious--and drew his chair closer to her.
+She smiled softly over her work, conscious that he was admiring her,
+and placidly pleased to receive the tribute.
+
+"I would buy the cottage at once," said Amelius, "if I thought you
+would come and live in it with me."
+
+She looked up gravely, with her needle suspended in her hand.
+
+"Don't let us return to that," she answered, and went on again with her
+embroidery.
+
+"Why not?" Amelius asked.
+
+She persisted in working, as industriously as if she had been a poor
+needlewoman, with serious reasons for being eager to get her money. "It
+is useless," she replied, "to speak of what cannot be for some time to
+come."
+
+Amelius stopped the progress of the embroidery by taking her hand. Her
+devotion to her work irritated him.
+
+"Look at me, Regina," he said, steadily controlling himself. "I want to
+propose that we shall give way a little on both sides. I won't hurry
+you; I will wait a reasonable time. If I promise that, surely you may
+yield a little in return. Money seems to be a hard taskmaster, my
+darling, after what you have told me about your uncle. See how he
+suffers because he is bent on being rich; and ask yourself if it isn't
+a warning to us not to follow his example! Would you like to see _me_
+too wretched to speak to you, or to eat my breakfast--and all for the
+sake of a little outward show? Come, come! let us think of ourselves.
+Why should we waste the best days of our life apart, when we are both
+free to be happy together? I have another good friend besides
+Rufus--the good friend of my father before me. He knows all sorts of
+great people, and he will help me to some employment. In six months'
+time I might have a little salary to add to my income. Say the sweetest
+words, my darling, that ever fell from your lips--say you will marry me
+in six months!"
+
+It was not in a woman's nature to be insensible to such pleading as
+this. She all but yielded. "I should like to say it, dear!" she
+answered, with a little fluttering sigh.
+
+"Say it, then!" Amelius suggested tenderly.
+
+She took refuge again in her embroidery. "If you would only give me a
+little time," she suggested, "I might say it."
+
+"Time for what, my own love?"
+
+"Time to wait, dear, till my uncle is not quite so anxious as he is
+now."
+
+"Don't talk of your uncle, Regina! You know as well as I do what he
+would say. Good heavens! why can't you decide for yourself? No! I don't
+want to hear over again about what you owe to Mr. Farnaby--I heard
+enough of it on that day in the shrubbery. Oh, my dear girl, do have
+some feeling for me! do for once have a will of your own!"
+
+Those last words were an offence to her self-esteem. "I think it's very
+rude to tell me I have no will of my own," she said, "and very hard to
+press in this way when you know I am in trouble." The inevitable
+handkerchief appeared, adding emphasis to the protest--and the becoming
+tears showed themselves modestly in Regina's magnificent eyes.
+
+Amelius started out of his chair, and walked away to the window. That
+last reference to Mr. Farnaby's pecuniary cares was more than he had
+patience to endure. "She can't even forget her uncle and his bank," he
+thought, "when I am speaking to her of our marriage!"
+
+He kept his face hidden from her, at the window. By some subtle process
+of association which he was unable to trace, the image of Simple Sally
+rose in his mind. An irresistible influence forced him to think of
+her--not as the poor, starved, degraded, half-witted creature of the
+streets, but as the grateful girl who had asked for no happier future
+than to be his servant, who had dropped senseless at his feet at the
+bare prospect of parting with him. His sense of self-respect, his
+loyalty to his betrothed wife, resolutely resisted the unworthy
+conclusion to which his own thoughts were leading him. He turned back
+again to Regina; he spoke so loudly and so vehemently that the
+gathering flow of her tears was suspended in surprise. "You're right,
+you're quite right, my dear! I ought to give you time, of course. I try
+to control my hasty temper, but I don't always succeed--just at first.
+Pray forgive me; it shall be exactly as you wish."
+
+Regina forgave him, with a gentle and ladylike astonishment at the
+excitable manner in which he made his excuses. She even neglected her
+embroidery, and put her face up to him to be kissed. "You are so nice,
+dear," she said, "when you are not violent and unreasonable. It is such
+a pity you were brought up in America. Won't you stay to lunch?"
+
+Happily for Amelius, the footman appeared at this critical moment with
+a message: "My mistress wishes particularly to see you, sir, before you
+go."
+
+This was the first occasion, in the experience of the lovers, on which
+Mrs. Farnaby had expressed her wishes through the medium of a servant,
+instead of appearing personally. The curiosity of Regina was mildly
+excited. "What a very odd message!" she said; "what does it mean? My
+aunt went out earlier than usual this morning, and I have not seen her
+since. I wonder whether she is going to consult you about my uncle's
+affairs?"
+
+"I'll go and see," said Amelius.
+
+"And stay to lunch?" Regina reiterated.
+
+"Not to-day, my dear."
+
+"To-morrow, then?"
+
+"Yes, to-morrow." So he escaped. As he opened the door, he looked back,
+and kissed his hand. Regina raised her head for a moment, and smiled
+charmingly. She was hard at work again over her embroidery.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 5
+
+The door of Mrs. Farnaby's ground-floor room, at the back of the house,
+was partially open. She was on the watch for Amelius.
+
+"Come in!" she cried, the moment he appeared in the hall. She pulled
+him into the room, and shut the door with a bang. Her face was flushed,
+her eyes were wild. "I have something to tell you, you dear good
+fellow," she burst out excitedly--"Something in confidence, between you
+and me!" She paused, and looked at him with sudden anxiety and alarm.
+"What's the matter with you?" she asked.
+
+The sight of the room, the reference to a secret, the prospect of
+another private conference, forced back the mind of Amelius, in one
+breathless instant, to his first memorable interview with Mrs. Farnaby.
+The mother's piteously hopeful words, in speaking of her lost daughter,
+rang in his ears again as if they had just fallen from her lips. "She
+may be lost in the labyrinth of London. . . . To-morrow, or ten years
+hence, you _might_ meet with her." There were a hundred chances against
+it--a thousand, ten thousand chances against it. The startling
+possibility flashed across his brain, nevertheless, like a sudden flow
+of daylight across the dark. _"Have_ I met with her, at the first
+chance?"
+
+"Wait," he cried; "I have something to say before you speak to me. Don't
+deceive yourself with vain hopes. Promise me that, before I begin."
+
+She waved her hand derisively. "Hopes?" she repeated; "I have done with
+hopes, I have done with fears--I have got to certainties, at last!"
+
+He was too eager to heed anything that she said to him; his whole soul
+was absorbed in the coming disclosure. "Two nights since," he went on,
+"I was wandering about London, and I met--"
+
+She burst out laughing. "Go on!" she cried, with a wild derisive
+gaiety.
+
+Amelius stopped, perplexed and startled. "What are you laughing at?" he
+asked.
+
+"Go on!" she repeated. "I defy you to surprise me. Out with it! Whom
+did you meet?"
+
+Amelius proceeded doubtfully, by a word at a time. "I met a poor girl
+in the streets," he said, steadily watching her.
+
+She changed completely at those words; she looked at him with an aspect
+of stern reproach. "No more of it," she interposed; "I have not waited
+all these miserable years for such a horrible end as that." Her face
+suddenly brightened; a radiant effusion of tenderness and triumph
+flowed over it, and made it young and happy again. "Amelius!" she said,
+"listen to this. My dream has come true--my girl is found! Thanks to
+you, though you don't know it."
+
+Amelius looked at her. Was she speaking of something that had really
+happened? or had she been dreaming again?
+
+Absorbed in her own happiness, she made no remark on his silence. "I
+have seen the woman," she went on. "This bright blessed morning I have
+seen the woman who took her away in the first days of her poor little
+life. The wretch swears she was not to blame. I tried to forgive her.
+Perhaps I almost did forgive her, in the joy of hearing what she had to
+tell me. I should never have heard it, Amelius, if you had not given
+that glorious lecture. The woman was one of your audience. She would
+never have spoken of those past days; she would never have thought of
+me--"
+
+At those words, Mrs. Farnaby abruptly stopped, and turned her face away
+from Amelius. After waiting a little, finding her still silent, still
+immovable, he ventured on putting a question.
+
+"Are you sure you are not deceived?" he asked. "I remember you told me
+that rogues had tried to impose on you, in past times when you employed
+people to find her."
+
+"I have proof that I am not being imposed upon," Mrs. Farnaby answered,
+still keeping her face hidden from him. "One of them knows of the fault
+in her foot."
+
+"One of them?" Amelius repeated. "How many of them are there?"
+
+"Two. The old woman, and a young man."
+
+"What are their names?"
+
+"They won't tell me their names yet."
+
+"Isn't that a little suspicious?"
+
+"One of them knows," Mrs. Farnaby reiterated, "of the fault in her
+foot."
+
+"May I ask which of them knows? The old woman, I suppose?"
+
+"No, the young man."
+
+"That's strange, isn't it? Have you seen the young man?"
+
+"I know nothing of him, except the little that the woman told me. He
+has written me a letter."
+
+"May I look at it?"
+
+"I daren't let you look at it!"
+
+Amelius said no more. If he had felt the smallest suspicion that the
+disclosure volunteered by Mrs. Farnaby, at their first interview, had
+been overheard by the unknown person who had opened the swinging window
+in the kitchen, he might have recalled Phoebe's vindictive language at
+his lodgings, and the doubts suggested to him by his discovery of the
+vagabond waiting for her in the street. As it was, he was simply
+puzzled. The one plain conclusion to his mind was, unhappily, the
+natural conclusion after what he had heard--that Mrs. Farnaby had no
+sort of interest in the discovery of Simple Sally, and that he need
+trouble himself with no further anxiety in that matter. Strange as Mrs.
+Farnaby's mysterious revelation seemed, her correspondent's knowledge
+of the fault in the foot was circumstance in his favour, beyond
+dispute. Amelius still wondered inwardly how it was that the woman who
+had taken charge of the child had failed to discover what appeared to
+be known to another person. If he had been aware that Mrs. Sowler's
+occupation at the time was the occupation of a "baby-farmer," and that
+she had many other deserted children pining under her charge, he might
+have easily understood that she was the last person in the world to
+trouble herself with a minute examination of any one of the unfortunate
+little creatures abandoned to her drunken and merciless neglect. Jervy
+had satisfied himself, before he trusted her with his instructions,
+that she knew no more than the veriest stranger of any peculiarity in
+one or the other of the child's feet.
+
+Interpreting Mrs. Farnaby's last reply to him as an intimation that
+their interview was at an end, Amelius took up his hat to go.
+
+"I hope with all my heart," he said, "that what has begun so well will
+end well. If there is any service that I can do for you--"
+
+She drew nearer to him, and put her hand gently on his shoulder. "Don't
+think that I distrust you," she said very earnestly; "I am unwilling to
+shock you--that is all. Even this great joy has a dark side to it; my
+miserable married life casts its shadow on everything that happens to
+me. Keep secret from everybody the little that I have told you--you
+will ruin me if you say one word of it to any living creature. I ought
+not to have opened my heart to you--but how could I help it, when the
+happiness that is coming to me has come through you? When you say
+good-bye to me to-day, Amelius, you say good-bye to me for the last
+time in this house. I am going away. Don't ask me why--that is one more
+among the things which I daren't tell you! You shall hear from me, or
+see me--I promise that. Give me some safe address to write to; some
+place where there are no inquisitive women who may open my letter in
+your absence."
+
+She handed him her pocket-book. Amelius wrote down in it the address of
+his club.
+
+She took his hand. "Think of me kindly," she said. "And, once more,
+don't be afraid of my being deceived. There is a hard part of me still
+left which keeps me on my guard. The old woman tried, this morning, to
+make me talk to her about that little fault we know of in my child's
+foot. But I thought to myself, 'If you had taken a proper interest in
+my poor baby while she was with you, you must sooner or later have
+found it out.' Not a word passed my lips. No, no, don't be anxious when
+you think of me. I am as sharp as they are; I mean to find out how the
+man who wrote to me discovered what he knows; he shall satisfy me, I
+promise you, when I see him or hear from him next. All this is between
+ourselves strictly, sacredly between ourselves. Say nothing--I know I
+can trust you. Good-bye, and forgive me for having been so often in
+your way with Regina. I shall never be in your way again. Marry her, if
+you think she is good enough for you; I have no more interest now in
+your being a roving bachelor, meeting with girls here, there, and
+everywhere. You shall know how it goes on. Oh, I am so happy!"
+
+She burst into tears, and signed to Amelius with a wild gesture of
+treaty to leave her.
+
+He pressed her hand in silence, and went out.
+
+Almost as the door closed on him, the variable woman changed again. For
+a while she walked rapidly to and fro, talking to herself. The course
+of her tears ceased. Her lips closed firmly; her eyes assumed an
+expression of savage resolve. She sat down at the table and opened her
+desk. "I'll read it once more," she said to herself, "before I seal it
+up."
+
+She took from her desk a letter of her own writing, and spread it out
+before her. With her elbows on the table, and her hands clasped
+fiercely in her hair, she read these lines addressed to her husband:--
+
+
+JOHN FARNABY,--I have always suspected that you had something to do
+with the disappearance of our child. I know for certain now that you
+deliberately cast your infant daughter on the mercy of the world, and
+condemned your wife to a life of wretchedness.
+
+"Don't suppose that I have been deceived! I have spoken with the woman
+who waited by the garden-paling at Ramsgate, and who took the child
+from your hands. She saw you with me at the lecture; and she is
+absolutely sure that you are the man.
+
+"Thanks to the meeting at the lecture-hall, I am at last on the trace
+of my lost daughter. This morning I heard the woman's story. She kept
+the child, on the chance of its being reclaimed, until she could afford
+to keep it no longer. She met with a person who was willing to adopt
+it, and who took it away with her to a foreign country, not mentioned
+to me yet. In that country my daughter is still living, and will be
+restored to me on conditions which will be communicated in a few days'
+time.
+
+"Some of this story may be true, and some of it may be false; the woman
+may be lying to serve her own interests with me. Of one thing I am
+sure--my girl is identified, by means known to me of which there can be
+no doubt. And she must be still living, because the interest of the
+persons treating with me is an interest in her life.
+
+"When you receive this letter, on your return from business to-night, I
+shall have left you, and left you for ever. The bare thought of even
+looking at you again fills me with horror. I have my own income, and I
+mean to take my own way. In your best interests I warn you, make no
+attempt to trace me. I declare solemnly that, rather than let your
+deserted daughter be polluted by the sight of you, I would kill you
+with my own hand, and die for it on the scaffold. If she ever asks for
+her father, I will do you one service. For the honour of human nature,
+I will tell her that her father is dead. It will not be all a
+falsehood. I repudiate you and your name--you are dead to me from this
+time forth.
+
+"I sign myself by my father's name--
+
+"EMMA RONALD."
+
+
+She had said herself that she was unwilling to shock Amelius. This was
+the reason.
+
+After thinking a little, she sealed and directed the letter. This done,
+she unlocked the wooden press which had once contained the baby's frock
+and cap, and those other memorials of the past which she called her
+"dead consolations." After satisfying herself that the press was empty,
+she wrote on a card, "To be called for by a messenger from my
+bankers"--and tied the card to a tin box in a corner, secured by a
+padlock. She lifted the box, and placed it in front of the press, so
+that it might be easily visible to any one entering the room. The safe
+keeping of her treasures provided for, she took the sealed letter, and,
+ascending the stairs, placed it on the table in her husband's
+dressing-room. She hurried out again, the instant after, as if the
+sight of the place were intolerable to her.
+
+Passing to the other end of the corridor, she entered her own
+bedchamber, and put on her bonnet and cloak. A leather handbag was on
+the bed. She took it up, and looked round the large luxurious room with
+a shudder of disgust. What she had suffered, within those four walls,
+no human creature knew but herself. She hurried out, as she had hurried
+out of her husband's dressing-room.
+
+Her niece was still in the drawing-room. As she reached the door, she
+hesitated, and stopped. The girl was a good girl, in her own dull
+placid way--and her sister's daughter, too. A last little act of
+kindness would perhaps be a welcome act to remember. She opened the
+door so suddenly that Regina started, with a small cry of alarm. "Oh,
+aunt, how you frighten one! Are you going out?" "Yes; I'm going out,"
+was the short answer. "Come here. Give me a kiss." Regina looked up in
+wide-eyed astonishment. Mrs. Farnaby stamped impatiently on the floor.
+Regina rose, gracefully bewildered. "My dear aunt, how very odd!" she
+said--and gave the kiss demanded, with a serenely surprised elevation
+of her finely shaped eyebrows. "Yes," said Mrs. Farnaby; "that's
+it--one of my oddities. Go back to your work. Good-bye."
+
+She left the room, as abruptly as she had entered it. With her firm
+heavy step she descended to the hall, passed out at the house door, and
+closed it behind her--never to return to it again.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 6
+
+Amelius left Mrs. Farnaby, troubled by emotions of confusion and alarm,
+which he was the last man living to endure patiently. Her extraordinary
+story of the discovered daughter, the still more startling assertion of
+her solution to leave the house, the absence of any plain explanation,
+the burden of secrecy imposed on him--all combined together to irritate
+his sensitive nerves. "I hate mysteries," he thought; "and ever since I
+landed in England, I seem fated to be mixed up in them. Does she really
+mean to leave her husband and her niece? What will Farnaby do? What
+will become of Regina?"
+
+To think of Regina was to think of the new repulse of which he had been
+made the subject. Again he had appealed to her love for him, and again
+she had refused to marry him at his own time.
+
+He was especially perplexed and angry, when he reflected on the
+unassailably strong influence which her uncle appeared to have over
+her. All Regina's sympathy was with Mr. Farnaby and his troubles.
+Amelius might have understood her a little better, if she had told him
+what had passed between her uncle and herself on the night of Mr.
+Farnaby's return, in a state of indignation, from the lecture. In
+terror of the engagement being broken off, she had been forced to
+confess that she was too fond of Amelius to prevail on herself to part
+with him. If he attempted a second exposition of his Socialist
+principles on the platform, she owned that it might be impossible to
+receive him again as a suitor. But she pleaded hard for the granting of
+a pardon to the first offence, in the interests of her own
+tranquillity, if not in mercy to Amelius. Mr. Farnaby, already troubled
+by his commercial anxieties, had listened more amiably, and also more
+absently, than usual; and had granted her petition with the ready
+indulgence of a preoccupied man. It had been decided between them that
+the offence of the lecture should be passed over in discreet silence.
+Regina's gratitude for this concession inspired her sympathy with her
+uncle in his present state of suspense. She had been sorely tempted to
+tell Amelius what had happened. But the natural reserve of her
+character--fortified, in this instance, by the defensive pride which
+makes a woman unwilling, before marriage, to confess her weakness
+unreservedly to the man who has caused it--had sealed her lips. "When
+he is a little less violent and a little more humble," she thought,
+"perhaps I may tell him."
+
+So it fell out that Amelius took his way through the streets, a
+mystified and an angry man.
+
+Arrived in sight of the hotel, he stopped, and looked about him.
+
+It was impossible to disguise from himself that a lurking sense of
+regret was making itself felt, in his present frame of mind, when he
+thought of Simple Sally. In all probability, he would have quarrelled
+with any man who had accused him of actually lamenting the girl's
+absence, and wanting her back again. He happened to recollect her
+artless blue eyes, with their vague patient look, and her quaint
+childish questions put so openly in so sweet a voice--and that was all.
+Was there anything reprehensible, if you please, in an act of
+remembrance? Comforting himself with these considerations, he moved on
+again a step or two--and stopped once more. In his present humour, he
+shrank from facing Rufus. The American read him like a book; the
+American would ask irritating questions. He turned his back on the
+hotel, and looked at his watch. As he took it out, his finger and thumb
+touched something else in his waistcoat-pocket. It was the card that
+Regina had given to him--the card of the cottage to let. He had nothing
+to do, and nowhere to go. Why not look at the cottage? If it proved to
+be not worth seeing, the Zoological Gardens were in the
+neighbourhood--and there are periods in a man's life when he finds the
+society that walks on four feet a welcome relief from the society that
+walks on two.
+
+It was a fairly fine day. He turned northward towards the Regent's
+Park.
+
+The cottage was in a by-road, just outside the park: a cottage in the
+strictest sense of the word. A sitting-room, a library, and a
+bedroom--all of small proportions--and, under them a kitchen and two
+more rooms, represented the whole of the little dwelling from top to
+bottom. It was simply and prettily furnished; and it was completely
+surrounded by its own tiny plot of garden-ground. The library
+especially was a perfect little retreat, looking out on the back
+garden; peaceful and shady, and adorned with bookcases of old carved
+oak.
+
+Amelius had hardly looked round the room, before his inflammable brain
+was on fire with a new idea. Other idle men in trouble had found the
+solace and the occupation of their lives in books. Why should he not be
+one of them? Why not plunge into study in this delightful
+retirement--and perhaps, one day, astonish Regina and Mr. Farnaby by
+bursting on the world as the writer of a famous book? Exactly as
+Amelius, two days since, had seen himself in the future, a public
+lecturer in receipt of glorious fees--so he now saw himself the
+celebrated scholar and writer of a new era to come. The woman who
+showed the cottage happened to mention that a gentleman had already
+looked over it that morning, and had seemed to like it. Amelius
+instantly gave her a shilling, and said, "I take it on the spot." The
+wondering woman referred him to the house-agent's address, and kept at
+a safe distance from the excitable stranger as she let him out. In less
+than another hour, Amelius had taken the cottage, and had returned to
+the hotel with a new interest in life and a new surprise for Rufus.
+
+As usual, in cases of emergency, the American wasted no time in
+talking. He went out at once to see the cottage, and to make his own
+inquiries of the agent. The result amply proved that Amelius had not
+been imposed upon. If he repented of his bargain, the gentleman who had
+first seen the cottage was ready to take it off his hands, at a
+moment's notice.
+
+Going back to the Hotel, Rufus found Amelius resolute to move into his
+new abode, and eager for the coming life of study and retirement.
+Knowing perfectly well before-hand how this latter project would end,
+the American tried the efficacy of a little worldly temptation. He had
+arranged, he said, "to have a good time of it in Paris"; and he
+proposed that Amelius should be his companion. The suggestion produced
+not the slightest effect; Amelius talked as if he was a confirmed
+recluse, in the decline of life. "Thank you," he said, with the most
+amazing gravity; "I prefer the company of my books, and the seclusion
+of my study." This declaration was followed by more selling-out of
+money in the Funds, and by a visit to a bookseller, which left a
+handsome pecuniary result inscribed on the right side of the ledger.
+
+On the next day, Amelius presented himself towards two o'clock at Mr.
+Farnaby's house. He was not so selfishly absorbed in his own projects
+as to forget Mrs. Farnaby. On the contrary, he was honestly anxious for
+news of her.
+
+A certain middle-aged man of business has been briefly referred to, in
+these pages, as one of Regina's faithful admirers, patiently submitting
+to the triumph of his favoured young rival. This gentleman, issuing
+from his carriage with his card-case ready in his hand, met Amelius at
+the door, with a face which announced plainly that a catastrophe had
+happened. "You have heard the sad news, no doubt?" he said, in a rich
+bass voice attuned to sadly courteous tones. The servant opened the
+door before Amelius could answer. After a contest of politeness, the
+middle-aged gentleman consented to make his inquiries first. "How is
+Mr. Farnaby? No better? And Miss Regina? Very poorly, oh? Dear, dear
+me! Say I called, if you please." He handed in two cards, with a severe
+enjoyment of the melancholy occasion and the rich bass sounds of his
+own voice. "Very sad, is it not?" he said, addressing his youthful
+rival with an air of paternal indulgence. "Good morning." He bowed with
+melancholy grace, and got into his carriage.
+
+Amelius looked after the prosperous merchant, as the prancing horses
+drew him away. "After all," he thought bitterly, "she might be happier
+with that rich prig than she could be with me." He stepped into the
+hall, and spoke to the servant. The man had his message ready. Miss
+Regina would see Mr. Goldenheart, if he would be so good as to wait in
+the dinning-room.
+
+Regina appeared, pale and scared; her eyes inflamed with weeping. "Oh,
+Amelius, can you tell me what this dreadful misfortune means? Why has
+she left us? When she sent for you yesterday, what did she say?"
+
+In his position, Amelius could make but one answer. "Your aunt said she
+thought of going away. But," he added, with perfect truth, "she refused
+to tell me why, or where she was going. I am quite as much at a loss to
+understand her as you are. What does your uncle propose to do?"
+
+Mr. Farnaby's conduct, as described by Regina, thickened the
+mystery--he proposed to do nothing.
+
+He had been found on the hearth-rug in his dressing-room; having
+apparently been seized with a fit, in the act of burning some paper.
+The ashes were discovered close by him, just inside the fender. On his
+recovery, his first anxiety was to know if a letter had been burnt.
+Satisfied on this point, he had ordered the servants to assemble round
+his bed, and had peremptorily forbidden them to open the door to their
+mistress, if she ever returned at any future time to the house.
+Regina's questions and remonstrances, when she was left alone with him,
+were answered, once for all, in these pitiless terms:--"If you wish to
+deserve the fatherly interest that I take in you, do as I do: forget
+that such a person as your aunt ever existed. We shall quarrel, if you
+ever mention her name in my hearing again." This said, he had instantly
+changed the subject; instructing Regina to write an excuse to "Mr.
+Melton" (otherwise, the middle-aged rival), with whom he had been
+engaged to dine that evening. Relating this latter event, Regina's
+ever-ready gratitude overflowed in the direction of Mr. Melton. "He was
+so kind! he left his guests in the evening, and came and sat with my
+uncle for nearly an hour." Amelius made no remark on this; he led the
+conversation back to the subject of Mrs. Farnaby. "She once spoke to me
+of her lawyers," he said. "Do _they_ know nothing about her?"
+
+The answer to this question showed that the sternly final decision of
+Mr. Farnaby was matched by equal resolution on the part of his wife.
+
+One of the partners in the legal firm had called that morning, to see
+Regina on a matter of business. Mrs. Farnaby had appeared at the office
+on the previous day, and had briefly expressed her wish to make a small
+annual provision for her niece, in case of future need. Declining to
+enter into any explanation, she had waited until the necessary document
+had been drawn out; had requested that Regina might be informed of the
+circumstance; and had then taken her departure in absolute silence.
+Hearing that she had left her husband, the lawyer, like every one else,
+was completely at a loss to understand what it meant.
+
+"And what does the doctor say?" Amelius asked next.
+
+"My uncle is to be kept perfectly quiet," Regina answered; "and is not
+to return to business for some time to come. Mr. Melton, with his usual
+kindness, has undertaken to look after his affairs for him. Otherwise,
+my uncle, in his present state of anxiety about the bank, would never
+have consented to obey the doctor's orders. When he can safely travel,
+he is recommended to go abroad for the winter, and get well again in
+some warmer climate. He refuses to leave his business--and the doctor
+refuses to take the responsibility. There is to be a consultation of
+physicians tomorrow. Oh, Amelius, I was really fond of my aunt--I am
+heart-broken at this dreadful change!"
+
+There was a momentary silence. If Mr. Melton had been present, he would
+have said a few neatly sympathetic words. Amelius knew no more than a
+savage of the art of conventional consolation. Tadmor had made him
+familiar with the social and political questions of the time, and had
+taught him to speak in public. But Tadmor, rich in books and
+newspapers, was a powerless training institution in the matter of small
+talk.
+
+"Suppose Mr. Farnaby is obliged to go abroad," he suggested, after
+waiting a little, "what will you do?"
+
+Regina looked at him, with an air of melancholy surprise. "I shall do
+my duty, of course," she answered gravely. "I shall accompany my dear
+uncle, if he wishes it." She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece.
+"It is time he took his medicine," she resumed; "you will excuse me, I
+am sure." She shook hands, not very warmly--and hastened out of the
+room.
+
+Amelius left the house, with a conviction which disheartened him--the
+conviction that he had never understood Regina, and that he was not
+likely to understand her in the future. He turned for relief to the
+consideration of Mr. Farnaby's strange conduct, under the domestic
+disaster which had befallen him.
+
+Recalling what he had observed for himself, and what he had heard from
+Mrs. Farnaby when she had first taken him into her confidence, he
+inferred that the subject of the lost child had not only been a subject
+of estrangement between the husband and wife, but that the husband was,
+in some way, the person blamable for it. Assuming this theory to be the
+right one, there would be serious obstacles to the meeting of the
+mother and child, in the mother's home. The departure of Mrs. Farnaby
+was, in that case, no longer unintelligible--and Mr. Farnaby's
+otherwise inexplicable conduct had the light of a motive thrown on it,
+which might not unnaturally influence a hard-hearted man weary alike of
+his wife and his wife's troubles. Arriving at this conclusion by a far
+shorter process than is here indicated, Amelius pursued the subject no
+further. At the time when he had first visited the Farnabys, Rufus had
+advised him to withdraw from closer intercourse with them, while he had
+the chance. In his present mood, he was almost in danger of
+acknowledging to himself that Rufus had proved to be right.
+
+He lunched with his American friend at the hotel. Before the meal was
+over Mrs. Payson called, to say a few cheering words about Sally.
+
+It was not to be denied that the girl remained persistently silent and
+reserved. In other respects the report was highly favourable. She was
+obedient to the rules of the house; she was always ready with any
+little services that she could render to her companions; and she was so
+eager to improve herself, by means of her reading-lessons and
+writing-lessons, that it was not easy to induce her to lay aside her
+book and her slate. When the teacher offered her some small reward for
+her good conduct, and asked what she would like, the sad little face
+brightened, and the faithful creature's answer was always the same--"I
+should like to know what he is doing now." (Alas for Sally!--"he" meant
+Amelius.)
+
+"You must wait a little longer before you write to her," Mrs. Payson
+concluded, "and you must not think of seeing her for some time to come.
+I know you will help us by consenting to this--for Sally's sake."
+
+Amelius bowed in silence. He would not have confessed what he felt, at
+that moment, to any living soul--it is doubtful if he even confessed it
+to himself. Mrs. Payson, observing him with a woman's keen sympathy,
+relented a little. "I might give her a message," the good lady
+suggested--"just to say you are glad to hear she is behaving so well."
+
+"Will you give her this?" Amelius asked.
+
+He took from his pocket a little photograph of the cottage, which he
+had noticed on the house-agent's desk, and had taken away with him. "It
+is _my_ cottage now," he explained, in tones that faltered a little; "I
+am going to live there; Sally might like to see it."
+
+"Sally _shall_ see it," Mrs. Payson agreed--"if you will only let me
+take this away first." She pointed to the address of the cottage,
+printed under the photograph. Past experience in the Home made her
+reluctant to trust Sally with the address in London at which Amelius
+was to be found.
+
+Rufus produced a huge complex knife, out of the depths of which a pair
+of scissors burst on touching a spring. Mrs. Payson cut off the
+address, and placed the photograph in her pocket-book. "Now," she said,
+"Sally will be happy, and no harm can come of it."
+
+"I've known you, ma'am, nigh on twenty years," Rufus remarked. "I do
+assure you that's the first rash observation I ever heard from your
+lips."
+
+
+
+BOOK THE SEVENTH
+
+THE VANISHING HOPES
+
+CHAPTER 1
+
+Two days later, Amelius moved into his cottage.
+
+He had provided himself with a new servant, as easily as he had
+provided himself with a new abode. A foreign waiter at the hotel--a
+gray-haired Frenchman of the old school, reputed to be the most
+ill-tempered servant in the house--had felt the genial influence of
+Amelius with the receptive readiness of his race. Here was a young
+Englishman, who spoke to him as easily and pleasantly as if he was
+speaking to a friend--who heard him relate his little grievances, and
+never took advantage of that circumstance to turn him into
+ridicule--who said kindly, "I hope you don't mind my calling you by
+your nickname," when he ventured to explain that his Christian name was
+"Theophile," and that his English fellow servants had facetiously
+altered and shortened it to "Toff," to suit their insular convenience.
+"For the first time, sir," he had hastened to add, "I feel it an honour
+to be Toff, when _you_ speak to me." Asking everybody whom he met if
+they could recommend a servant to him, Amelius had put the question,
+when Toff came in one morning with the hot water. The old Frenchman
+made a low bow, expressive of devotion. "I know of but one man, sir,
+whom I can safely recommend," he answered--"take me." Amelius was
+delighted; he had only one objection to make. "I don't want to keep two
+servants," he said, while Toff was helping him on with his
+dressing-gown. "Why should you keep two servants, sir?" the Frenchman
+inquired. Amelius answered, "I can't ask you to make the beds." "Why
+not?" said Toff--and made the bed, then and there, in five minutes. He
+ran out of the room, and came back with one of the chambermaid's
+brooms. "Judge for yourself, sir--can I sweep a carpet?" He placed a
+chair for Amelius. "Permit me to save you the trouble of shaving
+yourself. Are you satisfied? Very good. I am equally capable of cutting
+your hair, and attending to your corns (if you suffer, sir, from that
+inconvenience). Will you allow me to propose something which you have
+not had yet for your breakfast?" In half an hour more, he brought in
+the new dish. "Oeufs a la Tripe. An elementary specimen, sir, of what I
+can do for you as a cook. Be pleased to taste it." Amelius ate it all
+up on the spot; and Toff applied the moral, with the neatest choice of
+language. "Thank you, sir, for a gratifying expression of approval. One
+more specimen of my poor capabilities, and I have done. It is barely
+possible--God forbid!--that you may fall ill. Honour me by reading that
+document." He handed a written paper to Amelius, dated some years since
+in Paris, and signed in an English name. "I testify with gratitude and
+pleasure that Theophile Leblond has nursed me through a long illness,
+with an intelligence and devotion which I cannot too highly praise."
+"May you never employ me, sir, in that capacity," said Toff. "I have
+only to add that I am not so old as I look, and that my political
+opinions have changed, in later life, from red-republican to
+moderate-liberal. I also confess, if necessary, that I still have an
+ardent admiration for the fair sex." He laid his hand on his heart, and
+waited to be engaged.
+
+So the household at the cottage was modestly limited to Amelius and
+Toff.
+
+Rufus remained for another week in London, to watch the new experiment.
+He had made careful inquiries into the Frenchman's character, and had
+found that the complaints of his temper really amounted to this--that
+"he gave himself the airs of a gentleman, and didn't understand a
+joke." On the question of honesty and sobriety, the testimony of the
+proprietor of the hotel left Rufus nothing to desire. Greatly to his
+surprise, Amelius showed no disposition to grow weary of his quiet
+life, or to take refuge in perilous amusements from the sober society
+of his books. He was regular in his inquiries at Mr. Farnaby's house;
+he took long walks by himself; he never mentioned Sally's name; he lost
+his interest in going to the theatre, and he never appeared in the
+smoking-room of the club. Some men, observing the remarkable change
+which had passed over his excitable temperament, would have hailed it
+as a good sign for the future. The New Englander looked below the
+surface, and was not so easily deceived. "My bright boy's soul is
+discouraged and cast down," was the conclusion that he drew. "There's
+darkness in him where there once was light; and, what's worse than all,
+he caves in, and keeps it to himself." After vainly trying to induce
+Amelius to open his heart, Rufus at last went to Paris, with a mind
+that was ill at ease.
+
+On the day of the American's departure, the march of events was
+resumed; and the unnaturally quiet life of Amelius began to be
+disturbed again.
+
+Making his customary inquiries in the forenoon at Mr. Farnaby's door,
+he found the household in a state of agitation. A second council of
+physicians had been held, in consequence of the appearance of some
+alarming symptoms in the case of the patient. On this occasion, the
+medical men told him plainly that he would sacrifice his life to his
+obstinacy, if he persisted in remaining in London and returning to his
+business. By good fortune, the affairs of the bank had greatly
+benefited, through the powerful interposition of Mr. Melton. With the
+improved prospects, Mr. Farnaby (at his niece's entreaty) submitted to
+the doctor's advice. He was to start on the first stage of his journey
+the next morning; and, at his own earnest desire, Regina was to go with
+him. "I hate strangers and foreigners; and I don't like being alone. If
+you don't go with me, I shall stay where I am--and die." So Mr. Farnaby
+put it to his adopted daughter, in his rasping voice and with his hard
+frown.
+
+"I am grieved, dear Amelius, to go away from you," Regina said; "but
+what can I do? It would have been so nice if you could have gone with
+us. I did hint something of the sort; but--"
+
+Her downcast face finished the sentence. Amelius felt the bare idea of
+being Mr. Farnaby's travelling companion make his blood run cold. And
+Mr. Farnaby, on his side, reciprocated the sentiment. "I will write
+constantly, dear," Regina resumed; "and you will write back, won't you?
+Say you love me; and promise to come tomorrow morning, before we go."
+
+She kissed him affectionately--and, the instant after, checked the
+responsive outburst of tenderness in Amelius, by that utter want of
+tact which (in spite of the popular delusion to the contrary) is so
+much more common in women than in men, "My uncle is so particular about
+packing his linen," she said; "nobody can please him but me; I must ask
+you to let me run upstairs again."
+
+Amelius went out into the street, with his head down and his lips fast
+closed. He was not far from Mrs. Payson's house. "Why shouldn't I
+call?" he thought to himself. His conscience added, "And hear some news
+of Sally."
+
+There was good news. The girl was brightening mentally and
+physically--she was in a fair way, if she only remained in the Home, to
+be "Simple" Sally no longer. Amelius asked if she had got the
+photograph of the cottage. Mrs. Payson laughed. "Sleeps with it under
+her pillow, poor child," she said, "and looks at it fifty times a day."
+Thirty years since, with infinitely less experience to guide her, the
+worthy matron would have followed her instincts, and would have
+hesitated to tell Amelius quite so much about the photograph. But some
+of a woman's finer sensibilities do get blunted with the advance of age
+and the accumulation of wisdom.
+
+Instead of pursuing the subject of Sally's progress, Amelius, to Mrs.
+Payson's surprise, made a clumsy excuse, and abruptly took his leave.
+
+He felt the need of being alone; he was conscious of a vague distrust
+of himself, which degraded him in his own estimation. Was he, like
+characters he had read of in books, the victim of a fatality? The
+slightest circumstances conspired to heighten his interest in
+Sally--just at the time when Regina had once more disappointed him. He
+was as firmly convinced, as if he had been the strictest moralist
+living, that it was an insult to Regina, and an insult to his own
+self-respect, to set the lost creature whom he had rescued in any light
+of comparison with the young lady who was one day to be his wife. And
+yet, try as he might to drive her out, Sally kept her place in his
+thoughts. There was, apparently, some innate depravity in him. If a
+looking-glass had been handed to him at that moment, he would have been
+ashamed to look himself in the face.
+
+After walking until he was weary, he went to his club.
+
+The porter gave him a letter as he crossed the hall. Mrs. Farnaby had
+kept her promise, and had written to him. The smoking-room was deserted
+at that time of day. He opened his letter in solitude, looked at it,
+crumpled it up impatiently, and put it into his pocket. Not even Mrs.
+Farnaby could interest him at that critical moment. His own affairs
+absorbed him. The one idea in his mind, after what he had heard about
+Sally, was the idea of making a last effort to hasten the date of his
+marriage before Mr. Farnaby left England. "If I can only feel sure of
+Regina--"
+
+His thoughts went no further than that. He walked up and down the empty
+smoking-room, anxious and irritable, dissatisfied with himself,
+despairing of the future. "I can but try it!" he suddenly decided--and
+turned at once to the table to write a letter.
+
+Death had been busy with the members of his family in the long interval
+that had passed since he and his father left England. His nearest
+surviving relative was his uncle--his father's younger brother--who
+occupied a post of high importance in the Foreign Office. To this
+gentleman he now wrote, announcing his arrival in England, and his
+anxiety to qualify himself for employment in a Government office. "Be
+so good as to grant me an interview," he concluded; "and I hope to
+satisfy you that I am not unworthy of your kindness, if you will exert
+your influence in my favour."
+
+He sent away his letter at once by a private messenger, with
+instructions to wait for an answer.
+
+It was not without doubt, and even pain, that he had opened
+communication with a man whose harsh treatment of his father it was
+impossible for him to forget. What could the son expect? There was but
+one hope. Time might have inclined the younger brother to make
+atonement to the memory of the elder, by a favourable reception of his
+nephew's request.
+
+His father's last words of caution, his own boyish promise not to claim
+kindred with his relations in England, were vividly present to the mind
+of Amelius, while he waited for the return of the messenger. His one
+justification was in the motives that animated him. Circumstances,
+which his father had never anticipated, rendered it an act of duty
+towards himself to make the trial at least of what his family interest
+could do for him. There could be no sort of doubt that a man of Mr.
+Farnaby's character would yield, if Amelius could announce that he had
+the promise of an appointment under Government--with the powerful
+influence of a near relation to accelerate his promotion. He sat, idly
+drawing lines on the blotting-paper; at one moment regretting that he
+had sent his letter; at another, comforting himself in the belief that,
+if his father had been living to advise him, his father would have
+approved of the course that he had taken.
+
+The messenger returned with these lines of reply:--
+
+"Under any ordinary circumstances, I should have used my influence to
+help you on in the world. But, when you not only hold the most
+abominable political opinions, but actually proclaim those opinions in
+public, I am amazed at your audacity in writing to me. There must be no
+more communication between us. While you are a Socialist, you are a
+stranger to me."
+
+Amelius accepted this new rebuff with ominous composure. He sat quietly
+smoking in the deserted room, with his uncle's letter in his hand.
+
+Among the other disastrous results of the lecture, some of the
+newspapers had briefly reported it. Preoccupied by his anxieties,
+Amelius had forgotten this when he wrote to his relative. "Just like
+me!" he thought, as he threw the letter into the fire. His last hopes
+floated up the chimney, with the tiny puff of smoke from the burnt
+paper. There was now no other chance of shortening the marriage
+engagement left to try. He had already applied to the good friend whom
+he had mentioned to Regina. The answer, kindly written in this case,
+had not been very encouraging:--
+
+"I have other claims to consider. All that I can do, I will do. Don't
+be disheartened--I only ask you to wait."
+
+Amelius rose to go home--and sat down again. His natural energy seemed
+to have deserted him--it required an effort to leave the club. He took
+up the newspapers, and threw them aside, one after another. Not one of
+the unfortunate writers and reporters could please him on that
+inauspicious day. It was only while he was lighting his second cigar
+that he remembered Mrs. Farnaby's unread letter to him. By this time,
+he was more than weary of his own affairs. He read the letter.
+
+"I find the people who have my happiness at their mercy both dilatory
+and greedy." (Mrs. Farnaby wrote); "but the little that I can persuade
+them to tell me is very favourable to my hopes. I am still, to my
+annoyance, only in personal communication with the hateful old woman.
+The young man either sends messages, or writes to me through the post.
+By this latter means he has accurately described, not only in which of
+my child's feet the fault exists, but the exact position which it
+occupies. Here, you will agree with me, is positive evidence that he is
+speaking the truth, whoever he is.
+
+"But for this reassuring circumstance, I should feel inclined to be
+suspicious of some things--of the obstinate manner, for instance, in
+which the young man keeps himself concealed; also, of his privately
+warning me not to trust the woman who is his own messenger, and not to
+tell her on any account of the information which his letters convey to
+me. I feel that I ought to be cautious with him on the question of
+money--and yet, in my eagerness to see my darling, I am ready to give
+him all that he asks for. In this uncertain state of mind, I am
+restrained, strangely enough, by the old woman herself. She warns me
+that he is the sort of man, if he once gets the money, to spare himself
+the trouble of earning it. It is the one hold I have over him (she
+says)--so I control the burning impatience that consumes me as well as
+I can.
+
+"No! I must not attempt to describe my own state of mind. When I tell
+you that I am actually afraid of dying before I can give my sweet love
+the first kiss, you will understand and pity me. When night comes, I
+feel sometimes half mad.
+
+"I send you my present address, in the hope that you will write and
+cheer me a little. I must not ask you to come and see me yet. I am not
+fit for it--and, besides, I am under a promise, in the present state of
+the negotiations, to shut the door on my friends. It is easy enough to
+do that; I have no friend, Amelius, but you.
+
+"Try to feel compassionately towards me, my kind-hearted boy. For so
+many long years, my heart has had nothing to feed on but the one hope
+that is now being realized at last. No sympathy between my husband and
+me (on the contrary, a horrid unacknowledged enmity, which has always
+kept us apart); my father and mother, in their time both wretched about
+my marriage, and with good reason; my only sister dying in
+poverty--what a life for a childless woman! don't let us dwell on it
+any longer.
+
+"Goodbye for the present, Amelius. I beg you will not think I am always
+wretched. When I want to be happy, I look to the coming time."
+
+This melancholy letter added to the depression that weighed on the
+spirits of Amelius. It inspired him with vague fears for Mrs. Farnaby.
+In her own interests, he would have felt himself tempted to consult
+Rufus (without mentioning names), if the American had been in London.
+As things were, he put the letter back in his pocket with a sigh. Even
+Mrs. Farnaby, in her sad moments, had a consoling prospect to
+contemplate. "Everybody but me!" Amelius thought.
+
+His reflections were interrupted by the appearance of an idle young
+member of the club, with whom he was acquainted. The new-comer remarked
+that he looked out of spirits, and suggested that they should dine
+together and amuse themselves somewhere in the evening. Amelius
+accepted the proposal: any man who offered him a refuge from himself
+was a friend to him on that day. Departing from his temperate habits,
+he deliberately drank more than usual. The wine excited him for the
+time, and then left him more depressed than ever; and the amusements of
+the evening produced the same result. He returned to his cottage so
+completely disheartened, that he regretted the day when he had left
+Tadmor.
+
+But he kept his appointment, the next morning, to take leave of Regina.
+
+The carriage was at the door, with a luggage-laden cab waiting behind
+it. Mr. Farnaby's ill-temper vented itself in predictions that they
+would be too late to catch the train. His harsh voice, alternating with
+Regina's meek remonstrances, reached the ears of Amelius from the
+breakfast-room. "I'm not going to wait for the gentleman-Socialist,"
+Mr. Farnaby announced, with his hardest sarcasm of tone. "Dear uncle,
+we have a quarter of an hour to spare!" "We have nothing of the sort;
+we want all that time to register the luggage." The servant's voice was
+heard next. "Mr. Goldenheart, miss." Mr. Farnaby instantly stepped into
+the hall. "Goodbye!" he called to Amelius, through the open door of the
+dining-room--and passed straight on to the carriage. "I shan't wait,
+Regina!" he shouted, from the doorstep. "Let him go by himself!" said
+Amelius indignantly, as Regina hurried into the room. "Oh, hush, hush,
+dear! Suppose he heard you? No week shall pass without my writing to
+you; promise you will write back, Amelius. One more kiss! Oh, my dear!"
+The servant interposed, keeping discreetly out of sight. "I beg your
+pardon, miss, my master wishes to know whether you are going with him
+or not." Regina waited to hear no more. She gave her lover a farewell
+look to remember her by, and ran out.
+
+That innate depravity which Amelius had lately discovered in his own
+nature, let the forbidden thoughts loose in him again as he watched the
+departing carriage from the door. "If poor little Sally had been in her
+place--!" He made an effort of virtuous resolution, and stopped there.
+"What a blackguard a man may be," he penitently reflected, "without
+suspecting it himself!"
+
+He descended the house-steps. The discreet servant wished him good
+morning, with a certain cheery respect--the man was delighted to have
+seen the last of his hard master for some months to come. Amelius
+stopped and turned round, smiling grimly. He was in such a reckless
+humour, that he was even ready to divert his mind by astonishing a
+footman. "Richard," he said, "are you engaged to be married?" Richard
+stared in blank surprise at the strange question--and modestly admitted
+that he was engaged to marry the housemaid next door. "Soon?" asked
+Amelius, swinging his stick. "As soon as I have saved a little more
+money, sir." "Damn the money!" cried Amelius--and struck his stick on
+the pavement, and walked away with a last look at the house as if he
+hated the sight of it. Richard watched the departing young gentleman,
+and shook his head ominously as he shut the door.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 2
+
+Amelius went straight back to the cottage, with the one desperate
+purpose of reverting to the old plan, and burying himself in his books.
+Surveying his well-filled shelves with an impatience unworthy of a
+scholar, Hume's "History of England" unhappily caught his eye. He took
+down the first volume. In less than half an hour he discovered that
+Hume could do nothing for him. Wisely inspired, he turned to the truer
+history next, which men call fiction. The writings of the one supreme
+genius, who soars above all other novelists as Shakespeare soars above
+all other dramatists--the writings of Walter Scott--had their place of
+honour in his library. The collection of the Waverley Novels at Tadmor
+had not been complete. Enviable Amelius had still to read _Rob Roy._ He
+opened the book. For the rest of the day he was in love with Diana
+Vernon; and when he looked out once or twice at the garden to rest his
+eyes, he saw "Andrew Fairservice" busy over the flowerbeds.
+
+He closed the last page of the noble story as Toff came in to lay the
+cloth for dinner.
+
+The master at table and the servant behind his chair were accustomed to
+gossip pleasantly during meals. Amelius did his best to carry on the
+talk as usual. But he was no longer in the delightful world of illusion
+which Scott had opened to him. The hard realities of his own everyday
+life had gathered round him again. Observing him with unobtrusive
+attention, the Frenchman soon perceived the absence of the easy humour
+and the excellent appetite which distinguished his young master at
+other times.
+
+"May I venture to make a remark, sir?" Toff inquired, after a long
+pause in the conversation.
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"And may I take the liberty of expressing my sentiments freely?"
+
+"Of course you may."
+
+"Dear sir, you have a pretty little simple dinner to-day," Toff began.
+"Forgive me for praising myself, I am influenced by the natural pride
+of having cooked the dinner. For soup, you have Croute au pot; for
+meat, you have Tourne-dos a la sauce poivrade; for pudding, you have
+Pommes au beurre. All so nice--and you hardly eat anything, and your
+amiable conversation falls into a melancholy silence which fills me
+with regret. Is it you who are to blame for this? No, sir! it is the
+life you lead. I call it the life of a monk; I call it the life of a
+hermit--I say boldly it is the life of all others which is most
+unsympathetic to a young man like you. Pardon the warmth of my
+expressions; I am eager to make my language the language of utmost
+delicacy. May I quote a little song? It is in an old, old, old French
+piece, long since forgotten, called 'Les Maris Garcons'. There are two
+lines in that song (I have often heard my good father sing them) which
+I will venture to apply to your case; 'Amour, delicatesse, et gaite;
+D'un bon Francais c'est la devise!' Sir, you have naturally delicatesse
+and gaite--but the last has, for some days, been under a cloud. What is
+wanted to remove that cloud? L'Amour! Love, as you say in English.
+Where is the charming woman, who is the only ornament wanting to this
+sweet cottage? Why is she still invisible? Remedy that unhappy
+oversight, sir. You are here in a suburban Paradise. I consult my long
+experience; and I implore you to invite Eve.--Ha! you smile; your lost
+gaiety returns, and you feel it as I do. Might I propose another glass
+of claret, and the reappearance on the table of the Tourne-dos a la
+poivrade?"
+
+It was impossible to be melancholy in this man's company. Amelius
+sanctioned the return of the Tourne-dos, and tried the other glass of
+claret. "My good friend," he said, with something like a return of his
+old easy way, "you talk about charming women, and your long experience.
+Let's hear what your experience has been."
+
+For the first time Toff began to look a little confused.
+
+"You have honoured me, sir, by calling me your good friend," he said.
+"After that, I am sure you will not send me away if I own the truth.
+No! My heart tells me I shall not appeal to your indulgence in vain.
+Dear sir, in the holidays which you kindly give me, I provide competent
+persons to take care of the house in my absence, don't I? One person,
+if you remember, was a most handsome engaging young man. He is, if you
+please, my son by my first wife--now an angel in heaven. Another
+person, who took care of the house, on the next occasion, was a little
+black-eyed boy; a miracle of discretion for his age. He is my son by my
+second wife--now another angel in heaven. Forgive me, I have not done
+yet. Some few days since, you thought you heard an infant crying
+downstairs. Like a miserable wretch, I lied; I declared it was the
+infant in the next house. Ah, sir, it was my own cherubim baby by my
+third wife--an angel close by in the Edgeware Road, established in a
+small milliner shop, which will expand to great things by-and-by. The
+intervals between my marriages are not worthy of your notice. Fugitive
+caprices, sir--fugitive caprices! To sum it all up (as you say in
+England), it is not in me to resist the enchanting sex. If my third
+angel dies, I shall tear my hair--but I shall none the less take a
+fourth."
+
+"Take a dozen if you like," said Amelius. "Why should you have kept all
+this from my knowledge?"
+
+Toff hung his head. "I think it was one of my foreign mistakes," he
+pleaded. "The servants' advertisements in your English newspapers
+frighten me. How does the most meritorious manservant announce himself
+when he wants the best possible place? He says he is 'without
+encumbrances.' Gracious heaven, what a dreadful word to describe the
+poor pretty harmless children! I was afraid, sir, you might have some
+English objection to _my_ 'encumbrances.' A young man, a boy, and a
+cherubim-baby; not to speak of the sacred memories of two women, and
+the charming occasional society of a third; all inextricably enveloped
+in the life of one amorous-meritorious French person--surely there was
+reason for hesitation here? No matter; I bless my stars I know better
+now, and I withdraw myself from further notice. Permit me to recall
+your attention to the Roquefort cheese, and a mouthful of potato-salad
+to correct the richness of him."
+
+
+The dinner was over at last. Amelius was alone again.
+
+It was a still evening. Not a breath of wind stirred among the trees in
+the garden; no vehicles passed along the by-road in which the cottage
+stood. Now and then, Toff was audible downstairs, singing French songs
+in a high cracked voice, while he washed the plates and dishes, and set
+everything in order for the night. Amelius looked at his
+bookshelves--and felt that, after _Rob Roy,_ there was no more reading
+for him that evening. The slow minutes followed one another wearily;
+the deadly depression of the earlier hours of the day was stealthily
+fastening its hold on him again. How might he best resist it? His
+healthy out-of-door habits at Tadmor suggested the only remedy that he
+could think of. Be his troubles what they might, his one simple method
+of resisting them, at all other times, was his simple method now. He
+went out for a walk.
+
+For two hours he rambled about the great north-western suburb of
+London. Perhaps he felt the heavy oppressive weather, or perhaps his
+good dinner had not agreed with him. Any way, he was so thoroughly worn
+out, that he was obliged to return to the cottage in a cab.
+
+Toff opened the door--but not with his customary alacrity. Amelius was
+too completely fatigued to notice any trifling circumstance. Otherwise,
+he would certainly have perceived something odd in the old Frenchman's
+withered face. He looked at his master, as he relieved him of his hat
+and coat, with the strangest expression of interest and anxiety;
+modified by a certain sardonic sense of amusement underlying the more
+serious emotions. "A nasty dull evening," Amelius said wearily. And
+Toff, always eager to talk at other times, only answered, "Yes,
+sir"--and retreated at once to the kitchen regions.
+
+The fire was bright; the curtains were drawn; the reading-lamp, with
+its ample green shade, was on the table--a more comfortable room no man
+could have found to receive him after a long walk. Reclining at his
+ease in his chair, Amelius thought of ringing for some restorative
+brandy-and-water. While he was thinking, he fell asleep; and, while he
+slept, he dreamed.
+
+Was it a dream?
+
+He certainly saw the library--not fantastically transformed, but just
+like what the room really was. So far, he might have been wide awake,
+looking at the familiar objects round him. But, after a while, an event
+happened which set the laws of reality at defiance. Simple Sally, miles
+away in the Home, made her appearance in the library, nevertheless. He
+saw the drawn curtains over the window parted from behind; he saw the
+girl step out from them, and stop, looking at him timidly. She was
+clothed in the plain dress that he had bought for her; and she looked
+more charming in it than ever. The beauty of health claimed kindred
+now, in her pretty face, with the beauty of youth: the wan cheeks had
+begun to fill out, and the pale lips were delicately suffused with
+their natural rosy red. Little by little her first fears seemed to
+subside. She smiled, and softly crossed the room, and stood at his
+side. After looking at him with a rapt expression of tenderness and
+delight, she laid her hands on the arm of the chair, and said, in the
+quaintly quiet way which he remembered so well, "I want to kiss you."
+She bent over him, and kissed him with the innocent freedom of a child.
+Then she raised herself again, and looked backwards and forwards
+between Amelius and the lamp. "The firelight is the best," she said.
+Darkness fell over the room as she spoke; he saw her no more; he heard
+her no more. A blank interval followed; there flowed over him the
+oblivion of perfect sleep. His next conscious sensation was a feeling
+of cold--he shivered, and woke.
+
+The impression of the dream was in his mind at the moment of waking. He
+started as he raised himself in the chair. Was he dreaming still? No;
+he was certainly awake. And, as certainly, the room was dark!
+
+He looked and looked. It was not to be denied, or explained away. There
+was the fire burning low, and leaving the room chilly--and there, just
+visible on the table, in the flicker of the dying flame, was the
+extinguished lamp!
+
+He mended the fire, and put his hand on the bell to ring for Toff, and
+thought better of it. What need had he of the lamplight? He was too
+weary for reading; he preferred going to sleep again, and dreaming
+again of Sally. Where was the harm in dreaming of the poor little soul,
+so far away from him? The happiest part of his life now was the part of
+it that was passed in sleep.
+
+As the fresh coals began to kindle feebly, he looked again at the lamp.
+It was odd, to say the least of it, that the light should have
+accidentally gone out, exactly at the right time to realize the
+fanciful extinction of it in his dream. How was it there was no smell
+of a burnt-out lamp? He was too lazy, or too tired, to pursue the
+question. Let the mystery remain a mystery--and let him rest in peace!
+He settled himself fretfully in his chair. What a fool he was to bother
+his head about a lamp, instead of closing his eyes and going to sleep
+again!
+
+The room began to recover its pleasant temperature. He shifted the
+cushion in the chair, so that it supported his head in perfect comfort,
+and composed himself to rest. But the capricious influences of sleep
+had deserted him: he tried one position after another, and all in vain.
+It was a mere mockery even to shut his eyes. He resigned himself to
+circumstances, and stretched out his legs, and looked at the
+companionable fire.
+
+Of late he had thought more frequently than usual of his past days in
+the Community. His mind went back again now to that bygone time. The
+clock on the mantelpiece struck nine. They were all at supper, at
+Tadmor--talking over the events of the day. He saw himself again at the
+long wooden table, with shy little Mellicent in the chair next to him,
+and his favourite dog at his feet waiting to be fed. Where was
+Mellicent now? It was a sad letter that she had written to him, with
+the strange fixed idea that he was to return to her one day. There was
+something very winning and lovable about the poor creature who had
+lived such a hard life at home, and had suffered so keenly. It was a
+comfort to think that she would go back to the Community. What happier
+destiny could she hope for? Would she take care of his dog for him when
+she went back? They had all promised to be kind to his pet animals in
+his absence; but the dog was fond of Mellicent; he would be happier
+with Mellicent than with the rest of them. And his little tame fawn,
+and his birds--how were they doing? He had not even written to inquire
+after them; he had been cruelly forgetful of those harmless dumb loving
+friends. In his present solitude, in his dreary doubts of the future,
+what would he not give to feel the dog nestling in his bosom, and the
+fawn's little rough tongue licking his hand! His heart ached as he
+thought of it: a choking hysterical sensation oppressed his breathing.
+He tried to rise, and ring for lights, and rouse his manhood to endure
+and resist. It was not to be done. Where was his courage? where was the
+cheerfulness which had never failed him at other time? He sank back in
+the chair, and hid his face in his hands for shame at his own weakness,
+and burst out crying.
+
+The touch of soft persuasive fingers suddenly thrilled through him.
+
+His hands were gently drawn away from his face; a familiar voice, sweet
+and low, said, "Oh, don't cry!" Dimly through his tears he saw the
+well-remembered little figure standing between him and the fire. In his
+unendurable loneliness, he had longed for his dog, he had longed for
+his fawn. There was the martyred creature from the streets, whom he had
+rescued from nameless horror, waiting to be his companion, servant,
+friend! There was the child-victim of cold and hunger, still only
+feeling her way to womanhood; innocent of all other aspirations, so
+long as she might fill the place which had once been occupied by the
+dog and the fawn!
+
+Amelius looked at her with a momentary doubt whether he was waking or
+sleeping. "Good God!" he cried, "am I dreaming again?"
+
+"No," she said, simply. "You are awake this time. Let me dry your eyes;
+I know where you put your handkerchief." She perched on his knee, and
+wiped away the tears, and smoothed his hair over his forehead. "I was
+frightened to show myself till I heard you crying," she confessed.
+"Then I thought, 'Come! he can't be angry with me now'--and I crept out
+from behind the curtains there. The old man let me in. I can't live
+without seeing you; I've tried till I could try no longer. I owned it
+to the old man when he opened the door. I said, 'I only want to look at
+him; won't you let me in?' And he says, 'God bless me, here's Eve come
+already!' I don't know what he meant--he let me in, that's all I care
+about. He's a funny old foreigner. Send him away; I'm to be your
+servant now. Why were you crying? I've cried often enough about You.
+No; that can't be--I can't expect you to cry about _me;_ I can only
+expect you to scold me. I know I'm a bad girl."
+
+She cast one doubtful look at him, and hung her head--waiting to be
+scolded. Amelius lost all control over himself. He took her in his arms
+and kissed her again and again. "You are a dear good grateful little
+creature!" he burst out--and suddenly stopped, aware too late of the
+act of imprudence which he had committed. He put her away from him; he
+tried to ask severe questions, and to administer merited reproof. Even
+if he had succeeded, Sally was too happy to listen to him. "It's all
+right now," she cried. "I'm never, never, never to go back to the Home!
+Oh, I'm so happy! Let's light the lamp again!"
+
+She found the matchbox on the chimneypiece. In a minute more the room
+was bright. Amelius sat looking at her, perfectly incapable of deciding
+what he ought to say or do next. To complete his bewilderment, the
+voice of the attentive old Frenchman made itself heard through the
+door, in discreetly confidential tones.
+
+"I have prepared an appetising little supper, sir," said Toff. "Be
+pleased to ring when you and the young lady are ready."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 3
+
+Toff's interference proved to have its use. The announcement of the
+little supper--plainly implying Simple Sally's reception at the
+cottage--reminded Amelius of his responsibilities. He at once stepped
+out into the passage, and closed the door behind him.
+
+The old Frenchman was waiting to be reprimanded or thanked, as the case
+might be, with his head down, his shoulders shrugged up to his ears,
+and the palms of his hands spread out appealingly on either side of
+him--a model of mute resignation to circumstances.
+
+"Do you know that you have put me in a very awkward position?" Amelius
+began.
+
+Toff lifted one of his hands to his heart. "You are aware of my
+weakness, sir. When that charming little creature presented herself at
+the door, sinking with fatigue, I could no more resist her than I could
+take a hop-skip-and-jump over the roof of this cottage. If I have done
+wrong, take no account of the proud fidelity with which I have served
+you--tell me to pack up and go; but don't ask me to assume a position
+of severity towards that enchanting Miss. It is not in my heart to do
+it," said Toff, lifting his eyes with tearful solemnity to an imaginary
+heaven. "On my sacred word of honour as a Frenchman, I would die rather
+than do it!"
+
+"Don't talk nonsense," Amelius rejoined a little impatiently. "I don't
+blame you--but you have got me into a scrape, for all that. If I did my
+duty, I should send for a cab, and take her back."
+
+Toff opened his twinkling old eyes in a perfect transport of
+astonishment. "What!" he cried, "take her back? Without rest, without
+supper? And you call that duty? How inconceivably ugly does duty look
+when it assumes an inhospitable aspect towards a woman! Pardon me, sir;
+I must express my sentiments or I shall burst. You will say perhaps
+that I have no conception of duty? Pardon me again--my conception of
+duty is _here!"_
+
+He threw open the door of the sitting-room. In spite of his anxiety,
+Amelius burst out laughing. The Frenchman's inexhaustible contrivances
+had transformed the sitting-room into a bedroom for Sally. The sofa had
+become a snug little white bed; a hairbrush and comb, and a bottle of
+eau-de-cologne, were on the table; a bath stood near the fire, with
+cans of hot and cold water, and a railway rug placed under them to save
+the carpet. "I dare not presume to contradict you, sir," said Toff,
+"but there is _my_ conception of duty! In the kitchen, I have another
+conception, keeping warm; you can smell it up the stairs. Salmi of
+partridge, with the littlest possible dash of garlic in the sauce. Oh,
+sir, let that angel rest and refresh herself! Virtuous severity,
+believe me, is a most horribly unbecoming virtue at your age!" He spoke
+quite seriously, with the air of a profound moralist, asserting
+principles that did equal honour to his head and his heart.
+
+Amelius went back to the library.
+
+Sally was resting in the easy-chair; her position showed plainly that
+she was suffering from fatigue. "I have had a long, long walk," she
+said; "and I don't know which aches worst, my back or my feet. I don't
+care--I'm quite happy now I'm here." She nestled herself comfortably in
+the chair. "Do you mind my looking at you?" she asked. "Oh, it's so
+long since I saw you!"
+
+There was a new undertone of tenderness in her voice--innocent
+tenderness that openly avowed itself. The reviving influences of the
+life at the Home had done much--and had much yet left to do. Her wasted
+face and figure were filling out, her cheeks and lips were regaining
+their lovely natural colour, as Amelius had seen in his dream. But her
+eyes, in repose, still resumed their vacantly patient look; and her
+manner, with a perceptible increase of composure and confidence, had
+not lost its quaint childish charm. Her growth from girl to woman was a
+growth of fine gradations, guided by the unerring deliberation of
+Nature and Time.
+
+"Do you think they will follow you here, from the Home?" Amelius asked.
+
+She looked at the clock. "I don't think so," she said quietly. "It's
+hours since I slipped out by the back door. They have very strict rules
+about runaway girls--even when their friends bring them back. If _you_
+send me back--" she stopped, and looked thoughtfully into the fire.
+
+"What will you do, if I send you back?"
+
+"What one of our girls did, before they took her in at the Home. She
+jumped into the river. 'Made a hole in the water'; that's how she calls
+it. She's a big strong girl; and they got her out, and saved her. She
+says it wasn't painful, till they brought her to again. I'm little and
+weak--I don't think they could bring _me_ to life, if they tried."
+
+Amelius made a futile attempt to reason with her. He even got so far as
+to tell her that she had done very wrong to leave the Home. Sally's
+answer set all further expostulation at defiance. Instead of attempting
+to defend herself, she sighed wearily, and said, "I had no money; I
+walked all the way here."
+
+The well-intended remonstrances of Amelius were lost in compassionate
+surprise. "You poor little soul!" he exclaimed, "it must be seven or
+eight miles at least!"
+
+"I dare say," said Sally. "It don't matter, now I've found you."
+
+"But how did you find me? Who told you where I lived?"
+
+She smiled, and took from her bosom the photograph of the cottage.
+
+"But Mrs. Payson cut off the address!" cried Amelius, bursting out with
+the truth in the impulse of the moment.
+
+Sally turned over the photograph, and pointed to the back of the card,
+on which the photographer's name and address were printed. "Mrs. Payson
+didn't think of this," she said shyly.
+
+"Did _you_ think of it?" Amelius asked.
+
+Sally shook her head. "I'm too stupid," she replied. "The girl who made
+the hole in the water put me up to it. 'Have you made up your mind to
+run away?' she says. And I said, 'Yes.' 'You go to the man who did the
+picture,' she says; 'he knows where the place is, I'll be bound.' I
+asked my way till I found him. And he did know. And he told me. He was
+a good sort; he gave me a glass of beer, he said I looked so tired. I
+said we'd go and have our portraits taken some day--you, and your
+servant. May I tell the funny old foreigner that he is to go away now I
+have come to you?" The complete simplicity with which she betrayed her
+jealousy of Toff made Amelius smile. Sally, watching every change in
+his face, instantly drew her own conclusion. "Ah!" she said cheerfully,
+"I'll keep your room cleaner than he keeps it! I smelt dust on the
+curtains when I was hiding from you."
+
+Amelius thought of his dream. "Did you come out while I was asleep?" he
+asked.
+
+"Yes; I wasn't frightened of you, when you were asleep. I had a good
+look at you; and I gave you a kiss." She made that confession without
+the slightest sign of confusion; her calm blue eyes looked him straight
+in the face. "You got restless," she went on; "and I got frightened
+again. I put out the lamp. I says to myself, 'If he does scold me, I
+can bear it better in the dark.'"
+
+Amelius listened, wondering. Had he seen drowsily what he thought he
+had dreamed, or was there some mysterious sympathy between Sally and
+himself? The occult speculations were interrupted by Sally. "May I take
+off my bonnet, and make myself tidy?" she asked. Some men might have
+said No. Amelius was not one of them.
+
+The library possessed a door of communication with the sitting-room;
+the bedchamber occupied by Amelius being on the other side of the
+cottage. When Sally saw Toff's reconstructed room, she stood at the
+door, in speechless admiration of the vision of luxury revealed to her.
+From time to time Amelius, alone in the library, heard her dabbling in
+her bath, and humming the artless old English song from which she had
+taken her name. Once she knocked at the closed door, and made a request
+through it--"There is scent on the table; may I have some?" And once
+Toff knocked at the other door, opening into the passage, and asked
+when "pretty young Miss" would be ready for supper. Events went on in
+the little household as if Sally had become an integral part of it
+already. "What _am_ I to do?" Amelius asked himself. And Toff, entering
+at the moment to lay the cloth, answered respectfully, "Hurry the young
+person, sir, or the salmi will be spoilt."
+
+She came out from her room, walking delicately on her sore feet--so
+fresh and charming, that Toff, absorbed in admiration, made a mistake
+in folding a napkin for the first time in his life. "Champagne, of
+course, sir?" he said in confidence to Amelius. The salmi of partridge
+appeared; the inspiriting wine sparkled in the glasses; Toff surpassed
+himself in all the qualities which made a servant invaluable at a
+supper table. Sally forgot the Home, forgot the cruel streets, and
+laughed and chattered as gaily as the happiest girl living. Amelius,
+expanding in the joyous atmosphere of youth and good spirits, shook off
+his sense of responsibility, and became once more the delightful
+companion who won everybody's love. The effervescent gaiety of the
+evening was at its climax; the awful forms of duty, propriety, and good
+sense had been long since laughed out of the room--when Nemesis,
+goddess of retribution, announced her arrival outside, by a crashing of
+carriage-wheels and a peremptory ring at the cottage bell.
+
+There was dead silence; Amelius and Sally looked at each other. The
+experienced Toff at once guessed what had happened. "Is it her father
+or mother?" he asked of Amelius, a little anxiously. Hearing that she
+had never even seen her father or mother, he snapped his fingers
+joyously, and led the way on tiptoe into the hall. "I have my idea," he
+whispered. "Let us listen."
+
+A woman's voice, high, clear, and resolute, speaking apparently to the
+coachman, was the next audible sound. "Say I come from Mrs. Payson, and
+must see Mr. Goldenheart directly." Sally trembled and turned pale.
+"The matron!" she said faintly. "Oh, don't let her in!" Amelius took
+the terrified girl back to the library. Toff followed them,
+respectfully asking to be told what a "matron" was. Receiving the
+necessary explanation, he expressed his contempt for matrons bent on
+carrying charming persons into captivity, by opening the library door
+and spitting into the hall. Having relieved his mind in this way, he
+returned to his master and laid a lank skinny forefinger cunningly
+along the side of his nose. "I suppose, sir, you don't want to see this
+furious woman?" he said. Before it was possible to say anything in
+reply, another ring at the bell announced that the furious woman wanted
+to see Amelius. Toff read his master's wishes in his master's face. Not
+even this emergency could find him unprepared: he was as ready to
+circumvent a matron as to cook a dinner. "The shutters are up, and the
+curtains are drawn," he reminded Amelius. "Not a morsel of light is
+visible outside. Let them ring--we have all gone to bed." He turned to
+Sally, grinning with impish enjoyment of his own stratagem. "Ha, Miss!
+what do you think of that?" There was a third pull at the bell as he
+spoke. "Ring away, Missess Matrone!" he cried. "We are fast
+asleep--wake us if you can." The fourth ring was the last. A sharp
+crack revealed the breaking of the bellwire, and was followed by the
+shrill fall of the iron handle on the pavement before the garden gate.
+The gate, like the palings, was protected at the top from invading
+cats. "Compose yourself, Miss," said Toff, "if she tries to get over
+the gate, she will stick on the spikes." In another moment, the sound
+of retiring carriage-wheels announced the defeat of the matron, and
+settled the serious question of receiving Sally for the night.
+
+She sat silent by the window, when Toff had left the room, holding back
+the curtains and looking out at the murky sky.
+
+"What are you looking for?" Amelius asked.
+
+"I was looking for the stars."
+
+Amelius joined her at the window. "There are no stars to be seen
+tonight."
+
+She let the curtain fall to again. "I was thinking of night-time at the
+Home," she said. "You see, I got on pretty well, in the day, with my
+reading and writing. I wanted so to improve myself. My mind was
+troubled with the fear of your despising such an ignorant creature as I
+am; so I kept on at my lessons. I thought I might surprise you by
+writing you a pretty letter some day. One of the teachers (she's gone
+away ill) was very good to me. I used to talk to her; and, when I said
+a wrong word, she took me up, and told me the right one. She said you
+would think better of me when you heard me speak properly--and I do
+speak better, don't I? All this was in the day. It was the night that
+was the hard time to get through--when the other girls were all asleep,
+and I had nothing to think of but how far away I was from you. I used
+to get up, and put the counterpane round me, and stand at the window.
+On fine nights the stars were company to me. There were two stars, near
+together, that I got to know. Don't laugh at me--I used to think one of
+them was you, and one of them me. I wondered whether you would die, or
+I should die, before I saw you again. And, most always, it was my star
+that went out first. Lord, how I used to cry! It got into my poor
+stupid head that I should never see you again. I do believe I ran away
+because of that. You won't tell anybody, will you? It was so foolish, I
+am ashamed of it now. I wanted to see your star and my star tonight. I
+don't know why. Oh, I'm so fond of you!" She dropped on her knees, and
+took his hand, and put it on her head. "It's burning hot," she said,
+"and your kind hand cools it."
+
+Amelius raised her gently, and led her to the door of her room. "My
+poor Sally, you are quite worn out. You want rest and sleep. Let us say
+good night."
+
+"I will do anything you tell me," she answered. "If Mrs. Payson comes
+tomorrow, you won't let her take me away? Thank you. Goodnight." She
+put her hands on his shoulders, with innocent familiarity, and lifted
+herself to him on tiptoe, and kissed him as a sister might have kissed
+him.
+
+Long after Sally was asleep in her bed, Amelius sat by the library
+fire, thinking.
+
+The revival of the crushed feeling and fancy in the girl's nature, so
+artlessly revealed in her sad little story of the stars that were
+"company to her," not only touched and interested him, but clouded his
+view of the future with doubts and anxieties which had never troubled
+him until that moment. The mysterious influences under which the girl's
+development was advancing were working morally and physically together.
+Weeks might pass harmlessly, months might pass harmlessly--but the time
+must come when the innocent relations between them would be beset by
+peril. Unable, as yet, fully to realize these truths, Amelius
+nevertheless felt them vaguely. His face was troubled, as he lit the
+candle at last to go to his bed. "I don't see my way as clearly as I
+could wish," he reflected. "How will it end?"
+
+How indeed!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 4
+
+At eight o'clock the next morning, Amelius was awakened by Toff. A
+letter had arrived, marked "Immediate," and the messenger was waiting
+for an answer.
+
+The letter was from Mrs. Payson. She wrote briefly, and in formal
+terms. After referring to the matron's fruitless visit to the cottage
+on the previous night, Mrs. Payson proceeded in these words:--"I
+request you will immediately let me know whether Sally has taken refuge
+with you, and has passed the night under your roof. If I am right in
+believing that she has done so, I have only to inform you that the
+doors of the Home are henceforth closed to her, in conformity with our
+rules. If I am wrong, it will be my painful duty to lose no time in
+placing the matter in the hands of the police."
+
+Amelius began his reply, acting on impulse as usual. He wrote,
+vehemently remonstrating with Mrs. Payson on the unforgiving and
+unchristian nature of the rules at the Home. Before he was halfway
+through his composition, the person who had brought the letter sent a
+message to say that he was expected back immediately, and that he hoped
+Mr. Goldenheart would not get a poor man into trouble by keeping him
+much longer. Checked in the full flow of his eloquence, Amelius angrily
+tore up the unfinished remonstrance, and matched Mrs. Payson's briefly
+business-like language by an answer in one line:--"I beg to inform you
+that you are quite right." On reflection, he felt that the second
+letter was not only discourteous as a reply to a lady, but also
+ungrateful as addressed to Mrs. Payson personally. At the third
+attempt, he wrote becomingly as well as briefly. "Sally has passed the
+night here, as my guest. She was suffering from severe fatigue; it
+would have been an act of downright inhumanity to send her away. I
+regret your decision, but of course I submit to it. You once said, you
+believed implicitly in the purity of my motives. Do me the justice,
+however you may blame my conduct, to believe in me still."
+
+Having despatched these lines, the mind of Amelius was at ease again,
+He went into the library, and listened to hear if Sally was moving. The
+perfect silence on the other side of the door informed him that the
+weary girl was still fast asleep. He gave directions that she was on no
+account to be disturbed, and sat down to breakfast by himself.
+
+While he was still at table, Toff appeared, with profound mystery in
+his manner, and discreet confidence in the tones of his voice. "Here's
+another one, sir!" the Frenchman announced, in his master's ear.
+
+"Another one?" Amelius repeated. "What do you mean?"
+
+"She is not like the sweet little sleeping Miss." Toff explained. "This
+time, sir, it's the beauty of the devil himself, as we say in France.
+She refuses to confide in me; and she appears to be agitated--both bad
+signs. Shall I get rid of her before the other Miss wakes?"
+
+"Hasn't she got a name?" Amelius asked.
+
+Toff answered, in his foreign accent, "One name only--Faybay."
+
+"Do you mean Phoebe?"
+
+"Have I not said it, sir?"
+
+"Show her in directly."
+
+Toff glanced at the door of Sally's room, shrugged his shoulders, and
+obeyed his instructions.
+
+Phoebe appeared, looking pale and anxious. Her customary assurance of
+manner had completely deserted her: she stopped in the doorway, as if
+she was afraid to enter the room.
+
+"Come in, and sit down," said Amelius. "What's the matter?"
+
+"I'm troubled in my mind, sir," Phoebe answered. "I know it's taking a
+liberty to come to you. But I went yesterday to ask Miss Regina's
+advice, and found she had gone abroad with her uncle. I have something
+to say about Mrs. Farnaby, sir; and there's no time to be lost in
+saying it. I know of nobody but you that I can speak to, now Miss
+Regina is away. The footman told me where you lived."
+
+She stopped, evidently in the greatest embarrassment. Amelius tried to
+encourage her. "If I can be of any use to Mrs. Farnaby," he said, "tell
+me at once what to do."
+
+Phoebe's eyes dropped before his straightforward look as he spoke to
+her.
+
+"I must ask you to please excuse my mentioning names, sir," she resumed
+confusedly. "There's a person I'm interested in, whom I wouldn't get
+into trouble for the whole world. He's been misled--I'm sure he's been
+misled by another person--a wicked drunken old woman, who ought to be
+in prison if she had her deserts. I'm not free from blame myself--I
+know I'm not. I listened, sir, to what I oughtn't to have heard; and I
+told it again (I'm sure in the strictest confidence, and not meaning
+anything wrong) to the person I've mentioned. Not the old women--I mean
+the person I'm interested in. I hope you understand me, sir? I wish to
+speak openly, excepting the names, on account of Mrs. Farnaby."
+
+Amelius thought of Phoebe's vindictive language the last time he had
+seen her. He looked towards a cabinet in a corner of the room, in which
+he had placed Mrs. Farnaby's letter. An instinctive distrust of his
+visitor began to rise in his mind. His manner altered--he turned to his
+plate, and went on with his breakfast. "Can't you speak to me plainly?"
+he said. "Is Mrs. Farnaby in any trouble?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"And can I do anything to help her out of it?"
+
+"I am sure you can, sir--if you only know where to find her."
+
+"I do know where to find her. She has written to tell me. The last time
+I saw you, you expressed yourself very improperly about Mrs. Farnaby;
+you spoke as if you meant some harm to her."
+
+"I mean nothing but good to her now, sir."
+
+"Very well, then. Can't you go and speak to her yourself, if I give you
+the address?"
+
+Phoebe's pale face flushed a little. "I couldn't do that, sir," she
+answered, "after the way Mrs. Farnaby has treated me. Besides, if she
+knew that I had listened to what passed between her and you--" She
+stopped again, more painfully embarrassed than ever.
+
+Amelius laid down his knife and fork. "Look here!" he said; "this sort
+of thing is not in my way. If you can't make a clean breast of it,
+let's talk of something else. I'm very much afraid," he went on, with
+his customary absence of all concealment, "you're not the harmless sort
+of girl I once took you for. What do you mean by 'what passed between
+Mrs. Farnaby and me'?"
+
+Phoebe put her handkerchief to her eyes. "It's very hard to speak to me
+so harshly," she said, "when I'm sorry for what I've done, and am only
+anxious to prevent harm coming of it."
+
+_"What_ have you done?" cried honest Amelius, weary of the woman's
+inveterately indirect way of explaining herself to him.
+
+The flash of his quick temper in his eyes, as he put that
+straightforward question, roused a responsive temper in Phoebe which
+stung her into speaking openly at last. She told Amelius what she had
+heard in the kitchen as plainly as she had told it to Jervy--with this
+one difference, that she spoke without insolence when she referred to
+Mrs. Farnaby.
+
+Listening in silence until she had done, Amelius started to his feet,
+and opening the cabinet, took from it Mrs. Farnaby's letter. He read
+the letter, keeping his back towards Phoebe--waited a moment
+thinking--and suddenly turned on the woman with a look that made her
+shrink in her chair. "You wretch!" he said; "you detestable wretch!"
+
+In the terror of the moment, Phoebe attempted to leave the room.
+Amelius stopped her instantly. "Sit down again," he said; "I mean to
+have the whole truth out of you, now."
+
+Phoebe recovered her courage. "You have had the whole truth, sir; I
+could tell you no more if I was on my deathbed."
+
+Amelius refused to believe her. "There is a vile conspiracy against
+Mrs. Farnaby," he said. "Do you mean to tell me you are not in it?"
+
+"So help me God, sir, I never even heard of it till yesterday!"
+
+The tone in which she spoke shook the conviction of Amelius; the
+indescribable ring of truth was in it.
+
+"There are two people who are cruelly deluding and plundering this poor
+lady," he went on. "Who are they?"
+
+"I told you, if you remember, that I couldn't mention names, sir."
+
+Amelius looked again at the letter. After what he had heard, there was
+no difficulty in identifying the invisible "young man," alluded to by
+Mrs. Farnaby, with the unnamed "person" in whom Phoebe was interested.
+Who was he? As the question passed through his mind, Amelius remembered
+the vagabond whom he had recognized with Phoebe, in the street. There
+was no doubt of it now--the man who was directing the conspiracy in the
+dark was Jervy! Amelius would unquestionably have been rash enough to
+reveal this discovery, if Phoebe had not stopped him. His renewed
+reference to Mrs. Farnaby's letter and his sudden silence after looking
+at it roused the woman's suspicions. "If you're planning to get my
+friend into trouble," she burst out, "not another word shall pass my
+lips!"
+
+Even Amelius profited by the warning which that threat unintentionally
+conveyed to him.
+
+"Keep your own secrets," he said; "I only want to spare Mrs. Farnaby a
+dreadful disappointment. But I must know what I am talking about when I
+go to her. Can't you tell me how you found out this abominable
+swindle?"
+
+Phoebe was perfectly willing to tell him. Interpreting her long
+involved narrative into plain English, with the names added, these were
+the facts related:--Mrs. Sowler, bearing in mind some talk which had
+passed between them on the occasion of a supper, had called at Phoebe's
+lodgings on the previous day, and had tried to entrap her into
+communicating what she knew of Mrs. Farnaby's secrets. The trap
+failing, Mrs. Sowler had tried bribery next; had promised Phoebe a
+large sum of money, to be equally divided between them, if she would
+only speak; had declared that Jervy was perfectly capable of breaking
+his promise of marriage, and "leaving them both in the lurch, if he
+once got the money into his own pocket" and had thus informed Phoebe,
+that the conspiracy, which she supposed to have been abandoned, was
+really in full progress, without her knowledge. She had temporised with
+Mrs. Sowler, being afraid to set such a person openly at defiance; and
+had hurried away at once, to have an explanation with Jervy. He was
+reported to be "not at home." Her fruitless visit to Regina had
+followed--and there, so far as facts were concerned, was an end of the
+story.
+
+Amelius asked her no questions, and spoke as briefly as possible when
+she had done. "I will go to Mrs. Farnaby this morning," was all he
+said.
+
+"Would you please let me hear how it ends?" Phoebe asked.
+
+Amelius pushed his pocket-book and pencil across the table to her,
+pointing to a blank leaf on which she could write her address. While
+she was thus employed the attentive Toff came in, and (with his eye on
+Phoebe) whispered in his master's ear. He had heard Sally moving about.
+Would it be more convenient, under the circumstances, if she had her
+breakfast in her own room? Toff's astonishment was a sight to see when
+Amelius answered, "Certainly not. Let her breakfast here."
+
+Phoebe rose to go. Her parting words revealed the double-sided nature
+that was in her; the good and evil in perpetual conflict which should
+be uppermost.
+
+"Please don't mention me, sir, to Mrs. Farnaby," she said. "I don't
+forgive her for what she's done to me; I don't say I won't be even with
+her yet. But not in _that_ way! I won't have her death laid at my door.
+Oh, but I know her temper--and I say it's as likely as not to kill her
+or drive her mad, if she isn't warned about it in time. Never mind her
+losing her money. If it's lost, it's lost, and she's got plenty more.
+She may be robbed a dozen times over for all I care. But don't let her
+set her heart on seeing her child, and then find it's all a swindle. I
+hate her; but I can't and won't, let _that_ go on. Good-morning, sir."
+
+Amelius was relieved by her departure. For a minute or two, he sat
+absently stirring his coffee, and considering how he might most safely
+perform the terrible duty of putting Mrs. Farnaby on her guard. Toff
+interrupted his meditations by preparing the table for Sally's
+breakfast; and, almost at the same moment, Sally herself, fresh and
+rosy, opened her door a little way, and looked in.
+
+"You have had a fine long sleep," said Amelius. "Have you quite got
+over your walk yesterday?"
+
+"Oh yes," she answered gaily; "I only feel my long walk now in my feet.
+It hurts me to put my boots on. Can you lend me a pair of slippers?"
+
+"A pair of my slippers? Why, Sally, you would be lost in them! What's
+the matter with your feet?"
+
+"They're both sore. And I think one of them has got a blister on it."
+
+"Come in, and let's have a look at it?"
+
+She came limping in, with her feet bare. "Don't scold me," she pleaded,
+"I couldn't put my stockings on again, without washing them; and
+they're not dry yet."
+
+"I'll get you new stockings and slippers," said Amelius. "Which is the
+foot with the blister?"
+
+"The left foot," she answered, pointing to it.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 5
+
+"Let me see the blister," said Amelius.
+
+Sally looked longingly at the fire.
+
+"May I warm my feet first?" she asked; "they are so cold."
+
+In those words she innocently deferred the discovery which, if it had
+been made at the moment, might have altered the whole after-course of
+events. Amelius only thought now of preventing her from catching cold.
+He sent Toff for a pair of the warmest socks that he possessed, and
+asked if he should put them on for her. She smiled, and shook her head,
+and put them on for herself.
+
+When they had done laughing at the absurd appearance of the little feet
+in the large socks, they only drifted farther and farther away from the
+subject of the blistered foot. Sally remembered the terrible matron,
+and asked if anything had been heard of her that morning. Being told
+that Mrs. Payson had written, and that the doors of the institution
+were closed to her, she recovered her spirits, and began to wonder
+whether the offended authorities would let her have her clothes. Toff
+offered to go and make the inquiry, later in the day; suggesting the
+purchase of slippers and stockings, in the mean time, while Sally was
+having her breakfast. Amelius approved of the suggestion; and Toff set
+off on his errand, with one of Sally's boots for a pattern.
+
+The morning had, by that time, advanced to ten o'clock.
+
+Amelius stood before the fire talking, while Sally had her breakfast.
+Having first explained the reasons which made it impossible that she
+should live at the cottage in the capacity of his servant, he
+astonished her by announcing that he meant to undertake the
+superintendence of her education himself. They were to be master and
+pupil, while the lessons were in progress; and brother and sister at
+other times--and they were to see how they got on together, on this
+plan, without indulging in any needless anxiety about the future.
+Amelius believed with perfect sincerity that he had hit on the only
+sensible arrangement, under the circumstances; and Sally cried
+joyously, "Oh, how good you are to me; the happy life has come at
+last!" At the hour when those words passed the daughter's lips, the
+discovery of the conspiracy burst upon the mother in all its baseness
+and in all its horror.
+
+The suspicion of her infamous employer, which had induced Mrs. Sowler
+to attempt to intrude herself into Phoebe's confidence, led her to make
+a visit of investigation at Jervy's lodgings later in the day.
+Informed, as Phoebe had been informed, that he was not at home, she
+called again some hours afterwards. By that time, the landlord had
+discovered that Jervy's luggage had been secretly conveyed away, and
+that his tenant had left him, in debt for rent of the two best rooms in
+the house.
+
+No longer in any doubt of what had happened, Mrs. Sowler employed the
+remaining hours of the evening in making inquiries after the missing
+man. Not a trace of him had been discovered up to eight o'clock on the
+next morning.
+
+Shortly after nine o'clock--that is to say, towards the hour at which
+Phoebe paid her visit to Amelius--Mrs. Sowler, resolute to know the
+worst, made her appearance at the apartments occupied by Mrs. Farnaby.
+
+"I wish to speak to you," she began abruptly, "about that young man we
+both know of. Have you seen anything of him lately?"
+
+Mrs. Farnaby, steadily on her guard, deferred answering the question.
+"Why do you want to know?" she said.
+
+The reply was instantly ready. "Because I have reason to believe he has
+bolted, with your money in his pocket."
+
+"He has done nothing of the sort," Mrs. Farnaby rejoined.
+
+"Has he got your money?" Mrs. Sowler persisted. "Tell me the truth--and
+I'll do the same by you. He has cheated me. If you're cheated too, it's
+your own interest to lose no time in finding him. The police may catch
+him yet. _Has_ he got your money?"
+
+The woman was in earnest--in terrible earnest--her eyes and her voice
+both bore witness to it. She stood there, the living impersonation of
+those doubts and fears which Mrs. Farnaby had confessed, in writing to
+Amelius. Her position, at that moment, was essentially a position of
+command. Mrs. Farnaby felt it in spite of herself. She acknowledged
+that Jervy had got the money.
+
+"Did you sent it to him, or give it to him?" Mrs. Sowler asked.
+
+"I gave it to him."
+
+"When?"
+
+"Yesterday evening."
+
+Mrs. Sowler clenched her fists, and shook them in impotent rage. "He's
+the biggest scoundrel living," she exclaimed furiously; "and you're the
+biggest fool! Put on your bonnet and come to the police. If you get
+your money back again before he's spent it all, don't forget it was
+through me."
+
+The audacity of the woman's language roused Mrs. Farnaby. She pointed
+to the door. "You are an insolent creature," she said; "I have nothing
+more to do with you."
+
+"You have nothing more to do with me?" Mrs. Sowler repeated. "You and
+the young man have settled it all between you, I suppose." She laughed
+scornfully. "I dare say now you expect to see him again?"
+
+Mrs. Farnaby was irritated into answering this. "I expect to see him
+this morning," she said, "at ten o'clock."
+
+"And the lost young lady with him?"
+
+"Say nothing about my lost daughter! I won't even hear you speak of
+her."
+
+Mrs. Sowler sat down. "Look at your watch," she said. "It must be nigh
+on ten o'clock by this time. You'll make a disturbance in the house if
+you try to turn me out. I mean to wait here till ten o'clock."
+
+On the point of answering angrily, Mrs. Farnaby restrained herself.
+"You are trying to force a quarrel on me," she said; "you shan't spoil
+the happiest morning of my life. Wait here by yourself."
+
+She opened the door that led into her bedchamber, and shut herself in.
+Perfectly impenetrable to any repulse that could be offered to her,
+Mrs. Sowler looked at the closed door with a sardonic smile, and
+waited.
+
+The clock in the hall struck ten. Mrs. Farnaby returned again to the
+sitting-room, walked straight to the window, and looked out.
+
+"Any sign of him?" said Mrs. Sowler.
+
+There were no signs of him. Mrs. Farnaby drew a chair to the window,
+and sat down. Her hands turned icy cold. She still looked out into the
+street.
+
+"I'm going to guess what's happened," Mrs. Sowler resumed. "I'm a
+sociable creature, you know, and I must talk about something. About the
+money, now? Has the young man had his travelling expenses of you? To go
+to foreign parts, and bring your girl back with him, eh? I expect
+that's how it was. You see, I know him so well. And what happened, if
+you please, yesterday evening? Did he tell you he'd brought her back,
+and got her at his own place? And did he say he wouldn't let you see
+her till you paid him his reward as well as his travelling expenses?
+And did you forget my warning to you not to trust him? I'm a good one
+at guessing when I try. I see you think so yourself. Any signs of him
+yet?"
+
+Mrs. Farnaby looked round from the window. Her manner was completely
+changed; she was nervously civil to the wretch who was torturing her.
+"I beg your pardon, ma'am, if I have offended you," she said faintly.
+"I am a little upset--I am so anxious about my poor child. Perhaps you
+are a mother yourself? You oughtn't to frighten me; you ought to feel
+for me." She paused, and put her hand to her head. "He told me
+yesterday evening," she went on slowly and vacantly, "that my poor
+darling was at his lodgings; he said she was so worn out with the long
+journey from abroad, that she must have a night's rest before she could
+come to me. I asked him to tell me where he lived, and let me go to
+her. He said she was asleep and must not be disturbed. I promised to go
+in on tiptoe, and only look at her; I offered him more money, double
+the money to tell me where she was. He was very hard on me. He only
+said, wait till ten tomorrow morning--and wished me goodnight. I ran
+out to follow him, and fell on the stairs, and hurt myself. The people
+of the house were very kind to me." She turned her head back towards
+the window, and looked out into the street again. "I must be patient,"
+she said; "he's only a little late."
+
+Mrs. Sowler rose, and tapped her smartly on the shoulder. "Lies!" she
+burst out. "He knows no more where your daughter is than I do--and he's
+off with your money!"
+
+The woman's hateful touch struck out a spark of the old fire in Mrs.
+Farnaby. Her natural force of character asserted itself once more.
+_"You_ lie!" she rejoined. "Leave the room!"
+
+The door was opened, while she spoke. A respectable woman-servant came
+in with a letter. Mrs. Farnaby took it mechanically, and looked at the
+address. Jervy's feigned handwriting was familiar to her. In the
+instant when she recognized it, the life seemed to go out of her like
+an extinguished light. She stood pale and still and silent, with the
+unopened letter in her hand.
+
+Watching her with malicious curiosity, Mrs. Sowler coolly possessed
+herself of the letter, looked at it, and recognized the writing in her
+turn. "Stop!" she cried, as the servant was on the point of going out.
+"There's no stamp on this letter. Was it brought by hand? Is the
+messenger waiting?"
+
+The respectable servant showed her opinion of Mrs. Sowler plainly in
+her face. She replied as briefly and as ungraciously as
+possible:--"No."
+
+"Man or woman?" was the next question.
+
+"Am I to answer this person, ma'am?" said the servant, looking at Mrs.
+Farnaby.
+
+"Answer me instantly," Mrs. Sowler interposed--"in Mrs. Farnaby's own
+interests. Don't you see she can't speak to you herself?"
+
+"Well, then," said the servant, "it was a man."
+
+"A man with a squint?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Which way did he go?"
+
+"Towards the square."
+
+Mrs. Sowler tossed the letter on the table, and hurried out of the
+room. The servant approached Mrs. Farnaby. "You haven't opened your
+letter yet, ma'am," she said.
+
+"No," said Mrs. Farnaby vacantly, "I haven't opened it yet."
+
+"I'm afraid it's bad news, ma'am?"
+
+"Yes. I think it's bad news."
+
+"Is there anything I can do for you?"
+
+"No, thank you. Yes; one thing. Open my letter for me, please."
+
+It was a strange request to make. The servant wondered, and obeyed. She
+was a kind-hearted woman; she really felt for the poor lady. But the
+familiar household devil, whose name is Curiosity, and whose
+opportunities are innumerable, prompted her next words when she had
+taken the letter out of the envelope:--"Shall I read it to you, ma'am?"
+
+"No. Put it down on the table, please. I'll ring when I want you."
+
+The mother was alone--alone, with her death-warrant waiting for her on
+the table.
+
+The clock downstairs struck the half hour after ten. She moved, for the
+first time since she had received the letter. Once more she went to the
+window, and looked out. It was only for a moment. She turned away
+again, with a sudden contempt for herself. "What a fool I am!" she
+said--and took up the open letter.
+
+She looked at it, and put it down again. "Why should I read it," she
+asked herself, "when I know what is in it, without reading?"
+
+Some framed woodcuts from the illustrated newspapers were hung on the
+walls. One of them represented a scene of rescue from shipwreck. A
+mother embracing her daughter, saved by the lifeboat, was among the
+foreground groups. The print was entitled, "The Mercy of Providence."
+Mrs. Farnaby looked at it with a moment's steady attention. "Providence
+has its favourites," she said; "I am not one of them."
+
+After thinking a little, she went into her bedroom, and took two papers
+out of her dressing-case. They were medical prescriptions.
+
+She turned next to the chimneypiece. Two medicine-bottles were placed
+on it. She took one of them down--a bottle of the ordinary size, known
+among chemists as a six-ounce bottle. It contained a colourless liquid.
+The label stated the dose to be "two table-spoonfuls," and bore, as
+usual, a number corresponding with a number placed on the prescription.
+She took up the prescription. It was a mixture of bi-carbonate of soda
+and prussic acid, intended for the relief of indigestion. She looked at
+the date, and was at once reminded of one of the very rare occasions on
+which she had required the services of a medical man. There had been a
+serious accident at a dinner-party, given by some friends. She had
+eaten sparingly of a certain dish, from which some of the other guests
+had suffered severely. It was discovered that the food had been cooked
+in an old copper saucepan. In her case, the trifling result had been a
+disturbance of digestion, and nothing more. The doctor had prescribed
+accordingly. She had taken but one dose: with her healthy constitution
+she despised physic. The remainder of the mixture was still in the
+bottle.
+
+She considered again with herself--then went back to the chimneypiece,
+and took down the second bottle.
+
+It contained a colourless liquid also; but it was only half the size of
+the first bottle, and not a drop had been taken. She waited, observing
+the difference between the two bottles with extraordinary attention. In
+this case also, the prescription was in her possession--but it was not
+the original. A line at the top stated that it was a copy made by the
+chemist, at the request of a customer. It bore the date of more than
+three years since. A morsel of paper was pinned to the prescription,
+containing some lines in a woman's handwriting:--"With your enviable
+health and strength, my dear, I should have thought you were the last
+person in the world to want a tonic. However, here is my prescription,
+if you must have it. Be very careful to take the right dose, because
+there's poison in it." The prescription contained three ingredients,
+strychnine, quinine, and nitro-hydrochloric acid; and the dose was
+fifteen drops in water. Mrs. Farnaby lit a match, and burnt the lines
+of her friend's writing. "As long ago as that," she reflected, "I
+thought of killing myself. Why didn't I do it?"
+
+The paper having been destroyed, she put back the prescription for
+indigestion in her dressing-case; hesitated for a moment; and opened
+the bedroom window. It looked into a lonely little courtyard. She threw
+the dangerous contents of the second and smaller bottle out into the
+yard--and then put it back empty on the chimneypiece. After another
+moment of hesitation, she returned to the sitting-room, with the bottle
+of mixture, and the copied prescription for the tonic strychnine drops,
+in her hand.
+
+She put the bottle on the table, and advanced to the fireplace to ring
+the bell. Warm as the room was, she began to shiver. Did the eager life
+in her feel the fatal purpose that she was meditating, and shrink from
+it? Instead of ringing the bell, she bent over the fire, trying to warm
+herself.
+
+"Other women would get relief in crying," she thought. "I wish I was
+like other women!"
+
+The whole sad truth about herself was in that melancholy aspiration. No
+relief in tears, no merciful oblivion in a fainting-fit, for _her._ The
+terrible strength of the vital organization in this woman knew no
+yielding to the unutterable misery that wrung her to the soul. It
+roused its glorious forces to resist: it held her in a stony quiet,
+with a grip of iron.
+
+She turned away from the fire wondering at herself. "What baseness is
+there in me that fears death? What have I got to live for _now?"_ The
+open letter on the table caught her eye. "This will do it!" she
+said--and snatched it up, and read it at last.
+
+"The least I can do for you is to act like a gentleman, and spare you
+unnecessary suspense. You will not see me this morning at ten, for the
+simple reason that I really don't know, and never did know, where to
+find your daughter. I wish I was rich enough to return the money. Not
+being able to do that, I will give you a word of advice instead. The
+next time you confide any secrets of yours to Mr. Goldenheart, take
+better care that no third person hears you."
+
+She read those atrocious lines, without any visible disturbance of the
+dreadful composure that possessed her. Her mind made no effort to
+discover the person who had listened and betrayed her. To all ordinary
+curiosities, to all ordinary emotions, she was morally dead already.
+
+The one thought in her was a thought that might have occurred to a man.
+"If I only had my hands on his throat, how I could wring the life out
+of him! As it is--" Instead of pursuing the reflection, she threw the
+letter into the fire, and rang the bell.
+
+"Take this at once to the nearest chemist's," she said, giving the
+strychnine prescription to the servant; "and wait, please, and bring it
+back with you."
+
+She opened her desk, when she was alone, and tore up the letters and
+papers in it. This done, she took her pen, and wrote a letter. It was
+addressed to Amelius.
+
+When the servant entered the room again, bringing with her the
+prescription made up, the clock downstairs struck eleven.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 6
+
+Toff returned to the cottage, with the slippers and the stockings.
+
+"What a time you have been gone!" said Amelius.
+
+"It is not my fault, sir," Toff explained. "The stockings I obtained
+without difficulty. But the nearest shoe shop in this neighbourhood
+sold only coarse manufactures, and all too large. I had to go to my
+wife, and get her to take me to the right place. See!" he exclaimed,
+producing a pair of quilted silk slippers with blue rosettes, "here is
+a design, that is really worthy of pretty feet. Try them on, Miss."
+
+Sally's eyes sparkled at the sight of the slippers. She rose at once,
+and limped away to her room. Amelius, observing that she still walked
+in pain, called her back. "I had forgotten the blister," he said.
+"Before you put on the new stockings, Sally, let me see your foot." He
+turned to Toff. "You're always ready with everything," he went on; "I
+wonder whether you have got a needle and a bit of worsted thread?"
+
+The old Frenchman answered, with an air of respectful reproach.
+"Knowing me, sir, as you do," he said, "could you doubt for a moment
+that I mend my own clothes and darn my own stockings?" He withdrew to
+his bedroom below, and returned with a leather roll. "When you are
+ready, sir?" he said, opening the roll at the table, and threading the
+needle, while Sally removed the sock from her left foot.
+
+She took a chair near the window, at the suggestion of Amelius. He
+knelt down so as to raise her foot to his knee. "Turn a little more
+towards the light," he said. He took the foot in his hand, lifted it,
+looked at it--and suddenly let it drop back on the floor.
+
+A cry of alarm from Sally instantly brought Toff to the window. "Oh,
+look!" she cried; "he's ill!" Toff lifted Amelius to a chair. "For
+God's sake, sir," cried the terrified old man, "what's the matter?"
+Amelius had turned to the strange ashy paleness which is only seen in
+men of his florid complexion, overwhelmed by sudden emotion. He
+stammered when he tried to speak. "Fetch the brandy!" said Toff,
+pointing to the liqueur-case on the sideboard. Sally brought it at
+once; the strong stimulant steadied Amelius.
+
+"I'm sorry to have frightened you," he said faintly. "Sally!--Dear,
+dear little Sally, go in, and get your things on directly. You must
+come out with me; I'll tell you why afterwards. My God! why didn't I
+find this out before?" He noticed Toff, wondering and trembling. "Good
+old fellow! don't alarm yourself--you shall know about it, too. Go!
+run! get the first cab you can find!"
+
+Left alone for a few minutes, he had time to compose himself. He did
+his best to take advantage of the time; he tried to prepare his mind
+for the coming interview with Mrs. Farnaby. "I must be careful of what
+I do," he thought, conscious of the overwhelming effect of the
+discovery on himself; "She doesn't expect _me_ to bring her daughter to
+her."
+
+Sally returned to him, ready to go out. She seemed to be afraid of him,
+when he approached her, and took her hand. "Have I done anything
+wrong?" she asked, in her childish way. "Are you going to take me to
+some other Home?" The tone and look with which she put the question
+burst through the restraints which Amelius had imposed on himself for
+her sake. "My dear child!" he said, "can you bear a great surprise? I'm
+dying to tell you the truth--and I hardly dare do it." He took her in
+his arms. She trembled piteously. Instead of answering him, she
+reiterated her question, "Are you going to take me to some other Home?"
+He could endure it no longer. "This is the happiest day of your life,
+Sally!" he cried; "I am going to take you to your mother."
+
+He held her close to him, and looked at her in dread of having spoken
+too plainly.
+
+She slowly lifted her eyes to him in vacant fear and surprise; she
+burst into no expression of delight; no overwhelming emotion made her
+sink fainting in his arms. The sacred associations which gather round
+the mere name of Mother were associations unknown to her; the man who
+held her to him so tenderly, the hero who had pitied and saved her, was
+father and mother both to her simple mind. She dropped her head on his
+breast; her faltering voice told him that she was crying. "Will my
+mother take me away from you?" she asked. "Oh, do promise to bring me
+back with you to the cottage!"
+
+For the moment, and the moment only, Amelius was disappointed in her.
+The generous sympathies in his nature guided him unerringly to the
+truer view. He remembered what her life had been. Inexpressible pity
+for her filled his heart. "Oh, my poor Sally, the time is coming when
+you will not think as you think now! I will do nothing to distress you.
+You mustn't cry--you must be happy, and loving and true to your
+mother." She dried her eyes, "I'll do anything you tell me," she said,
+"as long as you bring me back with you."
+
+Amelius sighed, and said no more. He took her out with him gravely and
+silently, when the cab was announced to be ready. "Double your fare,"
+he said, when he gave the driver his instructions, "if you get there in
+a quarter of an hour." It wanted twenty-five minutes to twelve when the
+cab left the cottage.
+
+At that moment, the contrast of feeling between the two could hardly
+have been more strongly marked. In proportion as Amelius became more
+and more agitated, so Sally recovered the composure and confidence that
+she had lost. The first question she put to him related, not to her
+mother, but to his strange behaviour when he had knelt down to look at
+her foot. He answered, explaining to her briefly and plainly what his
+conduct meant. The description of what had passed between her mother
+and Amelius interested and yet perplexed her. "How can she be so fond
+of me, without knowing anything about me for all those years?" she
+asked. "Is my mother a lady? Don't tell her where you found me; she
+might be ashamed of me." She paused, and looked at Amelius anxiously.
+"Are you vexed about something? May I take hold of your hand?" Amelius
+gave her his hand; and Sally was satisfied.
+
+As the cab drew up at the house, the door was opened from within. A
+gentleman, dressed in black, hurriedly came out; looked at Amelius; and
+spoke to him as he stepped from the cab to the pavement.
+
+"I beg your pardon, sir. May I ask if you are any relative of the lady
+who lives in this house?"
+
+"No relative," Amelius answered. "Only a friend, who brings good news
+to her."
+
+The stranger's grave face suddenly became compassionate as well as
+grave. "I must speak with you before you go upstairs," he said,
+lowering his voice as he looked at Sally, still seated in the cab. "You
+will perhaps excuse the liberty I am taking, when I tell you that I am
+a medical man. Come into the hall for a moment--and don't bring the
+young lady with you."
+
+Amelius told Sally to wait in the cab. She saw his altered looks, and
+entreated him not to leave her. He promised to keep the house door open
+so that she could see him while he was away from her, and hastened into
+the hall.
+
+"I am sorry to say I have bad, very bad, news for you," the doctor
+began. "Time is of serious importance--I must speak plainly. You have
+heard of mistakes made by taking the wrong bottle of medicine? The poor
+lady upstairs is, I fear, in a dying state, from an accident of that
+sort. Try to compose yourself. You may really be of use to me, if you
+are firm enough to take my place while I am away."
+
+Amelius steadied himself instantly. "What I can do, I will do," he
+answered.
+
+The doctor looked at him. "I believe you," he said. "Now listen. In
+this case, a dose limited to fifteen drops has been confounded with a
+dose of two table-spoonsful; and the drug taken by mistake is
+strychnine. One grain of the poison has been known to prove fatal--she
+has taken three. The convulsion fits have begun. Antidotes are out of
+the question--the poor creature can swallow nothing. I have heard of
+opium as a possible means of relief; and I am going to get the
+instrument for injecting it under the skin. Not that I have much belief
+in the remedy; but I must try something. Have you courage enough to
+hold her, if another of the convulsions comes on in my absence?"
+
+"Will it relieve her, if I hold her?" Amelius, asked.
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"Then I promise to do it."
+
+"Mind! you must do it thoroughly. There are only two women upstairs;
+both perfectly useless in this emergency. If she shrieks to you to be
+held, exert your strength--take her with a firm grasp. If you only
+touch her (I can't explain it, but it is so), you will make matters
+worse."
+
+The servant ran downstairs, while he was speaking. "Don't leave us,
+sir--I'm afraid it's coming on again."
+
+"This gentleman will help you, while I am away," said the doctor. "One
+word more," he went on, addressing Amelius. "In the intervals between
+the fits, she is perfectly conscious; able to listen, and even to
+speak. If she has any last wishes to communicate, make good use of the
+time. She may die of exhaustion, at any moment. I will be back
+directly."
+
+He hurried to the door.
+
+"Take my cab," said Amelius, "and save time."
+
+"But the young lady--"
+
+"Leave her to me." He opened the cab door, and gave his hand to Sally.
+It was done in a moment. The doctor drove off.
+
+Amelius saw the servant waiting for them in the hall. He spoke to
+Sally, telling her, considerately and gently, what he had heard, before
+he took her into the house. "I had such good hopes for you," he said;
+"and it has come to this dreadful end! Have you courage to go through
+with it, if I take you to her bedside? You will be glad one day, my
+dear, to remember that you cheered your mother's last moments on
+earth."
+
+Sally put her hand in his. "I will go anywhere," she said softly, "with
+You."
+
+Amelius led her into the house. The servant, in pity for her youth,
+ventured on a word of remonstrance. "Oh, sir, you're not going to let
+the poor young lady see that dreadful sight upstairs!"
+
+"You mean well," Amelius answered; "and I thank you. If you knew what I
+know, you would take her upstairs, too. Show the way."
+
+Sally looked at him in silent awe as they followed the servant
+together. He was not like the same man. His brows were knit; his lips
+were fast set; he held the girl's hand in a grip that hurt her. The
+latent strength of will in him--that reserved resolution, so finely and
+firmly entwined in the natures of sensitively organized men--was
+rousing itself to meet the coming trial. The doctor would have doubly
+believed in him, if the doctor had seen him at that moment.
+
+They reached the first-floor landing.
+
+Before the servant could open the drawing-room door, a shriek rang
+frightfully through the silence of the house. The servant drew back,
+and crouched trembling on the upper stairs. At the same moment, the
+door was flung open, and another woman ran out, wild with terror. "I
+can't bear it!" she cried, and rushed up the stairs, blind to the
+presence of strangers in the panic that possessed her. Amelius entered
+the drawing-room, with his arm round Sally, holding her up. As he
+placed her in a chair, the dreadful cry was renewed. He only waited to
+rouse and encourage her by a word and a look--and ran into the bedroom.
+
+For an instant, and an instant only, he stood horror-struck in the
+presence of the poisoned woman.
+
+The fell action of the strychnine wrung every muscle in her with the
+torture of convulsion. Her hands were fast clenched; her head was bent
+back: her body, rigid as a bar of iron, was arched upwards from the
+bed, resting on the two extremities of the head and the heels: the
+staring eyes, the dusky face, the twisted lips, the clenched teeth,
+were frightful to see. He faced it. After the one instant of
+hesitation, he faced it.
+
+Before she could cry out again, his hands were on her. The whole
+exertion of his strength was barely enough to keep the frenzied throbs
+of the convulsion, as it reached its climax, from throwing her off the
+bed. Through the worst of it, he was still equal to the trust that had
+been placed in him, still faithful to the work of mercy. Little by
+little, he felt the lessening resistance of the rigid body, as the
+paroxysm began to subside. He saw the ghastly stare die out of her
+eyes, and the twisted lips relax from their dreadful grin. The tortured
+body sank, and rested; the perspiration broke out on her face; her
+languid hands fell gently over on the bed. For a while, the heavy
+eyelids closed--then opened again feebly. She looked at him. "Do you
+know me?" he asked, bending over her. And she answered in a faint
+whisper, "Amelius!"
+
+He knelt down by her, and kissed her hand. "Can you listen, if I tell
+you something?"
+
+She breathed heavily; her bosom heaved under the suffocating oppression
+that weighed upon it. As he took her in his arms to raise her in the
+bed, Sally's voice reached him, in low imploring tones, from the next
+room. "Oh, let me come to you! I'm so frightened here by myself."
+
+He waited, before he told her to come in, looking for a moment at the
+face that was resting on his breast. A gray shadow was stealing over
+it; a cold and clammy moisture struck a chill through him as he put his
+hand on her forehead. He turned towards the next room. The girl had
+ventured as far as the door; he beckoned to her. She came in timidly,
+and stood by him, and looked at her mother. Amelius signed to her to
+take his place. "Put your arms round her," he whispered. "Oh, Sally,
+tell her who you are in a kiss!" The girl's tears fell fast as she
+pressed her lips on her mother's cheek. The dying woman looked at her,
+with a glance of helpless inquiry--then looked at Amelius. The doubt in
+her eyes was too dreadful to be endured. Arranging the pillows so that
+she could keep her raised position in the bed, he signed to Sally to
+approach him, and removed the slipper from her left foot. As he took it
+off, he looked again at the bed--looked and shuddered. In a moment
+more, it might be too late. With his knife he ripped up the stocking,
+and, lifting her on the bed, put her bare foot on her mother's lap.
+"Your child! your child!" he cried; "I've found your own darling! For
+God's sake, rouse yourself! Look!"
+
+She heard him. She lifted her feebly declining head. She looked. She
+knew.
+
+For one awful moment, the sinking vital forces rallied, and hurled back
+the hold of Death. Her eyes shone radiant with the divine light of
+maternal love; an exulting cry of rapture burst from her. Slowly, very
+slowly, she bent forward, until her face rested on her daughter's foot.
+With a faint sigh of ecstasy she kissed it. The moments passed--and the
+bent head was raised no more. The last beat of the heart was a beat of
+joy.
+
+
+
+BOOK THE EIGHTH
+
+DAME NATURE DECIDES
+
+CHAPTER 1
+
+The day which had united the mother and daughter, only to part them
+again in this world for ever, had advanced to evening.
+
+Amelius and Sally were together again in the cottage, sitting by the
+library fire. The silence in the room was uninterrupted. On the open
+desk, near Amelius, lay the letter which Mrs. Farnaby had written to
+him on the morning of her death.
+
+He had found the letter--with the envelope unfastened--on the floor of
+the bedchamber, and had fortunately secured it before the landlady and
+the servant had ventured back to the room. The doctor, returning a few
+minutes afterwards, had warned the two women that a coroner's inquest
+would be held in the house, and had vainly cautioned them to be careful
+of what they said or did in the interval. Not only the subject of the
+death, but a discovery which had followed, revealing the name of the
+ill-fated woman marked on her linen, and showing that she had used an
+assumed name in taking the lodgings as Mrs. Ronald, became the gossip
+of the neighbourhood in a few hours. Under these circumstances, the
+catastrophe was made the subject of a paragraph in the evening
+journals; the name being added for the information of any surviving
+relatives who might be ignorant of the sad event. If the landlady had
+found the letter, that circumstance also would in all probability, have
+formed part of the statement in the newspapers, and the secret of Mrs.
+Farnaby's life and death would have been revealed to the public view.
+
+"I can trust you, and you only," she wrote to Amelius, "to fulfil the
+last wishes of a dying woman. You know me, and you know how I looked
+forward to the prospect of a happy life in retirement with my child.
+The one hope that I lived for has proved to be a cruel delusion. I have
+only this morning discovered, beyond the possibility of doubt, that I
+have been made the victim of wretches who have deliberately lied to me
+from first to last. If I had been a happier woman, I might have had
+other interests to sustain me under this frightful disaster. Such as I
+am, Death is my one refuge left.
+
+"My suicide will be known to no creature but yourself. Some years
+since, the idea of self destruction--concealed under the disguise of a
+common mistake--presented itself to my mind. I kept the means, very
+simple means, by me, thinking I might end in that way after all. When
+you read this I shall be at rest for ever. You will do what I have yet
+to ask of you, in merciful remembrance of me--I am sure of that.
+
+"You have a long life before you, Amelius. My foolish fancy about you
+and my lost girl still lingers in my mind; I still think it may be just
+possible that you may meet with her, in the course of years.
+
+"If this does happen, I implore you, by the tenderness and pity that
+you once felt for me, to tell no human creature that she is my
+daughter; and, if John Farnaby is living at the time, I forbid you,
+with the authority of a dying friend, to let her see him, or to let her
+know even that such a person exists. Are you at a loss to account for
+my motives? I may make the shameful confession which will enlighten
+you, now I know that we shall never meet again. My child was born
+before my marriage; and the man who afterwards became my husband--a man
+of low origin, I should tell you--was the father. He had calculated on
+this disgraceful circumstance to force my parents to make his fortune,
+by making me his wife. I now know, what I only vaguely suspected
+before, that he deliberately abandoned his child, as a likely cause of
+hindrance and scandal in the way of his prosperous career in life. Do
+you now think I am asking too much, when I entreat you never even to
+speak to my lost darling of this unnatural wretch? As for my own fair
+fame, I am not thinking of myself. With Death close at my side, I think
+of my poor mother, and of all that she suffered and sacrificed to save
+me from the disgrace that I had deserved. For her sake, not for mine,
+keep silence to friends and enemies alike if they ask you who my girl
+is--with the one exception of my lawyer. Years since, I left in his
+care the means of making a small provision for my child, on the chance
+that she might live to claim it. You can show him this letter as your
+authority, in case of need.
+
+"Try not to forget me, Amelius--but don't grieve about me. I go to my
+death as you go to your sleep when you are tired. I leave you my
+grateful love--you have always been good to me. There is no more to
+write; I hear the servant returning from the chemist's, bringing with
+her only release from the hard burden of life without hope. May you be
+happier than I have been! Goodbye!"
+
+So she parted from him for ever. But the fatal association of the
+unhappy woman's sorrows with the life and fortune of Amelius was not at
+an end yet.
+
+He had neither hesitation nor misgiving in resolving to show a natural
+respect to the wishes of the dead. Now that the miserable story of the
+past had been unreservedly disclosed to him, he would have felt himself
+bound in honour, even without instructions to guide him, to keep the
+discovery of the daughter a secret, for the mother's sake. With that
+conviction, he had read the distressing letter. With that conviction,
+he now rose to provide for the safe keeping of it under lock and key.
+
+
+Just as he had secured the letter in a private drawer of his desk, Toff
+came in with a card, and announced that a gentleman wished to see him.
+Amelius, looking at the card, was surprised to find on it the name of
+"Mr. Melton." Some lines were written on it in pencil: "I have called
+to speak with you on a matter of serious importance." Wondering what
+his middle-aged rival could want with him, Amelius instructed Toff to
+admit the visitor.
+
+Sally started to her feet, with her customary distrust of strangers.
+"May I run away before he comes in?" she asked. "If you like," Amelius
+answered quietly. She ran to the door of her room, at the moment when
+Toff appeared again, announcing the visitor. Mr. Melton entered just
+before she disappeared: he saw the flutter of her dress as the door
+closed behind her.
+
+"I fear I am disturbing you?" he said, looking hard at the door.
+
+He was perfectly dressed: his hat and gloves were models of what such
+things ought to be; he was melancholy and courteous; blandly
+distrustful of the flying skirts which he had seen at the door. When
+Amelius offered him a chair, he took it with a mysterious sigh;
+mournfully resigned to the sad necessity of sitting down. "I won't
+prolong my intrusion on you," he resumed. "You have no doubt seen the
+melancholy news in the evening papers?"
+
+"I haven't seen the evening papers," Amelius answered; "what news do
+you mean?"
+
+Mr. Melton leaned back in his chair, and expressed emotions of sorrow
+and surprise, in a perfect state of training, by gently raising his
+smooth white hands.
+
+"Oh dear, dear! this is very sad. I had hoped to find you in full
+possession of the particulars--reconciled, as we must all be, to the
+inscrutable ways of Providence. Permit me to break it to you as gently
+as possible. I came here to inquire if you had heard yet from Miss
+Regina. Understand my motive! there must be no misapprehension between
+us on that subject. There is a very serious necessity--pray follow me
+carefully--I say, a very serious necessity for my communicating
+immediately with Miss Regina's uncle; and I know of nobody who is so
+likely to hear from the travellers, so soon after their departure, as
+yourself. You are, in a certain sense, a member of the family--"
+
+"Stop a minute," said Amelius.
+
+"I beg your pardon?" said Mr. Melton politely, at a loss to understand
+the interruption.
+
+"I didn't at first know what you meant," Amelius explained. "You put
+it, if you will forgive me for saying so, in rather a roundabout way.
+If you are alluding, all this time, to Mrs. Farnaby's death, I must
+honestly tell you that I know of it already."
+
+The bland self-possession of Mr. Melton's face began to show signs of
+being ruffled. He had been in a manner deluded into exhibiting his
+conventionally fluent eloquence, in the choicest modulations of his
+sonorous voice--and it wounded his self esteem to be placed in his
+present position. "I understood you to say," he remarked stiffly, "that
+you had not seen the evening newspapers."
+
+"You are quite right," Amelius rejoined; "I have not seen them."
+
+"Then may I inquire," Mr. Melton proceeded, "how you became informed of
+Mrs. Farnaby's death?"
+
+Amelius replied with his customary frankness. "I went to call on the
+poor lady this morning," he said, "knowing nothing of what had
+happened. I met the doctor at the door; and I was present at her
+death."
+
+Even Mr. Melton's carefully-trained composure was not proof against the
+revelation that now opened before him. He burst out with an exclamation
+of astonishment, like an ordinary man.
+
+"Good heavens, what does this mean!"
+
+Amelius took it as a question addressed to himself. "I'm sure I don't
+know," he said quietly.
+
+Mr. Melton, misunderstanding Amelius on his side, interpreted those
+innocent words as an outbreak of vulgar interruption. "Pardon me," he
+said coldly. "I was about to explain myself. You will presently
+understand my surprise. After seeing the evening paper, I went at once
+to make inquiries at the address mentioned. In Mr. Farnaby's absence, I
+felt bound to do this as his old friend. I saw the landlady, and, with
+her assistance, the doctor also. Both these persons spoke of a
+gentleman who had called that morning, accompanied by a young lady; and
+who had insisted on taking the young lady upstairs with him. Until you
+mentioned just now that you were present at the death, I had no
+suspicion that you were 'the gentleman'. Surprise on my part was, I
+think, only natural. I could hardly be expected to know that you were
+in Mrs. Farnaby's confidence about the place of her retreat. And with
+regard to the young lady, I am still quite at a loss to understand--"
+
+"If you understand that the people at the house told you the truth, so
+far as I am concerned," Amelius interposed, "I hope that will be
+enough. With regard to the young lady, I must beg you to excuse me for
+speaking plainly. I have nothing to say about her, to you or to
+anybody."
+
+Mr. Melton rose with the utmost dignity and the fullest possession of
+his vocal resources.
+
+"Permit me to assure you," he said, with frigidly fluent politeness,
+"that I have no wish to force myself into your confidence. One remark I
+will venture to make. It is easy enough, no doubt, to keep your own
+secrets, when you are speaking to _me._ You will find some difficulty,
+I fear, in pursuing the same course, when you are called upon to give
+evidence before the coroner. I presume you know that you will be
+summoned as a witness at the inquest?"
+
+"I left my name and address with the doctor for that purpose," Amelius
+rejoined as composedly as ever; "and I am ready to bear witness to what
+I saw at poor Mrs. Farnaby's bedside. But if all the coroners in
+England questioned me about anything else, I should say to them just
+what I have said to you."
+
+Mr. Melton smiled with well bred irony. "We shall see," he said. "In
+the mean time, I presume I may ask you, in the interests of the family,
+to send me the address on the letter, as soon as you hear from Miss
+Regina. I have no other means of communicating with Mr. Farnaby. In
+respect to the melancholy event, I may add that I have undertaken to
+provide for the funeral, and to pay any little outstanding debts, and
+so forth. As Mr. Farnaby's old friend and representative--"
+
+The conclusion of the sentence was interrupted by the entrance of Toff
+with a note, and an apology for his intrusion. "I beg your pardon, sir;
+the person is waiting. She says it's only a receipt to sign. The box is
+in the hall."
+
+Amelius examined the enclosure. It was a formal document, acknowledging
+the receipt of Sally's clothes, returned to her by the authorities at
+the Home. As he took a pen to sign the receipt he looked towards the
+door of Sally's room. Mr. Melton, observing the look, prepared to
+retire. "I am only interrupting you," he said. "You have my address on
+my card. Good evening."
+
+On his way out, he passed an elderly woman, waiting in the hall. Toff,
+hastening before him to open the garden gate, was saluted by the gruff
+voice of a cabman, outside. "The lady whom he had driven to the cottage
+had not paid him his right fare; he meant to have the money, or the
+lady's name and address, and summon her." Quietly crossing the road,
+Mr. Melton heard the woman's voice next: she had got her receipt, and
+had followed him out. In the dispute about fares and distances that
+ensued, the contending parties more than once mentioned the name of the
+Home and of the locality in which it was situated. Possessing this
+information, Mr. Melton looked in at his club; consulted a directory,
+under the heading of "Charitable Institutions;" and solved the mystery
+of the vanishing petticoats at the door. He had discovered an inmate of
+an asylum for lost women, in the house of the man to whom Regina was
+engaged to be married!
+
+
+The next morning's post brought to Amelius a letter from Regina. It was
+dated from an hotel in Paris. Her "dear uncle" had over estimated his
+strength. He had refused to stay and rest for the night at Boulogne;
+and had suffered so severely from the fatigue of the long journey that
+he had been confined to his bed since his arrival. The English
+physician consulted had declined to say when he would be strong enough
+to travel again; the constitution of the patient must have received
+some serious shock; he was brought very low. Having carefully reported
+the new medical opinion, Regina was at liberty to indulge herself,
+next, in expressions of affection, and to assure Amelius of her anxiety
+to hear from him as soon as possible. But, in this case again, the
+"dear uncle's" convenience was still the first consideration. She
+reverted to Mr. Farnaby, in making her excuses for a hurriedly written
+letter. The poor invalid suffered from depression of spirits; his great
+consolation in his illness was to hear his niece read to him: he was
+calling for her, indeed, at that moment. The inevitable postscript
+warmed into a mild effusion of fondness, "How I wish you could be with
+us. But, alas, it cannot be!"
+
+Amelius copied the address on the letter, and sent it to Mr. Melton
+immediately.
+
+It was then the twenty-fourth day of the month. The tidal train did not
+leave London early that morning; and the inquest was deferred, to suit
+other pressing engagements of the coroner, until the twenty-sixth. Mr.
+Melton decided, after his interview with Amelius, that the emergency
+was sufficiently serious to justify him in following his telegram to
+Paris. It was clearly his duty, as an old friend, to mention to Mr.
+Farnaby what he had discovered at the cottage, as well as what he had
+heard from the landlady and the doctor; leaving it to the uncle's
+discretion to act as he thought right in the interests of the niece.
+Whether that course of action might not also serve the interests of Mr.
+Melton himself, in the character of an unsuccessful suitor for Regina's
+hand, he did not stop to inquire. Beyond his duty it was, for the
+present at least, not his business to look.
+
+That night, the two gentlemen held a private consultation in Paris; the
+doctor having previously certified that his patient was incapable of
+supporting the journey back to London, under any circumstances.
+
+The question of the formal proceedings rendered necessary by Mrs.
+Farnaby's death having been discussed and disposed of, Mr. Melton next
+entered on the narrative which the obligations of friendship
+imperatively demanded from him. To his astonishment and alarm, Mr.
+Farnaby started up in the bed like a man panic-stricken. "Did you say,"
+he stammered, as soon as he could speak, "you mean to make inquiries
+about that--that girl?"
+
+"I certainly thought it desirable, bearing in mind Mr. Goldenheart's
+position in your family."
+
+"Do nothing of the sort! Say nothing to Regina or to any living
+creature. Wait till I get well again--and leave me to deal with it. I
+am the proper person to take it in hand. Don't you see that for
+yourself? And, look here! there may be questions asked at the inquest.
+Some impudent scoundrel on the jury may want to pry into what doesn't
+concern him. The moment you're back in London, get a lawyer to
+represent us--the sharpest fellow that can be had for money. Tell him
+to stop all prying questions. Who the girl is, and what made that
+cursed young Socialist Goldenheart take her upstairs with him--all that
+sort of thing has nothing to do with the manner in which my wife met
+her death. You understand? I look to you, Melton, to see yourself that
+this is done. The less said at the infernal inquest, the better. In my
+position, it's an exposure that my enemies will make the most of, as it
+is. I'm too ill to go into the thing any further. No: I don't want
+Regina. Go to her in the sitting room, and tell the courier to get you
+something to eat and drink. And, I say! For God's sake don't be late
+for the Boulogne train tomorrow morning."
+
+Left by himself, he gave full vent to his fury; he cursed Amelius with
+oaths that are not to be written.
+
+He had burnt the letter which Mrs. Farnaby had written to him, on
+leaving him forever; but he had not burnt out of his memory the words
+which that letter contained. With his wife's language vividly present
+to his mind, he could arrive at but one conclusion, after what Mr.
+Melton had told him. Amelius was concerned in the discovery of his
+deserted daughter; Amelius had taken the girl to her dying mother's
+bedside. With his idiotic Socialist notions, he would be perfectly
+capable of owning the truth, if inquiries were made. The unblemished
+reputation which John Farnaby had built up by the self-seeking
+hypocrisy of a lifetime was at the mercy of a visionary young fool, who
+believed that rich men were created for the benefit of the poor, and
+who proposed to regenerate society by reviving the obsolete morality of
+the Primitive Christians. Was it possible for him to come to terms with
+such a person as this? There was not an inch of common ground on which
+they could meet. He dropped back on his pillow in despair, and lay for
+a while frowning and biting his nails. Suddenly he sat up again in the
+bed, and wiped his moist forehead, and heaved a heavy breath of relief.
+Had his illness obscured his intelligence? How was it he had not seen
+at once the perfectly easy way out of the difficulty which was
+presented by the facts themselves? Here is a man, engaged to marry my
+niece, who has been discovered keeping a girl at his cottage--who even
+had the audacity to take her upstairs with him when he made a call on
+my wife. Charge him with it in plain words; break off the engagement
+publicly in the face of society; and, if the profligate scoundrel tries
+to defend himself by telling the truth, who will believe him--when the
+girl was seen running out of his room? and when he refused, on the
+question being put to him, to say who she was?
+
+So, in ignorance of his wife's last instructions to Amelius--in equal
+ignorance of the compassionate silence which an honourable man
+preserves when a woman's reputation is at his mercy--the wretch
+needlessly plotted and planned to save his usurped reputation; seeing
+all things, as such men invariably do, through the foul light of his
+own inbred baseness and cruelty. He was troubled by no retributive
+emotions of shame or remorse, in contemplating this second sacrifice to
+his own interests of the daughter whom he had deserted in her infancy.
+If he felt any misgivings, they related wholly to himself. His head was
+throbbing, his tongue was dry; a dread of increasing his illness shook
+him suddenly. He drank some of the lemonade at his bedside, and lay
+down to compose himself to sleep.
+
+It was not to be done; there was a burning in his eyeballs, there was a
+wild irregular beating at his heart, which kept him awake. In some
+degree, at least, retribution seemed to be on the way to him already.
+
+Mr. Melton, delicately administering sympathy and consolation to
+Regina--whose affectionate nature felt keenly the calamity of her
+aunt's death--Mr. Melton, making himself modestly useful, by reading
+aloud certain devotional poems much prized by Regina, was called out of
+the room by the courier.
+
+"I have just looked in at Mr. Farnaby, sir," said the man; "and I am
+afraid he is worse."
+
+The physician was sent for. He thought so seriously of the change in
+the patient, that he obliged Regina to accept the services of a
+professed nurse. When Mr. Melton started on his return journey the next
+morning, he left his friend in a high fever.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 2
+
+The inquiry into the circumstances under which Mrs. Farnaby had died
+was held in the forenoon of the next day.
+
+Mr. Melton surprised Amelius by calling for him, and taking him to the
+inquest. The carriage stopped on the way, and a gentleman joined them,
+who was introduced as Mr. Melton's legal adviser. He spoke to Amelius
+about the inquest; stating, as his excuse for asking certain discreet
+questions, that his object was to suppress any painful disclosures. On
+reaching the house, Mr. Melton and his lawyer said a few words to the
+coroner downstairs, while the jury were assembling on the floor above.
+
+The first witness examined was the landlady.
+
+After deposing to the date at which the late Mrs. Farnaby had hired her
+lodgings, and verifying the statements which had appeared in the
+newspapers, she was questioned about the life and habits of the
+deceased. She described her late lodger as a respectable lady, punctual
+in her payments, and quiet and orderly in her way of life: she received
+letters, but saw no friends. On several occasions, an old woman was
+admitted to speak with her; and these visits seemed to be anything but
+agreeable to the deceased. Asked if she knew anything of the old woman,
+or of what had passed at the interviews described, the witness answered
+both questions in the negative. When the woman called, she always told
+the servant to announce her as "the nurse."
+
+Mr. Melton was next examined, to prove the identity of the deceased.
+
+He declared that he was quite unable to explain why she had left her
+husband's house under an assumed name. Asked if Mr. and Mrs. Farnaby
+had lived together on affectionate terms, he acknowledged that he had
+heard, at various times, of a want of harmony between them, but was not
+acquainted with the cause. Mr. Farnaby's high character and position in
+the commercial world spoke for themselves: the restraints of a
+gentleman guided him in his relations with his wife. The medical
+certificate of his illness in Paris was then put in; and Mr. Melton's
+examination came to an end.
+
+The chemist who had made up the prescription was the third witness. He
+knew the woman who brought it to his shop to be in the service of the
+first witness examined; an old customer of his, and a highly respected
+resident in the neighbourhood. He made up all prescriptions himself in
+which poisons were conspicuous ingredients; and he had affixed to the
+bottle a slip of paper, bearing the word "Poison," printed in large
+letters. The bottle was produced and identified; and the directions in
+the prescription were shown to have been accurately copied on the
+label.
+
+A general sensation of interest was excited by the appearance of the
+next witness--the woman servant. It was anticipated that her evidence
+would explain how the fatal mistake about the medicine had occurred.
+After replying to the formal inquiries, she proceeded as follows:
+
+"When I answered the bell, at the time I have mentioned, I found the
+deceased standing at the fireplace. There was a bottle of medicine on
+the table, by her writing desk. It was a much larger bottle than that
+which the last witness identified, and it was more than three parts
+full of some colourless medicine. The deceased gave me a prescription
+to take to the chemist's, with instructions to wait, and bring back the
+physic. She said, 'I don't feel at all well this morning; I thought of
+trying some of this medicine,' pointing to the bottle by her desk; 'but
+I am not sure it is the right thing for me. I think I want a tonic. The
+prescription I have given you is a tonic.' I went out at once to our
+chemist and got it. I found her writing a letter when I came back, but
+she finished it immediately, and pushed it away from her. When I put
+the bottle I had brought from the chemist on the table, she looked at
+the other larger bottle which she had by her; and she said, 'You will
+think me very undecided; I have been doubting, since I sent you to the
+chemist, whether I had not better begin with this medicine here, before
+I try the tonic. It's a medicine for the stomach; and I fancy it's only
+indigestion that's the matter with me, after all.' I said, 'You eat but
+a poor breakfast, ma'am, this morning. It isn't for me to advise; but,
+as you seem to be in doubt about yourself, wouldn't it be better to
+send for a doctor?' She shook her head, and said she didn't want to
+have a doctor if she could possibly help it. 'I'll try the medicine for
+indigestion first,' she says; 'and if it doesn't relieve me, we will
+see what is to be done, later in the day.' While we were talking, the
+tonic was left in its sealed paper cover, just as I had brought it from
+the shop. She took up the bottle containing the stomach medicine, and
+read the directions on it: 'Two tablespoonsful by measure-glass twice a
+day.' I asked if she had a measure-glass; and she said, Yes, and sent
+me to her bedroom to look for it. I couldn't find it. While I was
+looking, I heard her cry out, and ran back to the drawing-room to see
+what was the matter. 'Oh!' she says, 'how clumsy I am! I've broken the
+bottle.' She held up the bottle of the stomach medicine and showed it
+to me, broken just below the neck. 'Go back to the bedroom,' she says,
+'and see if you can find an empty bottle; I don't want to waste the
+medicine if I can help it.' There was only one empty bottle in the
+bedroom, a bottle on the chimney-piece. I took it to her immediately.
+She gave me the broken bottle; and while I poured the medicine into the
+bottle which I had found in the bedroom, she opened the paper which
+covered the tonic I had brought from the chemist. When I had done, and
+the two bottles were together on the table--the bottle that I had
+filled, and the bottle that I had brought front the chemist--I noticed
+that they were both of the same size, and that both had a label pasted
+on them, marked 'Poison.' I said to her, 'You must take care, ma'am,
+you don't make any mistake, the two bottles are so exactly alike.' 'I
+can easily prevent that,' she says, and dipped her pen in the ink, and
+copied the directions on the broken bottle, on to the label of the
+bottle that I had just filled. 'There!' she said. 'Now I hope your
+mind's at ease?' She spoke cheerfully, as if she was joking with me.
+And then she said, 'But where's the measure-glass?' I went back to the
+bedroom to look for it, and couldn't find it again. She changed all at
+once, upon that--she became quite angry; and walked up and down in a
+fume, abusing me for my stupidity. It was very unlike her. On all other
+occasions she was a most considerate lady. I made allowances for her.
+She had been very much upset earlier in the morning, when she had
+received a letter, which she told me herself contained bad news. Yes;
+another person was present at the time--the same woman that my mistress
+told you of. The woman looked at the address on the letter, and seemed
+to know who it was from. I told her a squint-eyed man had brought it to
+the house--and then she left directly. I don't know where she went, or
+the address at which she lives, or who the messenger was who brought
+the letter. As I have said, I made allowances for the deceased lady. I
+went downstairs, without answering, and got a tumbler and a tablespoon
+to serve instead of the measure-glass. When I came back with the
+things, she was still walking about in a temper. She took no notice of
+me. I left the room again quietly, seeing she was not in a state to be
+spoken to. I saw nothing more of her, until we were alarmed by hearing
+her scream. We found the poor lady on the floor in a kind of fit. I ran
+out and fetched the nearest doctor. This is the whole truth, on my
+oath; and this is all I know about it."
+
+The landlady was recalled at the request of the jury, and questioned
+again about the old woman. She could give no information. Being asked
+next if any letters or papers belonging to, or written by, the deceased
+lady had been found, she declared that, after the strictest search,
+nothing had been discovered but two medical prescriptions. The writing
+desk was empty.
+
+The doctor was the next witness.
+
+He described the state in which he found the patient, on being called
+to the house. The symptoms were those of poisoning by strychnine.
+Examination of the prescriptions and the bottles, aided by the
+servant's information, convinced him that a fatal mistake had been made
+by the deceased; the nature of which he explained to the jury as he had
+already explained it to Amelius. Having mentioned the meeting with
+Amelius at the house-door, and the events which had followed, he closed
+his evidence by stating the result of the postmortem examination,
+proving that the death was caused by the poison called strychnine.
+
+The landlady and the servant were examined again. They were instructed
+to inform the jury exactly of the time that had elapsed, from the
+moment when the servant had left the deceased alone in the
+drawing-room, to the time when the screams were first heard. Having
+both given the same evidence, on this point, they were next asked
+whether any person, besides the old woman, had visited the deceased
+lady--or had on any pretence obtained access to her in the interval.
+Both swore positively that there had not even been a knock at the
+house-door in the interval, and that the area-gate was locked, and the
+key in the possession of the landlady. This evidence placed it beyond
+the possibility of doubt that the deceased had herself taken the
+poison. The question whether she had taken it by accident was the only
+question left to decide, when Amelius was called as the next witness.
+
+The lawyer retained by Mr. Melton, to watch the case on behalf of Mr.
+Farnaby, had hitherto not interfered. It was observed that he paid the
+closest attention to the inquiry, at the stage which it had now
+reached.
+
+Amelius was nervous at the outset. The early training in America, which
+had hardened him to face an audience and speak with self-possession on
+social and political subjects had not prepared him for the very
+difficult ordeal of a first appearance as a witness. Having answered
+the customary inquiries, he was so painfully agitated in describing
+Mrs. Farnaby's sufferings, that the coroner suspended the examination
+for a few minutes, to give him time to control himself. He failed,
+however, to recover his composure, until the narrative part of his
+evidence had come to an end. When the critical questions, bearing on
+his relations with Mrs. Farnaby, began, the audience noticed that he
+lifted his head, and looked and spoke, for the first time, like a man
+with a settled resolution in him, sure of himself.
+
+The questions proceeded:
+
+Was he in Mrs. Farnaby's confidence, on the subject of her domestic
+differences with her husband? Did those differences lead to her
+withdrawing herself from her husband's roof? Did Mrs. Farnaby inform
+him of the place of her retreat? To these three questions the witness,
+speaking quite readily in each case, answered Yes. Asked next, what the
+nature of the 'domestic differences' had been; whether they were likely
+to affect Mrs. Farnaby's mind seriously; why she had passed under an
+assumed name, and why she had confided the troubles of her married life
+to a young man like himself, only introduced to her a few months since,
+the witness simply declined to reply to the inquiries addressed to him.
+"The confidence Mrs. Farnaby placed in me," he said to the coroner,
+"was a confidence which I gave her my word of honour to respect. When I
+have said that, I hope the jury will understand that I owe it to the
+memory of the dead to say no more."
+
+There was a murmur of approval among the audience, instantly checked by
+the coroner. The foreman of the jury rose, and remarked that scruples
+of honour were out of place at a serious inquiry of that sort. Hearing
+this, the lawyer saw his opportunity, and got on his legs. "I represent
+the husband of the deceased lady," he said. "Mr. Goldenheart has
+appealed to the law of honour to justify him in keeping silence. I am
+astonished that there is a man to be found in this assembly who fails
+to sympathize with him. But as there appears to be such a person
+present, I ask permission, sir, to put a question to the witness. It
+may, or may not, satisfy the foreman of the jury; but it will certainly
+assist the object of the present inquiry."
+
+The coroner, after a glance at Mr. Melton, permitted the lawyer to put
+his question in these terms:--
+
+"Did your knowledge of Mrs. Farnaby's domestic troubles give you any
+reason to apprehend that they might urge her to commit suicide?
+
+"Certainly not," Amelius answered. "When I called on her, on the
+morning of her death, I had no apprehension whatever of her committing
+suicide. I went to the house as the bearer of good news; and I said so
+to the doctor, when he first spoke to me."
+
+The doctor confirmed this. The foreman was silenced, if not convinced.
+One of his brother-jurymen, however, feeling the force of example,
+interrupted the proceedings, by assailing Amelius with another
+question:--"We have heard that you were accompanied by a young lady at
+the time you have mentioned, and that you took her upstairs with you.
+We want to know what business the young lady had in the house?"
+
+The lawyer interfered again. "I object to that question," he said. "The
+purpose of the inquest is to ascertain how Mrs. Farnaby met with her
+death. What has the young lady to do with it? The doctor's evidence has
+already told us that she was not at the house, until after he had been
+called in, and the deadly action of the poison had begun. I appeal,
+sir, to the law of evidence, and to you, as the presiding authority, to
+enforce it. Mr. Goldenheart, who is acquainted with the circumstances
+of the deceased lady's life, has declared on his oath that there was
+nothing in those circumstances to inspire him with any apprehension of
+her committing suicide. The evidence of the servant at the lodgings
+points plainly to the conclusion already arrived at by the medical
+witness, that the death was the result of a lamentable mistake, and of
+that alone. Is our time to be wasted in irrelevant questions, and are
+the feelings of the surviving relatives to be cruelly lacerated to no
+purpose, to satisfy the curiosity of strangers?"
+
+A strong expression of approval from the audience followed this. The
+lawyer whispered to Mr. Melton, "It's all right!"
+
+Order being restored, the coroner ruled that the juryman's question was
+not admissible, and that the servant's evidence, taken with the
+statements of the doctor and the chemist, was the only evidence for the
+consideration of the jury. Summing up to this effect, he recalled
+Amelius, at the request of the foreman, to inquire if the witness knew
+anything of the old woman who had been frequently alluded to in the
+course of the proceedings. Amelius could answer this question as
+honestly as he had answered the questions preceding it. He neither knew
+the woman's name, nor where she was to be found. The coroner inquired,
+with a touch of irony, if the jury wished the inquest to be adjourned,
+under existing circumstances.
+
+For the sake of appearances, the jury consulted together. But the
+luncheon-hour was approaching; the servant's evidence was undeniably
+clear and conclusive; the coroner, in summing up, had requested them
+not to forget that the deceased had lost her temper with the servant,
+and that an angry woman might well make a mistake which would be
+unlikely in her cooler moments. All these influences led the jury
+irrepressibly, over the obstacles of obstinacy, on the way to
+submission. After a needless delay, they returned a verdict of "death
+by misadventure." The secret of Mrs. Farnaby's suicide remained
+inviolate; the reputation of her vile husband stood as high as ever;
+and the future life of Amelius was, from that fatal moment, turned
+irrevocably into a new course.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 3
+
+On the conclusion of the proceedings, Mr. Melton, having no further
+need of Amelius or the lawyer, drove away by himself. But he was too
+inveterately polite to omit making his excuses for leaving them in a
+hurry; he expected, he said, to find a telegram from Paris waiting at
+his house. Amelius only delayed his departure to ask the landlady if
+the day of the funeral was settled. Hearing that it was arranged for
+the next morning, he thanked her, and returned at once to the cottage.
+
+Sally was waiting his arrival to complete some purchases of mourning
+for her unhappy mother; Toff's wife being in attendance to take care of
+her. She was curious to know how the inquest had ended. In answering
+her question, Amelius was careful to warn her, if her companion made
+any inquiries, only to say that she had lost her mother under very sad
+circumstances. The two having left the cottage, he instructed Toff to
+let in a stranger, who was to call by previous appointment, and to
+close the door to every one else. In a few minutes, the expected
+person, a young man, who gave the name of Morcross, made his
+appearance, and sorely puzzled the old Frenchman. He was well dressed;
+his manner was quiet and self-possessed--and yet he did not look like a
+gentleman. In fact, he was a policeman of the higher order, in plain
+clothes.
+
+Being introduced to the library, he spread out on the table some sheets
+of manuscript, in the handwriting of Amelius, with notes in red ink on
+the margin, made by himself.
+
+"I understand, sir," he began, "that you have reasons for not bringing
+this case to trial in a court of law?"
+
+"I am sorry to say," Amelius answered, "that I dare not consent to the
+exposure of a public trial, for the sake of persons living and dead.
+For the same reason, I have written the account of the conspiracy with
+certain reserves. I hope I have not thrown any needless difficulties in
+your way?"
+
+"Certainly not, sir. But I should wish to ask, what you propose to do,
+in case I discover the people concerned in the conspiracy?"
+
+Amelius owned, very reluctantly, that he could do nothing with the old
+woman who had been the accomplice. "Unless," he added, "I can induce
+her to assist me in bringing the man to justice for other crimes which
+I believe him to have committed."
+
+"Meaning the man named Jervy, sir, in this statement?"
+
+"Yes. I have reason to believe that he has been obliged to leave the
+United States, after committing some serious offence--"
+
+"I beg your pardon for interrupting you, sir. Is it serious enough to
+charge him with, under the treaty between the two countries?"
+
+"I don't doubt it's serious enough. I have telegraphed to the persons
+who formerly employed him, for the particulars. Mind this! I will stick
+at no sacrifice to make that scoundrel suffer for what he has done."
+
+In those plain words Amelius revealed, as frankly as usual, the purpose
+that was in him. The terrible remembrances associated with Mrs.
+Farnaby's last moments had kindled, in his just and generous nature, a
+burning sense of the wrong inflicted on the poor heart-broken creature
+who had trusted and loved him. The unendurable thought that the wretch
+who had tortured her, robbed her, and driven her to her death had
+escaped with impunity, literally haunted him night and day. Eager to
+provide for Sally's future, he had followed Mrs. Farnaby's
+instructions, and had seen the lawyer privately, during the period that
+had elapsed between the death and the inquest. Hearing that there were
+formalities to be complied with, which would probably cause some delay,
+he had at once announced his determination to employ the interval in
+attempting the pursuit of Jervy. The lawyer--after vainly pointing out
+the serious objections to the course proposed--so far yielded to the
+irresistible earnestness and good faith of Amelius as to recommend him
+to a competent man, who could be trusted not to deceive him. The same
+day the man had received a written statement of the case; and he had
+now arrived to report the result of his first proceedings to his
+employer.
+
+"One thing I want to know, before you tell me anything else," Amelius
+resumed. "Is my written description of Jervy plain enough to help you
+to find him?"
+
+"It's so plain, sir, that some of the older men in our office have
+recognized him by it--under another name than the name you give him."
+
+"Does that add to the difficulty of tracing him?"
+
+"He has been a long time away from England, sir; and it's by no means
+easy to trace him, on that account. I have been to the young woman,
+named Phoebe in your statement, to find out what she can tell me about
+him. She's ready enough, in the intervals of crying, to help us to lay
+our hands on the man who has deserted her. It's the old story of a
+fellow getting at a girl's secrets and a girl's money, under pretence
+of marrying her. At one time, she's furious with him, and at another
+she's ready to cry her eyes out. I got some information from her; it's
+not much, but it may help us. The name of the old woman, who has been
+the go-between in the business, is Mrs. Sowler--known to the police as
+an inveterate drunkard, and worse. I don't think there will be much
+difficulty in tracing Mrs. Sowler. As to Jervy, if the young woman is
+to be believed, and I think she is, there's little doubt that he has
+got the money from the lady mentioned in my instructions here, and that
+he has bolted with the sum about him. Wait a bit, sir, I haven't done
+with my discoveries yet. I asked the young woman, of course, if she had
+his photograph. He's a sharp fellow; she had it, but he got it away
+from her, on pretence of giving her a better one, before he took
+himself off. Having missed this chance, I asked next if she knew where
+he lived last. She directed me to the place; and I have had a talk with
+the landlord. He tells me of a squint-eyed man, who was a good deal
+about the house, doing Jervy's dirty work for him. If I am not misled
+by the description, I think I know the man. I have my own notion of
+what he's capable of doing, if he gets the chance--and I propose to
+begin by finding our way to him, and using him as a means of tracing
+Jervy. It's only right to tell you that it may take some time to do
+this--for which reason I have to propose, in the mean while, trying a
+shorter way to the end in view. Do you object, sir, to the expense of
+sending a copy of your description of Jervy to every police-station in
+London?"
+
+"I object to nothing which may help to find him. Do you think the
+police have got him anywhere?"
+
+"You forget, sir, that the police have no orders to take him. What I'm
+speculating on is the chance that he has got the money about him--say
+in small banknotes, for convenience of changing them, you know."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Well, sir, the people he lives among--the squint-eyed man, for
+instance!--don't stick at trifles. If any of them have found out that
+Jervy's purse is worth having--"
+
+"You mean they would rob him?"
+
+"And murder him too, sir, if he tried to resist."
+
+Amelius started to his feet. "Send round to the police-stations without
+losing another minute," he said. "And let me hear what the answer is,
+the instant you receive it."
+
+"Suppose I get the answer late at night, sir?"
+
+"I don't care when you get it, night or day. Dead or living, I will
+undertake to identify him. Here's a duplicate key of the garden gate.
+Come this way, and I'll show you where my bedroom is. If we are all in
+bed, tap at the window--and I will be ready for you at a moment's
+notice."
+
+On that understanding Morcross left the cottage.
+
+The day when the mortal remains of Mrs. Farnaby were laid at rest was a
+day of heavy rain. Mr. Melton, and two or three other old friends, were
+the attendants at the funeral. When the coffin was borne into the damp
+and reeking burial ground, a young man and a woman were the only
+persons, beside the sexton and his assistants, who stood by the open
+grave. Mr. Melton, recognizing Amelius, was at a loss to understand who
+his companion could be. It was impossible to suppose that he would
+profane that solemn ceremony by bringing to it the lost woman at the
+cottage. The thick black veil of the person with him hid her face from
+view. No visible expressions of grief escaped her. When the last
+sublime words of the burial service had been read, those two mourners
+were left, after the others had all departed, still standing together
+by the grave. Mr. Melton decided on mentioning the circumstance
+confidentially when he wrote to his friend in Paris. Telegrams from
+Regina, in reply to his telegrams from London, had informed him that
+Mr. Farnaby had felt the benefit of the remedies employed, and was
+slowly on the way to recovery. It seemed likely that he would, in no
+long time, take the right course for the protection of his niece. For
+the enlightenment which might, or might not, come with that time, Mr.
+Melton was resigned to wait, with the disciplined patience to which he
+had been mainly indebted for his success in life.
+
+
+"Always remember your mother tenderly, my child," said Amelius, as they
+left the burial ground. "She was sorely tried, poor thing, in her life
+time, and she loved you very dearly."
+
+"Do you know anything of my father?" Sally asked timidly. "Is he still
+living?"
+
+"My dear, you will never see your father. I must be all that the
+kindest father and mother could have been to you, now. Oh, my poor
+little girl!"
+
+She pressed his arm to her as she held it. "Why should you pity me?"
+she said. "Haven't I got You?"
+
+They passed the day together quietly at the cottage. Amelius took down
+some of his books, and pleased Sally by giving her his first lessons.
+Soon after ten o'clock she withdrew, at the usual early hour, to her
+room. In her absence, he sent for Toff, intending to warn him not to be
+alarmed if he heard footsteps in the garden, after they had all gone to
+bed. The old servant had barely entered the library, when he was called
+away by the bell at the outer gate. Amelius, looking into the hall,
+discovered Morcross, and signed to him eagerly to come in. The
+police-officer closed the door cautiously behind him. He had arrived
+with news that Jervy was found.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 4
+
+"Where has he been found?" Amelius asked, snatching up his hat.
+
+"There's no hurry, sir," Morcross answered quietly. "When I had the
+honour of seeing you yesterday, you said you meant to make Jervy suffer
+for what he had done. Somebody else has saved you the trouble. He was
+found this evening in the river."
+
+"Drowned?"
+
+"Stabbed in three places, sir; and put out of the way in the
+river--that's the surgeon's report. Robbed of everything he
+possessed--that's the police report, after searching his pockets."
+
+Amelius was silent. It had not entered into his calculations that crime
+breeds crime, and that the criminal might escape him under that law.
+For the moment, he was conscious of a sense of disappointment,
+revealing plainly that the desire for vengeance had mingled with the
+higher motives which animated him. He felt uneasy and ashamed, and
+longed as usual to take refuge in action from his own unwelcome
+thoughts. "Are you sure it is the man?" he asked. "My description may
+have misled the police--I should like to see him myself."
+
+"Certainly, sir. While we are about it, if you feel any curiosity to
+trace Jervy's ill-gotten money, there's a chance (from what I have
+heard) of finding the man with the squint. The people at our place
+think it's likely he may have been concerned in the robbery, if he
+hasn't committed the murder."
+
+In an hour after, under the guidance of Morcross, Amelius passed
+through the dreary doors of a deadhouse, situated on the southern bank
+of the Thames, and saw the body of Jervy stretched out on a stone slab.
+The guardian who held the lantern, inured to such horrible sights,
+declared that the corpse could not have been in the water more than two
+days. To any one who had seen the murdered man, the face, undisfigured
+by injury of any kind, was perfectly recognizable. Amelius knew him
+again, dead, as certainly as he had known him again, living, when he
+was waiting for Phoebe in the street.
+
+"If you're satisfied, sir," said Morcross, "the inspector at the
+police-station is sending a sergeant to look after 'Wall-Eyes'--the
+name they give hereabouts to the man suspected of the robbery. We can
+take the sergeant with us in the cab, if you like."
+
+Still keeping on the southern bank of the river, they drove for a
+quarter of an hour in a westerly direction, and stopped at a
+public-house. The sergeant of police went in by himself to make the
+first inquiries.
+
+"We are a day too late, sir," he said to Amelius, on returning to the
+cab. "Wall-Eyes was here last night, and Mother Sowler with him,
+judging by the description. Both of them drunk--and the woman the worse
+of the two. The landlord knew nothing more about it; but there's a man
+at the bar tells me he heard of them this morning (still drinking) at
+the Dairy."
+
+"The Dairy?" Amelius repeated.
+
+Morcross interposed with the necessary explanation. "An old house, sir,
+which once stood by itself in the fields. It was a dairy a hundred
+years ago; and it has kept the name ever since, though it's nothing but
+a low lodging house now."
+
+"One of the worst places on this side of the river," the sergeant
+added, "The landlord's a returned convict. Sly as he is we shall have
+him again yet, for receiving stolen goods. There's every sort of thief
+among his lodgers, from a pickpocket to a housebreaker. It's my duty to
+continue the inquiry, sir; but a gentleman like you will be better, I
+should say, out of such a place as that."
+
+Still disquieted by the sight that he had seen in the deadhouse, and by
+the associations which that sight had recalled, Amelius was ready for
+any adventure which might relieve his mind. Even the prospect of a
+visit to a thieves' lodging house was more welcome to him than the
+prospect of going home alone. "If there's no serious objection to it,"
+he said, "I own I should like to see the place."
+
+"You'll be safe enough with us," the sergeant replied. "If you don't
+mind filthy people and bad language--all right, sir! Cabman, drive to
+the Dairy."
+
+Their direction was now towards the south, through a perfect labyrinth
+of mean and dirty streets. Twice the driver was obliged to ask his way.
+On the second occasion the sergeant, putting his head out of the window
+to stop the cab, cried, "Hullo! there's something up."
+
+They got out in front of a long low rambling house, a complete contrast
+to the modern buildings about it. Late as the hour was, a mob had
+assembled in front of the door. The police were on the spot keeping the
+people in order.
+
+Morcross and the sergeant pushed their way through the crowd, leading
+Amelius between them. "Something wrong, sir, in the back kitchen," said
+one of the policemen answering the sergeant while he opened the street
+door. A few yards down the passage there was a second door, with a man
+on the watch by it. "There's a nice to-do downstairs," the man
+announced, recognizing the sergeant, and unlocking the door with a key
+which he took from his pocket. "The landlord at the Dairy knows his
+lodgers, sir," Morcross whispered to Amelius; "the place is kept like a
+prison." As they passed through the second door, a frantic voice
+startled them, shouting in fury from below. An old man came hobbling up
+the kitchen stairs, his eyes wild with fear, his long grey hair all
+tumbled over his face. "Oh, Lord, have you got the tools for breaking
+open the door?" he asked, wringing his dirty hands in an agony of
+supplication. "She'll set the house on fire! she'll kill my wife and
+daughter!" The sergeant pushed him contemptuously out of the way, and
+looked round for Amelius. "It's only the landlord, sir; keep near
+Morcross, and follow me."
+
+They descended the kitchen stairs, the frantic cries below growing
+louder and louder at every step they took; and made their way through
+the thieves and vagabonds crowding together in the passage. Passing on
+their right hand a solid old oaken door fast closed, they reached an
+open wicket-gate of iron which led into a stone-paved yard. A heavily
+barred window was now visible in the back wall of the house, raised
+three or four feet from the pavement of the yard. The room within was
+illuminated by a blaze of gaslight. More policemen were here, keeping
+back more inquisitive lodgers. Among the spectators was a man with a
+hideous outward squint, holding by the window-bars in a state of
+drunken terror. The sergeant looked at him, and beckoned to one of the
+policemen. "Take him to the station; I shall have something to say to
+Wall-Eyes when he's sober. Now then! stand back all of you, and let's
+see what's going on in the kitchen."
+
+He took Amelius by the arm, and led him to the window. Even the
+sergeant started when the scene inside met his view. "By God!" he
+cried, "it's Mother Sowler herself."
+
+It _was_ Mother Sowler. The horrible woman was tramping round and round
+in the middle of the kitchen, like a beast in a cage; raving in the
+dreadful drink-madness called delirium tremens. In the farthest corner
+of the room, barricaded behind the table, the landlord's wife and
+daughter crouched in terror of their lives. The gas, turned full on,
+blazed high enough to blacken the ceiling, and showed the heavy bolts
+shot at the top and bottom of the solid door. Nothing less than a
+battering-ram could have burst that door in from the outer side; an
+hour's work with the file would have failed to break a passage through
+the bars over the window. "How did she get there?" the sergeant asked.
+"Run downstairs, and bolted herself in, while the missus and the young
+'un were cooking"--was the answering cry from the people in the yard.
+As they spoke, another vain attempt was made to break in the door from
+the passage. The noise of the heavy blows redoubled the frenzy of the
+terrible creature in the kitchen, still tramping round and round under
+the blazing gaslight. Suddenly, she made a dart at the window, and
+confronted the men looking in from the yard. Her staring eyes were
+bloodshot; a purple-red flush was over her face; her hair waved wildly
+about her, torn away in places by her own hands. "Cats!" she screamed,
+glaring out of the window, "millions of cats! all their months wide
+open spitting at me! Fire! fire to scare away the cats!" She searched
+furiously in her pocket, and tore out a handful of loose papers. One of
+them escaped, and fluttered downward to a wooden press under the
+window. Amelius was nearest, and saw it plainly as it fell, "Good
+heavens!" he exclaimed, "it's a bank-note!" "Wall-Eyes' money!" shouted
+the thieves in the yard; "She's going to burn Wall-Eyes' money!" The
+madwoman turned back to the middle of the kitchen, leapt up at the
+gas-burner, and set fire to the bank-notes. She scattered them flaming
+all round her on the kitchen floor. "Away with you!" she shouted,
+shaking her fists at the visionary multitude of cats. "Away with you,
+up the chimney! Away with you, out of the window!" She sprang back to
+the window, with her crooked fingers twisted in her hair! "The snakes!"
+she shrieked; "the snakes are hissing again in my hair! the beetles are
+crawling over my face!" She tore at her hair; she scraped her face with
+long black nails that lacerated the flesh. Amelius turned away, unable
+to endure the sight of her. Morcross took his place, eyed her steadily
+for a moment, and saw the way to end it. "A quarter of gin!" he
+shouted. "Quick! before she leaves the window!" In a minute he had the
+pewter measure in his hand, and tapped at the window. "Gin, Mother
+Sowler! Break the window, and have a drop of gin!" For a moment, the
+drunkard mastered her own dreadful visions at the sight of the liquor.
+She broke a pane of glass with her clenched fist. "The door!" cried
+Morcross, to the panic-stricken women, barricaded behind the table.
+"The door!" he reiterated, as he handed the gin in through the bars.
+The elder woman was too terrified to understand him; her bolder
+daughter crawled under the table, rushed across the kitchen, and drew
+the bolts. As the madwoman turned to attack her, the room was filled
+with men, headed by the sergeant. Three of them were barely enough to
+control the frantic wretch, and bind her hand and foot. When Amelius
+entered the kitchen, after she had been conveyed to the hospital, a
+five-pound note on the press (secured by one of the police), and a few
+frail black ashes scattered thinly on the kitchen floor, were the only
+relics left of the ill-gotten money.
+
+
+After-inquiry, patiently pursued in more than one direction, failed to
+throw any light on the mystery of Jervy's death. Morcross's report to
+Amelius, towards the close of the investigation, was little more than
+ingenious guess-work.
+
+"It seems pretty clear, sir, in the first place, that Mother Sowler
+must have overtaken Wall-Eyes, after he had left the letter at Mrs.
+Farnaby's lodgings. In the second place, we are justified (as I shall
+show you directly) in assuming that she told him of the money in
+Jervy's possession, and that the two succeeded in discovering Jervy--no
+doubt through Wall-Eyes' superior knowledge of his master's movements.
+The evidence concerning the bank-notes proves this. We know, by the
+examination of the people at the Dairy, that Wall-Eyes took from his
+pocket a handful of notes, when they refused to send for liquor without
+having the money first. We are also informed, that the breaking-out of
+the drink-madness in Mother Sowler showed itself in her snatching the
+notes out of his hand, and trying to strangle him--before she ran down
+into the kitchen and bolted herself in. Lastly, Mrs. Farnaby's bankers
+have identified the note saved from the burning, as one of forty
+five-pound notes paid to her cheque. So much for the tracing of the
+money.
+
+"I wish I could give an equally satisfactory account of the tracing of
+the crime. We can make nothing of Wall-Eyes. He declares that he didn't
+even know Jervy was dead, till we told him; and he swears he found the
+money dropped in the street. It is needless to say that this last
+assertion is a lie. Opinions are divided among us as to whether he is
+answerable for the murder as well as the robbery, or whether there was
+a third person concerned in it. My own belief is that Jervy was drugged
+by the old woman (with a young woman very likely used as a decoy), in
+some house by the riverside, and then murdered by Wall-Eyes in cold
+blood. We have done our best to clear the matter up, and we have not
+succeeded. The doctors give us no hope of any assistance from Mother
+Sowler. If she gets over the attack (which is doubtful), they say she
+will die to a certainty of liver disease. In short, my own fear is that
+this will prove to be one more of those murders which are mysteries to
+the police as well as the public."
+
+The report of the case excited some interest, published in the
+newspapers in conspicuous type. Meddlesome readers wrote letters,
+offering complacently stupid suggestions to the police. After a while,
+another crime attracted general attention; and the murder of Jervy
+disappeared from the public memory, among other forgotten murders of
+modern times.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 5
+
+The last dreary days of November came to their end.
+
+No longer darkened by the shadows of crime and torment and death, the
+life of Amelius glided insensibly into the peaceful byways of
+seclusion, brightened by the companionship of Sally. The winter days
+followed one another in a happy uniformity of occupations and
+amusements. There were lessons to fill up the morning, and walks to
+occupy the afternoon--and, in the evenings, sometimes reading,
+sometimes singing, sometimes nothing but the lazy luxury of talk. In
+the vast world of London, with its monstrous extremes of wealth and
+poverty, and its all-permeating malady of life at fever-heat, there was
+one supremely innocent and supremely happy creature. Sally had heard of
+Heaven, attainable on the hard condition of first paying the debt of
+death. "I have found a kinder Heaven," she said, one day. "It is here
+in the cottage; and Amelius has shown me the way to it."
+
+Their social isolation was at this time complete: they were two
+friendless people, perfectly insensible to all that was perilous and
+pitiable in their own position. They parted with a kiss at night, and
+they met again with a kiss in the morning--and they were as happily
+free from all mistrust of the future as a pair of birds. No visitors
+came to the house; the few friends and acquaintances of Amelius,
+forgotten by him, forgot him in return. Now and then, Toff's wife came
+to the cottage, and exhibited the "cherubim-baby." Now and then, Toff
+himself (a musician among his other accomplishments) brought his fiddle
+upstairs; and, saying modestly, "A little music helps to pass the
+time," played to the young master and mistress the cheerful tinkling
+tunes of the old vaudevilles of France. They were pleased with these
+small interruptions when they came; and they were not disappointed when
+the days passed, and the baby and the vaudevilles were hushed in
+absence and silence. So the happy winter time went by; and the howling
+winds brought no rheumatism with them, and even the tax-gatherer
+himself, looking in at this earthly paradise, departed without a curse
+when he left his little paper behind him.
+
+Now and then, at long intervals, the outer world intruded itself in the
+form of a letter.
+
+Regina wrote, always with the same placid affection; always entering
+into the same minute narrative of the slow progress of "dear uncle's"
+return to health. He was forbidden to exert himself in any way. His
+nerves were in a state of lamentable irritability. "I dare not even
+mention your name to him, dear Amelius; it seems, I cannot think why,
+to make him--oh, so unreasonably angry. I can only submit, and pray
+that he may soon be himself again." Amelius wrote back, always in the
+same considerate and gentle tone; always laying the blame of his dull
+letters on the studious uniformity of his life. He preserved, with a
+perfectly easy conscience, the most absolute silence on the subject of
+Sally. While he was faithful to Regina, what reason had he to reproach
+himself with the protection that he offered to a poor motherless girl?
+When he was married, he might mention the circumstances under which he
+had met with Sally, and leave the rest to his wife's sympathy.
+
+One morning, the letters with the Paris post-mark were varied by a few
+lines from Rufus.
+
+"Every morning, my bright boy, I get up and say to myself, 'Well! I
+reckon it's about time to take the route for London;' and every
+morning, if you'll believe me, I put it off till next day. Whether it's
+in the good feeding (expensive, I admit; but when your cook helps you
+to digest instead of hindering you, a man of my dyspeptic nation is too
+grateful to complain)--or whether it's in the air, which reminds me, I
+do assure you, of our native atmosphere at Coolspring, Mass., is more
+than I can tell, with a hard steel pen on a leaf of flimsy paper. You
+have heard the saying, 'When a good American dies, he goes to Paris'.
+Maybe, sometimes, he's smart enough to discount his own death, and
+rationally enjoy the future time in the present. This you see is a
+poetic light. But, mercy be praised, the moral of my residence in Paris
+is plain:--If I can't go to Amelius, Amelius must come to me. Note the
+address Grand Hotel; and pack up, like a good boy, on receipt of this.
+Memorandum: The brown Miss is here. I saw her taking the air in a
+carriage, and raised my hat. She looked the other way.
+
+"British--eminently British! But, there, I bear no malice; I am her most
+obedient servant, and yours affectionately, RUFUS.--Postscript: I want
+you to see some of our girls at this hotel. The genuine American
+material, sir, perfected by Worth."
+
+Another morning brought with it a few sad lines from Phoebe. "After
+what had happened, she was quite unable to face her friends; she had no
+heart to seek employment in her own country--her present life was too
+dreary and too hopeless to be endured. A benevolent lady had made her
+an offer to accompany a party of emigrants to New Zealand; and she had
+accepted the proposal. Perhaps, among the new people, she might recover
+her self-respect and her spirits, and live to be a better woman.
+Meanwhile, she bade Mr. Goldenheart farewell; and asked his pardon for
+taking the liberty of wishing him happy with Miss Regina."
+
+Amelius wrote a few kind lines to Phoebe, and a cordial reply to Rufus,
+making the pursuit of his studies his excuse for remaining in London.
+After this, there was no further correspondence. The mornings succeeded
+each other, and the postman brought no more news from the world
+outside.
+
+But the lessons went on; and the teacher and pupil were as
+inconsiderately happy as ever in each other's society. Observing with
+inexhaustible interest the progress of the mental development of Sally,
+Amelius was slow to perceive the physical development which was
+unobtrusively keeping pace with it. He was absolutely ignorant of the
+part which his own influence was taking in the gradual and delicate
+process of change. Ere long, the first forewarnings of the coming
+disturbance in their harmless relations towards each other, began to
+show themselves. Ere long, there were signs of a troubled mind in
+Sally, which were mysteries to Amelius, and subjects of wonderment,
+sometimes even trials of temper, to the girl herself.
+
+One day, she looked in from the door of her room, in her white
+dressing-gown, and asked to be forgiven if she kept the lessons of the
+morning waiting for a little while.
+
+"Come in," said Amelius, "and tell me why."
+
+She hesitated. "You won't think me lazy, if you see me in my
+dressing-gown?"
+
+"Of course not! Your dressing-gown, my dear, is as good as any other
+gown. A young girl like you looks best in white."
+
+She came in with her work-basket, and her indoor dress over her arm.
+
+Amelius laughed. "Why haven't you put it on?" he asked.
+
+She sat down in a corner, and looked at her work-basket, instead of
+looking at Amelius. "It doesn't fit me so well as it did," she
+answered. "I am obliged to alter it."
+
+Amelius looked at her--at the charming youthful figure that had filled
+out, at the softly-rounded outline of the face with no angles and
+hollows in it now. "Is it the dressmaker's fault?" he asked slyly.
+
+Her eyes were still on the basket. "It's my fault," she said. "You
+remember what a poor little skinny creature I was, when you first saw
+me. I--you won't like me the worse for it, will you?--I am getting fat.
+I don't know why. They say happy people get fat. Perhaps that's why.
+I'm never hungry, and never frightened, and never miserable now--" She
+stopped; her dress slipped from her lap to the floor. "Don't look at
+me!" she said--and suddenly put her hands over her face.
+
+Amelius saw the tears finding their way through the pretty plump
+fingers, which he remembered so shapeless and so thin. He crossed the
+room, and touched her gently on the shoulder. "My dear child! have I
+said anything to distress you?"
+
+"Nothing."
+
+"Then why are you crying?"
+
+"I don't know." She hesitated; looked at him; and made a desperate
+effort to tell him what was in her mind. "I'm afraid you'll get tired
+of me. There's nothing about me to make you pity me now. You seem to
+be--not quite the same--no! it isn't that--I don't know what's come to
+me--I'm a greater fool than ever. Give me my lesson, Amelius! please
+give me my lesson!"
+
+Amelius produced the books, in some little surprise at Sally's
+extraordinary anxiety to begin her lessons, while the unaltered dress
+lay neglected on the carpet at her feet. A discreet abstract of the
+history of England, published for the use of young persons, happened to
+be at the top of the books. The system of education under Amelius
+recognized the laws of chance: they began with the history, because it
+turned up first. Sally read aloud; and Sally's master explained obscure
+passages, and corrected occasional errors of pronunciation, as she went
+on. On that particular morning, there was little to explain and nothing
+to correct. "Am I doing it well today?" Sally inquired, on reaching the
+end of her task.
+
+"Very well, indeed."
+
+She shut the book, and looked at her teacher. "I wonder how it is," she
+resumed, "that I get on so much better with my lessons here than I did
+at the Home? And yet it's foolish of me to wonder. I get on better,
+because you are teaching me, of course. But I don't feel satisfied with
+myself. I'm the same helpless creature--I feel your kindness, and can't
+make any return to you--for all my learning. I should like--" She left
+the thought in her unexpressed, and opened her copy-book. "I'll do my
+writing now," she said, in a quiet resigned way. "Perhaps I may improve
+enough, some day, to keep your accounts for you." She chose her pen a
+little absently, and began to write. Amelius looked over her shoulder,
+and laughed; she was writing his name. He pointed to the copper-plate
+copy on the top line, presenting an undeniable moral maxim, in
+characters beyond the reach of criticism:--Change Is A Law Of Nature.
+"There, my dear, you are to copy that till you're tired of it," said
+the easy master; "and then we'll try overleaf, another copy beginning
+with letter D."
+
+Sally laid down her pen. "I don't like 'Change is a law of Nature',"
+she said, knitting her pretty eyebrows into a frown. "I looked at those
+words yesterday, and they made me miserable at night. I was foolish
+enough to think that we should always go on together as we go on now,
+till I saw that copy. I hate the copy! It came to my mind when I was
+awake in the dark, and it seemed to tell me that _we_ were going to
+change some day. That's the worst of learning--one knows too much, and
+then there's an end of one's happiness. Thoughts come to you, when you
+don't want them. I thought of the young lady we saw last week in the
+park."
+
+She spoke gravely and sadly. The bright contentment which had given a
+new charm to her eyes since she had been at the cottage, died out of
+them as Amelius looked at her. What had become of her childish manner
+and her artless smile? He drew his chair nearer to her. "What young
+lady do you mean?" he asked.
+
+Sally shook her head, and traced lines with her pen on the blotting
+paper. "Oh, you can't have forgotten her! A young lady, riding on a
+grand white horse. All the people were admiring her. I wonder you cared
+to look at me, after that beautiful creature had gone by. Ah, she knows
+all sorts of things that I don't--_she_ doesn't sound a note at a time
+on the piano, and as often as not the wrong one; _she_ can say her
+multiplication table, and knows all the cities in the world. I dare say
+she's almost as learned as you are. If you had her living here with
+you, wouldn't you like it better than only having me!" She dropped her
+arms on the table, and laid her head on them wearily. "The dreadful
+streets!" she murmured, in low tones of despair. "Why did I think of
+the dreadful streets, and the night I met with you--after I had seen
+the young lady? Oh, Amelius, are you tired of me? are you ashamed of
+me?" She lifted her head again, before he could answer, and controlled
+herself by a sudden effort of resolution. "I don't know what's the
+matter with me this morning," she said, looking at him with a pleading
+fear in her eyes. "Never mind my nonsense--I'll do the copy!" She
+began to write the unendurable assertion that change is a law of
+Nature, with trembling fingers and fast heaving breath. Amelius took
+the pen gently out of her hand. His voice faltered as he spoke to her.
+
+"We will give up the lessons for today, Sally. You have had a bad
+night's rest, my dear, and you are feeling it--that's all. Do you think
+you are well enough to come out with me, and try if the air will revive
+you a little?"
+
+She rose, and took his hand, and kissed it. "I believe, if I was dying,
+I should get well enough to go out with you! May I ask one little
+favour? Do you mind if we don't go into the park today?"
+
+"What has made you take a dislike to the park, Sally?"
+
+"We might meet the beautiful young lady again," she answered, with her
+head down. "I don't want to do that."
+
+"We will go wherever you like, my child. You shall decide--not I."
+
+She gathered up her dress from the floor, and hurried away to her
+room--without looking back at him as usual when she opened the door.
+
+Left by himself, Amelius sat at the table, mechanically turning over
+the lesson-books. Sally had perplexed and even distressed him. His
+capacity to preserve the harmless relations between them, depended
+mainly on the mute appeal which the girl's ignorant innocence
+unconsciously addressed to him. He felt this vaguely, without
+absolutely realizing it. By some mysterious process of association
+which he was unable to follow, a saying of the wise Elder Brother at
+Tadmor revived in his memory, while he was trying to see his way
+through the difficulties that beset him. "You will meet with many
+temptations, Amelius, when you leave our Community," the old man had
+said at parting; "and most of them will come to you through women. Be
+especially on your guard, my son, if you meet with a woman who makes
+you feel truly sorry for her. She is on the high-road to your passions,
+through the open door of your sympathies--and all the more certainly if
+she is not aware of it herself." Amelius felt the truth expressed in
+those words as he had never felt it yet. There had been signs of a
+changing nature in Sally for some little time past. But they had
+expressed themselves too delicately to attract the attention of a man
+unprepared to be on the watch. Only on that morning, they had been
+marked enough to force themselves on his notice. Only on that morning,
+she had looked at him, and spoken to him, as she had never looked or
+spoken before. He began dimly to see the danger for both of them, to
+which he had shut his eyes thus far. Where was the remedy? what ought
+he to do? Those questions came naturally into his mind--and yet, his
+mind shrank from pursuing them.
+
+He got up impatiently, and busied himself in putting away the
+lesson-books--a small duty hitherto always left to Toff.
+
+It was useless; his mind dwelt persistently on Sally.
+
+While he moved about the room, he still saw the look in her eyes, he
+still heard the tone of her voice, when she spoke of the young lady in
+the park. The words of the good physician whom he had consulted about
+her recurred to his memory now. "The natural growth of her senses has
+been stunted, like the natural growth of her body, by starvation,
+terror, exposure to cold, and other influences inherent in the life
+that she has led." And then the doctor had spoken of nourishing food,
+pure air, and careful treatment--of the life, in short, which she had
+led at the cottage--and had predicted that she would develop into "an
+intelligent and healthy young woman." Again he asked himself, "What
+ought I to do?"
+
+He turned aside to the window, and looked out. An idea occurred to him.
+How would it be, if he summoned courage enough to tell her that he was
+engaged to be married?
+
+No! Setting aside his natural dread of the shock that he might inflict
+on the poor grateful girl who had only known happiness under his care,
+the detestable obstacle of Mr. Farnaby stood immovably in his way.
+Sally would be sure to ask questions about his engagement, and would
+never rest until they were answered. It had been necessarily impossible
+to conceal her mother's name from her. The discovery of her father, if
+she heard of Regina and Regina's uncle, would be simply a question of
+time. What might such a man be not capable of doing, what new act of
+treachery might he not commit, if he found himself claimed by the
+daughter whom he had deserted? Even if the expression of Mrs. Farnaby's
+last wishes had not been sacred to Amelius, this consideration alone
+would have kept him silent, for Sally's sake.
+
+He now doubted for the first time if he had calculated wisely in
+planning to trust Sally's sad story, after his marriage, to the
+sympathies of his wife. The jealousy that she might naturally feel of a
+young girl, who was an object of interest to her husband, did not
+present the worst difficulty to contend with. She believed in her
+uncle's integrity as she believed in her religion. What would she say,
+what would she do, if the innocent witness to Farnaby's infamy was
+presented to her; if Amelius asked the protection for Sally which her
+own father had refused to her in her infancy; and if he said, as he
+must say, "Your uncle is the man"?
+
+And yet, what prospect could he see but the prospect of making the
+disclosure when he looked to his own interests next, and thought of his
+wedding day? Again the sinister figure of Farnaby confronted him. How
+could he receive the wretch whom Regina would innocently welcome to the
+house? There would be no longer a choice left; it would be his duty to
+himself to tell his wife the terrible truth. And what would be the
+result? He recalled the whole course of his courtship, and saw Farnaby
+always on a level with himself in Regina's estimation. In spite of his
+natural cheerfulness, in spite of his inbred courage, his heart failed
+him, when he thought of the time to come.
+
+As he turned away from the window, Sally's door opened: she joined him,
+ready for the walk. Her spirits had rallied, assisted by the cheering
+influence of dressing to go out. Her charming smile brightened her
+face. In sheer desperation, reckless of what he did or said, Amelius
+held out both hands to welcome her. "That's right, Sally!" he cried.
+"Look pleased and pretty, my dear; let's be happy while we can--and let
+the future take care of itself!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 6
+
+The capricious influences which combine to make us happy are never so
+certain to be absent influences as when we are foolish enough to talk
+about them. Amelius had talked about them. When he and Sally left the
+cottage, the road which led them away from the park was also the road
+which led them past a church. The influences of happiness left them at
+the church door.
+
+Rows of carriages were in waiting; hundreds of idle people were
+assembled about the church steps; the thunderous music of the organ
+rolled out through the open doors--a grand wedding, with choral
+service, was in course of celebration. Sally begged Amelius to take her
+in to see it. They tried the front entrance, and found it impossible to
+get through the crowd. A side entrance, and a fee to a verger,
+succeeded better. They obtained space enough to stand on, with a view
+of the altar.
+
+The bride was a tall buxom girl, splendidly dressed: she performed her
+part in the ceremony with the most unruffled composure. The bridegroom
+exhibited an instructive spectacle of aged Nature, sustained by Art.
+His hair, his complexion, his teeth, his breast, his shoulders, and his
+legs, showed what the wig-maker, the valet, the dentist, the tailor,
+and the hosier can do for a rich old man, who wishes to present a
+juvenile appearance while he is buying a young wife. No less than three
+clergymen were present, conducting the sale. The demeanour of the rich
+congregation was worthy of the glorious bygone days of the Golden Calf.
+So far as could be judged by appearances, one old lady, in a pew close
+to the place at which Amelius and Sally were standing, seemed to be the
+only person present who was not favourably impressed by the ceremony.
+
+"I call it disgraceful," the old lady remarked to a charming young
+person seated next to her.
+
+But the charming young person--being the legitimate product of the
+present time--had no more sympathy with questions of sentiment than a
+Hottentot. "How can you talk so, grandmamma!" she rejoined. "He has
+twenty thousand a year--and that lucky girl will be mistress of the
+most splendid house in London."
+
+"I don't care," the old lady persisted; "it's not the less a disgrace
+to everybody concerned in it. There is many a poor friendless creature,
+driven by hunger to the streets, who has a better claim to our sympathy
+than that shameless girl, selling herself in the house of God! I'll
+wait for you in the carriage--I won't see any more of it."
+
+Sally touched Amelius. "Take me out!" she whispered faintly.
+
+He supposed that the heat in the church had been too much for her. "Are
+you better now?" he asked, when they got into the open air.
+
+She held fast by his arm. "Let's get farther away," she said. "That
+lady is coming after us--I don't want her to see me again. I am one of
+the creatures she talked about. Is the mark of the streets on me, after
+all you have done to rub it out?"
+
+The wild misery in her words presented another development in her
+character which was entirely new to Amelius. "My dear child," he
+remonstrated, "you distress me when you talk in that way. God knows the
+life you are leading now."
+
+But Sally's mind was still full of its own acutely painful sense of
+what the lady had said. "I saw her," she burst out--"I saw her look at
+me while she spoke!"
+
+"And she thought you better worth looking at than the bride--and quite
+right, too!" Amelius rejoined. "Come, come, Sally, be like yourself.
+You don't want to make me unhappy about you, I am sure?"
+
+He had taken the right way with her: she felt that simple appeal, and
+asked his pardon with all the old charm in her manner and her voice.
+For the moment, she was "Simple Sally" again. They walked on in
+silence. When they had lost sight of the church, Amelius felt her hand
+beginning to tremble on his arm. A mingled expression of tenderness and
+anxiety showed itself in her blue eyes as they looked up at him. "I am
+thinking of something else now," she said; "I am thinking of You. May I
+ask you something?"
+
+Amelius smiled. The smile was not reflected as usual in Sally's face.
+"It's nothing particular," she explained in an odd hurried way; "the
+church put it into my head. You--" She hesitated, and tried it under
+another form. "Will you be married yourself, Amelius, one of these
+days?"
+
+He did his best to evade the question. "I am not rich, Sally, like the
+old gentleman we have just seen."
+
+Her eyes turned away from him; she sighed softly to herself. "You will
+be married some day," she said. "Will you do one kind thing more for
+me, Amelius, when I die? You remember my reading in the newspaper of
+the new invention for burning the dead--and my asking you about it. You
+said you thought it was better than burying, and you had a good mind to
+leave directions to be burnt instead of buried, when your time came.
+When _my_ time has come, will you leave other directions about
+yourself, if I ask you?"
+
+"My dear, you are talking in a very strange way! If you will have it
+that I am to be married some day, what has that to do with your death?"
+
+"It doesn't matter, Amelius. When I have nothing left to live for, I
+suppose it's as likely as not I may die. Will you tell them to bury me
+in some quiet place, away from London, where there are very few graves?
+And when you leave your directions, don't say you are to be burnt.
+Say--when you have lived a long, long life, and enjoyed all the
+happiness you have deserved so well--say you are to be buried, and your
+grave is to be near mine. I should like to think of the same trees
+shading us, and the same flowers growing over us. No! don't tell me I'm
+talking strangely again--I can't bear it; I want you to humour me and
+be kind to me about this. Do you mind going home? I'm feeling a little
+tired--and I know I'm poor company for you today."
+
+The talk flagged at dinner-time, though Toff did his best to keep it
+going.
+
+In the evening, the excellent Frenchman made an effort to cheer the two
+dull young people. He came in confidentially with his fiddle, and said
+he had a favour to ask. "I possess some knowledge, sir, of the
+delightful art of dancing. Might I teach young Miss to dance? You see,
+if I may venture to say so, the other lessons--oh, most useful, most
+important, the other lessons! but they are just a little serious.
+Something to relieve her mind, sir--if you will forgive me for
+mentioning it. I plead for innocent gaiety--let us dance!"
+
+He played a few notes on the fiddle, and placed his right foot in
+position, and waited amiably to begin. Sally thanked him, and made the
+excuse that she was tired. She wished Amelius good night, without
+waiting until they were alone together--and, for the first time,
+without giving him the customary kiss.
+
+Toff waited until she had gone, and approached his master on tiptoe,
+with a low bow.
+
+"May I take the liberty of expressing an opinion, sir. A young girl who
+rejects the remedy of the fiddle presents a case of extreme gravity.
+Don't despair, sir! It is my pride and pleasure to be never at a loss,
+where your interests are concerned. This is, I think, a matter for the
+ministrations of a woman. If you have confidence in my wife, I venture
+to suggest a visit from Madame Toff."
+
+He discreetly retired, and left his master to think about it.
+
+The time passed--and Amelius was still thinking, and still as far as
+ever from arriving at a conclusion, when he heard a door opened behind
+him. Sally crossed the room before he could rise from his chair: her
+cheeks were flushed, her eyes were bright, her hair fell loose over her
+shoulders--she dropped at his feet, and hid her face on his knees. "I'm
+an ungrateful wretch!" she burst out; "I never kissed you when I said
+good night."
+
+With the best intentions, Amelius took the worst possible way of
+composing her--he treated her trouble lightly. "Perhaps you forgot it?"
+he said.
+
+She lifted her head, and looked at him, with the tears in her eyes.
+"I'm bad enough," she answered; "but not so bad as that. Oh, don't
+laugh! there's nothing to laugh at. Have you done with liking me? Are
+you angry with me for behaving so badly all day, and bidding you good
+night as if you were Toff? You shan't be angry with me!" She jumped up,
+and sat on his knee, and put her arms round his neck. "I haven't been
+to bed," she whispered; "I was too miserable to go to sleep. I don't
+know what's been the matter with me today. I seem to be losing the
+little sense I ever had. Oh, if I could only make you understand how
+fond I am of you! And yet I've had bitter thoughts, as if I was a
+burden to you, and I had done a wrong thing in coming here--and you
+would have told me so, only you pitied the poor wretch who had nowhere
+else to go." She tightened her hold round his neck, and laid her
+burning cheek against his face. "Oh, Amelius, my heart is sore! Kiss
+me, and say, 'Good night, Sally!'"
+
+He was young--he was a man--for a moment he lost his self control; he
+kissed her as he had never kissed her yet.
+
+Then, he remembered; he recovered himself; he put her gently away from
+him, and led her to the door of her room, and closed it on her in
+silence. For a little while, he waited alone. The interval over, he
+rang for Toff.
+
+"Do you think your wife would take Miss Sally as an apprentice?" he
+asked.
+
+Toff looked astonished. "Whatever you wish, sir, my wife will do. Her
+knowledge of the art of dressmaking is--" Words failed him to express
+his wife's immense capacity as a dressmaker. He kissed his hand in mute
+enthusiasm, and blew the kiss in the direction of Madame Toff's
+establishment. "However," he proceeded, "I ought to tell you one thing,
+sir; the business is small, small, very small. But we are all in the
+hands of Providence--the business will improve, one day." He lifted his
+shoulders and lifted his eyebrows, and looked perfectly satisfied with
+his wife's prospects.
+
+"I will go and speak to Madame Toff myself, tomorrow morning," Amelius
+resumed. "It's quite possible that I may be obliged to leave London for
+a little while--and I must provide in some way for Miss Sally. Don't
+say a word about it to her yet, Toff, and don't look miserable. If I go
+away, I shall take you with me. Good night."
+
+Toff, with his handkerchief halfway to his eyes, recovered his native
+cheerfulness. "I am invariably sick at sea, sir," he said; "but, no
+matter, I will attend you to the uttermost ends of the earth."
+
+So honest Amelius planned his way of escape from the critical position
+in which he found himself. He went to his bed, troubled by anxieties
+which kept him waking for many weary hours. Where was he to go to, when
+he left Sally? If he could have known what had happened, on that very
+day, on the other side of the Channel, he might have decided (in spite
+of the obstacle of Mr. Farnaby) on surprising Regina by a visit to
+Paris.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 7
+
+On the morning when Amelius and Sally (in London) entered the church to
+look at the wedding. Rufus (in Paris) went to the Champs Elysees to
+take a walk.
+
+He had advanced half-way up the magnificent avenue, when he saw Regina
+for the second time, taking her daily drive, with an elderly woman in
+attendance on her. Rufus took off his hat again, perfectly impenetrable
+to the cold reception which he had already experienced. Greatly to his
+surprise, Regina not only returned his salute, but stopped the carriage
+and beckoned to him to speak to her. Looking at her more closely, he
+perceived signs of suffering in her face which completely altered her
+expression as he remembered it. Her magnificent eyes were dim and red;
+she had lost her rich colour; her voice trembled as she spoke to him.
+
+"Have you a few minutes to spare?" she asked.
+
+"The whole day, if you like, Miss," Rufus answered.
+
+She turned to the woman who accompanied her. "Wait here for me,
+Elizabeth; I have something to say to this gentleman."
+
+With those words, she got out of the carriage. Rufus offered her his
+arm. She put her hand in it as readily as if they had been old friends.
+"Let us take one of the side paths," she said; "they are almost
+deserted at this time of day. I am afraid I surprise you very much. I
+can only trust to your kindness to forgive me for passing you without
+notice the last time we met. Perhaps it may be some excuse for me that
+I am in great trouble. It is just possible you may be able to relieve
+my mind. I believe you know I am engaged to be married?"
+
+Rufus looked at her with a sudden expression of interest. "Is this
+about Amelius?" he asked.
+
+She answered him almost inaudibly--"Yes."
+
+Rufus still kept his eyes fixed on her. "I don't wish to say anything,
+Miss," he explained; "but, if you have any complaint to make of
+Amelius, I should take it as a favour if you would look me straight in
+the face, and mention it plainly."
+
+In the embarrassment which troubled Regina at that moment, he had
+preferred the two requests of all others with which it was most
+impossible for her to comply. She still looked obstinately on the
+ground; and, instead of speaking of Amelius, she diverged to the
+subject of Mr. Farnaby's illness.
+
+"I am staying in Paris with my uncle," she said. "He has had a long
+illness; but he is strong enough now to speak to me of things that have
+been on his mind for some time past. He has so surprised me; he has
+made me so miserable about Amelius--" She paused, and put her
+handkerchief to her eyes. Rufus said nothing to console her--he waited
+doggedly until she was ready to go on. "You know Amelius well," she
+resumed; "you are fond of him; you believe in him, don't you? Do you
+think he is capable of behaving basely to any person who trusts him? Is
+it likely, is it possible, he could be false and cruel to Me?"
+
+The mere question roused the indignation of Rufus. "Whoever said that
+of him, Miss, told you a lie! I answer for my boy as I answer for
+myself."
+
+She looked at him at last, with a sudden expression of relief. "I said
+so too," she rejoined; "I said some enemy had slandered him. My uncle
+won't tell me who it is. He positively forbids me to write to Amelius;
+he tells me I must never see Amelius again--he is going to write and
+break off the engagement. Oh, it's too cruel! too cruel!"
+
+Thus far they had been walking on slowly. But now Rufus stopped,
+determined to make her speak plainly.
+
+"Take a word of advice from me, Miss," he said. "Never trust anybody by
+halves. There's nothing I'm not ready to do, to set this matter right;
+but I must know what I'm about first. What's said against Amelius? Out
+with it, no matter what 'tis! I'm old enough to be your father; and I
+feel for you accordingly--I do."
+
+The thorough sincerity of tone and manner which accompanied those words
+had its effect. Regina blushed and trembled--but she spoke out.
+
+"My uncle says Amelius has disgraced himself, and insulted me; my uncle
+says there is a person--a girl living with him--" She stopped, with a
+faint cry of alarm. Her hand, still testing on the arm of Rufus, felt
+him start as the allusion to the girl passed her lips. "You have heard
+of it!" she cried. "Oh, God help me, it's true!"
+
+"True?" Rufus repeated, with stern contempt. "What's come to you?
+Haven't I told you already, it's a lie? I'll answer to it, Amelius is
+true to you. Will that do? No? You're an obstinate one, Miss--that you
+are. Well! it's due to the boy that I should set him right with you, if
+words will do it. You know how he's been brought up at Tadmor? Bear
+that in mind--and now you shall have the truth of it, on the word of an
+honest man."
+
+Without further preface, he told her how Amelius had met with Sally,
+insisting strongly on the motives of pure humanity by which his friend
+had been actuated. Regina listened with an obstinate expression of
+distrust which would have discouraged most men. Rufus persisted,
+nevertheless; and, to some extent at least, succeeded in producing the
+right impression. When he reached the close of the narrative--when he
+asserted that he had himself seen Amelius confide the girl unreservedly
+to the care of a lady who was a dear and valued friend of his own; and
+when he declared that there had been no after-meeting between them and
+no written correspondence--then, at last, Regina owned that he had not
+encouraged her to trust in the honour of Amelius, without reason to
+justify him. But, even under these circumstances, there was a residue
+of suspicion still left in her mind. She asked for the name of the lady
+to whose benevolent assistance Amelius had been indebted. Rufus took
+out one of his cards, and wrote Mrs. Payson's name and address on it.
+
+"Your nature, my dear, is not quite so confiding as I could have wished
+to see it," he said, quietly handing her the card. "But we can't change
+our natures--can we? And you're not bound to believe a man like me,
+without witnesses to back him. Write to Mrs. Payson, and make your mind
+easy. And, while we are about it, tell me where I can telegraph to you
+tomorrow--I'm off to London by the night mail."
+
+"Do you mean, you are going to see Amelius?
+
+"That is so. I'm too fond of Amelius to let this trouble rest where
+'tis now. I've been away from him, here in Paris, for some little
+time--and you may tell me (and quite right, too) I can't answer for
+what may have been going on in my absence. No! now we are about it,
+we'll have it out. I mean to see Amelius and see Mrs. Payson, tomorrow
+morning. Just tell your uncle to hold his hand, before he breaks off
+your marriage, and wait for a telegram from me. Well? and this is your
+address, is it? I know the hotel. A nice look-out on the Twillery
+Gardens--but a bad cellar of wine, as I hear. I'm at the Grand Hotel
+myself, if there's anything else that troubles you before evening. Now
+I look at you again, I reckon there's something more to be said, if
+you'll only let it find its way to your tongue. No; it ain't thanks.
+We'll take the gratitude for granted, and get to what's behind it.
+There's your carriage--and the good lady looks tired of waiting. Well,
+now?"
+
+"It's only one thing," Regina acknowledged, with her eyes on the ground
+again. "Perhaps, when you go to London, you may see the--"
+
+"The girl?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"It's not likely. Say I do see her--what then?"
+
+Regina's colour began to show itself again. "If you do see her," she
+said, "I beg and entreat you won't speak of _me_ in her hearing. I
+should die of the shame of it, if she thought herself asked to give him
+up out of pity for me. Promise I am not to be brought forward; promise
+you won't even mention my having spoken to you about it. On your word
+of honour!"
+
+Rufus gave her his promise, without showing any hesitation, or making
+any remark. But when she shook hands with him, on returning to the
+carriage, he held her hand for a moment. "Please to excuse me, Miss, if
+I ask one question," he said, in tones too low to be heard by any other
+person. "Are you really fond of Amelius?"
+
+"I am surprised you should doubt it," she answered; "I am more--much
+more than fond of him!"
+
+Rufus handed her silently into the carriage, "Fond of him, are you?" he
+thought, as he walked away by himself. "I reckon it's a sort of
+fondness that don't wear well, and won't stand washing."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 8
+
+Early the next morning, Rufus rang at the cottage gate.
+
+"Well, Mr. Frenchman, and how do _you_ git along? And how's Amelius?"
+
+Toff, standing before the gate, answered with the utmost respect, but
+showed no inclination to let the visitor in.
+
+"Amelius has his intervals of laziness," Rufus proceeded; "I bet he's
+in bed!"
+
+"My young master was up and dressed an hour ago, sir--he has just gone
+out."
+
+"That is so, is it? Well, I'll wait till he comes back." He pushed by
+Toff, and walked into the cottage. "Your foreign ceremonies are clean
+thrown away on me," he said, as Toff tried to stop him in the hall.
+"I'm the American savage; and I'm used up with travelling all night.
+Here's a little order for you: whisky, bitters, lemon, and ice--I'll
+take a cocktail in the library."
+
+Toff made a last desperate effort to get between the visitor and the
+door. "I beg your pardon, sir, a thousand times; I must most
+respectfully entreat you to wait--"
+
+Before he could explain himself, Rufus, with the most perfect good
+humour, pulled the old man out of his way. "What's troubling this
+venerable creature's mind--" he inquired of himself, "does he think I
+don't know my way in?"
+
+He opened the library door--and found himself face to face with Sally.
+She had risen from her chair, hearing voices outside, and hesitating
+whether to leave the room or not. They confronted each other, on either
+side of the table, in silent dismay. For once Rufus was so completely
+bewildered, that he took refuge in his customary form of greeting
+before he was aware of it himself.
+
+"How do you find yourself, Miss? I take pleasure in renewing our
+acquaintance,--Thunder! that's not it; I reckon I'm off my head. Do me
+the favour, young woman, to forget every word I've said to you. If any
+mortal creature had told me I should find you here, I should have said
+'twas a lie--and I should have been the liar. That makes a man feel
+bad, I can tell you. No! don't slide off, if you please, into the next
+room--_that_ won't set things right, nohow. Sit you down again. Now I'm
+here, I have something to say. I'll speak first to Mr. Frenchman.
+Listen to this, old sir. If I happen to want a witness standing in the
+doorway, I'll ring the bell; for the present I can do without you. Bong
+Shewer, as we say in your country." He proceeded to shut the door on
+Toff and his remonstrances.
+
+"I protest, sir, against acts of violence, unworthy of a gentleman!"
+cried Toff, struggling to get back again.
+
+"Be as angry as you please in the kitchen," Rufus answered, persisting
+in closing the door; "I won't have a noise up here. If you know where
+your master is, go and fetch him--and the sooner the better." He turned
+back to Sally, and surveyed her for a while in terrible silence. She
+was afraid to look at him; her eyes were on the book which she had been
+reading when he came in. "You look to me," Rufus remarked, "as if you
+had been settled here for a time. Never mind your book now; you can go
+back to your reading after we've had a word or two together first." He
+reached out his long arm, and pulled the book to his own side of the
+table. Sally innocently silenced him for the second time. He opened the
+book, and discovered--the New Testament.
+
+"It's my lesson, if you please, sir. I'm to learn it where the pencil
+mark is, before Amelius comes back." She offered her poor little
+explanation, trembling with terror. In spite of himself, Rufus began to
+look at her less sternly.
+
+"So you call him 'Amelius', do you?" he said. "I note that, Miss, as an
+unfavourable sign to begin with. How long, if you please, has Amelius
+turned schoolmarm, for your young ladyship's benefit? Don't you
+understand? Well, you're not the only inhabitant of Great Britain who
+don't understand the English language. I'll put it plainer. When I last
+saw Amelius, you were learning your lessons at the Home. What ill wind,
+Miss, blew you in here? Did Amelius fetch you, or did you come of your
+own accord, without waiting to be whistled for?" He spoke coarsely but
+not ill-humouredly. Sally's pretty downcast face was pleading with him
+for mercy, and (as he felt, with supreme contempt for himself) was not
+altogether pleading in vain. "If I guessed that you ran away from the
+home," he resumed, "should I guess right?"
+
+She answered with a sudden accession of confidence. "Don't blame
+Amelius," she said; "I did run away. I couldn't live without him."
+
+"You don't know how you can live, young one, till you've tried the
+experiment. Well, and what did they do at the Home? Did they send after
+you, to fetch you back?"
+
+"They wouldn't take me back--they sent my clothes here after me."
+
+"Ah, those were the rules, I reckon. I begin to see my way to the end
+of it now. Amelius gave you house-room?"
+
+She looked at him proudly. "He gave me a room of my own," she said.
+
+His next question was the exact repetition of the question which he had
+put to Regina in Paris. The only variety was in the answer that he
+received.
+
+"Are you fond of Amelius?"
+
+"I would die for him!"
+
+Rufus had hitherto spoken, standing. He now took a chair.
+
+"If Amelius had not been brought up at Tadmor," he said, "I should take
+my hat, and wish you good morning. As things are, a word more may be a
+word in season. Your lessons here seem to have agreed with you, Miss.
+You're a different sort of girl to what you were when I last saw you."
+
+She surprised him by receiving that remark in silence. The colour left
+her face. She sighed bitterly. The sigh puzzled Rufus: he held his
+opinion of her in suspense, until he had heard more.
+
+"You said just now you would die for Amelius," he went on, eyeing her
+attentively. "I take that to be a woman's hysterical way of mentioning
+that she feels interest in Amelius. Are you fond enough of him to leave
+him, if you could only be persuaded that leaving him was for his good?"
+
+She abruptly left the table, and went to the window. When her back was
+turned to Rufus, she spoke. "Am I a disgrace to him?" she asked, in
+tones so faint that he could barely hear them. "I have had my fears of
+it, before now."
+
+If he had been less fond of Amelius, his natural kindness of heart
+might have kept him silent. Even as it was, he made no direct reply.
+"You remember how you were living when Amelius first met with you?" was
+all he said.
+
+The sad blue eyes looked at him in patient sorrow; the low sweet voice
+answered--"Yes." Only a look and a word--only the influence of an
+instant--and, in that instant, Rufus's last doubts of her vanished!
+
+"Don't think I say it reproachfully, my child! I know it was not your
+fault; I know you are to be pitied, and not blamed."
+
+She turned her face towards him--pale, quiet, and resigned. "Pitied,
+and not blamed," she repeated. "Am I to be forgiven?"
+
+He shrank from answering her. There was silence.
+
+"You said just now," she went on, "that I looked like a different girl,
+since you last saw me. I _am_ a different girl. I think of things that
+I never thought of before--some change, I don't know what, has come
+over me. Oh, my heart does hunger so to be good! I do so long to
+deserve what Amelius has done for me! You have got my book
+there--Amelius gave it to me; we read in it every day. If Christ had
+been on earth now, is it wrong to think that Christ would have forgiven
+me?"
+
+"No, my dear; it's right to think so."
+
+"And, while I live, if I do my best to lead a good life, and if my last
+prayer to God is to take me to heaven, shall I be heard?"
+
+"You will be heard, my child, I don't doubt it. But, you see, you have
+got the world about you to reckon with--and the world has invented a
+religion of its own. There's no use looking for it in this book of
+yours. It's a religion with the pride of property at the bottom of it,
+and a veneer of benevolent sentiment at the top. It will be very sorry
+for you, and very charitable towards you: in short, it will do
+everything for you except taking you back again."
+
+She had her answer to that. "Amelius has taken me back again," she
+said.
+
+"Amelius has taken you back again," Rufus agreed. "But there's one
+thing he's forgotten to do; he has forgotten to count the cost. It
+seems to be left to me to do that. Look here, my girl! I own I doubted
+you when I first came into this room; and I'm sorry for it, and I beg
+your pardon. I do believe you're a good girl--I couldn't say why if I
+was asked, but I do believe it for all that. I wish there was no more
+to be said--but there is more; and neither you nor I must shirk it.
+Public opinion won't deal as tenderly with you as I do; public opinion
+will make the worst of you, and the worst of Amelius. While you're
+living here with him--there's no disguising it--you're innocently in
+the way of the boy's prospects in life. I don't know whether you
+understand me?"
+
+She had turned away from him; she was looking out of the window once
+more.
+
+"I understand you," she answered. "On the night when Amelius met with
+me, he did wrong to take me away with him. He ought to have left me
+where I was."
+
+"Wait a bit! that's as far from my meaning as far can be. There's a
+look-out for everybody; and, if you'll trust me, I'll find a look-out
+for _you."_
+
+She paid no heed to what he said: her next words showed that she was
+pursuing her own train of thought.
+
+"I am in the way of his prospects in life," she resumed. "You mean that
+he might be married some day, but for me?"
+
+Rufus admitted it cautiously. "The thing might happen," was all he
+said.
+
+"And his friends might come and see him," she went on; her face still
+turned away, and her voice sinking into dull subdued tones. "Nobody
+comes here now. You see I understand you. When shall I go away? I had
+better not say good-bye, I suppose?--it would only distress him. I
+could slip out of the house, couldn't I?"
+
+Rufus began to feel uneasy. He was prepared for tears--but not for such
+resignation as this. After a little hesitation, he joined her at the
+window. She never turned towards him; she still looked out straight
+before her; her bright young face had turned pitiably rigid and pale.
+He spoke to her very gently; advising her to think of what he had said,
+and to do nothing in a hurry. She knew the hotel at which he stayed
+when he was in London; and she could write to him there. If she decided
+to begin a new life in another country, he was wholly and truly at her
+service. He would provide a passage for her in the same ship that took
+him back to America. At his age, and known as he was in his own
+neighbourhood, there would be no scandal to fear. He could get her
+reputably and profitably employed, in work which a young girl might
+undertake. "I'll be as good as a father to you, my poor child," he
+said, "don't think you're going to be friendless, if you leave Amelius.
+I'll see to that! You shall have honest people about you--and innocent
+pleasure in your new life."
+
+She thanked him, still with the same dull tearless resignation. "What
+will the honest people say," she asked, "when they know who I am?"
+
+"They have no business to know who you are--and they shan't know it."
+
+"Ah! it comes back to the same thing," she said. "You must deceive the
+honest people, or you can do nothing for me. Amelius had better have
+left me where I was! I disgraced nobody, I was a burden to nobody,
+_there._ Cold and hunger and ill-treatment can sometimes be merciful
+friends, in their way. If I had been left to them, they would have laid
+me at rest by this time." She turned to Rufus, before he could speak to
+her. "I'm not ungrateful, sir; I'll think of it, as you say; and I'll
+do all that a poor foolish creature can do, to be worthy of the
+interest you take in me." She lifted her hand to her head, with a
+momentary expression of pain. "I've got a dull kind of aching here,"
+she said; "it reminds me of my old life, when I was sometimes beaten on
+the head. May I go and lie down a little, by myself?"
+
+Rufus took her hand, and pressed it in silence. She looked back at him
+as she opened the door of her room. "Don't distress Amelius," she said;
+"I can bear anything but that."
+
+Left alone in the library, Rufus walked restlessly to and fro, driven
+by a troubled mind. "I was bound to do it," he thought; "and I ought to
+be satisfied with myself. I'm not satisfied. The world is hard on
+women--and the rights of property is a darned bad reason for it!"
+
+The door from the hall was suddenly thrown open. Amelius entered the
+room. He looked flushed and angry--he refused to take the hand that
+Rufus offered to him.
+
+"What's this I hear from Toff? It seems that you forced your way in
+when Sally was here. There are limits to the liberties that a man may
+take in his friend's house."
+
+"That's true," said Rufus quietly. "But when a man hasn't taken
+liberties, there don't seem much to be said. Sally was at the Home,
+when I last saw you--and nobody told me I should find her in this
+room."
+
+"You might have left the room, when you found her here. You have been
+talking to her. If you have said anything about Regina--"
+
+"I have said nothing about Miss Regina. You have a hot temper of your
+own, Amelius. Wait a bit, and let it cool."
+
+"Never mind my temper. I want to know what you have been saying to
+Sally. Stop! I'll ask Sally herself." He crossed the room to the inner
+door, and knocked. "Come in here, my dear; I want to speak to you."
+
+The answer reached him faintly through the door. "I have got a bad
+headache, Amelius. Please let me rest a little." He turned back to
+Rufus, and lowered his voice. But his eyes flashed; he was more angry
+than ever.
+
+"You had better go," he said. "I can guess how you have been talking to
+her--I know what her headache means. Any man who distresses that dear
+little affectionate creature is a man whom I hold as my enemy. I spit
+upon all the worldly considerations which pass muster with people like
+you! No sweeter girl than poor Sally ever breathed the breath of life.
+Her happiness is more precious to me than words can say. She is sacred
+to me! And I have just proved it--I have just come from a good woman,
+who will teach her an honest way of earning her bread. Not a breath of
+scandal shall blow on her. If you, or any people like you, think I will
+consent to cast her adrift on the world, or consign her to a prison
+under the name of a Home, you little know my nature and my principles.
+Here"--he snatched up the New Testament from the table, and shook it at
+Rufus--"here are my principles, and I'm not ashamed of them!"
+
+Rufus took up his hat.
+
+"There's one thing you'll be ashamed of, my son, when you're cool
+enough to think about it," he said; "you'll be ashamed of the words you
+have spoken to a friend who loves you. I'm not a bit angry myself. You
+remind me of that time on board the steamer, when the quarter-master
+was going to shoot the bird. You made it up with him--and you'll come
+to my hotel and make it up with me. And then we'll shake hands, and
+talk about Sally. If it's not taking another liberty, I'll trouble you
+for a light." He helped himself to a match from the box on the
+chimney-piece, lit his cigar, and left the room.
+
+He had not been gone half an hour, before the better nature of Amelius
+urged him to follow Rufus and make his apologies. But he was too
+anxious about Sally to leave the cottage, until he had seen her first.
+The tone in which she had answered him, when he knocked at her door,
+suggested, to his sensitive apprehension, that there was something more
+serious the matter with her than a mere headache. For another hour, he
+waited patiently, on the chance that he might hear her moving in her
+room. Nothing happened. No sound reached his ears, except the
+occasional rolling of carriage-wheels on the road outside.
+
+His patience began to fail him, as the second hour moved on. He went to
+the door, and listened, and still heard nothing. A sudden dread struck
+him that she might have fainted. He opened the door a few inches, and
+spoke to her. There was no answer. He looked in. The room was empty.
+
+He ran into the hall, and called to Toff. Was she, by any chance,
+downstairs? No. Or out in the garden? No. Master and man looked at each
+other in silence. Sally was gone.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 9
+
+Toff was the first who recovered himself.
+
+"Courage, sir!" he said. "With a little thinking, we shall see the way
+to find her. That rude American man, who talked with her this morning,
+may be the person who has brought this misfortune on us."
+
+Amelius waited to hear no more. There was the chance, at least, that
+something might have been said which had induced her to take refuge
+with Rufus. He ran back to the library to get his hat.
+
+Toff followed his master, with another suggestion. "One word more, sir,
+before you go. If the American man cannot help us, we must be ready to
+try another way. Permit me to accompany you as far as my wife's shop. I
+propose that she shall come back here with me, and examine poor little
+Miss's bedroom. We will wait, of course, for your return, before
+anything is done. In the mean time, I entreat you not to despair. It is
+at least possible that the means of discovery may be found in the
+bedroom."
+
+They went out together, taking the first cab that passed them. Amelius
+proceeded alone to the hotel.
+
+Rufus was in his room. "What's gone wrong?" he asked, the moment
+Amelius opened the door. "Shake hands, my son, and smother up that
+little trouble between us in silence. Your face alarms me--it does!
+What of Sally?"
+
+Amelius started at the question. "Isn't she here?" he asked.
+
+Rufus drew back. The mere action said, No, before he answered in words.
+
+"Have you seen nothing of her? heard nothing of her?"
+
+"Nothing. Steady, now! Meet it like a man; and tell me what has
+happened."
+
+Amelius told him in two words. "Don't suppose I'm going to break out
+again as I did this morning," he went on; "I'm too wretched and too
+anxious to be angry. Only tell me, Rufus, have you said anything to
+her--?"
+
+Rufus held up his hand. "I see what you're driving at. It will be more
+to the purpose to tell you what she said to me. From first to last,
+Amelius, I spoke kindly to her, and I did her justice. Give me a minute
+to rummage my memory." After brief consideration, he carefully repeated
+the substance of what had passed between Sally and himself, during the
+latter part of the interview between them. "Have you looked about in
+her room?" he inquired, when he had done. "There might be a trifling
+something to help you, left behind her there."
+
+Amelius told him of Toff's suggestion. They returned together at once
+to the cottage. Madame Toff was waiting to begin the search.
+
+The first discovery was easily made. Sally had taken off one or two
+little trinkets--presents from Amelius, which she was in the habit of
+wearing--and had left them, wrapped up in paper, on the dressing-table.
+No such thing as a farewell letter was found near them. The examination
+of the wardrobe came next--and here a startling circumstance revealed
+itself. Every one of the dresses which Amelius had presented to her was
+hanging in its place. They were not many; and they had all, on previous
+occasions, been passed in review by Toff's wife. She was absolutely
+certain that the complete number of the dresses was there in the
+bedroom. Sally must have worn something, in place of her new clothes.
+What had she put on?
+
+Looking round the room, Amelius noticed in a corner the box in which he
+had placed the first new dress that he had purchased for Sally, on the
+morning after they had met. He tried to open the box: it was
+locked--and the key was not to be found. The ever-ready Toff fetched a
+skewer from the kitchen, and picked the lock in two minutes. On lifting
+the cover, the box proved to be empty.
+
+The one person present who understood what this meant was Amelius.
+
+He remembered that Sally had taken her old threadbare clothes away with
+her in the box, when the angry landlady had insisted on his leaving the
+house. "I want to look at them sometimes," the poor girl had said, "and
+think how much better off I am now." In those miserable rags she had
+fled from the cottage, after hearing the cruel truth. "He had better
+have left me where I was," she had said. "Cold and hunger and
+ill-treatment would have laid me at rest by this time." Amelius fell on
+his knees before the empty box, in helpless despair. The conclusion
+that now forced itself on his mind completely unmanned him. She had
+gone back, in the old dress, to die under the cold, the hunger, and the
+horror of the old life.
+
+Rufus took his hand, and spoke to him kindly. He rallied, and dashed
+the tears from his eyes, and rose to his feet. "I know where to look
+for her," was all he said; "and I must do it alone." He refused to
+enter into any explanation, or to be assisted by any companion. "This
+is my secret and hers," he answered, "Go back to your hotel, Rufus--and
+pray that I may not bring news which will make a wretched man of you
+for the rest of your life." With that he left them.
+
+In another hour he stood once more on the spot at which he and Sally
+had met.
+
+The wild bustle and uproar of the costermongers' night market no longer
+rioted round him: the street by daylight was in a state of dreary
+repose. Slowly pacing up and down, from one end to another, he waited
+with but one hope to sustain him--the hope that she might have taken
+refuge with the two women who had been her only friends in the dark
+days of her life. Ignorant of the place in which they lived, he had no
+choice but to wait for the appearance of one or other of them in the
+street. He was quiet and resolved. For the rest of the day, and for the
+whole of the night if need be, his mind was made up to keep steadfastly
+on the watch.
+
+When he could walk no longer, he obtained rest and refreshment in the
+cookshop which he remembered so well; sitting on a stool near the
+window, from which he could still command a view of the street. The
+gas-lamps were alight, and the long winter's night was beginning to set
+in, when he resumed his weary march from end to end of the pavement. As
+the darkness became complete, his patience was rewarded at last.
+Passing the door of a pawnbroker's shop, he met one of the women face
+to face, walking rapidly, with a little parcel under her arm.
+
+She recognized him with a cry of joyful surprise.
+
+"Oh, sir, how glad I am to see you, to be sure! You've come to look
+after Sally, haven't you? Yes, yes; she's safe in our poor place--but
+in such a dreadful state. Off her head! clean off her head! Talks of
+nothing but you. 'I'm in the way of his prospects in life.' Over and
+over and over again, she keeps on saying that. Don't be afraid; Jenny's
+at home, taking care of her. She wants to go out. Hot and wild, with a
+kind of fever on her, she wants to go out. She asked if it rained. 'The
+rain may kill me in these ragged clothes,' she says; 'and then I shan't
+be in the way of his prospects in life.' We tried to quiet her by
+telling her it didn't rain--but it was no use; she was as eager as ever
+to go out. 'I may get another blow on the bosom,' she says; 'and,
+maybe, it will fall on the right place this time.' No! there's no fear
+of the brute who used to beat her--he's in prison. Don't ask to see her
+just yet, sir; please don't! I'm afraid you would only make her worse,
+if I took you to her now; I wouldn't dare to risk it. You see, we can't
+get her to sleep; and we thought of buying something to quiet her at
+the chemist's. Yes, sir, it would be better to get a doctor to her. But
+I wasn't going to the doctor. If I must tell you, I was obliged to take
+the sheets off the bed, to raise a little money--I was going to the
+pawnbroker's." She looked at the parcel under her arm, and smiled. "I
+may take the sheets back again, now I've met with you; and there's a
+good doctor lives close by--I can show you the way to him. Oh how pale
+you do look! Are you very much tired? It's only a little way to the
+doctor. I've got an arm at your service--but you mightn't like to be
+seen waiting with such a person as me."
+
+Mentally and physically, Amelius was completely prostrated. The woman's
+melancholy narrative had overwhelmed him: he could neither speak nor
+act. He mechanically put his purse in her hand, and went with her to
+the house of the nearest medical man.
+
+The doctor was at home, mixing drugs in his little surgery. After one
+sharp look at Amelius, he ran into a back parlour, and returned with a
+glass of spirits. "Drink this, sir," he said--"unless you want to find
+yourself on the floor in a fainting fit. And don't presume again on
+your youth and strength to treat your heart as if it was made of
+cast-iron." He signed to Amelius to sit down and rest himself, and
+turned to the woman to hear what was wanted of him. After a few
+questions, he said she might go; promising to follow her in a few
+minutes, when the gentleman would be sufficiently recovered to
+accompany him.
+
+"Well, sir, are you beginning to feel like yourself again?" He was
+mixing a composing draught, while he addressed Amelius in those terms.
+"You may trust that poor wretch, who has just left us, to take care of
+the sick girl," he went on, in the quaintly familiar manner which
+seemed to be habitual with him. "I don't ask how you got into her
+company--it's no business of mine. But I am pretty well acquainted with
+the people in my neighbourhood; and I can tell you one thing, in case
+you're anxious. The woman who brought you here, barring the one
+misfortune of her life, is as good a creature as ever breathed; and the
+other one who lives with her is the same. When I think of what they're
+exposed to--well! I take to my pipe, and compose my mind in that way.
+My early days were all passed as a ship's surgeon. I could get them
+both respectable employment in Australia, if I only had the money to
+fit them out. They'll die in the hospital, like the rest, if something
+isn't done for them. In my hopeful moments, I sometimes think of a
+subscription. What do you say? Will you put down a few shillings to set
+the example?"
+
+"I will do more than that," Amelius answered. "I have reasons for
+wishing to befriend both those two poor women; and I will gladly engage
+to find the outfit."
+
+The familiar old doctor held out his hand over the counter. "You're a
+good fellow, if ever there was one yet!" he burst out. "I can show
+references which will satisfy you that I am not a rogue. In the mean
+time, let's see what is the matter with this little girl; you can tell
+me about her as we go along." He put his bottle of medicine in his
+pocket, and his arm in the arm of Amelius--and so led the way out.
+
+When they reached the wretched lodging-house in which the women lived,
+he suggested that his companion would do well to wait at the door. "I'm
+used to sad sights: it would only distress you to see the place. I
+won't keep you long waiting."
+
+He was as good as his word. In little more than ten minutes, he joined
+Amelius again in the street.
+
+"Don't alarm yourself," he said. "The case is not so serious as it
+looks. The poor child is suffering under a severe shock to the brain
+and nervous system, caused by that sudden and violent distress you
+hinted at. My medicine will give her the one thing she wants to begin
+with--a good night's sleep."
+
+Amelius asked when she would be well enough to see him.
+
+"Ah, my young friend, it's not so easy to say, just yet! I could answer
+you to better purpose tomorrow. Won't that do? Must I venture on a rash
+opinion? She ought to be composed enough to see you in three or four
+days. And, when that time comes, it's my belief you will do more than I
+can do to set her right again."
+
+Amelius was relieved, but not quite satisfied yet. He inquired if it
+was not possible to remove her from that miserable place.
+
+"Quite impossible--without doing her serious injury. They have got
+money to go on with; and I have told you already, she will be well
+taken care of. I will look after her myself tomorrow morning. Go home,
+and get to bed, and eat a bit of supper first, and make your mind easy.
+Come to my house at twelve o'clock, noon, and you will find me ready
+with my references, and my report of the patient. Surgeon Pinfold,
+Blackacre Buildings; there's the address. Good night."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 10
+
+After Amelius had left him, Rufus remembered his promise to communicate
+with Regina by telegraph.
+
+With his strict regard for truth, it was no easy matter to decide on
+what message he should send. To inspire Regina, if possible, with his
+own unshaken belief in the good faith of Amelius, appeared, on
+reflection, to be all that he could honestly do, under present
+circumstances. With an anxious and foreboding mind, he despatched his
+telegram to Paris in these terms:--"Be patient for a while, and do
+justice to A. He deserves it."
+
+Having completed his business at the telegraph-office, Rufus went next
+to pay his visit to Mrs. Payson.
+
+The good lady received him with a grave face and a distant manner, in
+startling contrast to the customary warmth of her welcome. "I used to
+think you were a man in a thousand," she began abruptly; "and I find
+you are no better than the rest of them. If you have come to speak to
+me about that blackguard young Socialist, understand, if you please,
+that I am not so easily imposed upon as Miss Regina. I have done my
+duty; I have opened her eyes to the truth, poor thing. Ah, you ought to
+be ashamed of yourself."
+
+Rufus kept his temper, with his habitual self-command. "It's possible
+you may be right," he said quietly; "but the biggest rascal living has
+a claim to an explanation, when a lady puzzles him. Have you any
+particular objection, old friend, to tell me what you mean?"
+
+The explanation was not of a nature to set his mind at ease.
+
+Regina had written, by the mail which took Rufus to England, repeating
+to Mrs. Payson what had passed at the interview in the Champs Elysees,
+and appealing to her sympathy for information and advice. Receiving the
+letter that morning, Mrs. Payson, acting on her own generous and
+compassionate impulses, had already answered it, and sent it to the
+post. Her experience of the unfortunate persons received at the Home
+was far from inclining her to believe in the innocence of a runaway
+girl, placed under circumstances of temptation. As an act of justice
+towards Regina, she enclosed to her the letter in which Amelius had
+acknowledged that Sally had passed the night under his roof.
+
+"I believe I am only telling you the shameful truth," Mrs. Payson had
+written, "when I add that the girl has been an inmate of Mr.
+Goldenheart's cottage ever since. If you can reconcile this disgraceful
+state of things, with Mr. Rufus Dingwell's assertion of his friend's
+fidelity to his marriage-engagement, I have no right, and no wish, to
+make any attempt to alter your opinion. But you have asked for my
+advice, and I must not shrink from giving it. I am bound as an honest
+woman, to tell you that your uncle's resolution to break off the
+engagement represents the course that I should have taken myself, if a
+daughter of my own had been placed in your painful and humiliating
+position."
+
+There was still ample time to modify this strong expression of opinion
+by the day's post. Rufus appealed vainly to Mrs. Payson to reconsider
+the conclusion at which she had arrived. A more charitable and
+considerate woman, within the limits of her own daily routine, it would
+not be possible to find. But the largeness of mind which, having long
+and trustworthy experience of a rule, can nevertheless understand that
+other minds may have equal experience of the exception to the rule, was
+one of the qualities which had not been included in the moral
+composition of Mrs. Payson. She held firmly to her own narrowly
+conscientious sense of her duty; stimulated by a natural indignation
+against Amelius, who had bitterly disappointed her--against Rufus, who
+had not scrupled to take up his defence. The two old friends parted in
+coldness, for the first time in their lives.
+
+Rufus returned to his hotel, to wait there for news from Amelius.
+
+The day passed--and the one visitor who enlivened his solitude was an
+American friend and correspondent, connected with the agency which
+managed his affairs in England. The errand of this gentleman was to
+give his client the soundest and speediest advice, relating to the
+investment of money. Having indicated the safe and solid speculation,
+the visitor added a warning word, relating to the plausible and
+dangerous investments of the day. "For instance," he said, "there's
+that bank started by Farnaby--"
+
+"No need to warn me against Farnaby," Rufus interposed; "I wouldn't
+take shares in his bank if he made me a present of them."
+
+The American friend looked surprised. "Surely," he exclaimed, "you
+can't have heard the news already! They don't even know it yet on the
+Stock Exchange."
+
+Rufus explained that he had only spoken under the influence of personal
+prejudice against Mr. Farnaby.
+
+"What's in the wind now?" he asked.
+
+He was confidentially informed that a coming storm was in the wind: in
+other words, that a serious discovery had been made at the bank. Some
+time since, the directors had advanced a large sum of money to a man in
+trade, under Mr. Farnaby's own guarantee. The man had just died; and
+examination of his affairs showed that he had only received a few
+hundred pounds, on condition of holding his tongue. The bulk of the
+money had been traced to Mr. Farnaby himself, and had all been
+swallowed up by his newspaper, his patent medicine, and his other
+rotten speculations, apart from his own proper business. "You may not
+know it," the American friend concluded, "but the fact is, Farnaby rose
+from the dregs. His bankruptcy is only a question of time--he will drop
+back to the dregs; and, quite possibly, make his appearance to answer a
+criminal charge in a court of law. I hear that Melton, whose credit has
+held up the bank lately, is off to see his friend in Paris. They say
+Farnaby's niece is a handsome girl, and Melton is sweet on her. Awkward
+for Melton."
+
+Rufus listened attentively. In signing the order for his investments,
+he privately decided to stir no further, for the present, in the matter
+of his young friend's marriage-engagement.
+
+For the rest of the day and evening, he still waited for Amelius, and
+waited in vain. It was drawing near to midnight, when Toff made his
+appearance with a message from his master. Amelius had discovered
+Sally, and had returned in such a state of fatigue that he was only fit
+to take some refreshment, and to go to his bed. He would be away from
+home again, on the next morning; but he hoped to call at the hotel in
+the course of the day. Observing Toff's face with grave and steady
+scrutiny, Rufus tried to extract some further information from him. But
+the old Frenchman stood on his dignity, in a state of immovable
+reserve.
+
+"You took me by the shoulder this morning, sir, and spun me round," he
+said; "I do not desire to be treated a second time like a teetotum. For
+the rest, it is not my habit to intrude myself into my master's
+secrets."
+
+"It's not _my_ habit," Rufus coolly rejoined, "to bear malice. I beg to
+apologise sincerely, sir, for treating you like a teetotum; and I offer
+you my hand."
+
+Toff had got as far as the door. He instantly returned, with the
+dignity which a Frenchman can always command in the serious emergencies
+of his life. "You appeal to my heart and my honour, sir," he said. "I
+bury the events of the morning in oblivion; and I do myself the honour
+of taking your hand."
+
+As the door closed on him, Rufus smiled grimly. "You're not in the
+habit of intruding yourself into your master's secrets," he repeated.
+"If Amelius reads your face as I read it, he'll look over his shoulder
+when he goes out tomorrow--and, ten to one, he'll see you behind him in
+the distance!"
+
+Late on the next day, Amelius presented himself at the hotel. In
+speaking of Sally, he was unusually reserved, merely saying that she
+was ill, and under medical care, and then changing the subject. Struck
+by the depressed and anxious expression of his face, Rufus asked if he
+had heard from Regina. No: a longer time than usual had passed since
+Regina had written to him. "I don't understand it," he said sadly. "I
+suppose you didn't see anything of her in Paris?"
+
+Rufus had kept his promise not to mention Regina's name in Sally's
+presence. But it was impossible for him to look at Amelius, without
+plainly answering the question put to him, for the sake of the friend
+whom he loved. "I'm afraid there's trouble coming to you, my son, from
+that quarter." With those warning words, he described all that had
+passed between Regina and himself. "Some unknown enemy of yours has
+spoken against you to her uncle," he concluded. "I suppose you have
+made enemies, my poor old boy, since you have been in London?"
+
+"I know the man," Amelius answered. "He wanted to marry Regina before I
+met with her. His name is Melton."
+
+Rufus started. "I heard only yesterday, he was in Paris with Farnaby.
+And that's not the worst of it, Amelius. There's another of them making
+mischief--a good friend of mine who has shown a twist in her temper,
+that has taken me by surprise after twenty years' experience of her. I
+reckon there's a drop of malice in the composition of the best woman
+that ever lived--and the men only discover it when another woman steps
+in, and stirs it up. Wait a bit!" he went on, when he had related the
+result of his visit to Mrs. Payson. "I have telegraphed to Miss Regina
+to be patient, and to trust you. Don't you write to defend yourself,
+till you hear how you stand in her estimation, after my message.
+Tomorrow's post may tell."
+
+Tomorrow's post did tell.
+
+Two letters reached Amelius from Paris. One from Mr. Farnaby, curt and
+insolent, breaking off the marriage-engagement. The other, from Regina,
+expressed with great severity of language. Her weak nature, like all
+weak natures, ran easily into extremes, and, once roused into asserting
+itself, took refuge in violence as a shy person takes refuge in
+audacity. Only a woman of larger and firmer mind would have written of
+her wrongs in a more just and more moderate tone.
+
+Regina began without any preliminary form of address. She had no heart
+to upbraid Amelius, and no wish to speak of what she was suffering, to
+a man who had but too plainly shown that he had no respect for himself,
+and neither love, nor pity even, for her. In justice to herself, she
+released him from his promise, and returned his letters and his
+presents. Her own letters might be sent in a sealed packet, addressed
+to her at her uncle's place of business in London. She would pray that
+he might be brought to a sense of the sin that he had committed, and
+that he might yet live to be a worthy and a happy man. For the rest,
+her decision was irrevocable. His own letter to Mrs. Payson condemned
+him--and the testimony of an old and honoured friend of her uncle
+proved that his wickedness was no mere act of impulse, but a deliberate
+course of infamy and falsehood, continued over many weeks. From the
+moment when she made that discovery, he was a stranger to her--and she
+now bade him farewell.
+
+"Have you written to her?" Rufus asked, when he had seen the letters.
+
+Amelius reddened with indignation. He was not aware of it himself--but
+his look and manner plainly revealed that Regina had lost her last hold
+on him. Her letter had inflicted an insult--not a wound: he was
+outraged and revolted; the deeper and gentler feelings, the emotions of
+a grieved and humiliated lover, had been killed in him by her stern
+words of dismissal and farewell.
+
+"Do you think I would allow myself to be treated in that way, without a
+word of protest?" he said to Rufus. "I have written, refusing to take
+back my promise. 'I declare, on my word of honour, that I have been
+faithful to you and to my engagement'--that was how I put it--'and I
+scorn the vile construction which your uncle and his friend have placed
+upon an act of Christian mercy on my part.' I wrote more tenderly,
+before I finished my letter; feeling for her distress, and being
+anxious above all things not to add to it. We shall see if she has love
+enough left for me to trust my faith and honour, instead of trusting
+false appearances. I will give her time."
+
+Rufus considerately abstained from expressing any opinion. He waited
+until the morning when a reply might be expected from Paris; and then
+he called at the cottage.
+
+Without a word of comment, Amelius put a letter into his friend's hand.
+It was his own letter to Regina returned to him. On the back of it,
+there was a line in Mr. Farnaby's handwriting:--"If you send any more
+letters they will be burnt unopened." In those insolent terms the
+wretch wrote with bankruptcy and exposure hanging over his head.
+
+Rufus spoke plainly upon this. "There's an end of it now," he said.
+"That girl would never have made the right wife for you, Amelius:
+you're well out of it. Forget that you ever knew these people; and let
+us talk of something else. How is Sally?"
+
+At that ill-timed inquiry, Amelius showed his temper again. He was in a
+state of nervous irritability which made him apt to take offence, where
+no offence was intended. "Oh, you needn't be alarmed!" he answered
+petulantly; "there's no fear of the poor child coming back to live with
+me. She is still under the doctor's care."
+
+Rufus passed over the angry reply without notice, and patted him on the
+shoulder. "I spoke of the girl," he said, "because I wanted to help
+her; and I can help her, if you will let me. Before long, my son, I
+shall be going back to the United States. I wish you would go with me!"
+
+"And desert Sally!" cried Amelius.
+
+"Nothing of the sort! Before we go, I'll see that Sally is provided for
+to your satisfaction. Will you think of it, to please me?"
+
+Amelius relented. "Anything, to please you," he said.
+
+Rufus noticed his hat and gloves on the table, and left him without
+saying more. "The trouble with Amelius," he thought, as he closed the
+cottage gate, "is not over yet."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 11
+
+The day on which worthy old Surgeon Pinfold had predicted that Sally
+would be in a fair way of recovery had come and gone; and still the
+medical report to Amelius was the same:--"You must be patient, sir; she
+is not well enough to see you yet."
+
+Toff, watching his young master anxiously, was alarmed by the steadily
+progressive change in him for the worse, which showed itself at this
+time. Now sad and silent, and now again bitter and irritable, he had
+deteriorated physically as well as morally, until he really looked like
+the shadow of his former self. He never exchanged a word with his
+faithful old servant, except when he said mechanically, "good morning"
+or "good night." Toff could endure it no longer. At the risk of being
+roughly misinterpreted, he followed his own kindly impulse, and spoke.
+"May I own to you, sir," he said, with perfect gentleness and respect,
+"that I am indeed heartily sorry to see you so ill?"
+
+Amelius looked up at him sharply. "You servants always make a fuss
+about trifles. I am a little out of sorts; and I want a change--that's
+all. Perhaps I may go to America. You won't like that; I shan't
+complain if you look out for another situation."
+
+The tears came into the old man's eyes. "Never!" he answered fervently.
+"My last service, sir, if you send me away, shall be my dearly loved
+service here."
+
+All that was most tender in the nature of Amelius was touched to the
+quick. "Forgive me, Toff," he said; "I am lonely and wretched, and more
+anxious about Sally than words can tell. There can be no change in my
+life, until my mind is easy about that poor little girl. But if it does
+end in my going to America, you shall go with me--I wouldn't lose you,
+my good friend, for the world."
+
+Toff still remained in the room, as if he had something left to say.
+Entirely ignorant of the marriage engagement between Amelius and
+Regina, and of the rupture in which it had ended, he vaguely suspected
+nevertheless that his master might have fallen into an entanglement
+with some lady unknown. The opportunity of putting the question was now
+before him. He risked it in a studiously modest form.
+
+"Are you going to America to be married, sir?"
+
+Amelius eyed him with a momentary suspicion. "What has put that in your
+head?" he asked.
+
+"I don't know, sir," Toff answered humbly--"unless it was my own vivid
+imagination. Would there be anything very wonderful in a gentleman of
+your age and appearance conducting some charming person to the altar?"
+
+Amelius was conquered once more; he smiled faintly. "Enough of your
+nonsense, Toff! I shall never be married--understand that."
+
+Toff's withered old face brightened slyly. He turned away to withdraw;
+hesitated; and suddenly went back to his master.
+
+"Have you any occasion for my services, sir, for an hour or two?" he
+asked.
+
+"No. Be back before I go out, myself--be back at three o'clock."
+
+"Thank you, sir. My little boy is below, if you want anything in my
+absence."
+
+The little boy dutifully attending Toff to the gate, observed with
+grave surprise that his father snapped his fingers gaily at starting,
+and hummed the first bars of the Marseillaise. "Something is going to
+happen," said Toff's boy, on his way back to the house.
+
+
+From the Regent's Park to Blackacre Buildings is almost a journey from
+one end of London to the other. Assisted for part of the way by an
+omnibus, Toff made the journey, and arrived at the residence of Surgeon
+Pinfold, with the easy confidence of a man who knew thoroughly well
+where he was going, and what he was about. The sagacity of Rufus had
+correctly penetrated his intentions; he had privately followed his
+master, and had introduced himself to the notice of the surgeon--with a
+mixture of motives, in which pure devotion to the interests of Amelius
+played the chief part. His experience of the world told him that
+Sally's departure was only the beginning of more trouble to come. "What
+is the use of me to my master," he had argued, "except to spare him
+trouble, in spite of himself?"
+
+Surgeon Pinfold was prescribing for a row of sick people, seated before
+him on a bench. "You're not ill, are you?" he said sharply to Toff.
+"Very well, then, go into the parlour and wait."
+
+The patients being dismissed, Toff attempted to explain the object of
+his visit. But the old naval surgeon insisted on clearing the ground by
+means of a plain question first. "Has your master sent you here--or is
+this another private interview, like the last?"
+
+"It is all that is most private," Toff answered; "my poor master is
+wasting away in unrelieved wretchedness and suspense. Something must be
+done for him. Oh, dear and good sir, help me in this most miserable
+state of things! Tell me the truth about Miss Sally!"
+
+Old Pinfold put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the parlour
+wall, looking at the Frenchman with a complicated expression, in which
+genuine sympathy mingled oddly with a quaint sense of amusement.
+"You're a worthy chap," he said; "and you shall have the truth. I have
+been obliged to deceive your master about this troublesome young Sally;
+I have stuck to it that she is too ill to see him, or to answer his
+letters. Both lies. There's nothing the matter with her now, but a
+disease that I can't cure, the disease of a troubled mind. She's got it
+into her head that she has everlastingly degraded herself in his
+estimation by leaving him and coming here. It's no use telling
+her--what, mind you, is perfectly true--that she was all but out of her
+senses, and not in the least responsible for what she did at the time
+when she did it. She holds to her own opinion, nevertheless. 'What can
+he think of me, but that I have gone back willingly to the disgrace of
+my old life? I should throw myself out of the window, if he came into
+the room!' That's how she answers me--and, what makes matters worse
+still, she's breaking her heart about him all the time. The poor wretch
+is so eager for any little word of news about his health and his
+doings, that it's downright pitiable to see her. I don't think her
+fevered little brain will bear it much longer--and hang me if I can
+tell what to do next to set things right! The two women, her friends,
+have no sort of influence over her. When I saw her this morning, she
+was ungrateful enough to say, 'Why didn't you let me die?' How your
+master got among these unfortunate people is more than I know, and is
+no business of mine; I only wish he had been a different sort of man.
+Before I knew him as well as I know him now, I predicted, like a fool,
+that he would be just the person to help us in managing the girl. I
+have altered my opinion. He's such a glorious fellow--so impulsive and
+so tender-hearted--that he would be certain, in her present excited
+state, to do her more harm than good. Do you know if he is going to be
+married?"
+
+Toff, listening thus far in silent distress, suddenly looked up.
+
+"Why do you ask me, sir?"
+
+"It's an idle question, I dare say," old Pinfold remarked. "Sally
+persists in telling us she's in the way of his prospects in life--and
+it's got somehow into her perverse little head that his prospects in
+life mean his marriage, and she's in the way of _that._--Hullo! are you
+going already?"
+
+"I want to go to Miss Sally, sir. I believe I can say something to
+comfort her. Do you think she will see me?"
+
+"Are you the man who has got the nickname of Toff? She sometimes talks
+about Toff."
+
+"Yes, sir, yes! I am Theophile Leblond, otherwise Toff. Where can I find
+her?"
+
+Surgeon Pinfold rang a bell. "My errand-boy is going past the house, to
+deliver some medicine," he answered. "It's a poor place; but you'll
+find it neat and nice enough--thanks to your good master. He's helping
+the two women to begin life again out of this country; and, while
+they're waiting their turn to get a passage, they've taken an extra
+room and hired some decent furniture, by your master's own wish. Oh,
+here's the boy; he'll show you the way. One word before you go. What do
+you think of saying to Sally?"
+
+"I shall tell her, for one thing, sir, that my master is miserable for
+want of her."
+
+Surgeon Pinfold shook his head. "That won't take you very far on the
+way to persuading her. You will make _her_ miserable too--and there's
+about all you will get by it."
+
+Toff lifted his indicative forefinger to the side of his nose. "Suppose
+I tell her something else, sir? Suppose I tell her my master is not
+going to be married to anybody?"
+
+"She won't believe you know anything about it."
+
+"She will believe, for this reason," said Toff, gravely; "I put the
+question to my master before I came here; and I have it from his own
+lips that there is no young lady in the way, and that he is
+not--positively not--going to be married. If I tell Miss Sally this,
+sir, how do you say it will end? Will you bet me a shilling it has no
+effect on her?"
+
+"I won't bet a farthing! Follow the boy--and tell young Sally I have
+sent her a better doctor than I am."
+
+
+While Toff was on his way to Sally, Toff's boy was disturbing Amelius
+by the announcement of a visitor. The card sent in bore this
+inscription: "Brother Bawkwell, from Tadmor."
+
+Amelius looked at the card; and ran into the hall to receive the
+visitor, with both hands held out in hearty welcome. "Oh, I am so glad
+to see you!" he cried. "Come in, and tell me all about Tadmor!"
+
+Brother Bawkwell acknowledged the enthusiastic reception offered to him
+by a stare of grim surprise. He was a dry, hard old man, with a scrubby
+white beard, a narrow wrinkled forehead, and an obstinate lipless
+mouth; fitted neither by age nor temperament to be the intimate friend
+of any of his younger brethren among the Community. But, at that
+saddest time of his life, the heart of Amelius warmed to any one who
+reminded him of his tranquil and happy days at Tadmor. Even this frozen
+old Socialist now appeared to him, for the first time, under the
+borrowed aspect of a welcome friend.
+
+Brother Bawkwell took the chair offered to him, and opened the
+proceedings, in solemn silence, by looking at his watch. "Twenty-five
+minutes past two," he said to himself--and put the watch back again.
+
+"Are you pressed for time?" Amelius asked.
+
+"Much may be done in ten minutes," Brother Bawkwell answered, in a
+Scotch accent which had survived the test of half a lifetime in
+America. "I would have you know I am in England on a mission from the
+Community, with a list of twenty-seven persons in all, whom I am
+appointed to confer with on matters of varying importance. Yours,
+friend Amelius, is a matter of minor importance. I can give you ten
+minutes."
+
+He opened a big black pocket-book, stuffed with a mass of letters; and,
+placing two of them on the table before him, addressed Amelius as if he
+was making a speech at a public meeting.
+
+"I have to request your attention to certain proceedings of the Council
+at Tadmor, bearing date the third of December last; and referring to a
+person under sentence of temporary separation from the Community, along
+with yourself--"
+
+"Mellicent!" Amelius exclaimed.
+
+"We have no time for interruptions," Brother Bawkwell remarked. "The
+person _is_ Sister Mellicent; and the business before the Council was
+to consider a letter, under her signature, received December second.
+Said letter," he proceeded, taking up one of his papers, "is abridged
+as follows by the Secretary to the Council. In substance, the writer
+states (first): 'That the married sister under whose protection she has
+been living at New York is about to settle in England with her husband,
+appointed to manage the branch of his business established in London.
+(Second): That she, meaning Sister Mellicent, has serious reasons for
+not accompanying her relatives to England, and has no other friends to
+take charge of her welfare, if she remains in New York. (Third): That
+she appeals to the mercy of the Council, under these circumstances, to
+accept the expression of her sincere repentance for the offence of
+violating a Rule, and to permit a friendless and penitent creature to
+return to the only home left to her, her home at Tadmor.' No, friend
+Amelius--we have no time for expressions of sympathy; the first half of
+the ten minutes has nearly expired. I have further to notify you that
+the question was put to the vote, in this form: 'Is it consistent with
+the serious responsibility which rests on the Council, to consider the
+remission of any sentence justly pronounced under the Book of Rules?'
+The result was very remarkable; the votes for and against being equally
+divided. In this event, as you know, our laws provide that the decision
+rests with the Elder Brother--who gave his vote thereupon for
+considering the remission of the sentence; and moved the next
+resolution that the sentence be remitted accordingly. Carried by a
+small majority. Whereupon, Sister Mellicent was received again at
+Tadmor."
+
+"Ah, the dear old Elder Brother," cried Amelius--"always on the side of
+mercy!"
+
+Brother Bawkwell held up his hand in protest. "You seem to have no
+idea," he said, "of the value of time. Do be quiet! As travelling
+representative of the Council, I am further instructed to say, that the
+sentence pronounced against yourself stands duly remitted, in
+consequence of the remission of the sentence against Sister Mellicent.
+You likewise are free to return to Tadmor, at your own will and
+pleasure. But--attend to what is coming, friend Amelius!--the Council
+holds to its resolution that your choice between us and the world shall
+be absolutely unbiased. In the fear of exercising even an indirect
+influence, we have purposely abstained from corresponding with you.
+With the same motive we now say, that if you do return to us, it must
+be with no interference on our part. We inform you of an event that has
+happened in your absence--and we do no more."
+
+He paused, and looked again at his watch. Time proverbially works
+wonders. Time closed his lips.
+
+Amelius replied with a heavy heart. The message from the Council had
+recalled him from the remembrance of Mellicent to the sense of his own
+position. "My experience of the world has been a very hard one," he
+said. "I would gladly go back to Tadmor this very day, but for one
+consideration--" He hesitated; the image of Sally was before him. The
+tears rose in his eyes; he said no more.
+
+Brother Bawkwell, driven hard by time, got on his legs, and handed to
+Amelius the second of the two papers which he had taken out of his
+pocket-book.
+
+"Here is a purely informal document," he said; "being a few lines from
+Sister Mellicent, which I was charged to deliver to you. Be pleased to
+read it as quickly as you can, and tell me if there is any reply."
+
+There was not much to read:--"The good people here, Amelius, have
+forgiven me and let me return to them. I am living happily now, dear,
+in my remembrances of you. I take the walks that we once took
+together--and sometimes I go out in the boat on the lake, and think of
+the time when I told you my sad story. Your poor little pet creatures
+are under my care; the dog, and the fawn, and the birds--all well, and
+waiting for you, with me. My belief that you will come back to me
+remains the same unshaken belief that it has been from the first. Once
+more I say it--you will find me the first to welcome you, when your
+spirits are sinking under the burden of life, and your heart turns
+again to the friends of your early days. Until that time comes, think
+of me now and then. Good-bye."
+
+"I am waiting," said Brother Bawkwell, taking his hat in his hand.
+
+Amelius answered with an effort. "Thank her kindly in my name," he
+said: "that is all." His head drooped while he spoke; he fell into
+thought as if he had been alone in the room.
+
+But the emissary from Tadmor, warned by the minute-hand on the watch,
+recalled his attention to passing events. "You would do me a kindness,"
+said Brother Bawkwell, producing a list of names and addresses, "if you
+could put me in the way of finding the person named, eighth from the
+top. It's getting on towards twenty minutes to three."
+
+The address thus pointed out was at no great distance, on the northern
+side of the Regent's Park. Amelius, still silent and thoughtful, acted
+willingly as a guide. "Please thank the Council for their kindness to
+me," he said, when they reached their destination. Brother Bawkwell
+looked at friend Amelius with a calm inquiring eye. "I think you'll end
+in coming back to us," he said. "I'll take the opportunity, when I see
+you at Tadmor, of making a few needful remarks on the value of time."
+
+Amelius went back to the cottage, to see if Toff had returned, in his
+absence, before he paid his daily visit to Surgeon Pinfold. He called
+down the kitchen stairs, "Are you there, Toff?" And Toff answered
+briskly, "At your service, sir."
+
+The sky had become cloudy, and threatened rain. Not finding his
+umbrella in the hall, Amelius went into the library to look for it. As
+he closed the door behind him, Toff and his boy appeared on the kitchen
+stairs; both walking on tiptoe, and both evidently on the watch for
+something.
+
+Amelius found his umbrella. But it was characteristic of the melancholy
+change in him that he dropped languidly into the nearest chair, instead
+of going out at once with the easy activity of happier days. Sally was
+in his mind again; he was rousing his resolution to set the doctor's
+commands at defiance, and to insist on seeing her, come what might of
+it.
+
+He suddenly looked up. A slight sound had startled him.
+
+It was a faint rustling sound; and it came from the sadly silent room
+which had once been Sally's.
+
+He listened, and heard it again. He sprang to his feet--his heart beat
+wildly--he opened the door of the room.
+
+She was there.
+
+Her hands were clasped over her fast-heaving breast. She was powerless
+to look at him, powerless to speak to him--powerless to move towards
+him, until he opened his arms to her. Then, all the love and all the
+sorrow in the tender little heart flowed outward to him in a low
+murmuring cry. She hid her blushing face on his bosom. The rosy colour
+softly tinged her neck--the unspoken confession of all she feared, and
+all she hoped.
+
+It was a time beyond words. They were silent in each other's arms.
+
+But under them, on the floor below, the stillness in the cottage was
+merrily broken by an outburst of dance-music--with a rhythmical
+thump-thump of feet, keeping time to the cheerful tune. Toff was
+playing his fiddle; and Toff's boy was dancing to his father's music.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 12
+
+After waiting a day or two for news from Amelius, and hearing nothing,
+Rufus went to make inquiries at the cottage.
+
+"My master has gone out of town, sir," said Toff, opening the door.
+
+"Where?"
+
+"I don't know, sir."
+
+"Anybody with him?"
+
+"I don't know, sir."
+
+"Any news of Sally?"
+
+"I don't know, sir."
+
+Rufus stepped into the hall. "Look here, Mr. Frenchman, three times is
+enough. I have already apologized for treating you like a teetotum, on
+a former occasion. I'm afraid I shall do it again, sir, if I don't get
+an answer to my next question--my hands are itching to be at you, they
+are! When is Amelius expected back?"
+
+"Your question is positive, sir," said Toff, with dignity. "I am happy
+to be able to meet it with a positive reply. My master is expected back
+in three weeks' time."
+
+Having obtained some information at last, Rufus debated with himself
+what he should do next. He decided that "the boy was worth waiting
+for," and that his wisest course (as a good American) would be to go
+back, and wait in Paris.
+
+Passing through the Garden of the Tuileries, two or three days later,
+and crossing to the Rue de Rivoli, the name of one of the hotels in
+that quarter reminded him of Regina. He yielded to the prompting of
+curiosity, and inquired if Mr. Farnaby and his niece were still in
+Paris.
+
+The manager of the hotel was in the porter's lodge at the time. So far
+as he knew, he said, Mr. Farnaby and his niece, and an English
+gentleman with them, were now on their travels. They had left the hotel
+with an appearance of mystery. The courier had been discharged; and the
+coachman of the hired carriage which took them away had been told to
+drive straight forward until further orders. In short, as the manager
+put it, the departure resembled a flight. Remembering what his American
+agent had told him, Rufus received this information without surprise.
+Even the apparently incomprehensible devotion of Mr. Melton to the
+interests of such a man as Farnaby, failed to present itself to him as
+a perplexing circumstance. To his mind, Mr. Melton's conduct was
+plainly attributable to a reward in prospect; and the name of that
+reward was--Miss Regina.
+
+At the end of the three weeks, Rufus returned to London.
+
+Once again, he and Toff confronted each other on the threshold of the
+door. This time, the genial old man presented an appearance that was
+little less than dazzling. From head to foot he was arrayed in new
+clothes; and he exhibited an immense rosette of white ribbon in his
+button-hole.
+
+"Thunder!" cried Rufus. "Here's Mr. Frenchman going to be married!"
+
+Toff declined to humour the joke. He stood on his dignity as stiffly as
+ever. "Pardon me, sir, I possess a wife and family already."
+
+"Do you, now? Well--none of your know-nothing answers this time. Has
+Amelius come back?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"And what's the news of Sally?"
+
+"Good news, sir. Miss Sally has come back too."
+
+"You call that good news, do you? I'll say a word to Amelius. What are
+you standing there for? Let me by."
+
+"Pardon me once more, sir. My master and Miss Sally do not receive
+visitors today."
+
+"Your master and Miss Sally?" Rufus repeated. "Has this old creature
+been liquoring up a little too freely? What do you mean," he burst out,
+with a sudden change of tone to stern surprise--"what do you mean by
+putting your master and Sally together?"
+
+Toff shot his bolt at last. "They will be together, sir, for the rest
+of their lives. They were married this morning."
+
+
+Rufus received the blow in dead silence. He turned about, and went back
+to his hotel.
+
+Reaching his room, he opened the despatch box in which he kept his
+correspondence, and picked out the long letter containing the
+description by Amelius of his introduction to the ladies of the Farnaby
+family. He took up the pen, and wrote the indorsement which has been
+quoted as an integral part of the letter itself, in the Second Book of
+this narrative:--
+
+"Ah, poor Amelius! He had better have gone back to Miss Mellicent, and
+put up with the little drawback of her age. What a bright lovable
+fellow he was! Goodbye to Goldenheart!"
+
+
+Were the forebodings of Rufus destined to be fulfilled? This question
+will be answered, it is hoped, in a Second Series of The Fallen Leaves.
+The narrative of the married life of Amelius presents a subject too
+important to be treated within the limits of the present story--and the
+First Series necessarily finds its end in the culminating event of his
+life, thus far.
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Fallen Leaves, by Wilkie Collins
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FALLEN LEAVES ***
+
+This file should be named leave10.txt or leave10.zip
+Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, leave11.txt
+VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, leave10a.txt
+
+Produced by James Rusk
+
+Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we usually do not
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance
+of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing.
+Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections,
+even years after the official publication date.
+
+Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til
+midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement.
+The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at
+Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month.  A
+preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment
+and editing by those who wish to do so.
+
+Most people start at our Web sites at:
+http://gutenberg.net or
+http://promo.net/pg
+
+These Web sites include award-winning information about Project
+Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new
+eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!).
+
+
+Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement
+can get to them as follows, and just download by date.  This is
+also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the
+indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an
+announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter.
+
+http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext03 or
+ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext03
+
+Or /etext02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90
+
+Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want,
+as it appears in our Newsletters.
+
+
+Information about Project Gutenberg (one page)
+
+We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work.  The
+time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours
+to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright
+searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc.   Our
+projected audience is one hundred million readers.  If the value
+per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2
+million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text
+files per month:  1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+
+We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002
+If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total
+will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end.
+
+The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks!
+This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers,
+which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users.
+
+Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated):
+
+eBooks Year Month
+
+    1  1971 July
+   10  1991 January
+  100  1994 January
+ 1000  1997 August
+ 1500  1998 October
+ 2000  1999 December
+ 2500  2000 December
+ 3000  2001 November
+ 4000  2001 October/November
+ 6000  2002 December*
+ 9000  2003 November*
+10000  2004 January*
+
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created
+to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium.
+
+We need your donations more than ever!
+
+As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people
+and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut,
+Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois,
+Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts,
+Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New
+Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio,
+Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South
+Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West
+Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming.
+
+We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones
+that have responded.
+
+As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list
+will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states.
+Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state.
+
+In answer to various questions we have received on this:
+
+We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally
+request donations in all 50 states.  If your state is not listed and
+you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have,
+just ask.
+
+While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are
+not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting
+donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to
+donate.
+
+International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about
+how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made
+deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are
+ways.
+
+Donations by check or money order may be sent to:
+
+Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+PMB 113
+1739 University Ave.
+Oxford, MS 38655-4109
+
+Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment
+method other than by check or money order.
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by
+the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN
+[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154.  Donations are
+tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law.  As fund-raising
+requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be
+made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states.
+
+We need your donations more than ever!
+
+You can get up to date donation information online at:
+
+http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html
+
+
+***
+
+If you can't reach Project Gutenberg,
+you can always email directly to:
+
+Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com>
+
+Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message.
+
+We would prefer to send you information by email.
+
+
+**The Legal Small Print**
+
+
+(Three Pages)
+
+***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS**START***
+Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers.
+They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with
+your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from
+someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our
+fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement
+disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how
+you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to.
+
+*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS EBOOK
+By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
+eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept
+this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive
+a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by
+sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person
+you got it from. If you received this eBook on a physical
+medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request.
+
+ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM EBOOKS
+This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBooks,
+is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart
+through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project").
+Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright
+on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and
+distribute it in the United States without permission and
+without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth
+below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook
+under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark.
+
+Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market
+any commercial products without permission.
+
+To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable
+efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain
+works. Despite these efforts, the Project's eBooks and any
+medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other
+things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
+intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged
+disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer
+codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.
+
+LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES
+But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below,
+[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may
+receive this eBook from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook) disclaims
+all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including
+legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR
+UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT,
+INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE
+OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE
+POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES.
+
+If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of
+receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any)
+you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that
+time to the person you received it from. If you received it
+on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and
+such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement
+copy. If you received it electronically, such person may
+choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to
+receive it electronically.
+
+THIS EBOOK IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS
+TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT
+LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A
+PARTICULAR PURPOSE.
+
+Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or
+the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the
+above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you
+may have other legal rights.
+
+INDEMNITY
+You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation,
+and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated
+with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm
+texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including
+legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the
+following that you do or cause:  [1] distribution of this eBook,
+[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook,
+or [3] any Defect.
+
+DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm"
+You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by
+disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this
+"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg,
+or:
+
+[1]  Only give exact copies of it.  Among other things, this
+     requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the
+     eBook or this "small print!" statement.  You may however,
+     if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable
+     binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form,
+     including any form resulting from conversion by word
+     processing or hypertext software, but only so long as
+     *EITHER*:
+
+     [*]  The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and
+          does *not* contain characters other than those
+          intended by the author of the work, although tilde
+          (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may
+          be used to convey punctuation intended by the
+          author, and additional characters may be used to
+          indicate hypertext links; OR
+
+     [*]  The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at
+          no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent
+          form by the program that displays the eBook (as is
+          the case, for instance, with most word processors);
+          OR
+
+     [*]  You provide, or agree to also provide on request at
+          no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the
+          eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC
+          or other equivalent proprietary form).
+
+[2]  Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this
+     "Small Print!" statement.
+
+[3]  Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the
+     gross profits you derive calculated using the method you
+     already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  If you
+     don't derive profits, no royalty is due.  Royalties are
+     payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation"
+     the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were
+     legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent
+     periodic) tax return.  Please contact us beforehand to
+     let us know your plans and to work out the details.
+
+WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO?
+Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of
+public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed
+in machine readable form.
+
+The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time,
+public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses.
+Money should be paid to the:
+"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or
+software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at:
+hart@pobox.com
+
+[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only
+when distributed free of all fees.  Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by
+Michael S. Hart.  Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be
+used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be
+they hardware or software or any other related product without
+express permission.]
+
+*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END*
+
diff --git a/old/leave10.zip b/old/leave10.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0c7bd1a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/leave10.zip