Thesmellofrainwasintheair。Thecarraisednodust,butboredswiftlyon,searchingouttheroadwithitslamps。OnPutneyBridgeitsmarchwasstayedbyastringofwaggons。LordValleyslookedtorightandleft。Theriverreflectedthethousandlightsofbuildingspiledalonghersides,lampsoftheembankments,lanternsofmooredbarges。ThesinuouspallidbodyofthisgreatCreature,foreverglidingdowntothesea,rousedinhismindnosymbolicimage。Hehadhadtodowithher,yearsback,attheBoardofTrade,andknewherforwhatshewas,extremelydirty,andgettingabominablythinjustwherehewouldhavelikedherplump。Yet,ashelightedacigar,therecametohimaqueerfeeling——asifhewereinthepresenceofawomanhewasfondof。
　　"IhopetoGod,"hethought,"nothing'ilcomeofthesescares！"Thecarglidedonintothelongroad,swarmingwithtraffic,towardsthefashionableheartofLondon。Outsidestationers'shops,however,thepostersofeveningpaperswereofnoreassuringorder。
　　'THEPLOTTHICKENS。'
　　'MOREREVELATIONS。'
　　'GRAVESITUATIONTHREATENED。'
　　Andbeforeeachpostercouldbeseenalittleeddyinthestreamofthepassers—by——formedbypersonsglancingatthenews,anddisengagingthemselves,topressonagain。TheEarlofValleyscaughthimselfwonderingwhattheythoughtofit！Whatwaspassingbehindthosepaleroundsoffleshturnedtowardstheposters？
　　Didtheythinkatall,thesemenandwomeninthestreet？Whatwastheirattitudetowardsthisvaguelythreatenedcataclysm？Faceafterface,stolidandapathetic,expressednothing,noactivedesire,certainlynoenthusiasm,hardlyanydread。Poordevils！Thething,afterall,wasnomorewithintheircontrolthanitwaswithinthepowerofantstostoptheruinationoftheirant—heapbysomepassingboy！Itwasnodoubtquitetrue,thatthepeoplehadneverhadmuchvoiceinthemakingofwar。AndthewordsofaRadicalweekly,whichasanimpartialmanhealwaysforcedhimselftoread,recurredtohim。"Ignorantofthefacts,hypnotizedbythewords'Country'and'Patriotism';inthegripofmob—instinctandinbornprejudiceagainsttheforeigner;helplessbyreasonofhispatience,stoicism,goodfaith,andconfidenceinthoseabovehim;helplessbyreasonofhissnobbery,mutualdistrust,carelessnessforthemorrow,andlackofpublicspirit—inthefaceofWarhowimpotentandtobepitiedisthemaninthestreet！"Thatpaper,thoughclever,alwaysseemedtohimintolerablyhifalutin'！
　　ItwasdoubtfulwhetherhewouldgettoAscotthisyear。Andhismindflewforamomenttohispromisingtwo—year—oldCasetta;thendashedalmostviolently,asthoughinshame,totheAdmiraltyandthedoubtwhethertheywerefullyalivetopossibilities。HehimselfoccupiedasofterspotofGovernment,oneofthosealmostnominalofficesnecessarytoqualifyintotheCabinetcertaintriedminds,forwhomnomorestrenuouspostcanforthemomentbefound。FromtheAdmiraltyagainhisthoughtsleapedtohismother—in—law。
　　Wonderfuloldwoman！Whatastatesmanshewouldhavemade！Tooreactionary！DeuceofastraightlineshehadtakenaboutMrs。LeesNoel！Andwithaconnoisseur'stwingeofpleasureherecollectedthatlady'sfaceandfigureseenthatmorningashepassedhercottage。Mysteriousornot,thewomanwascertainlyattractive！
　　Verygracefulheadwithitsdarkhairwavedbackfromthemiddleovereithertemple——verycharmingfigure,nolumberofanysort！Bouquetabouther！Somestoryorother,nodoubt——noaffairofhis！Alwayssorryforthatsortofwoman！
　　AregimentofTerritorialsreturningfromamarchstayedtheprogressofhiscar。Heleanedforwardwatchingthemwithmuchthesamecontained,shrewd,criticallookhewouldhavebentonapackofhounds。Allthemistinessandspeculationinhismindwasgonenow。
　　Goodstampofman,wouldgiveacapitalaccountofthemselves！Theirfaces,flushedbyadayintheopen,weremaskedwithpassivity,or,withahalf—aggressive,half—jocularself—consciousness;theywereclearlynottroubledbyabstractdoubts,oranyvisionsofthehorrorsofwar。
　　Someoneraisedacheer'fortheTerriers！'LordValleyssawroundhimalittleseaofhats,risingandfalling,andheardasound,rathershrillandtentative,swellintohoarse,highclamour,andsuddenlydieout。"Seemkeenenough！"hethought。"Verylittledoesit！
　　Plentyoffightingspiritinthecountry。"Andagainathrillofpleasureshotthroughhim。
　　Then,asthelastsoldierpassed,hiscarslowlyforgeditswaythroughthestragglingcrowd,pressingonbehindtheregiment——menofallages,youths,afewwomen,younggirls,whoturnedtheireyesonhimwithanegligentstareasiftheirlivesweretooremotetopermitthemtotakeinterestinthispassingmanatease。
　　CHAPTERIV
　　AtMonkland,thatsamehour,inthelittlewhitewashed'withdrawing—
　　room'ofathatched,whitewashedcottage,twomensattalking,oneoneithersideofthehearth;andinalowchairbetweenthemadark—
　　eyedwomanleanedback,watching,thetipsofherdelicatethinfingerspressedtogether,orheldouttransparenttowardsthefire。
　　Alog,droppingnowandthen,turnedupitsglowingunderside;andthefirelightandthelamplightseemedsotohavesoakedintothewhitewallsthatawanwarmthexuded。Silverydunmoths,flutteringinfromthedarkgarden,keptvibrating,likespunshillings,overajade—greenbowlofcrimsonroses;andtherewasascent,aseverinthatoldthatchedcottage,ofwoodsmoke,flowers,andsweetbriar。
　　Themanontheleftwasperhapsforty,ratherabovemiddleheight,vigorous,active,straight,withblueeyesandasanguinefacethatglowedonsmallprovocation。Hishairwasverybright,almostred,andhisfierymoustacheswhichdescendedtothelevelofhischin,likeDonQuixote'sseemedbristlingandcharging。
　　Themanontherightwasnearerthirty,evidentlytall,wiry,andverythin。Hesatrathercrumpled,inhislowarmchair,withhandsclaspedroundaknee;andalittlecrucifiedsmilehauntedthelipsofhisleanface,which,withitsparchmenty,tanned,shavencheeks,anddeep—set,verylivingeyes,hadacertainbeauty。
　　Thesetwomen,soextravagantlyunlike,lookedateachotherlikeneighbouringdogs,who,havinglongdecidedthattheyarebetterapart,suddenlyfindthattheyhavemetatsomespotwheretheycannotpossiblyhaveafight。Andthewomanwatched;theowner,asitwere,ofone,butwho,fromsheerloveofdogs,hadalwaysstrokedandpattedtheother。
　　"So,Mr。Courtier,"saidtheyoungerman,whosedry,ironicvoice,likehissmile,seemeddefendingthefervidspiritinhiseyes;"allyousayonlyamounts,yousee,toadefenceoftheso—calledLiberalspirit;and,forgivemycandour,thatspirit,beinganimportationfromtherealmsofphilosophyandart,withersthemomentittouchespracticalaffairs。
　　Themanwiththeredmoustacheslaughed;thesoundwasqueer——atoncesogenialandsosardonic。
　　"Wellput！"hesaid:"Andfarbeitfrommetogainsay。Butsincecompromiseistheveryessenceofpolitics,high—priestsofcasteandauthority,likeyou,LordMiltoun,areeverybitasmuchoutofitasanyLiberalprofessor。"
　　"Idon'tagree！"
　　"Agreeornot,yourpositiontowardspublicaffairsisveryliketheChurch'sattitudetowardsmarriageanddivorce;asremotefromtherealitiesoflifeastheattitudeofthebelieverinFreeLove,andnotmorelikelytocatchon。Thedeathofyourpointofviewliesinitself——it'stoodried—upandfarfromthingsevertounderstandthem。Ifyoudon'tunderstandyoucanneverrule。Youmightjustaswellkeepyourhandsinyourpockets,asgointopoliticswithyournotions！"
　　"Ifearwemustcontinuetoagreetodiffer。"
　　"Well;perhapsIdopayyoutoohighacompliment。Afterall,youareapatrician。"
　　"Youspeakinriddles,Mr。Courtier。"
　　Thedark—eyedwomanstirred;herhandsgaveasortofflutter,asthoughindeprecationofacerbity。
　　Risingatonce,andspeakinginadeferentialvoice,theeldermansaid"We'retiringMrs。Noel。Good—night,Audrey,It'shightimeIwasoff。"AgainstthedarknessoftheopenFrenchwindow,heturnedroundtofireapartingshot。
　　"WhatImeant,LordMiltoun,wasthatyourclassisthedriestandmostpracticalintheState——it'soddifitdoesn'tsaveyoufromapoet'sdreams。Good—night！"Hepassedoutontothelawn,andvanished。
　　Theyoungmansatunmoving;theglowofthefirehadcaughthisface,sothataspiritseemedclingingroundhislips,gleamingoutofhiseyes。Suddenlyhesaid:
　　"Doyoubelievethat,Mrs。Noel？"
　　ForanswerAudreyNoelsmiled,thenroseandwentovertothewindow。
　　"Lookatmydeartoad！Itcomeshereeveryevening！"
　　Onaflagstoneoftheverandah,inthecentreofthestreamoflamplight,satalittlegoldentoad。AsMiltouncametolook,itwaddledtooneside,andvanished。
　　"Howpeacefulyourgardenis！"hesaid;thentakingherhand,heverygentlyraisedittohislips,andfollowedhisopponentoutintothedarkness。
　　Trulypeacebroodedoverthatgarden。TheNightseemedlistening——
　　alllightsout,allheartsatrest。Itwatched,withalittlewhitestarforeverytree,androof,andslumberingtiredflower,asamotherwatcheshersleepingchild,leaningabovehimandcountingwithherloveeveryhairofhishead,andallhistinytremors。
　　Argumentseemedchild'sbabbleindeedunderthesmileofNight。Andthefaceofthewoman,leftaloneatherwindow,wasalittlelikethefaceofthiswarm,sweetnight。Itwassensitive,harmonious;
　　anditsharmonywasnot,asinsomefaces,cold——butseemedtotrembleandglowandflutter,asthoughitwereaspiritwhichhadfounditsplaceofresting。
　　Inhergarden,——allvelvetygrey,withblackshadowsbeneaththeyew—
　　trees,thewhiteflowersaloneseemedtobeawake,andtolookatherwistfully。Thetreesstooddarkandstill。Noteventhenightbirdsstirred。Alone,thelittlestreamdowninthebottomraiseditsvoice,privilegedwhendayvoiceswerehushed。
　　ItwasnotinAudreyNoeltodenyherselftoanyspiritthatwasabroad;torepelwasanartshedidnotpractise。Butthisnight,thoughtheSpiritofPeacehoveredsonear,shedidnotseemtoknowit。Herhandstrembled,hercheekswereburning;herbreastheaved,andsighsflutteredfromherlips,justparted。
　　CHAPTERV
　　EustaceCardoc,ViscountMiltoun,hadlivedaverylonelylife,sincehefirstbegantounderstandthepeculiaritiesofexistence。WiththeexceptionofClifton,hisgrandmother's'majordomo,'hemade,asasmallchild,nointimatefriend。Hisnurses,governesses,tutors,bytheirownconfessiondidnotunderstandhim,findingthathetookhimselfwithunnecessaryseriousness;alittleafraid,too,ofonewhomtheydiscoveredtobecapableofpushingthingstothepointofenduringpaininsilence。MuchofthatearlytimewaspassedatRavensham,forhehadalwaysbeenLadyCasterley'sfavouritegrandchild。Sherecognizedinhimthepurposefulausteritywhichhadsomehowbeenomittedfromthecompositionofherdaughter。ButonlytoClifton,thenamanoffiftywithagreatgravityandlongblackwhiskers,didEustacerelievehissoul。"Itellyouthis,Clifton,"
　　hewouldsay,sittingonthesideboard,orthearmofthebigchairinClifton'sroom,orwanderingamongsttheraspberries,"becauseyouaremyfriend。"
　　AndClifton,withhisheadalittleononeside,andasortofwiseconcernathis'friend's'confidences,whichweresometimesofanembarrassingdescription,wouldanswernowandthen:"Ofcourse,mylord,"butmoreoften:"Ofcourse,mydear。"
　　Therewasinthisfriendshipsomethingfineandsuitable,neitherofthese'friends'takingorsufferingliberties,andbothbeinginterestedinpigeons,whichtheywouldstandwatchingwitharemarkableattention。
　　Incourseoftime,followingthetraditionofhisfamily,EustacewenttoHarrow。Hewastherefiveyears——alwaysoneofthoseboysalittleoutatwristsandankles,whomaybeseenslouching,solitary,alongthepavementtotheirownhaunts,ratherdusty,andwithoneshoulderslightlyraisedabovetheother,fromthehabitofcarryingsomethingbeneathonearm。Savedfrombeingthoughta'smug,'byhistitle,hislackofanyconspicuousscholasticability,hisobviousindependenceofwhatwasthoughtofhim,andasarcastictongue,whichnoonewaseagertoencounter,heremainedtheuglyducklingwhorefusedtopaddleproperlyinthegreenpondsofPublicSchooltradition。Heplayedgamessobadlythatinsheerself—defencehisfellowspermittedhimtoplaywithoutthem。Of'fives'theymadeanexception,forinthisheattainedmuchproficiency,owingtoacertainwindmill—likequalityoflimb。Hewasnotedtoofordaringchemicalexperiments,ofwhichheusuallyhadoneortwobrewing,surreptitiouslyatfirst,andafterwardsbyspecialpermissionofhishouse—master,ontheprinciplethatifaroommustsmell,ithadbettersmellopenly。Hemadefewfriendships,butthesewerelasting。
　　HisLatinwassopoor,andhisGreekversesovile,thatallhadbeensurprisedwhentowardsthefinishofhiscareerheshowedaveryconsiderablepowerofwritingandspeakinghisownlanguage。Heleftschoolwithoutapang。ButwheninthetrainhesawtheoldHillandtheoldspireonthetopofitfadingawayfromhim,alumproseinhisthroat,heswallowedviolentlytwoorthreetimes,and,thrustinghimselffarbackintothecarriagecorner,appearedtosleep。
　　AtOxford,hewashappier,butstillcomparativelylonely;remaining,solongascustompermitted,inlodgingsoutsidehisCollege,andclingingthereaftertoremote,panelledroomshighup,overlookingthegardensandaportionofthecitywall。ItwasatOxfordthathefirstdevelopedthatpassionforself—disciplinewhichafterwardsdistinguishedhim。Hetookuprowing;and,thoughthoroughlyunsuitedbynaturetothispastime,securedhimselfaplaceinhisCollege'torpid。'Attheendofaracehewasusuallysupportedfromhisstretcherinastateofextremeextenuation,duetohavingpulledthelastquarterofthecourseentirelywithhisspirit。Thesamecravingforself—disciplineguidedhiminthechoiceofSchools;hewentoutin'Greats,'forwhich,owingtohisindifferentmasteryofGreekandLatin,hewastheleastfitted。Withenormouslabourhetookaverygooddegree。Hecarriedoffbesides,thehighestdistinctionsoftheUniversityforEnglishEssays。TheordinarycirclesofCollegelifeknewnothingofhim。NotonceinthewholecourseofhisUniversitycareer,washethebetterforwine。He,didnothunt;henevertalkedofwomen,andnonetalkedofwomeninhispresence。Butnowandthenhewasvisitedbythosegustswhichcometotheascetic,whenalllifeseemedsuddenlycaughtupanddevouredbyaflameburningnightandday,andgoingoutmercifully,heknewnotwhy,likeablowncandle。Howeverunsocialinthepropersenseoftheword,hebynomeanslackedcompanyintheseOxforddays。Heknewmany,bothdonsandundergraduates。Hislongstride,anddeterminedabsenceofdirection,hadseverelytriedallthosewhocouldstomachsoslowapastimeaswalkingforthesakeoftalking。
　　Thecountryknewhim——thoughheneverknewthecountry——fromAbingdontoBablockHythe。Hisnamestoodhigh,too,attheUnion,wherehemadehismarkduringhisfirstterminadebateona'CensorshipofLiterature'whichheadvocatedwithgloom,pertinacity,andacertainyouthfulbrilliancethatmightwellhavecarriedtheday,hadnotanIrishmangotupandpointedoutthedangerhangingovertheOldTestament。Tothathehadretorted:"Better,sir,itshouldrunariskthanhavenorisktorun。"Fromwhichmomenthewasnotable。
　　Hestayedupfouryears,andwentdownwithasenseofbewildermentandloss。ThematuredverdictofOxfordonthischildofhers,was"EustaceMiltoun！Ah！Queerbird！Willmakehismark！"
　　Hehadaboutthistimeaninterviewwithhisfatherwhichconfirmedtheimpressioneachhadformedoftheother。IttookplaceinthelibraryatMonklandCourt,onalateNovemberafternoon。
　　Thelightofeightcandlesinthinsilvercandlesticks,fouroneithersideofthecarvedstonehearth,illuminedthatroom。Theirgentleradiancepenetratedbutalittlewayintothegreatdarkspacelinedwithbooks,panelledandflooredwithblackoak,wheretheacridfragranceofleatheranddriedroseleavesseemedtodrenchthe,verysoulwiththearomaofthepast。Abovethehugefireplace,withlightfallingononesideofhisshavenface,hungaportrait——
　　painterunknown——ofthatCardinalCaradocwhosufferedforhisfaithinthesixteenthcentury。Ascetic,crucified,withalittlesmileclingingtothelipsanddeep—seteyes,hepresided,abovethebluefishflamesofalogfire。
　　Fatherandsonfoundsomedifficultyinbeginning。
　　Eachofthosetwofeltasthoughhewereinthepresenceofsomeoneelse'sverynearrelation。Theyhad,infact,seenextremelylittleofeachother,andnotseenthatlittlelong。
　　LordValleysutteredthefirstremark:
　　"Well,mydearfellow,whatareyougoingtodonow？Ithinkwecanmakecertainofthisseatdownhere,ifyouliketostand。"
　　Miltounhadanswered:"Thanks,verymuch;Idon'tthinksoatpresent。"
　　ThroughthethinfumeofhiscigarLordValleyswatchedthatlongfiguresunkdeepinthechairopposite。
　　"Whynot？"hesaid。"Youcan'tbegintoosoon;unlessyouthinkyououghttogoroundtheworld。"
　　"BeforeIcanbecomeamanofit？"
　　LordValleysgavearatherdisconcertedlaugh。
　　"There'snothinginpoliticsyoucan'tpickupasyougoalong,"hesaid。"Howoldareyou？"
　　"Twenty—four。"
　　"Youlookolder。"Afaintline,asofcontemplation,rosebetweenhiseyes。WasitfancythatalittlesmilewashoveringaboutMiltoun'slips？
　　"I'vegotafoolishtheory,"camefromthoselips,"thatonemustknowtheconditionsfirst。Iwanttogiveatleastfiveyearstothat。"
　　LordValleysraisedhiseyebrows。"Wasteoftime,"hesaid。"You'dknowmoreattheendofit,ifyouwentintotheHouseatonce。Youtakethemattertooseriously。"
　　"Nodoubt。"
　　ForfullyaminuteLordValleysmadenoanswer;hefeltalmostruffled。Waitingtillthesensationhadpassed,hesaid:"Well,mydearfellow,asyouplease。"
　　Miltoun'sapprenticeshiptotheprofessionofpoliticswasservedinaslumsettlement;onhisfather'sestates;inChambersattheTemple;inexpeditionstoGermany,America,andtheBritishColonies;
　　inworkatelections;andintwoforlornhopestocaptureaconstituencywhichcouldbetrustednottochangeitsprinciples。Hereadmuch,slowly,butwithconscientioustenacity,poetry,history,andworksonphilosophy,religion,andsocialmatters。
　　Fiction,andespeciallyforeignfiction,hedidnotcarefor。Withtheutmostdesiretobewideandimpartial,hesuckedinwhatministeredtothewantsofhisnature,rejectingunconsciouslyallthatbyitsunsuitabilityendangeredtheflameofhisprivatespirit。
　　Whatheread,infact,servedonlytostrengthenthoseprofounderconvictionswhicharosefromhistemperament。Withacontemptofthevulgargewgawsofwealthandrankhecombinedahumblebutintenseandgrowingconvictionofhiscapacityforleadership,ofaspiritualsuperioritytothosewhomhedesiredtobenefit。Therewasnotrace,indeed,ofthecommonPhariseeinMiltoun,hewassimpleanddirect;
　　buthiseyes,hisgestures,thewholeman,proclaimedthepresenceofsomesecretspringofcertainty,somefundamentalwellintowhichnodisturbingglimmerspenetrated。Hewasnotdevoidofwit,buthewasdevoidofthatkindofwitwhichturnsitseyesinward,andseessomethingofthefunthatliesinbeingwhatyouare。Miltounsawtheworldandallthethingsthereofshapedlikespires——evenwhentheywerecircles。HeseemedtohavenosensethattheUniversewasequallycompoundedofthosetwosymbols,whosepointofreconciliationhadnotyetbeendiscovered。
　　Suchwashe,then,whentheMemberforhisnativedivisionwasmadeapeer。
　　Hehadreachedtheageofthirtywithouteverhavingbeeninlove,leadingalifeofalmostsavagepurity,withonesolitarybreakdown。
　　Womenwereafraidofhim。Andhewasperhapsalittleafraidofwoman。Shewasintheorytoolovelyanddesirable——thehalf—moon。
　　inasummersky;inpracticetoocloying,ortooharsh。HehadanaffectionforBarbara,hisyoungersister;buttohismother,hisgrandmother,orhiseldersisterAgatha,hehadneverfeltclose。ItwasindeedamusingtoseeLadyValleyswithherfirst—born。Herfinefigure,theblownrosesofherface,hergrey—blueeyeswhichhadaslighttendencytoroll,asthoughamusementjusttouchedwithnaughtinessbubbledbehindthem;werereducedtoaqueer,satiricaldecoruminMiltoun'spresence。Thoughtsandsayingsvergingontheriskywerecharacteristicofherrobustphysique,ofhersoulwhichcouldaffordtoexpressalmostailthatoccurredtoit。Miltounhadnever,notevenasachild,givenherhisconfidence。Sheborehimnoresentment,beingofthatlarge,generousbuildinbodyandmind,rarely——neverinherclass——associatedwiththecapacityforfeelingaggrievedorloweredinanyestimation,evenitsown。Hewas,andalwayshadbeen,anoddboy,andtherewasanendofit！NothinghadperhapssodisconcertedLadyValleysashiswantofbehaviourinregardtowomen。Shefeltitabnormal,justassherecognizedtheessentialifdulyveilednormalityofherhusbandandyoungerson。
　　Itwasthisfeelingwhichmadeherrealizealmostmorevividlythanshehadtimefor,inthewhirlofpoliticsandfashion,thedangerofhisfriendshipwiththisladytowhomshealludedsodiscreetlyas'Anonyma。'
　　Purechancehadbeenresponsiblefortheinceptionofthatfriendship。GoingoneDecemberafternoontothefarmhouseofatenant,justkilledbyafallfromhishorse,Miltounhadfoundthewidowinastateofbewilderedgrief,thinlycloakedinthemannerofonewhohadalmostlostthepowertoexpressherfeelings,andquitelostitinpresenceof'thegentry。'Havingassuredthepoorsoulthatsheneedhavenofearabouthertenancy,hewasjustleaving,whenhemet,inthestone—flaggedentrance,aladyinafurcapandjacket,carryinginherarmsalittlecryingboy,bleedingfromacutontheforehead。Takinghimfromherandplacinghimonatableintheparlour,Miltounlookedatthislady,andsawthatshewasextremelygrave,andsoft,andcharming。Heinquiredofherwhetherthemothershouldbetold。
　　Sheshookherhead。
　　"Poorthing,notjustnow:let'swashit,andbinditupfirst。"
　　Togetherthereforetheywashedandboundupthecut。Havingfinished,shelookedatMiltoun,andseemedtosay:"YouwoulddothetellingsomuchbetterthanI"
　　He,therefore,toldthemotherandwasrewardedbyalittlesmilefromthegravelady。
　　>Fromthatmeetinghetookawaytheknowledgeofhername,AudreyLeesNoel,andtheremembranceofaface,whosebeauty,underacapofsquirrel'sfur,pursuedhim。Somedayslaterpassingbythevillagegreen,hesawherenteringagardengate。Onthisoccasionhehadaskedherwhethershewouldlikehercottagere—thatched;aninspectionoftheroofhadfollowed;hehadstayedtalkingalongtime。Accustomedtowomen——overthebestofwhom,foralltheirgraceandlackofaffectation,high—castelifehadwrappedthemannerwhichseemstotakeallthingsforgranted——therewasapeculiarcharmforMiltouninthissoft,dark—eyedladywhoevidentlylivedquiteoutoftheworld,andhadsopoignant,andshy,aflavour。
　　Thusfromachanceseedhadblossomedswiftlyoneofthoserarefriendshipsbetweenlonelypeople,whichcaninshorttimefillgreatspacesoftwolives。
　　Onedaysheaskedhim:"Youknowaboutme,Isuppose？"Miltounmadeamotionofhishead,signifyingthathedid。Hisinformanthadbeenthevicar。
　　"Yes,Iamtold,herstoryisasadone——adivorce。"
　　"Doyoumeanthatshehasbeendivorced,or————"
　　Forthefractionofasecondthevicarperhapshadhesitated。
　　"Oh！no——no。Sinnedagainst,Iamsure。Anicewoman,sofarasI
　　haveseen;thoughI'mafraidnotoneofmycongregation。"
　　Withthis,Miltoun,inwhomchivalryhadalreadybeenawakened,wascontent。Whensheaskedifheknewherstory,hewouldnotfortheworldhavehadherrakeupwhatwaspainful。Whateverthatstory,shecouldnothavebeentoblame。Shehadbegunalreadytobeshapedbyhisownspirit;hadbecomenotahumanbeingasitwas,butanexpressionofhisaspiration……
　　OnthethirdeveningafterhispassageofarmswithCourtier,hewasagainatherlittlewhitecottageshelteringwithinitshighgardenwalls。Smotheredinroses,andwithablack—brownthatchoverhangingtheold—fashionedleadedpanesoftheupperwindows,ithadanairofhidingfromtheworld。Behind,asthoughonguard,twopinetreesspreadtheirdarkboughsovertheouthouses,andinanysouth—westwindcouldbeheardspeakinggravelyabouttheweather。Talllilacbushesflankedthegarden,andahugelime—treeintheadjoiningfieldsighedandrustled,oronstilldaysletforththedrowsyhumofcountlesssmallduskybeeswhofrequentedthatgreenhostelry。
　　Hefoundheralteringadress,sittingoveritinherpeculiardelicatefashion——asifallobjectswhatsoever,dresses,flowers,books,music,requiredfromherthesamesympathy。