Shelookedlongatherfaceinthemirror，studyingwithafearfulinterestthelittlehardlinesandmarkingstherebeneaththeirlightcoatingofpowder。Sheexaminedthecunningtouchesofcolouringmatterhereandthereinherfronthair。Weretheycunningenough？
　　Didtheydeceive？Theyseemedtohersuddenlytostareout。Shefingeredandsmoothedtheslightloosenessandfulnessoftheskinbelowherchin。Shestretchedherself，andpassedherhandsdownoverherwholeform，searchingasitwereforslackness，orthickness。Andshehadthebitterthought:’I’mallout。I’mdoingallIcan。’ThelinesofalittlepoemForthadshowedherwentthrummingthroughherhead:
　　"Time，youoldgipsymanWillyounotstayPutupyourcaravanJustforaday？"
　　Whatmorecouldshedo？Hedidnotliketoseeherlipsreddened。
　　Shehadmarkedhisdisapprovals，watchedhimwipehismouthafterakiss，whenhethoughtshecouldn’tseehim。’Ineed’nt！’shethought。’Noel’slipsarenoredder，really。WhathasshebetterthanI？Youth——dewonthegrass！’Thatdidn’tlastlong！Butlongenoughto"doherin"ashersoldier—menwouldsay。And，suddenlysherevoltedagainstherself，againstFort，againstthischilledandfoggycountry;feltafiercenostalgiaforAfricansun，andtheAfricanflowers;thehappy—go—lucky，hand—to—mouthexistenceofthosefiveyearsbeforethewarbegan。HighConstantiaatgrapeharvest！
　　Howmanyyearsago——tenyears，elevenyears！Ah！Tohavebeforeherthosetenyears，withhim！Tenyearsinthesun！Hewouldhavelovedherthen，andgoneonlovingher！Andshewouldnothavetiredofhim，asshehadtiredofthoseothers。’Inhalfanhour，’shethought，’he’llbehere，sitoppositeme;Ishallseehimstrugglingforcinghimselftoseemaffectionate！It’stoohumbling！ButI
　　don’tcare;Iwanthim！’
　　Shesearchedherwardrobe，forsomegarmentortouchofcolour，noveltyofanysort，tohelpher。Butshehadtriedthemall——thoselittletricks——wasbankrupt。Andsuchadiscouraged，heavymoodcameonher，thatshedidnoteven"change，"butwentbackinhernurse’sdressandlaydownonthedivan，pretendingtosleep，whilethemaidsetoutthesupper。Shelaytheremoodyandmotionless，tryingtosummoncourage，feelingthatifsheshowedherselfbeatenshewasbeaten;knowingthatsheonlyheldhimbypity。Butwhensheheardhisfootsteponthestairssheswiftlypassedherhandsoverhercheeks，asiftopressthebloodoutofthem，andlayabsolutelystill。Shehopedthatshewaswhite，andindeedshewas，withfinger—marksundertheeyes，forshehadsufferedgreatlythislasthour。Throughherlashesshesawhimhalt，andlookatherinsurprise。Asleep，or—ill，which？Shedidnotmove。Shewantedtowatchhim。Hetiptoedacrosstheroomandstoodlookingdownather。
　　Therewasafurrowbetweenhiseyes。’Ah！’shethought，’itwouldsuityou，ifIweredead，mykindfriend。’Hebentalittletowardsher;andshewonderedsuddenlywhethershelookedgracefullyingthere，sorrynowthatshehadnotchangedherdress。Shesawhimshrughisshoulderseversofaintlywithapuzzledlittlemovement。
　　Hehadnotseenthatshewasshamming。Hownicehisfacewas——notmean，secret，callous！Sheopenedhereyes，whichagainstherwillhadinthemthedespairshewasfeeling。Hewentonhisknees，andliftingherhandtohislips，hidthemwithit。
　　"Jimmy，"shesaidgently，"I’manawfulboretoyou。PoorJimmy！
　　No！Don’tpretend！IknowwhatIknow！"’Oh，God！WhatamI
　　saying？’shethought。’It’sfatal—fatal。Ioughtnever！’Anddrawinghisheadtoher，sheputittoherheart。Then，instinctivelyawarethatthismomenthadbeenpressedtoitsuttermost，shescrambledup，kissedhisforehead，stretchedherself，andlaughed。
　　"Iwasasleep，dreaming;dreamingyoulovedme。Wasn’titfunny？
　　Comealong。Thereareoysters，forthelasttimethisseason。"
　　Allthatevening，asifbothknewtheyhadbeenlookingoveraprecipice，theyseemedtobetreadingwarily，desperatelyanxiousnottorouseemotionineachother，ortouchonthingswhichmustbringascene。AndLeilatalkedincessantlyofAfrica。
　　"Don’tyoulongforthesun，Jimmy？Couldn’twe——couldn’tyougo？
　　Oh！whydoesn’tthiswretchedwarend？Allthatwe’vegothereathomeeveryscrapofwealth，andcomfort，andage，andart，andmusic，I’dgiveitallforthelightandthesunoutthere。Wouldn’tyou？"
　　AndFortsaidhewould，knowingwellofonethingwhichhewouldnotgive。Andsheknewthat，aswellashe。
　　Theywerebothgayerthantheyhadbeenforalongtime;sothatwhenhehadgone，shefellbackoncemoreontothedivan，andburyingherfaceinacushion，weptbitterly。
　　V
　　1
　　ItwasnotquitedisillusionmentthatPiersonfeltwhilehewalkedaway。PerhapshehadnotreallybelievedinLeila’sregeneration。
　　Itwasmoreanacutediscomfort，anincreasingloneliness。Asoftandrestfulspotwasnowdeniedhim;acertainwarmthandallurementhadgoneoutofhislife。HehadnoteventhefeelingthatitwashisdutytotryandsaveLeilabypersuadinghertomarryFort。Hehadalwaysbeentoosensitive，toomuchasitwereofagentleman，fortherobustersortsofevangelism。Suchdelicacyhadbeenastumbling—blocktohimallthroughprofessionallife。Intheeightyearswhenhiswifewaswithhim，allhadbeenmorecertain，moredirectandsimple，withthehelpofhersympathy，judgment;andcompanionship。Atherdeathasortofmisthadgatheredinhissoul。
　　Noonehadeverspokenplainlytohim。Toaclergyman，whodoes？Noonehadtoldhiminsomanywordsthatheshouldhavemarriedagain——
　　thattostayunmarriedwasbadforhim，physicallyandspiritually，foggingandpervertinglife;notdrivinghim，indeed，asitdrovemany，tointoleranceandcruelty，buttothathalf—livingdreaminess，andthevagueunhappyyearningswhichsoconstantlybesethim。Allthesecelibateyearshehadreallyonlybeenhappyinhismusic，orinfar—awaycountryplaces，takingstrongexercise，andlosinghimselfinthebeautiesofNature;andsincethewarbeganhehadonlyonce，forthosethreedaysatKestrel，beenoutofLondon。
　　Hewalkedhome，goingoverinhismindveryanxiouslyalltheevidencehehadofFort’sfeelingforNoel。Howmanytimeshadhebeentothemsinceshecameback？Onlythreetimes——threeeveningvisits！Andhehadnotbeenalonewithherasingleminute！Beforethiscalamitybefellhisdaughter，hewouldneverhaveobservedanythinginFort’sdemeanour;but，inhisnewwatchfulness，hehadseenthealmostreverentialwayhelookedather，noticedtheextrasoftnessofhisvoicewhenhespoketoher，andoncealookofsuddenpain，asortofdullingofhiswholeself，whenNoelhadgotupandgoneoutoftheroom。Andthegirlherself？TwicehehadsurprisedhergazingatFortwhenhewasnotlooking，withasortofbroodinginterest。Herememberedhow，asalittlegirl，shewouldwatchagrown—up，andthensuddenlyonedayattachherselftohim，andbequitedevoted。Yes，hemustwarnher，beforeshecouldpossiblybecomeentangled。Inhisfastidiouschastity，theopinionhehadheldofFortwassuddenlylowered。He，alreadyafree—thinker，wasnowrevealedasafree—liver。PoorlittleNollie！Endangeredagainalready！Everymanakindofwolfwaitingtopounceonher！
　　HefoundLavendieandNoelinthedrawing—room，standingbeforetheportraitwhichwasnearingcompletion。Helookedatitforalongminute，andturnedaway:
　　"Don’tyouthinkit’slikeme，Daddy？"
　　"It’slikeyou;butithurtsme。Ican’ttellwhy。"
　　HesawthesmileofapainterwhosepictureisbeingcriticisedcomeonLavendie’sface。
　　"Itisperhapsthecolouringwhichdoesnotpleaseyou，monsieur？"
　　"No，no;deeper。Theexpression;whatisshewaitingfor？"
　　ThedefensivesmilediedonLavendie’slips。
　　"ItisasIseeher，monsieurlecure。"
　　Piersonturnedagaintothepicture，andsuddenlycoveredhiseyes。
　　"Shelooks’fey，"’hesaid，andwentoutoftheroom。
　　LavendieandNoelremainedstaringatthepicture。"Fey？Whatdoesthatmean，mademoiselle？"
　　"Possessed，orsomething。"
　　Andtheycontinuedtostareatthepicture，tillLavendiesaid:
　　"Ithinkthereisstillalittletoomuchlightonthatear。"
　　Thesameevening，atbedtime，PiersoncalledNoelback。
　　"Nollie，Iwantyoutoknowsomething。Inallbutthename，CaptainFortisamarriedman。"
　　Hesawherflush，andfelthisownfacedarkeningwithcolour。
　　Shesaidcalmly:"Iknow;toLeila。"
　　"Doyoumeanshehastoldyou？"
　　Noelshookherhead。
　　"Thenhow？"
　　"Iguessed。Daddy，don’ttreatmeasachildanymore。What’stheuse，now？"
　　Hesatdowninthechairbeforethehearth，andcoveredhisfacewithhishands。Bythequiveringofthosehands，andthemovementofhisshoulders，shecouldtellthathewasstiflingemotion，perhapsevencrying;andsinkingdownonhiskneesshepressedhishandsandfacetoher，murmuring:"Oh，Daddydear！Oh，Daddydear！"
　　Heputhisarmsroundher，andtheysatalongtimewiththeircheekspressedtogether，notspeakingaword。
　　VI
　　1
　　Thedayafterthatsilentoutburstofemotioninthedrawing—roomwasaSunday。And，obeyingthelongingawakenedovernighttobeasgoodasshecouldtoherfather;Noelsaidtohim:
　　"WouldyoulikemetocometoChurch？"
　　"Ofcourse，Nollie。"
　　Howcouldhehaveansweredotherwise？TohimChurchwasthehomeofcomfortandabsolution，wherepeoplemustbringtheirsinsandtroubles——ahavenofsinners，thefountofcharity，offorgiveness，andlove。Nottohavebelievedthat，afteralltheseyears，wouldhavebeentodenyallhisusefulnessinlife，andtocastaslurontheHouseofGod。
　　AndsoNoelwalkedtherewithhim，forGratianhadgonedowntoGeorge，fortheweek—end。Sheslippedquietlyupthesideaisletotheiremptypew，underthepulpit。Neverturninghereyesfromthechancel，sheremainedunconsciousofthestirherpresencemade，duringthathourandtwentyminutes。Behindher，thedumbcurrentsofwonder，disapproval，andresentmentranastealthycourse。Onheralleyeswerefixedsoonerorlater，andeverymindbecametheplaygroundofjudgments。Fromeverysoul，kneeling，standing，orsitting，whilethevoiceoftheServicedroned，sang，orspoke，akindofglareradiatedontothatonesmalldevotedhead，whichseemedsoludicrouslydevout。Shedisturbedtheirdevotions，thisgirlwhohadbetrayedherfather，herfaith，herclass。Sheoughttorepent，ofcourse，andChurchwastherightplace;yettherewassomethingbrazeninherrepentingtherebeforetheirveryeyes;shewastoopalpableaflawinthecrystaloftheChurch’sauthority，toovisiblearentintheraimentoftheirpriest。Herfigurefocusedalltheuneasyamazementandheartsearchingsoftheselastweeks。
　　Mothersquiveredwiththeknowledgethattheirdaughterscouldseeher;wiveswiththeideathattheirhusbandswereseeingher。Menexperiencedsensationsvaryingfromcondemnationtoasortofcovetousness。Youngfolkwondered，andfeltinclinedtogiggle。Oldmaidscouldhardlybeartolook。Hereandthereamanorwomanwhohadseenlifefacetoface，wassimplysorry！Theconsciousnessofallwhoknewherpersonallywasatstretchhowtobehaveiftheycamewithinreachofheringoingout。For，thoughonlyhalfadozenwouldactuallyrubshoulderswithher，allknewthattheymightbe，andmanyfeltittheirdutytobe，ofthathalf—dozen，soastoestablishtheirattitudeonceforall。Itwas，infact，toosevereatestforhumannatureandthefeelingswhichChurchoughttoarouse。
　　Thestillnessofthatyoungfigure，theimpossibilityofseeingherfaceandjudgingofherstateofmindthereby;finally，afaintlurkingshamethattheyshouldbesointriguedanddisturbedbysomethingwhichhadtodowithsex，inthisHouseofWorship——allcombinedtoproduceineverymindthatherd—feelingofdefence，whichsosoonbecomes，offensive。And，halfunconscious，halfawareofitall，Noelstood，andsat，andknelt。Onceortwiceshesawherfather’seyesfixedonher;and，stillintheglowoflastnight’spityandremorse，feltakindofworshipforhisthingraveface。
　　Butforthemostpart，herownworetheexpressionLavendiehadtranslatedtohiscanvas——thelookofoneeverwaitingfortheextrememomentsoflife，forthosefewandfleetingpoignancieswhichexistenceholdsforthehumanheart。Alookneitherhungrynordissatisfied，butdreamyandexpectant，whichmightblazeintowarmthanddepthatanymoment，andthengobacktoitsdream。
　　Whenthelastnotesoftheorgandiedawayshecontinuedtositverystill，withoutlookinground。
　　TherewasnosecondService，andthecongregationmeltedoutbehindher，andhaddispersedintothestreetsandsquareslongbeforeshecameforth。Afterhesitatingwhetherornotogotothevestrydoor，sheturnedawayandwalkedhomealone。
　　Itwasthisdeliberateevasionofallcontactwhichprobablyclinchedthebusiness。Theabsenceofvent，ofanyescape—pipeforthefeelings，isalwaysdangerous。Theyfeltcheated。IfNoelhadcomeoutamongstallthosewhosedevotionsherpresencehaddisturbed，ifinthatexit，somehadshownandothershadwitnessedoneknowsnotwhatofamanifestedostracism，theoutragedsenseofsocialdecencymighthavebeenappeasedandsleepingdogsallowedtolie，forwesoongetusedtothings;and，afterall，thewartookprecedenceineverymindevenoversocialdecency。Butnoneofthishadoccurred，andasensethatSundayafterSundaythesamelittleoutragewouldhappentothem，movedmorethanadozenquiteunrelatedpersons，andcausedthepostingthateveningofasmanyletters，signedandunsigned，toacertainquarter。Londonisnoplaceforparishconspiracy，andasituationwhichinthecountrywouldhaveprovokedmeetingsmoreorlesspublic，andpossiblyaresolution，couldperhapsonlythusbedealtwith。Besides，incertainfolkthereiseveramysteriousitchtowriteanunsignedletter——suchmissivessatisfysomeobscuresenseofjustice，someuncontrollablelongingtogetevenwiththosewhohavehurtordisturbedthem，withoutaffordingtheoffenderschanceforfurtherhurtordisturbance。
　　Letterswhicharepostedoftenreachtheirdestination。
　　OnWednesdaymorningPiersonwassittinginhisstudyatthehourdevotedtothecallsofhisparishioners，whenthemaidannounced，"CanonRushbourne，sir，"andhesawbeforehimanoldCollegefriendwhomhehadmetbutseldominrecentyears。Hisvisitorwasashort，grey—hairedmanofratherportlyfigure，whoseround，rosy，good—
　　humouredfacehadalookofsobergoodness，andwhoselight—blueeyesshonealittle。HegraspedPierson’shand，andsaidinavoicetowhosenaturalheavyresonanceprofessionaldutyhadaddedacertainunction:
　　"MydearEdward，howmanyyearsitissincewemet！DoyourememberdearoldBlakeway？Isawhimonlyyesterday。He’sjustthesame。
　　I’mdelightedtoseeyouagain，"andhelaughedalittlesoftnervouslaugh。ThenforafewmomentshetalkedofthewarandoldCollegedays，andPiersonlookedathimandthought:’Whathashecomefor？’
　　"You’vesomethingtosaytome，Alec，"hesaid，atlast。
　　CanonRushbourneleanedforwardinhischair，andansweredwithevidenteffort:"Yes;Iwantedtohavealittletalkwithyou，Edward。Ihopeyouwon’tmind。Idohopeyouwon’t。"
　　"WhyshouldImind？"
　　CanonRushbourne’seyesshonemorethanever，therewasrealfriendlinessinhisface。
　　"Iknowyou’veeveryrighttosaytome:’Mindyourownbusiness。’
　　ButImadeupmymindtocomeasafriend，hopingtosaveyoufrom——er"hestammered，andbeganagain:"Ithinkyououghttoknowofthefeelinginyourparishthat——er——that——er——yourpositionisverydelicate。WithoutbreachofconfidenceImaytellyouthatlettershavebeensenttoheadquarters;youcanimagineperhapswhatImean。
　　Dobelieve，mydearfriend，thatI’mactuatedbymyoldaffectionforyou;nothingelse，Idoassureyou。"
　　Inthesilence，hisbreathingcouldbeheard，asofamanalittletouchedwithasthma，whilehecontinuallysmoothedhisthickblackknees，hiswholefaceradiatingananxiouskindliness。Thesunshonebrightlyonthosetwoblackfigures，soverydifferent，anddrewoutoftheirwell—worngarmentsthefaintlatentgreenmossinesswhich。
　　underliestheclothesofclergymen。
　　AtlastPiersonsaid:"Thankyou，Alec;Iunderstand。"
　　TheCanonutteredaresoundingsigh。"Youdidn’trealisehowveryeasilypeoplemisinterpretherbeingherewithyou;itseemstothemakind——akindofchallenge。Theywerebound，Ithink，tofeelthat;
　　andI’mafraid，inconsequence——"Hestopped，movedbythefactthatPiersonhadclosedhiseyes。
　　"Iamtochoose，youmean，betweenmydaughterandmyparish？"
　　TheCanonseemed，withastammerofwords，totryandblunttheedgeofthatclearquestion。
　　"Myvisitisquiteinformal，mydearfellow;Ican’tsayatall。Butthereisevidentlymuchfeeling;thatiswhatIwantedyoutoknow。
　　Youhaven’tquiteseen，Ithink，that——"
　　Piersonraisedhishand。"Ican’ttalkofthis。"
　　TheCanonrose。"Believeme，Edward，Isympathisedeeply。IfeltI
　　hadtowarnyou。"Heheldouthishand。"Good—bye，mydearfriend，doforgiveme";andhewentout。Inthehallanadventurebefellhimsoplump，andawkward，thathecouldbarelyreciteittoMrs。
　　Rushbournethatnight。
　　"Comingoutfrommypoorfriend，"hesaid，"Iranintoababy’sperambulatorandthatyoungmother，whomIrememberasalittlething"——heheldhishandatthelevelofhisthigh——"arrangingitforgoingout。Itstartledme;andIfearIaskedquitefoolishly:’Isitaboy？’Thepooryoungthinglookedupatme。Shehasverylargeeyes，quitebeautiful，strangeeyes。’HaveyoubeenspeakingtoDaddyaboutme？’’Mydearyounglady，’Isaid，’I’msuchanoldfriend，yousee。Youmustforgiveme。’Andthenshesaid:’Aretheygoingtoaskhimtoresign？’’Thatdependsonyou，’Isaid。WhydoIsaythesethings，Charlotte？Ioughtsimplytohaveheldmytongue。Pooryoungthing;soveryyoung！Andthelittlebaby！"
　　"Shehasbroughtitonherself，Alec，"Mrs，Rushbournereplied。
　　VII
　　1
　　Themomenthisvisitorhadvanished，Piersonpacedupanddownthestudy，withangerrisinginhis，heart。Hisdaughterorhisparish！
　　Theoldsaw，"AnEnglishman’shouseishiscastle！"wasbeingattackedwithinhim。Musthenotthenharbourhisowndaughter，andhelpherbycandidatonementtoregainherinwardstrengthandpeace？
　　WashenottherebyactingasatrueChristian，inbyfarthehardestcourseheandshecouldpursue？Togobackonthatdecisionandimperilhisdaughter’sspirit，orelseresignhisparish——thealternativeswerebrutal！Thiswasthecentreofhisworld，theonlyspotwheresolonelyamancouldhopetofeeleventhesemblanceofhome;athousandlittlethreadstetheredhimtohischurch，hisparishioners，andthishouse——for，toliveonhereifhegaveuphischurchwasoutofthequestion。Buthischieffeelingwasabewilderedangerthatfordoingwhatseemedtohimhisduty，heshouldbeattackedbyhisparishioners。
　　Apassionofdesiretoknowwhattheyreallythoughtandfelt——theseparishionersofhis，whomhehadbefriended，andforwhomhehadworkedsolong——besethimnow，andhewentout。ButtheabsurdityofhisqueststruckhimbeforehehadgonethelengthoftheSquare。
　　Onecouldnotgotopeopleandsay:"Standanddelivermeyourinmostjudgments。"Andsuddenlyhewasawareofhowfarawayhereallywasfromthem。Throughallhisministrationshadheevercometoknowtheirhearts？Andnow，inthisdirenecessityforknowledge，thereseemednowayofgettingit。Hewentatrandomintoastationer’sshop;theshopmansangbassinhischoir。TheyhadmetSundayafterSundayforthelastsevenyears。Butwhen，withthisitchforintimateknowledgeonhim，hesawthemanbehindthecounter，itwasasifhewerelookingonhimforthefirsttime。TheRussianproverb，"Theheartofanotherisadarkforest，"gashedintohismind，whilehesaid:
　　"Well，Hodson，whatnewsofyourson？"
　　"Nothingmore，Mr。Pierson，thankyou，sir，nothingmoreatpresent。"
　　AnditseemedtoPierson，gazingattheman’sfaceclothedinashort，grizzlingbeardcutratherlikehisown，thathemustbethinking:’Ah！sir，butwhatnewsofyourdaughter？’Noonewouldevertellhimtohisfacewhathewasthinking。Andbuyingtwopencils，hewentout。Ontheothersideoftheroadwasabird—
　　fancier’sshop，keptbyawomanwhosehusbandhadbeentakenfortheArmy。Shewasnotfriendlytowardshim，foritwasknowntoherthathehadexpostulatedwithherhusbandforkeepinglarks，andotherwildbirds。Andquitedeliberatelyhecrossedtheroad，andstoodlookinginatthewindow，withthemorbidhopethatfromthisunfriendlyonehemightheartruth。Shewasinhershop，andcametothedoor。
　　"Haveyouanynewsofyourhusband，Mrs。Cherry？"
　　"No，Mr。Pierson，I’avenot;notthisweek。"
　　"Hehasn’tgoneoutyet？"
　　"No，Mr。Pierson;’e’asnot。"
　　Therewasnoexpressiononherface，perfectlyblankitwas——Piersonhadamadlongingtosay’ForGod’ssake，woman，speakoutwhat’sinyourmind;tellmewhatyouthinkofmeandmydaughter。Nevermindmycloth！’Buthecouldnomoresayitthanthewomancouldtellhimwhatwasinhermind。Andwitha"Goodmorning"hepassedon。Nomanorwomanwouldtellhimanything，unless，perhaps，theyweredrunk。Hecametoapublichouse，andforamomentevenhesitatedbeforeit，butthethoughtofinsultaimedatNoelstoppedhim，andhepassedthattoo。Andthenrealitymadeitselfknowntohim。
　　Thoughhehadcomeouttohearwhattheywerethinking，hedidnotreallywanttohearit，couldnotendureitifhedid。Hehadbeentoolongimmunefromcriticism，toolonginthepositionofonewhomaytellotherswhathethinksofthem。Andstandingthereinthecrowdedstreet，hewasattackedbythatlongingforthecountrywhichhadalwayscomeonhimwhenhewashardpressed。Helookedathismemoranda。Bystupendousluckitwasalmostablankday。Anomnibuspassedclosebywhichwouldtakehimfarout。Heclimbedontoit，andtravelledasfarasHendon;thengettingdown，setforthonfoot。
　　Itwasbrightandhot，andtheMayblossominfullfoam。HewalkedfastalongtheperfectlystraightroadtillhecametothetopofElstreeHill。Thereforafewmomentshestoodgazingattheschoolchapel，thecricket—field，thewidelandbeyond。Allwasveryquiet，foritwaslunch—time。Ahorsewastetheredthere，andastrollingcat，asthoughstruckbythetallblackincongruityofhisfigure，pausedinherprogress，then，slitheringunderthewicketgate，archedherbackandrubbedherselfagainsthisleg，crinklingandwavingthetipofhertail。Piersonbentdownandstrokedthecreature’shead;bututteringafaintmiaou，thecatsteppeddaintilyacrosstheroad，Piersontoosteppedon，pastthevillage，anddownoverthestile，intoafieldpath。Attheedgeoftheyoungclover，underabankofhawthorn，helaydownonhisback，withhishatbesidehimandhisarmscrossedoverhischest，liketheeffigyofsomecrusaderonemayseecarvedonanoldtomb。Thoughhelayquietasthatoldknight，hiseyeswerenotclosed，butfixedontheblue，wherealarkwassinging。Itssongrefreshedhisspirit;itspassionatelight—heartednessstirredalltheloveofbeautyinhim，awokerevoltagainstaworldsomurderousanduncharitable。Oh！topassupwiththatsongintoalandofbrightspirits，wherewasnothingugly，hard，merciless，andthegentlefaceoftheSaviourradiatedeverlastinglove！Thescentofthemayflowers，bornedownbythesunshine，drenchedhissenses;heclosedhiseyes，and，atonce，asifresentingthatmomentaryescape，hismindresumeddebatewithstartlingintensity。Thismatterwenttotheverywell—springs，hadaterribleandsecretsignificance。Iftoactasconsciencebadehimrenderedhimunfittokeephisparish，allwasbuiltonsand，hadnodeepreality，wasbutrootedinconvention。Charity，andtheforgivenessofsinshonestlyatonedfor——whatbecameofthem？
　　Eitherhewaswrongtohaveespousedstraightforwardconfessionandatonementforher，ortheywerewronginchasinghimfromthatespousal。Therecouldbenomakingthoseextremestomeet。Butifhewerewrong，havingdonethehardestthingalready——wherecouldheturn？HisChurchstoodbankruptofideals。Hefeltasifpushedovertheedgeoftheworld，withfeetonspace，andheadinsomeblindingcloud。’Icannothavebeenwrong，’hethought;’anyothercoursewassomucheasier。Isacrificedmypride，andmypoorgirl’spride;Iwouldhavelovedtoletherrunaway。Ifforthiswearetobestonedandcastforth，whatlivingforceisthereinthereligionIhaveloved;whatdoesitallcometo？HaveIservedasham？I
　　cannotandwillnotbelieveit。Somethingiswrongwithme，somethingiswrong——butwhere——what？’Herolledover，layonhisface，andprayed。Heprayedforguidanceanddeliverancefromthegustsofangerwhichkeptsweepingoverhim;evenmoreforrelieffromthefeelingofpersonaloutrage，andtheunfairnessofthisthing。Hehadstriventobeloyaltowhathethoughttheright，hadsacrificedallhissensitiveness，allhissecretfastidiousprideinhischildandhimself。Forthathewastobethrownout！Whetherthroughprayer，orinthescentandfeeloftheclover，hefoundpresentlyacertainrest。AwayinthedistancehecouldseethespireofHarrowChurch。
　　TheChurch！No！Shewasnot，couldnotbe，atfault。Thefaultwasinhimself。’Iamunpractical，’hethought。’Itisso，Iknow。
　　Agnesusedtosayso，BobandThirzathinkso。Theyallthinkmeunpracticalanddreamy。Isitasin——Iwonder？’Therewerelambsinthenextfield;hewatchedtheirgambollingsandhisheartrelaxed;
　　brushingthecloverdustoffhisblackclothes，hebegantoretracehissteps。Theboyswereplayingcricketnow，andhestoodafewminuteswatchingthem。Hehadnotseencricketplayedsincethewarbegan;itseemedalmostotherworldly，withtheclickofthebats，andtheshrillyoung’voices，underthedistantdroneofthatsky—hornetthreshingalongtoHendon。Aboymadeagoodleghit。"Wellplayed！"hecalled。Then，suddenlyconsciousofhisownincongruityandstrangenessinthatgreenspot，heturnedawayontheroadbacktoLondon。Toresign;toawaitevents;tosendNoelaway——ofthosethreecourses，thelastaloneseemedimpossible。’AmIreallysofarfromthem，’hethought，’thattheycanwishmetogo，forthis？Ifso，Ihadbettergo。Itwillbejustanotherfailure。ButIwon’tbelieveityet;Ican’tbelieveit。’
　　Theheatwassweltering，andhebecameverytiredbeforeatlasthereachedhisomnibus，andcouldsitwiththebreezecoolinghishotface。Hedidnotreachhometillsix，havingeatennothingsincebreakfast。Intendingtohaveabathandliedowntilldinner，hewentupstairs。