’Nonsense，Mary；MissHarding’sheartisassafeasyours。’
　　’Pray，pray，formysake，John，giveitup。Youknowhowdearlyyouloveher。’Andshecameandkneltbeforehimontherug。’Praygiveitup。Youaregoingtomakeyourself，andher，andherfathermiserable:youaregoingtomakeusallmiserable。Andforwhat？Foradreamofjustice。Youwillnevermakethosetwelvemenhappierthantheynoware。’
　　’Youdon’tunderstandit，mydeargirl，’saidhe，smoothingherhairwithhishand。
　　’Idounderstandit，John。Iunderstandthatthisisachimera——adreamthatyouhavegot。Iknowwellthatnodutycanrequireyoutodothismad——thissuicidalthing。I
　　knowyouloveEleanorHardingwithallyourheart，andItellyounowthatshelovesyouaswell。Iftherewasaplain，apositivedutybeforeyou，Iwouldbethelasttobidyouneglectitforanywoman’slove；butthis——oh，thinkagain，beforeyoudoanythingtomakeitnecessarythatyouandMrHardingshouldbeatvariance。’Hedidnotanswer，asshekneltthere，leaningonhisknees，butbyhisfaceshethoughtthathewasinclinedtoyield。’Atanyrateletmesaythatyouwillgotothisparty。Atanyratedonotbreakwiththemwhileyourmindisindoubt。’Andshegotup，hopingtoconcludehernoteinthewayshedesired。
　　’Mymindisnotindoubt，’atlasthesaid，rising。’IcouldneverrespectmyselfagainwereItogivewaynow，becauseEleanorHardingisbeautiful。Idoloveher:Iwouldgiveahandtohearhertellmewhatyouhavesaid，speakingonherbehalf；butIcannotforhersakegobackfromthetaskwhichIhavecommenced。Ihopeshemayhereafteracknowledgeandrespectmymotives，butIcannotnowgoasaguesttoherfather’shouse。’AndtheBarchesterBrutuswentouttofortifyhisownresolutionbymeditationsonhisownvirtue。
　　PoorMaryBoldsatdown，andsadlyfinishedhernote，sayingthatshewouldherselfattendtheparty，butthatherbrotherwasunavoidablypreventedfromdoingso。Ifearthatshedidnotadmireassheshouldhavedonetheself-devotionofhissingularvirtue。
　　Thepartywentoffassuchpartiesdo。Therewerefatoldladies，infinesilkdresses，andslimyoungladies，ingauzymuslinfrocks；oldgentlemenstoodupwiththeirbackstotheemptyfire-place，lookingbynomeanssocomfortableastheywouldhavedoneintheirownarm-chairsathome；andyounggentlemen，ratherstiffabouttheneck，clusterednearthedoor，notasyetsufficientlyincouragetoattackthemuslinfrocks，whoawaitedthebattle，drawnupinasemicirculararray。
　　Thewardenendeavouredtoinduceacharge，butfailedsignally，nothavingthetactofageneral；hisdaughterdidwhatshecouldtocomforttheforcesunderhercommand，whotookinrefreshingrationsofcakeandtea，andpatientlylookedforthecomingengagement:butsheherself，Eleanor，hadnospiritforthework；theonlyenemywhoselanceshecaredtoencounterwasnotthere，andsheandothersweresomewhatdull。
　　Loudaboveallvoiceswasheardtheclearsonoroustonesofthearchdeaconashedilatedtobrotherparsonsofthedangerofthechurch，ofthefearfulrumoursofmadreformsevenatOxford，andofthedamnableheresiesofDrWhiston。
　　Soon，however，sweetersoundsbegantimidlytomakethemselvesaudible。Littlemovementsweremadeinaquarternotableforroundstoolsandmusicstands。Waxcandleswerearrangedinsconces，bigbookswerebroughtfromhiddenrecesses，andtheworkoftheeveningcommenced。
　　Howoftenwerethosepegstwistedandre-twistedbeforeourfriendfoundthathehadtwistedthemenough；howmanydiscordantscrapesgavepromiseofthecomingharmony。
　　HowmuchthemuslinflutteredandcrumpledbeforeEleanorandanothernymphweredulyseatedatthepiano；howcloselydidthattallApollopackhimselfagainstthewall，withhisflute，longashimself，extendinghighovertheheadsofhisprettyneighbours；intohowsmallacornercreptthatroundandfloridlittleminorcanon，andtherewithskillamazingfoundroomtotunehisaccustomedfiddle！
　　Andnowthecrashbegins:awaytheygoinfullflowofharmonytogether——uphillanddowndale——nowlouderandlouder，thenlowerandlower；nowloud，asthoughstirringthebattle；thenlow，asthoughmourningtheslain。Inall，throughall，andaboveall，isheardthevioloncello。Ah，notfornothingwerethosepegssotwistedandre-twisted——listen，listen！Nowalonethatsaddestofinstrumentstellsitstouchingtale。Silent，andinawe，standfiddle，flute，andpiano，tohearthesorrowsoftheirwailingbrother。’Tisbutforamoment:
　　beforethemelancholyofthoselownoteshasbeenfullyrealised，againcomesthefullforceofalltheband——downgothepedals，awayrushtwentyfingersscouringoverthebassnoteswithalltheimpetusofpassion。Apolloblowstillhisstiffneckclothisnobetterthanarope，andtheminorcanonworkswithbotharmstillhefallsinasyncopeofexhaustionagainstthewall。
　　Howcomesitthatnow，whenallshouldbesilent，whencourtesy，ifnottaste，shouldmakemenlisten——howisitatthismomenttheblack-coatedcorpsleavetheirretreatandbeginskirmishing？Onebyonetheycreepforth，andfireofflittlegunstimidly，andwithoutprecision。Ah，mymen，effortssuchasthesewilltakenocities，eventhoughtheenemyshouldbeneversoopentoassault。Atlengthamoredeadlyartilleryisbroughttobear；slowly，butwitheffect，theadvanceismade；
　　themuslinranksarebroken，andfallintoconfusion；theformidablearrayofchairsgivesway；thebattleisnolongerbetweenopposingregiments，buthandtohand，andfoottofootwithsinglecombatants，asinthegloriousdaysofold，whenfightingwasreallynoble。Incorners，andundertheshadowofcurtains，behindsofasandhalfhiddenbydoors，inretiringwindows，andshelteredbyhangingtapestry，areblowsgivenandreturned，fatal，incurable，dealingdeath。
　　Apartfromthisanothercombatarises，moresoberandmoreserious。Thearchdeaconisengagedagainsttwoprebendaries，apursyfull-blownrectorassistinghim，inalltheperilsandalltheenjoymentsofshortwhist。Withsolemnenergydotheywatchtheshuffledpack，and，all-expectant，eyethecomingtrump。Withwhatanxiousnicetydotheyarrangetheircards，jealousofeachother’seyes！Whyisthatleandoctorsoslow——
　　cadaverousmanwithhollowjawandsunkeneye，illbeseemingtherichnessofhismotherchurch！Ah，whysoslow，thoumeagredoctor？Seehowthearchdeacon，speechlessinhisagony，depositsontheboardhiscards，andlookstoheavenortotheceilingforsupport。Hark，howhesighs，aswiththumbsinhiswaistcoatpocketheseemstosignifythattheendofsuchtormentisnotyetevennighathand！Vainisthehope，ifhopetherebe，todisturbthatmeagredoctor。Withcarepreciseheplaceseverycard，weighswellthevalueofeachmightyace，eachguardedking，andcomfort-givingqueen；
　　speculatesonknaveandten，countsallhissuits，andsetshispriceuponthewhole。Atlengthacardisled，andquickthreeothersfallupontheboard。Thelittledoctorleadsagain，whilewithlustrouseyehispartnerabsorbsthetrick。Nowthricehasthisbeendone——thricehasconstantfortunefavouredthebraceofprebendaries，erethearchdeaconrouseshimselftothebattle；butatthefourthassaulthepinstotheearthaprostrateking，layinglowhiscrownandsceptre，bushybeard，andloweringbrow，withapoordeuce。
　　’AsDaviddidGoliath，’saysthearchdeacon，pushingoverthefourcardstohispartner。Andthenatrumpisled，thenanothertrump；thenaking——andthenanace——andthenalongten，whichbringsdownfromthemeagredoctorhisonlyremainingtowerofstrength——hischerishedqueenoftrumps。
　　’What，nosecondclub？’saysthearchdeacontohispartner。
　　’Onlyoneclub，’muttersfromhisinmoststomachthepursyrector，whositstherered-faced，silent，impervious，careful，asafebutnotabrilliantally。
　　Butthearchdeaconcaresnotformanyclubs，orfornone。
　　Hedashesouthisremainingcardswithaspeedmostannoyingtohisantagonists，pushesovertothemsomefourcardsastheirallottedportion，shovestheremainderacrossthetabletothered-facedrector；callsout’twobycardsandtwobyhonours，andtheoddtricklasttime，’marksatrebleunderthecandle-
　　stick，andhasdealtroundthesecondpackbeforethemeagredoctorhascalculatedhislosses。
　　Andsowentoffthewarden’sparty，andmenandwomenarrangingshawlsandshoesdeclaredhowpleasantithadbeen；
　　andMrsGoodenough，thered-facedrector’swife，pressingthewarden’shand，declaredshehadneverenjoyedherselfbetter；
　　whichshowedhowlittlepleasuresheallowedherselfinthisworld，asshehadsatthewholeeveningthroughinthesamechairwithoutoccupation，notspeaking，andunspokento。
　　AndMatildaJohnson，whensheallowedyoungDicksonofthebanktofastenhercloakroundherneck，thoughtthattwohundredpoundsayearandalittlecottagewouldreallydoforhappiness；besides，hewassuretobemanagersomeday。
　　AndApollo，foldinghisfluteintohispocket，feltthathehadacquittedhimselfwithhonour；andthearchdeaconpleasantlyjingledhisgains；butthemeagredoctorwentoffwithoutmuchaudiblespeech，mutteringeverandanonashewent，’threeandthirtypoints！’’threeandthirtypoints！’
　　Andsotheyallweregone，andMrHardingwasleftalonewithhisdaughter。
　　WhathadpassedbetweenEleanorHardingandMaryBoldneednotbetold。Itisindeedamatterofthankfulnessthatneitherthehistoriannorthenovelisthearsallthatissaidbytheirheroesorheroines，orhowwouldthreevolumesortwentysuffice！InthepresentcasesolittleofthissorthaveIoverheard，thatIliveinhopesoffinishingmyworkwithin300pages，andofcompletingthatpleasanttask——anovelinonevolume；butsomethinghadpassedbetweenthem，andasthewardenblewoutthewaxcandles，andputhisinstrumentintoitscase，hisdaughterstoodsadandthoughtfulbytheemptyfire-place，determinedtospeaktoherfather，butirresoluteastowhatshewouldsay。
　　’Well，Eleanor，’saidhe，’areyouforbed？’
　　’Yes，’saidshe，moving，’Isupposeso；butpapa——MrBoldwasnotheretonight；doyouknowwhynot？’
　　’Hewasasked；Iwrotetohimmyself，’saidthewarden。
　　’Butdoyouknowwhyhedidnotcome，papa？’
　　’Well，Eleanor，Icouldguess；butit’snouseguessingatsuchthings，mydear。Whatmakesyoulooksoearnestaboutit？’