“Andthat'sQueenieColquhoun，“shewenton，turningthepages，“whotookhercoffinoutwithhertoJamaica，packedwithlovelyshawlsandbonnets，becauseyoucouldn'tgetcoffinsinJamaica，andshehadahorrorofdyingthereasshedid，andbeingdevouredbythewhiteants。Andthere'sSabine，theloveliestofthemall；ah！itwaslikeastarrisingwhenshecameintotheroom。Andthat'sMiriam，inhercoachman'scloak，withallthelittlecapeson，andsheworegreattop-bootsunderneath。Youyoungpeoplemaysayyou'reunconventional，butyou'renothingcomparedwithher。“
　　Turningthepage，shecameuponthepictureofaverymasculine，handsomelady，whoseheadthephotographerhadadornedwithanimperialcrown。
　　“Ah，youwretch！“Mrs。Hilberyexclaimed，“whatawickedolddespotyouwere，inyourday！Howweallboweddownbeforeyou！'Maggie，'sheusedtosay，'ifithadn'tbeenforme，wherewouldyoubenow？'Anditwastrue；shebroughtthemtogether，youknow。Shesaidtomyfather，'Marryher，'andhedid；andshesaidtopoorlittleClara，'Falldownandworshiphim，'andshedid；butshegotupagain，ofcourse。Whatelsecouldoneexpect？Shewasamerechild——eighteen——
　　andhalfdeadwithfright，too。Butthatoldtyrantneverrepented。
　　Sheusedtosaythatshehadgiventhemthreeperfectmonths，andnoonehadarighttomore；andIsometimesthink，Katharine，that'strue，youknow。It'smorethanmostofushave，onlywehavetopretend，whichwasathingneitherofthemcouldeverdo。Ifancy，“
　　Mrs。Hilberymused，“thattherewasakindofsincerityinthosedaysbetweenmenandwomenwhich，withallyouroutspokenness，youhaven'tgot。“
　　Katharineagaintriedtointerrupt。ButMrs。Hilberyhadbeengatheringimpetusfromherrecollections，andwasnowinhighspirits。
　　“Theymusthavebeengoodfriendsatheart，“sheresumed，“becausesheusedtosinghissongs。Ah，howdiditgo？“andMrs。Hilbery，whohadaverysweetvoice，trolledoutafamouslyricofherfather'swhichhadbeensettoanabsurdlyandcharminglysentimentalairbysomeearlyVictoriancomposer。
　　“It'sthevitalityofthem！“sheconcluded，strikingherfistagainstthetable。“That'swhatwehaven'tgot！We'revirtuous，we'reearnest，wegotomeetings，wepaythepoortheirwages，butwedon'tliveastheylived。Asoftenasnot，myfatherwasn'tinbedthreenightsoutoftheseven，butalwaysfreshaspaintinthemorning。Ihearhimnow，comesingingupthestairstothenursery，andtossingtheloafforbreakfastonhissword-stick，andthenoffwewentforaday'spleasuring——Richmond，HamptonCourt，theSurreyHills。Whyshouldn'twego，Katharine？It'sgoingtobeafineday。“
　　Atthismoment，justasMrs。Hilberywasexaminingtheweatherfromthewindow，therewasaknockatthedoor。Aslight，elderlyladycamein，andwassalutedbyKatharine，withveryevidentdismay，as“AuntCelia！“ShewasdismayedbecausesheguessedwhyAuntCeliahadcome。
　　ItwascertainlyinordertodiscussthecaseofCyrilandthewomanwhowasnothiswife，andowingtoherprocrastinationMrs。Hilberywasquiteunprepared。Whocouldbemoreunprepared？Hereshewas，suggestingthatallthreeofthemshouldgoonajaunttoBlackfriarstoinspectthesiteofShakespeare'stheater，fortheweatherwashardlysettledenoughforthecountry。
　　TothisproposalMrs。Milvainlistenedwithapatientsmile，whichindicatedthatformanyyearsshehadacceptedsucheccentricitiesinhersister-in-lawwithblandphilosophy。Katharinetookupherpositionatsomedistance，standingwithherfootonthefender，asthoughbysodoingshecouldgetabetterviewofthematter。But，inspiteofheraunt'spresence，howunrealthewholequestionofCyrilandhismoralityappeared！Thedifficulty，itnowseemed，wasnottobreakthenewsgentlytoMrs。Hilbery，buttomakeherunderstandit。
　　Howwasonetolassohermind，andtetherittothisminute，unimportantspot？Amatter-of-factstatementseemedbest。
　　“IthinkAuntCeliahascometotalkaboutCyril，mother，“shesaidratherbrutally。“AuntCeliahasdiscoveredthatCyrilismarried。Hehasawifeandchildren。“
　　“No，heisNOTmarried，“Mrs。Milvaininterposed，inlowtones，addressingherselftoMrs。Hilbery。“Hehastwochildren，andanotherontheway。“
　　Mrs。Hilberylookedfromonetotheotherinbewilderment。
　　“Wethoughtitbettertowaituntilitwasprovedbeforewetoldyou，“
　　Katharineadded。
　　“ButImetCyrilonlyafortnightagoattheNationalGallery！“Mrs。
　　Hilberyexclaimed。“Idon'tbelieveawordofit，“andshetossedherheadwithasmileonherlipsatMrs。Milvain，asthoughshecouldquiteunderstandhermistake，whichwasaverynaturalmistake，inthecaseofachildlesswoman，whosehusbandwassomethingverydullintheBoardofTrade。
　　“Ididn'tWISHtobelieveit，Maggie，“saidMrs。Milvain。“ForalongtimeICOULDN'Tbelieveit。ButnowI'veseen，andIHAVEtobelieveit。“
　　“Katharine，“Mrs。Hilberydemanded，“doesyourfatherknowofthis？“
　　Katharinenodded。
　　“Cyrilmarried！“Mrs。Hilberyrepeated。“Andnevertellingusaword，thoughwe'vehadhiminourhousesincehewasachild——nobleWilliam'sson！Ican'tbelievemyears！“
　　Feelingthattheburdenofproofwaslaiduponher，Mrs。Milvainnowproceededwithherstory。Shewaselderlyandfragile，butherchildlessnessseemedalwaystoimposethesepainfuldutiesonher，andtoreverethefamily，andtokeepitinrepair，hadnowbecomethechiefobjectofherlife。Shetoldherstoryinalow，spasmodic，andsomewhatbrokenvoice。
　　“Ihavesuspectedforsometimethathewasnothappy。Therewerenewlinesonhisface。SoIwenttohisrooms，whenIknewhewasengagedatthepoormen'scollege。Helecturesthere——Romanlaw，youknow，oritmaybeGreek。ThelandladysaidMr。Alardyceonlysleptthereaboutonceafortnightnow。Helookedsoill，shesaid。Shehadseenhimwithayoungperson。Isuspectedsomethingdirectly。Iwenttohisroom，andtherewasanenvelopeonthemantelpiece，andaletterwithanaddressinSetonStreet，offtheKenningtonRoad。“
　　Mrs。Hilberyfidgetedratherrestlessly，andhummedfragmentsofhertune，asiftointerrupt。
　　“IwenttoSetonStreet，“AuntCeliacontinuedfirmly。“Averylowplace——lodging-houses，youknow，withcanariesinthewindow。Numbersevenjustlikealltheothers。Irang，Iknocked；noonecame。Iwentdownthearea。IamcertainIsawsomeoneinside——children——acradle。
　　Butnoreply——noreply。“Shesighed，andlookedstraightinfrontofherwithaglazedexpressioninherhalf-veiledblueeyes。
　　“Istoodinthestreet，“sheresumed，“incaseIcouldcatchasightofoneofthem。Itseemedaverylongtime。Therewereroughmensinginginthepublic-houseroundthecorner。Atlastthedooropened，andsomeone——itmusthavebeenthewomanherself——camerightpastme。
　　Therewasonlythepillar-boxbetweenus。“
　　“Andwhatdidshelooklike？“Mrs。Hilberydemanded。
　　“Onecouldseehowthepoorboyhadbeendeluded，“wasallthatMrs。
　　Milvainvouchsafedbywayofdescription。
　　“Poorthing！“Mrs。Hilberyexclaimed。
　　“PoorCyril！“Mrs。Milvainsaid，layingaslightemphasisuponCyril。
　　“Butthey'vegotnothingtoliveupon，“Mrs。Hilberycontinued。“Ifhe'dcometouslikeaman，“shewenton，“andsaid，'I'vebeenafool，'onewouldhavepitiedhim；onewouldhavetriedtohelphim。
　　There'snothingsodisgracefulafterall——Buthe'sbeengoingaboutalltheseyears，pretending，lettingonetakeitforgranted，thathewassingle。Andthepoordesertedlittlewife——“
　　“SheisNOThiswife，“AuntCeliainterrupted。
　　“I'veneverheardanythingsodetestable！“Mrs。Hilberywoundup，strikingherfistonthearmofherchair。Assherealizedthefactsshebecamethoroughlydisgusted，although，perhaps，shewasmorehurtbytheconcealmentofthesinthanbythesinitself。Shelookedsplendidlyrousedandindignant；andKatharinefeltanimmensereliefandprideinhermother。Itwasplainthatherindignationwasverygenuine，andthathermindwasasperfectlyfocuseduponthefactsasanyonecouldwish——moreso，byalongway，thanAuntCelia'smind，whichseemedtobetimidlycircling，withamorbidpleasure，intheseunpleasantshades。Sheandhermothertogetherwouldtakethesituationinhand，visitCyril，andseethewholethingthrough。
　　“WemustrealizeCyril'spointofviewfirst，“shesaid，speakingdirectlytohermother，asiftoacontemporary，butbeforethewordswereoutofhermouth，therewasmoreconfusionoutside，andCousinCaroline，Mrs。Hilbery'smaidencousin，enteredtheroom。AlthoughshewasbybirthanAlardyce，andAuntCeliaaHilbery，thecomplexitiesofthefamilyrelationshipweresuchthateachwasatoncefirstandsecondcousintotheother，andthusauntandcousintotheculpritCyril，sothathismisbehaviorwasalmostasmuchCousinCaroline'saffairasAuntCelia's。CousinCarolinewasaladyofveryimposingheightandcircumference，butinspiteofhersizeandherhandsometrappings，therewassomethingexposedandunshelteredinherexpression，asifformanysummersherthinredskinandhookednoseandreduplicationofchins，somuchresemblingtheprofileofacockatoo，hadbeenbaredtotheweather；shewas，indeed，asinglelady；butshehad，itwasthehabittosay，“madealifeforherself，“
　　andwasthusentitledtobeheardwithrespect。
　　“Thisunhappybusiness，“shebegan，outofbreathasshewas。“IfthetrainhadnotgoneoutofthestationjustasIarrived，Ishouldhavebeenwithyoubefore。Celiahasdoubtlesstoldyou。Youwillagreewithme，Maggie。Hemustbemadetomarryheratonceforthesakeofthechildren——“
　　“Butdoesherefusetomarryher？“Mrs。Hilberyinquired，withareturnofherbewilderment。
　　“Hehaswrittenanabsurdpervertedletter，allquotations，“CousinCarolinepuffed。“Hethinkshe'sdoingaveryfinething，whereweonlyseethefollyofit……Thegirl'severybitasinfatuatedasheis——forwhichIblamehim。“
　　“Sheentangledhim，“AuntCeliaintervened，withaverycurioussmoothnessofintonation，whichseemedtoconveyavisionofthreadsweavingandinterweavingaclose，whitemeshroundtheirvictim。
　　“It'snousegoingintotherightsandwrongsoftheaffairnow，Celia，“saidCousinCarolinewithsomeacerbity，forshebelievedherselftheonlypracticaloneofthefamily，andregrettedthat，owingtotheslownessofthekitchenclock，Mrs。MilvainhadalreadyconfusedpoordearMaggiewithherownincompleteversionofthefacts。“Themischief'sdone，andveryuglymischieftoo。Arewetoallowthethirdchildtobebornoutofwedlock？Iamsorrytohavetosaythesethingsbeforeyou，Katharine。Hewillbearyourname，Maggie——yourfather'sname，remember。“
　　“Butletushopeitwillbeagirl，“saidMrs。Hilbery。
　　Katharine，whohadbeenlookingathermotherconstantly，whilethechatteroftonguesheldsway，perceivedthatthelookofstraightforwardindignationhadalreadyvanished；hermotherwasevidentlycastingaboutinhermindforsomemethodofescape，orbrightspot，orsuddenilluminationwhichshouldshowtothesatisfactionofeverybodythatallhadhappened，miraculouslybutincontestably，forthebest。
　　“It'sdetestable——quitedetestable！“sherepeated，butintonesofnogreatassurance；andthenherfacelitupwithasmilewhich，tentativeatfirst，soonbecamealmostassured。“Nowadays，peopledon'tthinksobadlyofthesethingsastheyusedtodo，“shebegan。
　　“Itwillbehorriblyuncomfortableforthemsometimes，butiftheyarebrave，cleverchildren，astheywillbe，Idaresayit'llmakeremarkablepeopleofthemintheend。RobertBrowningusedtosaythateverygreatmanhasJewishbloodinhim，andwemusttrytolookatitinthatlight。And，afterall，Cyrilhasactedonprinciple。Onemaydisagreewithhisprinciple，but，atleast，onecanrespectit——liketheFrenchRevolution，orCromwellcuttingtheKing'sheadoff。Someofthemostterriblethingsinhistoryhavebeendoneonprinciple，“
　　sheconcluded。
　　“I'mafraidItakeaverydifferentviewofprinciple，“CousinCarolineremarkedtartly。
　　“Principle！“AuntCeliarepeated，withanairofdeprecatingsuchawordinsuchaconnection。“Iwillgoto-morrowandseehim，“sheadded。
　　“Butwhyshouldyoutakethesedisagreeablethingsuponyourself，Celia？“Mrs。Hilberyinterposed，andCousinCarolinethereuponprotestedwithsomefurtherplaninvolvingsacrificeofherself。
　　Growingwearyofitall，Katharineturnedtothewindow，andstoodamongthefoldsofthecurtain，pressingclosetothewindow-pane，andgazingdisconsolatelyattherivermuchintheattitudeofachilddepressedbythemeaninglesstalkofitselders。Shewasmuchdisappointedinhermother——andinherselftoo。Thelittletugwhichshegavetotheblind，lettingitflyuptothetopwithasnap，signifiedherannoyance。Shewasveryangry，andyetimpotenttogiveexpressiontoheranger，orknowwithwhomshewasangry。Howtheytalkedandmoralizedandmadeupstoriestosuittheirownversionofthebecoming，andsecretlypraisedtheirowndevotionandtact！No；
　　theyhadtheirdwellinginamist，shedecided；hundredsofmilesaway——awayfromwhat？“PerhapsitwouldbebetterifImarriedWilliam，“
　　shethoughtsuddenly，andthethoughtappearedtoloomthroughthemistlikesolidground。Shestoodthere，thinkingofherowndestiny，andtheelderladiestalkedon，untiltheyhadtalkedthemselvesintoadecisiontoasktheyoungwomantoluncheon，andtellher，veryfriendlily，howsuchbehaviorappearedtowomenlikethemselves，whoknewtheworld。AndthenMrs。Hilberywasstruckbyabetteridea。
　　CHAPTERX
　　Messrs。GrateleyandHooper，thesolicitorsinwhosefirmRalphDenhamwasclerk，hadtheirofficeinLincoln'sInnFields，andthereRalphDenhamappearedeverymorningverypunctuallyatteno'clock。Hispunctuality，togetherwithotherqualities，markedhimoutamongtheclerksforsuccess，andindeeditwouldhavebeensafetowagerthatintenyears'timeorsoonewouldfindhimattheheadofhisprofession，haditnotbeenforapeculiaritywhichsometimesseemedtomakeeverythingabouthimuncertainandperilous。HissisterJoanhadalreadybeendisturbedbyhisloveofgamblingwithhissavings。
　　Scrutinizinghimconstantlywiththeeyeofaffection，shehadbecomeawareofacuriousperversityinhistemperamentwhichcausedhermuchanxiety，andwouldhavecausedherstillmoreifshehadnotrecognizedthegermsofitinherownnature。ShecouldfancyRalphsuddenlysacrificinghisentirecareerforsomefantasticimagination；
　　somecauseorideaorevensoherfancyranforsomewomanseenfromarailwaytrain，hangingupclothesinabackyard。Whenhehadfoundthisbeautyorthiscause，noforce，sheknew，wouldavailtorestrainhimfrompursuitofit。ShesuspectedtheEastalso，andalwaysfidgetedherselfwhenshesawhimwithabookofIndiantravelsinhishand，asthoughheweresuckingcontagionfromthepage。Ontheotherhand，nocommonloveaffair，hadtherebeensuchathing，wouldhavecausedheramoment'suneasinesswhereRalphwasconcerned。Hewasdestinedinherfancyforsomethingsplendidinthewayofsuccessorfailure，sheknewnotwhich。
　　Andyetnobodycouldhaveworkedharderordonebetterinalltherecognizedstagesofayoungman'slifethanRalphhaddone，andJoanhadtogathermaterialsforherfearsfromtriflesinherbrother'sbehaviorwhichwouldhaveescapedanyothereye。Itwasnaturalthatsheshouldbeanxious。Lifehadbeensoarduousforallofthemfromthestartthatshecouldnothelpdreadinganysuddenrelaxationofhisgraspuponwhatheheld，though，assheknewfrominspectionofherownlife，suchsuddenimpulsetoletgoandmakeawayfromthedisciplineandthedrudgerywassometimesalmostirresistible。ButwithRalph，ifhebrokeaway，sheknewthatitwouldbeonlytoputhimselfunderharsherconstraint；shefiguredhimtoilingthroughsandydesertsunderatropicalsuntofindthesourceofsomeriverorthehauntofsomefly；shefiguredhimlivingbythelaborofhishandsinsomecityslum，thevictimofoneofthoseterribletheoriesofrightandwrongwhichwerecurrentatthetime；shefiguredhimprisonerforlifeinthehouseofawomanwhohadseducedhimbyhermisfortunes。Halfproudly，andwhollyanxiously，sheframedsuchthoughts，astheysat，lateatnight，talkingtogetheroverthegas-stoveinRalph'sbedroom。
　　ItislikelythatRalphwouldnothaverecognizedhisowndreamofafutureintheforecastswhichdisturbedhissister'speaceofmind。
　　Certainly，ifanyoneofthemhadbeenputbeforehimhewouldhaverejecteditwithalaugh，asthesortoflifethatheldnoattractionsforhim。Hecouldnothavesaidhowitwasthathehadputtheseabsurdnotionsintohissister'shead。Indeed，hepridedhimselfuponbeingwellbrokenintoalifeofhardwork，aboutwhichhehadnosortofillusions。Hisvisionofhisownfuture，unlikemanysuchforecasts，couldhavebeenmadepublicatanymomentwithoutablush；
　　heattributedtohimselfastrongbrain，andconferredonhimselfaseatintheHouseofCommonsattheageoffifty，amoderatefortune，and，withluck，anunimportantofficeinaLiberalGovernment。Therewasnothingextravagantinaforecastofthatkind，andcertainlynothingdishonorable。Nevertheless，ashissisterguessed，itneededallRalph'sstrengthofwill，togetherwiththepressureofcircumstances，tokeephisfeetmovinginthepathwhichledthatway。
　　Itneeded，inparticular，aconstantrepetitionofaphrasetotheeffectthathesharedthecommonfate，founditbestofall，andwishedfornoother；andbyrepeatingsuchphrasesheacquiredpunctualityandhabitsofwork，andcouldveryplausiblydemonstratethattobeaclerkinasolicitor'sofficewasthebestofallpossiblelives，andthatotherambitionswerevain。
　　But，likeallbeliefsnotgenuinelyheld，thisonedependedverymuchupontheamountofacceptanceitreceivedfromotherpeople，andinprivate，whenthepressureofpublicopinionwasremoved，Ralphlethimselfswingveryrapidlyawayfromhisactualcircumstancesuponstrangevoyageswhich，indeed，hewouldhavebeenashamedtodescribe。
　　Inthesedreams，ofcourse，hefiguredinnobleandromanticparts，butself-glorificationwasnottheonlymotiveofthem。Theygaveoutlettosomespiritwhichfoundnoworktodoinreallife，for，withthepessimismwhichhislotforceduponhim，Ralphhadmadeuphismindthattherewasnouseforwhat，contemptuouslyenough，hecalleddreams，intheworldwhichweinhabit。Itsometimesseemedtohimthatthisspiritwasthemostvaluablepossessionhehad；hethoughtthatbymeansofithecouldsetfloweringwastetractsoftheearth，curemanyills，orraiseupbeautywherenonenowexisted；itwas，too，afierceandpotentspiritwhichwoulddevourthedustybooksandparchmentsontheofficewallwithonelickofitstongue，andleavehiminaminutestandinginnakedness，ifhegavewaytoit。
　　Hisendeavor，formanyyears，hadbeentocontrolthespirit，andattheageoftwenty-ninehethoughthecouldpridehimselfuponaliferigidlydividedintothehoursofworkandthoseofdreams；thetwolivedsidebysidewithoutharmingeachother。Asamatteroffact，thiseffortatdisciplinehadbeenhelpedbytheinterestsofadifficultprofession，buttheoldconclusiontowhichRalphhadcomewhenheleftcollegestillheldswayinhismind，andtingedhisviewswiththemelancholybeliefthatlifeformostpeoplecompelstheexerciseofthelowergiftsandwastesthepreciousones，untilitforcesustoagreethatthereislittlevirtue，aswellaslittleprofit，inwhatonceseemedtousthenoblestpartofourinheritance。
　　Denhamwasnotaltogetherpopulareitherinhisofficeoramonghisfamily。Hewastoopositive，atthisstageofhiscareer，astowhatwasrightandwhatwrong，tooproudofhisself-control，and，asisnaturalinthecaseofpersonsnotaltogetherhappyorwellsuitedintheirconditions，tooapttoprovethefollyofcontentment，ifhefoundanyonewhoconfessedtothatweakness。Intheofficehisratherostentatiousefficiencyannoyedthosewhotooktheirownworkmorelightly，and，iftheyforetoldhisadvancement，itwasnotaltogethersympathetically。Indeed，heappearedtoberatherahardandself-
　　sufficientyoungman，withaqueertemper，andmannersthatwereuncompromisinglyabrupt，whowasconsumedwithadesiretogetonintheworld，whichwasnatural，thesecriticsthought，inamanofnomeans，butnotengaging。
　　Theyoungmenintheofficehadaperfectrighttotheseopinions，becauseDenhamshowednoparticulardesirefortheirfriendship。Helikedthemwellenough，butshutthemupinthatcompartmentoflifewhichwasdevotedtowork。Hitherto，indeed，hehadfoundlittledifficultyinarranginghislifeasmethodicallyashearrangedhisexpenditure，butaboutthistimehebegantoencounterexperienceswhichwerenotsoeasytoclassify。MaryDatchethadbegunthisconfusiontwoyearsagobyburstingintolaughteratsomeremarkofhis，almostthefirsttimetheymet。Shecouldnotexplainwhyitwas。
　　Shethoughthimquiteastonishinglyodd。WhenheknewherwellenoughtotellherhowhespentMondayandWednesdayandSaturday，shewasstillmoreamused；shelaughedtillhelaughed，too，withoutknowingwhy。ItseemedtoherveryoddthatheshouldknowasmuchaboutbreedingbulldogsasanymaninEngland；thathehadacollectionofwildflowersfoundnearLondon；andhisweeklyvisittooldMissTrotteratEaling，whowasanauthorityuponthescienceofHeraldry，neverfailedtoexciteherlaughter。Shewantedtoknoweverything，eventhekindofcakewhichtheoldladysuppliedontheseoccasions；
　　andtheirsummerexcursionstochurchesintheneighborhoodofLondonforthepurposeoftakingrubbingsofthebrassesbecamemostimportantfestivals，fromtheinterestshetookinthem。Insixmonthssheknewmoreabouthisoddfriendsandhobbiesthanhisownbrothersandsistersknew，afterlivingwithhimallhislife；andRalphfoundthisverypleasant，thoughdisordering，forhisownviewofhimselfhadalwaysbeenprofoundlyserious。
　　CertainlyitwasverypleasanttobewithMaryDatchetandtobecome，directlythedoorwasshut，quiteadifferentsortofperson，eccentricandlovable，withscarcelyanylikenesstotheselfmostpeopleknew。Hebecamelessserious，andratherlessdictatorialathome，forhewasapttohearMarylaughingathim，andtellinghim，asshewasfondofdoing，thatheknewnothingatallaboutanything。Shemadehim，also，takeaninterestinpublicquestions，forwhichshehadanaturalliking；andwasinprocessofturninghimfromTorytoRadical，afteracourseofpublicmeetings，whichbeganbyboringhimacutely，andendedbyexcitinghimevenmorethantheyexcitedher。
　　Buthewasreserved；whenideasstartedupinhismind，hedividedthemautomaticallyintothosehecoulddiscusswithMary，andthosehemustkeepforhimself。Sheknewthisanditinterestedher，forshewasaccustomedtofindyoungmenveryreadytotalkaboutthemselves，andhadcometolistentothemasonelistenstochildren，withoutanythoughtofherself。ButwithRalph，shehadverylittleofthismaternalfeeling，and，inconsequence，amuchkeenersenseofherownindividuality。
　　LateoneafternoonRalphsteppedalongtheStrandtoaninterviewwithalawyeruponbusiness。Theafternoonlightwasalmostover，andalreadystreamsofgreenishandyellowishartificiallightwerebeingpouredintoanatmospherewhich，incountrylanes，wouldnowhavebeensoftwiththesmokeofwoodfires；andonbothsidesoftheroadtheshopwindowswerefullofsparklingchainsandhighlypolishedleathercases，whichstooduponshelvesmadeofthickplate-glass。NoneofthesedifferentobjectswasseenseparatelybyDenham，butfromallofthemhedrewanimpressionofstirandcheerfulness。ThusitcameaboutthathesawKatharineHilberycomingtowardshim，andlookedstraightather，asifshewereonlyanillustrationoftheargumentthatwasgoingforwardinhismind。Inthisspirithenoticedtherathersetexpressioninhereyes，andtheslight，half-consciousmovementofherlips，which，togetherwithherheightandthedistinctionofherdress，madeherlookasifthescurryingcrowdimpededher，andherdirectionweredifferentfromtheirs。Henoticedthiscalmly；butsuddenly，ashepassedher，hishandsandkneesbegantotremble，andhisheartbeatpainfully。Shedidnotseehim，andwentonrepeatingtoherselfsomelineswhichhadstucktohermemory:
　　“It'slifethatmatters，nothingbutlife——theprocessofdiscovering——theeverlastingandperpetualprocess，notthediscoveryitselfatall。“Thusoccupied，shedidnotseeDenham，andhehadnotthecouragetostopher。ButimmediatelythewholesceneintheStrandworethatcuriouslookoforderandpurposewhichisimpartedtothemostheterogeneousthingswhenmusicsounds；andsopleasantwasthisimpressionthathewasverygladthathehadnotstoppedher，afterall。Itgrewslowlyfainter，butlasteduntilhestoodoutsidethebarrister'schambers。
　　Whenhisinterviewwiththebarristerwasover，itwastoolatetogobacktotheoffice。HissightofKatharinehadputhimqueerlyoutoftuneforadomesticevening。Whereshouldhego？TowalkthroughthestreetsofLondonuntilhecametoKatharine'shouse，tolookupatthewindowsandfancyherwithin，seemedtohimpossibleforamoment；
　　andthenherejectedtheplanalmostwithablushas，withacuriousdivisionofconsciousness，oneplucksaflowersentimentallyandthrowsitaway，withablush，whenitisactuallypicked。No，hewouldgoandseeMaryDatchet。Bythistimeshewouldbebackfromherwork。
　　ToseeRalphappearunexpectedlyinherroomthrewMaryforasecondoffherbalance。Shehadbeencleaningknivesinherlittlescullery，andwhenshehadlethiminshewentbackagain，andturnedonthecold-watertaptoitsfullestvolume，andthenturneditoffagain。
　　“Now，“shethoughttoherself，asshescrewedittight，“I'mnotgoingtoletthesesillyideascomeintomyhead……Don'tyouthinkMr。
　　Asquithdeservestobehanged？“shecalledbackintothesitting-room，andwhenshejoinedhim，dryingherhands，shebegantotellhimaboutthelatestevasiononthepartoftheGovernmentwithrespecttotheWomen'sSuffrageBill。Ralphdidnotwanttotalkaboutpolitics，buthecouldnothelprespectingMaryfortakingsuchaninterestinpublicquestions。Helookedatherassheleantforward，pokingthefire，andexpressingherselfveryclearlyinphraseswhichboredistantlythetaintoftheplatform，andhethought，“HowabsurdMarywouldthinkmeifsheknewthatIalmostmadeupmymindtowalkallthewaytoChelseainordertolookatKatharine'swindows。Shewouldn'tunderstandit，butIlikeherverymuchassheis。“
　　Forsometimetheydiscussedwhatthewomenhadbetterdo；andasRalphbecamegenuinelyinterestedinthequestion，Maryunconsciouslyletherattentionwander，andagreatdesirecameoverhertotalktoRalphaboutherownfeelings；or，atanyrate，aboutsomethingpersonal，sothatshemightseewhathefeltforher；butsheresistedthiswish。Butshecouldnotpreventhimfromfeelingherlackofinterestinwhathewassaying，andgraduallytheybothbecamesilent。
　　OnethoughtafteranothercameupinRalph'smind，buttheywereall，insomeway，connectedwithKatharine，orwithvaguefeelingsofromanceandadventuresuchassheinspired。ButhecouldnottalktoMaryaboutsuchthoughts；andhepitiedherforknowingnothingofwhathewasfeeling。“Here，“hethought，“iswherewedifferfromwomen；theyhavenosenseofromance。“
　　“Well，Mary，“hesaidatlength，“whydon'tyousaysomethingamusing？“
　　Histonewascertainlyprovoking，but，asageneralrule，Marywasnoteasilyprovoked。Thisevening，however，sherepliedrathersharply:
　　“BecauseI'vegotnothingamusingtosay，Isuppose。“
　　Ralphthoughtforamoment，andthenremarked:
　　“Youworktoohard。Idon'tmeanyourhealth，“headded，asshelaughedscornfully，“Imeanthatyouseemtometobegettingwrappedupinyourwork。“
　　“Andisthatabadthing？“sheasked，shadinghereyeswithherhand。
　　“Ithinkitis，“hereturnedabruptly。
　　“Butonlyaweekagoyouweresayingtheopposite。“Hertonewasdefiant，butshebecamecuriouslydepressed。Ralphdidnotperceiveit，andtookthisopportunityoflecturingher，andexpressinghislatestviewsupontheproperconductoflife。Shelistened，buthermainimpressionwasthathehadbeenmeetingsomeonewhohadinfluencedhim。Hewastellingherthatsheoughttoreadmore，andtoseethattherewereotherpointsofviewasdeservingofattentionasherown。Naturally，havinglastseenhimashelefttheofficeincompanywithKatharine，sheattributedthechangetoher；itwaslikelythatKatharine，onleavingthescenewhichshehadsoclearlydespised，hadpronouncedsomesuchcriticism，orsuggesteditbyherownattitude。ButsheknewthatRalphwouldneveradmitthathehadbeeninfluencedbyanybody。
　　“Youdon'treadenough，Mary，“hewassaying。“Yououghttoreadmorepoetry。“
　　ItwastruethatMary'sreadinghadbeenratherlimitedtosuchworksassheneededtoknowforthesakeofexaminations；andhertimeforreadinginLondonwasverylittle。Forsomereason，noonelikestobetoldthattheydonotreadenoughpoetry，butherresentmentwasonlyvisibleinthewayshechangedthepositionofherhands，andinthefixedlookinhereyes。Andthenshethoughttoherself，“I'mbehavingexactlyasIsaidIwouldn'tbehave，“whereuponsherelaxedallhermusclesandsaid，inherreasonableway:
　　“TellmewhatIoughttoread，then。“
　　RalphhadunconsciouslybeenirritatedbyMary，andhenowdeliveredhimselfofafewnamesofgreatpoetswhichwerethetextforadiscourseupontheimperfectionofMary'scharacterandwayoflife。
　　“Youlivewithyourinferiors，“hesaid，warmingunreasonably，asheknew，tohistext。“Andyougetintoagroovebecause，onthewhole，it'sratherapleasantgroove。Andyoutendtoforgetwhatyou'retherefor。You'vethefemininehabitofmakingmuchofdetails。Youdon'tseewhenthingsmatterandwhentheydon't。Andthat'swhat'stheruinofalltheseorganizations。That'swhytheSuffragistshaveneverdoneanythingalltheseyears。What'sthepointofdrawing-roommeetingsandbazaars？Youwanttohaveideas，Mary；getholdofsomethingbig；nevermindmakingmistakes，butdon'tniggle。Whydon'tyouthrowitallupforayear，andtravel？——seesomethingoftheworld。Don'tbecontenttolivewithhalfadozenpeopleinabackwaterallyourlife。Butyouwon't，“heconcluded。
　　“I'verathercometothatwayofthinkingmyself——aboutmyself，I
　　mean，“saidMary，surprisinghimbyheracquiescence。“Ishouldliketogosomewherefaraway。“
　　Foramomenttheywerebothsilent。Ralphthensaid:
　　“Butlookhere，Mary，youhaven'tbeentakingthisseriously，haveyou？“Hisirritationwasspent，andthedepression，whichshecouldnotkeepoutofhervoice，madehimfeelsuddenlywithremorsethathehadbeenhurtingher。
　　“Youwon'tgoaway，willyou？“heasked。Andasshesaidnothing，headded，“Ohno，don'tgoaway。“
　　“Idon'tknowexactlywhatImeantodo，“shereplied。Shehoveredonthevergeofsomediscussionofherplans，butshereceivednoencouragement。Hefellintooneofhisqueersilences，whichseemedtoMary，inspiteofallherprecautions，tohavereferencetowhatshealsocouldnotpreventherselffromthinkingabout——theirfeelingforeachotherandtheirrelationship。Shefeltthatthetwolinesofthoughtboredtheirwayinlong，paralleltunnelswhichcameverycloseindeed，butneverranintoeachother。
　　Whenhehadgone，andheleftherwithoutbreakinghissilencemorethanwasneededtowishhergoodnight，shesatonforatime，reviewingwhathehadsaid。Ifloveisadevastatingfirewhichmeltsthewholebeingintoonemountaintorrent，MarywasnomoreinlovewithDenhamthanshewasinlovewithherpokerorhertongs。Butprobablytheseextremepassionsareveryrare，andthestateofmindthusdepictedbelongstotheverylaststagesoflove，whenthepowertoresisthasbeeneatenaway，weekbyweekordaybyday。Likemostintelligentpeople，Marywassomethingofanegoist，totheextent，thatis，ofattachinggreatimportancetowhatshefelt，andshewasbynatureenoughofamoralisttoliketomakecertain，fromtimetotime，thatherfeelingswerecreditabletoher。WhenRalphlefthershethoughtoverherstateofmind，andcametotheconclusionthatitwouldbeagoodthingtolearnalanguage——sayItalianorGerman。Shethenwenttoadrawer，whichshehadtounlock，andtookfromitcertaindeeplyscoredmanuscriptpages。Shereadthemthrough，lookingupfromherreadingeverynowandthenandthinkingveryintentlyforafewsecondsaboutRalph。Shedidherbesttoverifyallthequalitiesinhimwhichgaverisetoemotionsinher；andpersuadedherselfthatsheaccountedreasonablyforthemall。Thenshelookedbackagainathermanuscript，anddecidedthattowritegrammaticalEnglishproseisthehardestthingintheworld。ButshethoughtaboutherselfagreatdealmorethanshethoughtaboutgrammaticalEnglishproseoraboutRalphDenham，anditmaythereforebedisputedwhethershewasinlove，or，ifso，towhichbranchofthefamilyherpassionbelonged。
　　CHAPTERXI
　　It'slifethatmatters，nothingbutlife——theprocessofdiscovering，theeverlastingandperpetualprocess，“saidKatharine，asshepassedunderthearchway，andsointothewidespaceofKing'sBenchWalk，“notthediscoveryitselfatall。“ShespokethelastwordslookingupatRodney'swindows，whichwereasemilucentredcolor，inherhonor，assheknew。Hehadaskedhertoteawithhim。Butshewasinamoodwhenitisalmostphysicallydisagreeabletointerruptthestrideofone'sthought，andshewalkedupanddowntwoorthreetimesunderthetreesbeforeapproachinghisstaircase。Shelikedgettingholdofsomebookwhichneitherherfatherormotherhadread，andkeepingittoherself，andgnawingitscontentsinprivacy，andponderingthemeaningwithoutsharingherthoughtswithanyone，orhavingtodecidewhetherthebookwasagoodoneorabadone。ThiseveningshehadtwistedthewordsofDostoevskytosuithermood——afatalisticmood——
　　toproclaimthattheprocessofdiscoverywaslife，andthat，presumably，thenatureofone'sgoalmatterednotatall。Shesatdownforamomentupononeoftheseats；feltherselfcarriedalongintheswirlofmanythings；decided，inhersuddenway，thatitwastimetoheaveallthisthinkingoverboard，androse，leavingafishmonger'sbasketontheseatbehindher。TwominuteslaterherrapsoundedwithauthorityuponRodney'sdoor。
　　“Well，William，“shesaid，“I'mafraidI'mlate。“
　　Itwastrue，buthewassogladtoseeherthatheforgothisannoyance。Hehadbeenoccupiedforoveranhourinmakingthingsreadyforher，andhenowhadhisrewardinseeingherlookrightandleft，assheslippedhercloakfromhershoulders，withevidentsatisfaction，althoughshesaidnothing。Hehadseenthatthefireburntwell；jam-potswereonthetable，tincoversshoneinthefender，andtheshabbycomfortoftheroomwasextreme。Hewasdressedinhisoldcrimsondressing-gown，whichwasfadedirregularly，andhadbrightnewpatchesonit，likethepalergrasswhichonefindsonliftingastone。Hemadethetea，andKatharinedrewoffhergloves，andcrossedherlegswithagesturethatwasrathermasculineinitsease。Nordidtheytalkmuchuntiltheyweresmokingcigarettesoverthefire，havingplacedtheirteacupsuponthefloorbetweenthem。
　　Theyhadnotmetsincetheyhadexchangedlettersabouttheirrelationship。Katharine'sanswertohisprotestationhadbeenshortandsensible。Halfasheetofnotepapercontainedthewholeofit，forshemerelyhadtosaythatshewasnotinlovewithhim，andsocouldnotmarryhim，buttheirfriendshipwouldcontinue，shehoped，unchanged。Shehadaddedapostscriptinwhichshestated，“Ilikeyoursonnetverymuch。“
　　SofarasWilliamwasconcerned，thisappearanceofeasewasassumed。
　　Threetimesthatafternoonhehaddressedhimselfinatail-coat，andthreetimeshehaddiscardeditforanolddressing-gown；threetimeshehadplacedhispearltie-pininposition，andthreetimeshehadremoveditagain，thelittlelooking-glassinhisroombeingthewitnessofthesechangesofmind。Thequestionwas，whichwouldKatharinepreferonthisparticularafternooninDecember？Hereadhernoteoncemore，andthepostscriptaboutthesonnetsettledthematter。Evidentlysheadmiredmostthepoetinhim；andasthis，onthewhole，agreedwithhisownopinion，hedecidedtoerr，ifanything，onthesideofshabbiness。Hisdemeanorwasalsoregulatedwithpremeditation；hespokelittle，andonlyonimpersonalmatters；
　　hewishedhertorealizethatinvisitinghimforthefirsttimealoneshewasdoingnothingremarkable，although，infact，thatwasapointaboutwhichhewasnotatallsure。
　　CertainlyKatharineseemedquiteunmovedbyanydisturbingthoughts；
　　andifhehadbeencompletelymasterofhimself，hemight，indeed，havecomplainedthatshewasatrifleabsent-minded。Theease，thefamiliarityofthesituationalonewithRodney，amongteacupsandcandles，hadmoreeffectuponherthanwasapparent。Sheaskedtolookathisbooks，andthenathispictures。ItwaswhilesheheldphotographfromtheGreekinherhandsthatsheexclaimed，impulsively，ifincongruously:
　　“Myoysters！Ihadabasket，“sheexplained，“andI'veleftitsomewhere。UncleDudleydineswithusto-night。WhatintheworldhaveIdonewiththem？“
　　Sheroseandbegantowanderabouttheroom。Williamrosealso，andstoodinfrontofthefire，muttering，“Oysters，oysters——yourbasketofoysters！“butthoughhelookedvaguelyhereandthere，asiftheoystersmightbeonthetopofthebookshelf，hiseyesreturnedalwaystoKatharine。Shedrewthecurtainandlookedoutamongthescantyleavesoftheplane-trees。
　　“Ihadthem，“shecalculated，“intheStrand；Isatonaseat。Well，nevermind，“sheconcluded，turningbackintotheroomabruptly，“I
　　daresaysomeoldcreatureisenjoyingthembythistime。“
　　“Ishouldhavethoughtthatyouneverforgotanything，“Williamremarked，astheysettleddownagain。
　　“That'spartofthemythaboutme，Iknow，“Katharinereplied。
　　“AndIwonder，“Williamproceeded，withsomecaution，“whatthetruthaboutyouis？ButIknowthissortofthingdoesn'tinterestyou，“headdedhastily，withatouchofpeevishness。
　　“No；itdoesn'tinterestmeverymuch，“sherepliedcandidly。
　　“Whatshallwetalkaboutthen？“heasked。
　　Shelookedratherwhimsicallyroundthewallsoftheroom。
　　“Howeverwestart，weendbytalkingaboutthesamething——aboutpoetry，Imean。Iwonderifyourealize，William，thatI'veneverreadevenShakespeare？It'sratherwonderfulhowI'vekeptitupalltheseyears。“
　　“You'vekeptitupfortenyearsverybeautifully，asfarasI'mconcerned，“hesaid。
　　“Tenyears？Solongasthat？“
　　“AndIdon'tthinkit'salwaysboredyou，“headded。
　　Shelookedintothefiresilently。ShecouldnotdenythatthesurfaceofherfeelingwasabsolutelyunruffledbyanythinginWilliam'scharacter；onthecontrary，shefeltcertainthatshecoulddealwithwhateverturnedup。Hegaveherpeace，inwhichshecouldthinkofthingsthatwerefarremovedfromwhattheytalkedabout。Evennow，whenhesatwithinayardofher，howeasilyhermindrangedhitherandthither！Suddenlyapicturepresenteditselfbeforeher，withoutanyeffortonherpartaspictureswill，ofherselfintheseveryrooms；shehadcomeinfromalecture，andsheheldapileofbooksinherhand，scientificbooks，andbooksaboutmathematicsandastronomywhichshehadmastered。Sheputthemdownonthetableoverthere。Itwasapicturepluckedfromherlifetwoorthreeyearshence，whenshewasmarriedtoWilliam；buthereshecheckedherselfabruptly。
　　ShecouldnotentirelyforgetWilliam'spresence，because，inspiteofhiseffortstocontrolhimself，hisnervousnesswasapparent。Onsuchoccasionshiseyesprotrudedmorethanever，andhisfacehadmorethanevertheappearanceofbeingcoveredwithathincracklingskin，throughwhicheveryflushofhisvolatilebloodshoweditselfinstantly。Bythistimehehadshapedsomanysentencesandrejectedthem，feltsomanyimpulsesandsubduedthem，thathewasauniformscarlet。
　　“Youmaysayyoudon'treadbooks，“heremarked，“but，allthesame，youknowaboutthem。Besides，whowantsyoutobelearned？Leavethattothepoordevilswho'vegotnothingbettertodo。You——you——ahem！——“
　　“Well，then，whydon'tyoureadmesomethingbeforeIgo？“saidKatharine，lookingatherwatch。
　　“Katharine，you'veonlyjustcome！Letmeseenow，whathaveIgottoshowyou？“Herose，andstirredaboutthepapersonhistable，asifindoubt；hethenpickedupamanuscript，andafterspreadingitsmoothlyuponhisknee，helookedupatKatharinesuspiciously。Hecaughthersmiling。
　　“Ibelieveyouonlyaskmetoreadoutofkindness，“heburstout。
　　“Let'sfindsomethingelsetotalkabout。Whohaveyoubeenseeing？“
　　“Idon'tgenerallyaskthingsoutofkindness，“Katharineobserved；
　　“however，ifyoudon'twanttoread，youneedn't。“
　　Williamgaveaqueersnortofexasperation，andopenedhismanuscriptoncemore，thoughhekepthiseyesuponherfaceashedidso。Nofacecouldhavebeengraverormorejudicial。
　　“Onecantrustyou，certainly，tosayunpleasantthings，“hesaid，smoothingoutthepage，clearinghisthroat，andreadinghalfastanzatohimself。“Ahem！ThePrincessislostinthewood，andshehearsthesoundofahorn。Thiswouldallbeveryprettyonthestage，butI
　　can'tgettheeffecthere。Anyhow，Sylvanoenters，accompaniedbytherestofthegentlemenofGratian'scourt。Ibeginwherehesoliloquizes。“Hejerkedhisheadandbegantoread。
　　AlthoughKatharinehadjustdisclaimedanyknowledgeofliterature，shelistenedattentively。Atleast，shelistenedtothefirsttwenty-
　　fivelinesattentively，andthenshefrowned。HerattentionwasonlyarousedagainwhenRodneyraisedhisfinger——asign，sheknew，thatthemeterwasabouttochange。
　　Histheorywasthateverymoodhasitsmeter。Hismasteryofmeterswasverygreat；and，ifthebeautyofadramadependeduponthevarietyofmeasuresinwhichthepersonagesspeak，Rodney'splaysmusthavechallengedtheworksofShakespeare。Katharine'signoranceofShakespearedidnotpreventherfromfeelingfairlycertainthatplaysshouldnotproduceasenseofchillstuporintheaudience，suchasovercameherasthelinesflowedon，sometimeslongandsometimesshort，butalwaysdeliveredwiththesameliltofvoice，whichseemedtonaileachlinefirmlyontothesamespotinthehearer'sbrain。
　　Still，shereflected，thesesortsofskillarealmostexclusivelymasculine；womenneitherpracticethemnorknowhowtovaluethem；andone'shusband'sproficiencyinthisdirectionmightlegitimatelyincreaseone'srespectforhim，sincemystificationisnobadbasisforrespect。NoonecoulddoubtthatWilliamwasascholar。ThereadingendedwiththefinishoftheAct；Katharinehadpreparedalittlespeech。
　　“Thatseemstomeextremelywellwritten，William；although，ofcourse，Idon'tknowenoughtocriticizeindetail。“
　　“Butit'stheskillthatstrikesyou——nottheemotion？“
　　“Inafragmentlikethat，ofcourse，theskillstrikesonemost。“
　　“Butperhaps——haveyoutimetolistentoonemoreshortpiece？thescenebetweenthelovers？There'ssomerealfeelinginthat，Ithink。
　　Denhamagreesthatit'sthebestthingI'vedone。“
　　“You'vereadittoRalphDenham？“Katharineinquired，withsurprise。
　　“He'sabetterjudgethanIam。Whatdidhesay？“
　　“MydearKatharine，“Rodneyexclaimed，“Idon'taskyouforcriticism，asIshouldaskascholar。IdaresaythereareonlyfivemeninEnglandwhoseopinionofmyworkmattersastrawtome。ButItrustyouwherefeelingisconcerned。IhadyouinmymindoftenwhenIwaswritingthosescenes。Ikeptaskingmyself，'NowisthisthesortofthingKatharinewouldlike？'IalwaysthinkofyouwhenI'mwriting，Katharine，evenwhenit'sthesortofthingyouwouldn'tknowabout。
　　AndI'drather——yes，IreallybelieveI'drather——youthoughtwellofmywritingthananyoneintheworld。“
　　ThiswassogenuineatributetohistrustinherthatKatharinewastouched。
　　“Youthinktoomuchofmealtogether，William，“shesaid，forgettingthatshehadnotmeanttospeakinthisway。
　　“No，Katharine，Idon't，“hereplied，replacinghismanuscriptinthedrawer。“Itdoesmegoodtothinkofyou。“
　　Soquietananswer，followedasitwasbynoexpressionoflove，butmerelybythestatementthatifshemustgohewouldtakehertotheStrand，andwould，ifshecouldwaitamoment，changehisdressing-
　　gownforacoat，movedhertothewarmestfeelingofaffectionforhimthatshehadyetexperienced。Whilehechangedinthenextroom，shestoodbythebookcase，takingdownbooksandopeningthem，butreadingnothingontheirpages。
　　ShefeltcertainthatshewouldmarryRodney。Howcouldoneavoidit？
　　Howcouldonefindfaultwithit？Hereshesighed，and，puttingthethoughtofmarriageaway，fellintoadreamstate，inwhichshebecameanotherperson，andthewholeworldseemedchanged。Beingafrequentvisitortothatworld，shecouldfindherwaythereunhesitatingly。Ifshehadtriedtoanalyzeherimpressions，shewouldhavesaidthattheredwelttherealitiesoftheappearanceswhichfigureinourworld；sodirect，powerful，andunimpededwerehersensationsthere，comparedwiththosecalledforthinactuallife。Theredweltthethingsonemighthavefelt，hadtherebeencause；theperfecthappinessofwhichherewetastethefragment；thebeautyseenhereinflyingglimpsesonly。Nodoubtmuchofthefurnitureofthisworldwasdrawndirectlyfromthepast，andevenfromtheEnglandoftheElizabethanage。Howevertheembellishmentofthisimaginaryworldmightchange，twoqualitieswereconstantinit。Itwasaplacewherefeelingswereliberatedfromtheconstraintwhichtherealworldputsuponthem；andtheprocessofawakenmentwasalwaysmarkedbyresignationandakindofstoicalacceptanceoffacts。Shemetnoacquaintancethere，asDenhamdid，miraculouslytransfigured；sheplayednoheroicpart。Buttherecertainlyshelovedsomemagnanimoushero，andastheyswepttogetheramongtheleaf-hungtreesofanunknownworld，theysharedthefeelingswhichcamefreshandfastasthewavesontheshore。Butthesandsofherliberationwererunningfast；eventhroughtheforestbranchescamesoundsofRodneymovingthingsonhisdressing-table；andKatharinewokeherselffromthisexcursionbyshuttingthecoverofthebookshewasholding，andreplacingitinthebookshelf。
　　“William，“shesaid，speakingratherfaintlyatfirst，likeonesendingavoicefromsleeptoreachtheliving。“William，“sherepeatedfirmly，“ifyoustillwantmetomarryyou，Iwill。“
　　Perhapsitwasthatnomancouldexpecttohavethemostmomentousquestionofhislifesettledinavoicesolevel，sotoneless，sodevoidofjoyorenergy。AtanyrateWilliammadenoanswer。Shewaitedstoically。Amomentlaterhesteppedbrisklyfromhisdressing-room，andobservedthatifshewantedtobuymoreoystershethoughtheknewwheretheycouldfindafishmonger'sshopstillopen。
　　Shebreatheddeeplyasighofrelief。
　　ExtractfromalettersentafewdayslaterbyMrs。Hilberytohersister-in-law，Mrs。Milvain:
　　“……Howstupidofmetoforgetthenameinmytelegram。Suchanice，rich，Englishname，too，and，inaddition，hehasallthegracesofintellect；hehasreadliterallyEVERYTHING。ItellKatharine，I
　　shallalwaysputhimonmyrightsideatdinner，soastohavehimbymewhenpeoplebegintalkingaboutcharactersinShakespeare。Theywon'tberich，butthey'llbevery，veryhappy。Iwassittinginmyroomlateonenight，feelingthatnothingnicewouldeverhappentomeagain，whenIheardKatharineoutsideinthepassage，andIthoughttomyself，'ShallIcallherin？'andthenIthoughtinthathopeless，drearywayonedoesthink，withthefiregoingoutandone'sbirthdayjustover，'WhyshouldIlaymytroublesonHER？'Butmylittleself-
　　controlhaditsreward，fornextmomentshetappedatthedoorandcamein，andsatontherug，andthoughweneitherofussaidanything，IfeltsohappyallofasecondthatIcouldn'thelpcrying，'Oh，Katharine，whenyoucometomyage，howIhopeyou'llhaveadaughter，too！'YouknowhowsilentKatharineis。Shewassosilent，forsuchalongtime，thatinmyfoolish，nervousstateIdreadedsomething，Idon'tquiteknowwhat。Andthenshetoldmehow，afterall，shehadmadeuphermind。Shehadwritten。Sheexpectedhimto-morrow。AtfirstIwasn'tgladatall。Ididn'twanthertomarryanyone；butwhenshesaid，'Itwillmakenodifference。Ishallalwayscareforyouandfathermost，'thenIsawhowselfishIwas，andItoldhershemustgivehimeverything，everything，everything！I
　　toldherIshouldbethankfultocomesecond。Butwhy，wheneverything'sturnedoutjustasonealwayshopeditwouldturnout，whythencanonedonothingbutcry，nothingbutfeeladesolateoldwomanwhoselife'sbeenafailure，andnowisnearlyover，andageissocruel？ButKatharinesaidtome，'Iamhappy。I'mveryhappy。'AndthenIthought，thoughitallseemedsodesperatelydismalatthetime，Katharinehadsaidshewashappy，andIshouldhaveason，anditwouldallturnoutsomuchmorewonderfullythanIcouldpossiblyimagine，forthoughthesermonsdon'tsayso，Idobelievetheworldismeantforustobehappyin。Shetoldmethattheywouldlivequitenearus，andseeuseveryday；andshewouldgoonwiththeLife，andweshouldfinishitaswehadmeantto。And，afterall，itwouldbefarmorehorridifshedidn'tmarry——orsupposeshemarriedsomeonewecouldn'tendure？Supposeshehadfalleninlovewithsomeonewhowasmarriedalready？
　　“Andthoughoneneverthinksanyonegoodenoughforthepeopleone'sfondof，hehasthekindest，truestinstincts，I'msure，andthoughheseemsnervousandhismannerisnotcommanding，Ionlythinkthesethingsbecauseit'sKatharine。AndnowI'vewrittenthis，itcomesovermethat，ofcourse，allthetime，Katharinehaswhathehasn't。
　　Shedoescommand，sheisn'tnervous；itcomesnaturallytohertoruleandcontrol。It'stimethatsheshouldgiveallthistosomeonewhowillneedherwhenwearen'tthere，saveinourspirits，forwhateverpeoplesay，I'msureIshallcomebacktothiswonderfulworldwhereone'sbeensohappyandsomiserable，where，evennow，IseemtoseemyselfstretchingoutmyhandsforanotherpresentfromthegreatFairyTreewhoseboughsarestillhungwithenchantingtoys，thoughtheyarerarernow，perhaps，andbetweenthebranchesoneseesnolongerthebluesky，butthestarsandthetopsofthemountains。
　　“Onedoesn'tknowanymore，doesone？Onehasn'tanyadvicetogiveone'schildren。Onecanonlyhopethattheywillhavethesamevisionandthesamepowertobelieve，withoutwhichlifewouldbesomeaningless。ThatiswhatIaskforKatharineandherhusband。“
　　CHAPTERXII
　　IsMr。Hilberyathome，orMrs。Hilbery？“Denhamasked，oftheparlor-
　　maidinChelsea，aweeklater。
　　“No，sir。ButMissHilberyisathome，“thegirlanswered。
　　Ralphhadanticipatedmanyanswers，butnotthisone，andnowitwasunexpectedlymadeplaintohimthatitwasthechanceofseeingKatharinethathadbroughthimallthewaytoChelseaonpretenceofseeingherfather。
　　Hemadesomeshowofconsideringthematter，andwastakenupstairstothedrawing-room。Asuponthatfirstoccasion，someweeksago，thedoorclosedasifitwereathousanddoorssoftlyexcludingtheworld；
　　andoncemoreRalphreceivedanimpressionofaroomfullofdeepshadows，firelight，unwaveringsilvercandleflames，andemptyspacestobecrossedbeforereachingtheroundtableinthemiddleoftheroom，withitsfrailburdenofsilvertraysandchinateacups。ButthistimeKatharinewastherebyherself；thevolumeinherhandshowedthatsheexpectednovisitors。
　　Ralphsaidsomethingabouthopingtofindherfather。
　　“Myfatherisout，“shereplied。“Butifyoucanwait，Iexpecthimsoon。“
　　Itmighthavebeenduemerelytopoliteness，butRalphfeltthatshereceivedhimalmostwithcordiality。Perhapsshewasboredbydrinkingteaandreadingabookallalone；atanyrate，shetossedthebookontoasofawithagestureofrelief。
　　“Isthatoneofthemodernswhomyoudespise？“heasked，smilingatthecarelessnessofhergesture。
　　“Yes，“shereplied。“Ithinkevenyouwoulddespisehim。“
　　“EvenI？“herepeated。“WhyevenI？“
　　“Yousaidyoulikedmodernthings；IsaidIhatedthem。“
　　Thiswasnotaveryaccuratereportoftheirconversationamongtherelics，perhaps，butRalphwasflatteredtothinkthatsherememberedanythingaboutit。
　　“OrdidIconfessthatIhatedallbooks？“shewenton，seeinghimlookupwithanairofinquiry。“Iforget——“
　　“Doyouhateallbooks？“heasked。
　　“ItwouldbeabsurdtosaythatIhateallbookswhenI'veonlyreadten，perhaps；but——'Hereshepulledherselfupshort。
　　“Well？“
　　“Yes，Idohatebooks，“shecontinued。“Whydoyouwanttobeforevertalkingaboutyourfeelings？That'swhatIcan'tmakeout。Andpoetry'sallaboutfeelings——novelsareallaboutfeelings。“
　　Shecutacakevigorouslyintoslices，andprovidingatraywithbreadandbutterforMrs。Hilbery，whowasinherroomwithacold，sherosetogoupstairs。
　　Ralphheldthedooropenforher，andthenstoodwithclaspedhandsinthemiddleoftheroom。Hiseyeswerebright，and，indeed，hescarcelyknewwhethertheybehelddreamsorrealities。Alldownthestreetandonthedoorstep，andwhilehemountedthestairs，hisdreamofKatharinepossessedhim；onthethresholdoftheroomhehaddismissedit，inordertopreventtoopainfulacollisionbetweenwhathedreamtofherandwhatshewas。Andinfiveminutesshehadfilledtheshelloftheolddreamwiththefleshoflife；lookedwithfireoutofphantomeyes。Heglancedabouthimwithbewildermentatfindinghimselfamongherchairsandtables；theyweresolid，forhegraspedthebackofthechairinwhichKatharinehadsat；andyettheywereunreal；theatmospherewasthatofadream。Hesummonedallthefacultiesofhisspirittoseizewhattheminuteshadtogivehim；andfromthedepthsofhismindthereroseuncheckedajoyfulrecognitionofthetruththathumannaturesurpasses，initsbeauty，allthatourwildestdreamsbringushintsof。
　　Katharinecameintotheroomamomentlater。Hestoodwatchinghercometowardshim，andthoughthermorebeautifulandstrangethanhisdreamofher；fortherealKatharinecouldspeakthewordswhichseemedtocrowdbehindtheforeheadandinthedepthsoftheeyes，andthecommonestsentencewouldbeflashedonbythisimmortallight。Andsheoverflowedtheedgesofthedream；heremarkedthathersoftnesswaslikethatofsomevastsnowyowl；sheworearubyonherfinger。
　　“Mymotherwantsmetotellyou，“shesaid，“thatshehopesyouhavebegunyourpoem。Shesayseveryoneoughttowritepoetry……Allmyrelationswritepoetry，“shewenton。“Ican'tbeartothinkofitsometimes——because，ofcourse，it'snoneofitanygood。Butthenoneneedn'treadit——“
　　“Youdon'tencouragemetowriteapoem，“saidRalph。
　　“Butyou'renotapoet，too，areyou？“sheinquired，turninguponhimwithalaugh。
　　“ShouldItellyouifIwere？“
　　“Yes。BecauseIthinkyouspeakthetruth，“shesaid，searchinghimforproofofthisapparently，witheyesnowalmostimpersonallydirect。Itwouldbeeasy，Ralphthought，toworshiponesofarremoved，andyetofsostraightanature；easytosubmitrecklesslytoher，withoutthoughtoffuturepain。
　　“Areyouapoet？“shedemanded。Hefeltthatherquestionhadanunexplainedweightofmeaningbehindit，asifshesoughtananswertoaquestionthatshedidnotask。
　　“No。Ihaven'twrittenanypoetryforyears，“hereplied。“Butallthesame，Idon'tagreewithyou。Ithinkit'stheonlythingworthdoing。“
　　“Whydoyousaythat？“sheasked，almostwithimpatience，tappingherspoontwoorthreetimesagainstthesideofhercup。
　　“Why？“Ralphlaidhandsonthefirstwordsthatcametomind。
　　“Because，Isuppose，itkeepsanidealalivewhichmightdieotherwise。“
　　Acuriouschangecameoverherface，asiftheflameofhermindweresubdued；andshelookedathimironicallyandwiththeexpressionwhichhehadcalledsadbefore，forwantofabetternameforit。
　　“Idon'tknowthatthere'smuchsenseinhavingideals，“shesaid。
　　“Butyouhavethem，“herepliedenergetically。“Whydowecallthemideals？It'sastupidword。Dreams，Imean——“
　　Shefollowedhiswordswithpartedlips，asthoughtoanswereagerlywhenhehaddone；butashesaid，“Dreams，Imean，“thedoorofthedrawing-roomswungopen，andsoremainedforaperceptibleinstant。
　　Theybothheldthemselvessilent，herlipsstillparted。
　　Faroff，theyheardtherustleofskirts。Thentheowneroftheskirtsappearedinthedoorway，whichshealmostfilled，nearlyconcealingthefigureofaverymuchsmallerladywhoaccompaniedher。
　　“Myaunts！“Katharinemurmured，underherbreath。Hertonehadahintoftragedyinit，butnoless，Ralphthought，thanthesituationrequired。SheaddressedthelargerladyasAuntMillicent；thesmallerwasAuntCelia，Mrs。Milvain，whohadlatelyundertakenthetaskofmarryingCyriltohiswife。Bothladies，butMrs。CoshamAuntMillicentinparticular，hadthatlookofheightened，smoothed，incarnadinedexistencewhichispropertoelderlyladiespayingcallsinLondonaboutfiveo'clockintheafternoon。PortraitsbyRomney，seenthroughglass，havesomethingoftheirpink，mellowlook，theirbloomingsoftness，asofapricotshanginguponaredwallintheafternoonsun。Mrs。Coshamwassoappareledwithhangingmuffs，chains，andswingingdraperiesthatitwasimpossibletodetecttheshapeofahumanbeinginthemassofbrownandblackwhichfilledthearm-chair。Mrs。Milvainwasamuchslighterfigure；butthesamedoubtastothepreciselinesofhercontourfilledRalph，asheregardedthem，withdismalforeboding。Whatremarkofhiswouldeverreachthesefabulousandfantasticcharacters？——fortherewassomethingfantasticallyunrealinthecuriousswayingsandnoddingsofMrs。
　　Cosham，asifherequipmentincludedalargewirespring。Hervoicehadahigh-pitched，cooingnote，whichprolongedwordsandcutthemshortuntiltheEnglishlanguageseemednolongerfitforcommonpurposes。Inamomentofnervousness，soRalphthought，Katharinehadturnedoninnumerableelectriclights。ButMrs。Coshamhadgainedimpetusperhapsherswayingmovementshadthatendinviewforsustainedspeech；andshenowaddressedRalphdeliberatelyandelaborately。
　　“IcomefromWoking，Mr。Popham。Youmaywellaskme，whyWoking？andtothatIanswer，forperhapsthehundredthtime，becauseofthesunsets。Wewentthereforthesunsets，butthatwasfive-and-twentyyearsago。Wherearethesunsetsnow？Alas！ThereisnosunsetnownearerthantheSouthCoast。“Herrichandromanticnoteswereaccompaniedbyawaveofalongwhitehand，which，whenwaved，gaveoffaflashofdiamonds，rubies，andemeralds。Ralphwonderedwhethershemoreresembledanelephant，withajeweledhead-dress，orasuperbcockatoo，balancedinsecurelyuponitsperch，andpeckingcapriciouslyatalumpofsugar。
　　“Wherearethesunsetsnow？“sherepeated。“Doyoufindsunsetsnow，Mr。Popham？“
　　“IliveatHighgate，“hereplied。
　　“AtHighgate？Yes，Highgatehasitscharms；yourUncleJohnlivedatHighgate，“shejerkedinthedirectionofKatharine。Shesankherheaduponherbreast，asifforamoment'smeditation，whichpast，shelookedupandobserved:“IdaresaythereareveryprettylanesinHighgate。Icanrecollectwalkingwithyourmother，Katharine，throughlanesblossomingwithwildhawthorn。Butwhereisthehawthornnow？
　　YourememberthatexquisitedescriptioninDeQuincey，Mr。Popham？——
　　butIforget，you，inyourgeneration，withallyouractivityandenlightenment，atwhichIcanonlymarvel“——hereshedisplayedbothherbeautifulwhitehands——“donotreadDeQuincey。YouhaveyourBelloc，yourChesterton，yourBernardShaw——whyshouldyoureadDeQuincey？“
　　“ButIdoreadDeQuincey，“Ralphprotested，“morethanBellocandChesterton，anyhow。“
　　“Indeed！“exclaimedMrs。Cosham，withagestureofsurpriseandreliefmingled。“Youare，then，a'raraavis'inyourgeneration。IamdelightedtomeetanyonewhoreadsDeQuincey。“
　　Hereshehollowedherhandintoascreen，and，leaningtowardsKatharine，inquired，inaveryaudiblewhisper，“DoesyourfriendWRITE？“
　　“Mr。Denham，“saidKatharine，withmorethanherusualclearnessandfirmness，“writesfortheReview。Heisalawyer。“
　　“Theclean-shavenlips，showingtheexpressionofthemouth！I
　　recognizethematonce。Ialwaysfeelathomewithlawyers，Mr。
　　Denham——“
　　“Theyusedtocomeaboutsomuchintheolddays，“Mrs。Milvaininterposed，thefrail，silverynotesofhervoicefallingwiththesweettoneofanoldbell。
　　“YousayyouliveatHighgate，“shecontinued。“IwonderwhetheryouhappentoknowifthereisanoldhousecalledTempestLodgestillinexistence——anoldwhitehouseinagarden？“
　　Ralphshookhishead，andshesighed。
　　“Ah，no；itmusthavebeenpulleddownbythistime，withalltheotheroldhouses。Thereweresuchprettylanesinthosedays。ThatwashowyourunclemetyourAuntEmily，youknow，“sheaddressedKatharine。“Theywalkedhomethroughthelanes。“
　　“AsprigofMayinherbonnet，“Mrs。Coshamejaculated，reminiscently。
　　“AndnextSundayhehadvioletsinhisbuttonhole。Andthatwashowweguessed。“
　　Katharinelaughed。ShelookedatRalph。Hiseyesweremeditative，andshewonderedwhathefoundinthisoldgossiptomakehimpondersocontentedly。Shefelt，shehardlyknewwhy，acuriouspityforhim。
　　“UncleJohn——yes，'poorJohn，'youalwayscalledhim。Whywasthat？“
　　sheasked，tomakethemgoontalking，which，indeed，theyneededlittleinvitationtodo。
　　“Thatwaswhathisfather，oldSirRichard，alwayscalledhim。PoorJohn，orthefoolofthefamily，“Mrs。Milvainhastenedtoinformthem。“Theotherboysweresobrilliant，andhecouldneverpasshisexaminations，sotheysenthimtoIndia——alongvoyageinthosedays，poorfellow。Youhadyourownroom，youknow，andyoudiditup。Buthewillgethisknighthoodandapension，Ibelieve，“shesaid，turningtoRalph，“onlyitisnotEngland。“
　　“No，“Mrs。Coshamconfirmedher，“itisnotEngland。InthosedayswethoughtanIndianJudgeshipaboutequaltoacounty-courtjudgeshipathome。HisHonor——aprettytitle，butstill，notatthetopofthetree。However，“shesighed，“ifyouhaveawifeandsevenchildren，andpeoplenowadaysveryquicklyforgetyourfather'sname——well，youhavetotakewhatyoucanget，“sheconcluded。
　　“AndIfancy，“Mrs。Milvainresumed，loweringhervoiceratherconfidentially，“thatJohnwouldhavedonemoreifithadn'tbeenforhiswife，yourAuntEmily。Shewasaverygoodwoman，devotedtohim，ofcourse，butshewasnotambitiousforhim，andifawifeisn'tambitiousforherhusband，especiallyinaprofessionlikethelaw，clientssoongettoknowofit。Inouryoungdays，Mr。Denham，weusedtosaythatweknewwhichofourfriendswouldbecomejudges，bylookingatthegirlstheymarried。Andsoitwas，andso，Ifancy，italwayswillbe。Idon'tthink，“sheadded，summingupthesescatteredremarks，“thatanymanisreallyhappyunlesshesucceedsinhisprofession。“
　　Mrs。Coshamapprovedofthissentimentwithmoreponderoussagacityfromhersideofthetea-table，inthefirstplacebyswayingherhead，andinthesecondbyremarking:
　　“No，menarenotthesameaswomen。IfancyAlfredTennysonspokethetruthaboutthatasaboutmanyotherthings。HowIwishhe'dlivedtowrite'ThePrince'——asequelto'ThePrincess'！IconfessI'malmosttiredofPrincesses。Wewantsomeonetoshowuswhatagoodmancanbe。WehaveLauraandBeatrice，AntigoneandCordelia，butwehavenoheroicman。Howdoyou，asapoet，accountforthat，Mr。Denham？“
　　“I'mnotapoet，“saidRalphgood-humoredly。“I'monlyasolicitor。“
　　“Butyouwrite，too？“Mrs。Coshamdemanded，afraidlestsheshouldbebalkedofherpricelessdiscovery，ayoungmantrulydevotedtoliterature。
　　“Inmysparetime，“Denhamreassuredher。