Double Harness

were tight shut. These symptoms were due to the fact that she saw Tom Courtland approaching, in company with a woman who was certainly not Lady Harriet. Thanks to the gossip about among

own by sight and by repute. His conduct betrayed increasing recklessness. There was nothing to do but to pass him by without notice; he himself would wish nothing else and would expect nothing else. Still Mrs

tter to the Raymores. Raymore was driven to accuse himself of all kinds of faults in his bringing-up of the boy-of having been too indulgent here or too strict there-most of all, of having been so engrossed in business as not to see enough of the boy or to keep proper watch on his disposition and companions, and the way he spent his time. Kate Raymore, who even now could not get it out of her head that her boy was a paragon, was possessed by a more primitive feeling. To her the thing was a nemesis. She

m her in the waywardness of his heady youth, had come back to her. They could share holy memories of hours spent before Charley went, after forgiveness had been offered and received, and they were all drawn very close together. With these memories in their hearts they could endure, and with a confident hope look forward to, their son's future. Meanwhile they who remained were

hese feelings to. Who could better share them than the youn

why everybody ought to have children," Kate Raymore said with a rather tremulous smile. "If there

he kept her old graciousness. To Kate Raymore she seemed very fair and good to gaze on. She listened with a thoughtful gravity and the w

said Sibylla. "But-well, the

la's eyes; but she was just now engrossed in her own feelings. She went on describing family life on the true li

uch ideas in the early days of her marriage, before the accident and all that had come from it. The things Kate Raymore said were no doubt true sometimes; but they were not true for her. That was the upshot of the matter. They were not true for Grantley Imason's wife, nor for the moth

categorically imperative. But Sibylla was a stickler for ideals; they were what she dealt in, what she proposed to barter and to bargain with; she had no place in her stock for humbler wares. Ideals or nothing! And, i

hame of it. We see it then as we did not before, as we know now that others-so many others

s gracious extravagances of maternal joy and pride. For if Sibylla could not be open, neither would she play the hypocrite by parading a light-hearted enjoyment and exultation in

, sharply guessin

tley's manner is

's humour rose a

e. All through, his solicitude for both of

Why, I

. And he wasn't the least angry with me; he was only annoyed with Adam and Eve, you know. Of course he was awfully busy just then: Co

ow, Si

e like kittens-more animated and growing up quicker, you know. We h

Men are men

seem to be," a

een in the wrong all through. You believed in the wrong doctor, you wanted t

other admission-well, Grantley never

ch of a gentl

least ungentlema

a distinction; s

ery lucky woman

ay so in m

angerous sta

full and square. Her mirth, real or affected, vanished. Sh

w what you mean by th

f your husband than of anybody el

consider h

moment and then went on: "There's a question I should like to ask you, but I suppos

ttle defiance about her manner, as though she were accused, and stood on her defence

e-perfectly good f

out in a lazy murmur, and was never co

you

in an abrupt de

see most of?"

ened a little o

follow. Don't

a great dea

ave, rather, and with

That sort of thing happens

d her movement, and she stood in the middle of the room, lookin

hat sort of thing

y comes of not being appreciated, and of wanting an o

to speak plai

ear! Are you going to

oughts? You say it's-

ith long ago; and now it isn't. It's just all-all over my life, as it used to be. And I-I'm afraid again. And I'm lying again. It means so many lies, you know."

saying nothing. Christin

o be wrapped up in

ing that I didn't think I ever should tell. I love my baby-and sometimes I hate to have to see him." Her eyes were on Christine'

y-I'm not shocked to deat

It's horrible, but it's n

it's not," Ch

p on her chair; she let them down

f us for to-day?" she a

ink," answered Sibyll

to be-f

ssed anything-anything of w

Not even Harriet Co

her. How di

funny, isn't it? I'm told Tom's gett

bear to tal

ou? It's rather wholesome to reflect how other peopl

ine! Go

take care of yourself. Oh, I

armless meaning she claim

owever vexatious it might be. He flew to no tragical or final conclusion. He did not despair; but neither did he struggle. He made no advances; his pride was too wounded, and his reason too affronted for that. On the other hand he offered no provocation. The irreproachability of his manner continued; the inaccessibility of his feelings increased. He devoted his mind to his work, public and commercial; and he waited for Sibylla to come to her senses. Given h

ake him good. This idea had occurred to him quite early in their acquaintance. He too had a faculty-even a facility-for idealising. He idealised Sibylla into the image of goodness and purity, which would turn him from sin and folly by making virtue and wisdom not better (which of course they were already), but more attractive and more pleasurable. If they were made more attractive and more pleasurable, he would be eager to embrace them. Besides he had had a good deal of the alternatives, with

love, where friend gives himself unreservedly to friend, entering into every feeling, and being privy to every thought. This close and intimate connection must be established before one mind can, lever-like, raise another, and the process of reformation be begun. So much is old ground, often trodden and with no pretence of novelty about it. But much of the power of a proposition may depend not on its soundness, but on the ardour with which it is seized upon, and the conviction with which it is held-which things, again, depend on the character and temper of the believer. Sibylla's character and temper m

. Sibylla loved the child. Blake had set up his idol, but he had not yet declare

ontentment-of wonder, of amusement, of an appreciation of fun, of delight in the mock assaults and the queer noises which his mother directed at him. Sometimes he made nice, queer, gurgling noises himself, full of luxurious content, like a cat's purring, and laden with a surprise, as though all this was very new. She had infinite patience in seeking these signs of approval; half a dozen attempts would miscarry before she succeeded in tickling t

" she called to Blak

ed, and added, after a shor

compliments. She laughed gai

he talk, Mr

t he's just wonderful

hey al

scorn that Sibylla only shook

fruitful joys. Blake was sure that he was right now, sure that he wanted to be reformed, more sure than ever that wisdom and virtue were more pleasurable (as well as being better) than their opposites. A man of ready sensibility and quick feeling, he was open to the suggestion and alive to the beauty of what he saw. It seemed to him holy-and the feelings it evoked in him seemed almos

have said-in truth till the tenderness which had found a mask in the sport would conceal its face

heard her say in a whisper fu

ering may not avail against all the world? Most likely it was

la; she caught a last kiss from the little face, and then laid her baby down. Swiftly she turned round to her husband. Blake had risen, watching still-nay, more

ke. Ah, you've got th

g Blake, though he thought very lightly of him. As they shook hands, Blake's eyes travelled past him, and dwelt again on Sibylla. She stood by her child, and

e for him to go up

elf out a cup of tea. Sibylla walked across the room and

lake did not know, but turgid feelings mingled with his aspiration