Double Harness

he had gathered from his studies: This point was that there was no appeal against facts. Nature was nature, feelings were feelings, and change was development. One th

and to whom they savoured of unorthodoxy; she had ever distrusted a scientific education. If Jeremy could have put his case in a concrete form, he would have

ng that Mrs. Hutting should hold antique, ludicrous, and (in his opinion) in the end debased views about social intercourse between the sexes-in fact (to descend to that concrete which Jeremy's soul abhorred) about girls of seventeen taking walks with young men of twenty-two. Mrs. Hutting's views on this point imposed on Jeremy proceedings

meetings between young men and young women were a modern tendency, or, anyhow, signs of one-and of a very bad one too. No ancient instances would have shaken Mrs. Hutting on this point; the train of logic was too strong. Certainly Dora never tried to shake her mother's judgment, or to break the chain. For Dora was old-fashioned too. She admitted that clandestine and spuriously accidental meetings were wrong. But sometimes the clandestine character or the spuriousness of the accident could be p

spered behind the barn, as the re

g. I should like to walk

ll never speak

his-this

other way? You know I come here. Why do

approaches. Lovers? Certainly not-or of course she would have told mamma! Accepted Jeremy? No-she liked to think that she was trifling with him. In fine, s

only girl in the place is always pretty. Dora was, at any rat

school is still possible-a finishing-school. Mrs. Hutting had brandished this weapon, conscious in her own m

ere was an awful row, and mamma said that if i

something must be

could

tle more diffi

ora, schooling her lips to primness. "You

ate but appreciative chuckle. However the school-teacher did say something to the post-mistress, whence the something came to Mrs. Hutting's ears. There was another "row," no doubt even more "awful." The finishing-school was brandished again, but, after a private consultation on finance, put aside by the rector and Mrs. Hutting. Another weapon was chosen. Mrs. Hutting dictated a note, the rector

meeting. But it was not quite of the sort which might have been anticipated. Dora's levity was gone; she played with him no more. But neither did she follow the more probable course, and, under the influence of grief and the pain of separation, give the rein to her feelings, acknowledge her love, and exchange her vows for his. The old-fashioned standards had their turn; evidently the rectory upbraidings had been very severe. Every disobedience, every trick, every broken promise rose up in judgment, and declared the sentence to

't been cru

ost-most gentle. I've come

!" He could not

-bye. And if you really care a

ay write

, you m

op me thinkin

hall pray to be able not to

have got. She wanted to immolate herself. For such views in Sibylla Jeremy had al

hat, and I won't!

old you what I must do and what you must. I made up

sudden return to rectitude is disconcerting in an accomplice. He did not know what

do. I believe you love me, and

e said. "And n

er, but her raise

his? You won't e

an't. Go

ngry too. He perceived a case of the selfishness of sp

n, good-bye," h

ot angry

, I

additional cross,

much. But I must d

furious with women as in the palmiest days of his youth, almost as

e of a hundred a year. This combination had once seemed all-sufficient. Nay, it would suffice now for true and whole-hearted love. But it was not enough to make a cruel lady repent of her cruelty, nor to convict a misguided zealot of the folly of her zeal. It was not dazzling enough for that. In an hour Jeremy threw his whole ideal of life to the winds, and decided for wealth and mundane fame-speedy wealth and speedy mundane fame (speed was essential, because Jeremy's feelings were in a hurry). Such laurels and fruits were not to be plucked in Milldean. That very night Jeremy packed a well-worn leather bag and a square deal box. He was going to London, to see Grantley and

nitting socks, and making flannel shirts, and hemming big red handkerchiefs, and picturing and wondering in her faithful old heart what that morning

ting the motives, created out of it and them a monster of insensibility, something of an inhuman selfishness, seeming the more horrible and unnatural from the unchanging, if cold, courtesy which Grantley still displayed. This image had been taking shape ever since their battle at Milldean. It had grown with the amused scorn which was on his face as he told her of the specialist's judgment, and made her see how foolish she had been, what an unnecessary fuss she had caused, how dangerous and silly it was to let one's emotions run away with one. It had defined itself yet more clearly through the months before and after the boy's birth, as Grantley developed his line of

y indignation seconding and applauding the despair of her own heart. For Blake knew the truth now-the truth as Sibylla's imaginings made it; and in vi

ut young Blake than he believed about himself, though he believed very much just now; and she would always have people all white or all black. Grantley was all black now, and Blake was very white, white as snow, while he talked of his aspirations and his love, and tempted her to leave all that bound her, and to give her life to him. He tempted well, for he offered not pleasure, but the power of doing good and bestowing happiness. Her first n

he atmosphere. So far as he himself went, indeed, he was irresistible; his frankness and his confidence were not to be denied. Trusting in the order of nature, he knew no bashfulness; trusting in himself, he

a very difficult point," remarked Grantley with a would-be thoughtfu

ested Sibylla, taking the matter more seriously, or

Blake. "What you have to do is to give her ground for changing

grossed interest. Whatever their at

berth in the City?"

perhaps you may as well ta

you know. It's n

f had retired from any active share in the work of the business. There was room for scientific aptitude in dyeing-work

od suggestion," said

u, Jeremy; and, if necessary, we'll club together, and s

e my way," Jer

. What a very short time ago, and she had been even as Jeremy, as sanguine, as

tn't mope, old cha

ing. Do you think I could s

laughed Grantley. "But don't ask for te

n I really want a thin

ry long. Grantley said ten thousand a year: a thou

t be ready to wait for it," agreed Grantley

re's any hope,"

Jeremy, but Blake marked them. They were becomin

a hope with re

so much as to wha

asonable at pr

ot travelled beyond

irming Sibylla's despair, undermining even Grantley's obstinate self-confidence; while to Blake his example, however

ocent cause and ignorant embodiment of all her perished hopes. Might not that come oftener? Might it not grow and grow till it conquered all her love, and she ended by hating because she might have loved so greatly? Horrible! Yes, but had it not nearly come to pass with one whom she had loved very greatly? It could not be called impossible, however to be loathed the idea of it might be. No, not impossible! Her husband was the child's father. Did he love him? No, she cried-she had almost persuaded herself that his indifference screened a positive dislike. And if it were not impossible, any desperate thing would be better than the

and let honour, at least,

elf-and now she was in no mood for easy self-acquittal; but there was the greater passion for intercourse of soul, for union, for devotion, for abandonment of the heart. These asked a responding heart, they asked knowledge, feelings grown to full strength, a conscious will, an intellect adult and articulate. They could be found in full only where she had thought t

found no answering love, had found no sun to bloom in, and had perished for want of warmth. Not on her head lay the blame. So far as human being can absolve human being

perious cry of her nature rang out over all of them and drowned their feebler voices. Come what might, and let the arguments be