ToTHOMASHARDY
PartI
I
AtthedoorofSt。George’sregistryoffice，CharlesClareWintonstrolledforwardinthewakeofthetaxi-cabthatwasbearinghisdaughterawaywith”thefiddlerfellow”shehadmarried。HissenseofdecorumforbadehiswalkingwithNurseBetty——theonlyotherwitnessofthewedding。Astoutwomaninahighlyemotionalconditionwouldhavebeenanincongruouscompaniontohisslim，uprightfigure，movingwithjustthatunexaggeratedswingandbalancebecomingtoalanceroftheoldschool，evenifhehasbeenontheretiredlistforsixteenyears。
PoorBetty！Hethoughtofherwithirritatedsympathy——sheneednothavegivenwaytotearsonthedoor-step。ShemightwellfeellostnowGypwasgone，butnotsolostashimself！Hispale-glovedhand——theonerealhandhehad，forhisrighthandhadbeenamputatedatthewrist——twistedvexedlyatthesmall，grizzlingmoustacheliftingitselffromthecornersofhisfirmlips。OnthisgreyFebruarydayheworenoovercoat；faithfultotheabsolute，almostshamefacedquietnessofthatwedding，hehadnotevendonnedblackcoatandsilkhat，butworeabluesuitandahardblackfelt。Theinstinctofasoldierandhuntingmantoexhibitnosignwhateverofemotiondidnotdeserthimthisdarkdayofhislife；buthisgrey-hazeleyeskeptcontracting，staringfiercely，contractingagain；and，atmoments，asifoverpoweredbysomedeepfeeling，theydarkenedandseemedtodrawbackinhishead。Hisfacewasnarrowandweatheredandthin-cheeked，withaclean-cutjaw，smallears，hairdarkerthanthemoustache，buttouchedatthesidewingswithgrey——thefaceofamanofaction，self-reliant，resourceful。Andhisbearingwasthatofonewhohasalwaysbeenabitofadandy，andpaidattentionto”form，”yetbeenconscioussometimesthattherewerethingsbeyond。Aman，who，preservingalltheprecisionofatype，yethadinhimastreakofsomethingthatwasnottypical。Suchoftenhavetragedyintheirpasts。
Makinghiswaytowardsthepark，heturnedintoMountStreet。
Therewasthehousestill，thoughthestreethadbeenverydifferentthen——thehousehehadpassed，upanddown，upanddowninthefog，likeaghost，thatNovemberafternoon，likeacast-outdog，insuchawful，unutterableagonyofmind，twenty-threeyearsago，whenGypwasborn。Andthentobetoldatthedoor——he，withnorighttoenter，he，lovingashebelievedmanneverlovedwoman——
tobetoldatthedoorthatSHEwasdead——deadinbearingwhatheandshealoneknewwastheirchild！Upanddowninthefog，hourafterhour，knowinghertimewasuponher；andatlasttobetoldthat！Ofallfatesthatbefallman，surelythemostawfulistolovetoomuch。
Queerthathisrouteshouldtakehimpasttheveryhouseto-day，afterthisnewbereavement！Accursedluck——thatgoutwhichhadsenthimtoWiesbaden，lastSeptember！AccursedluckthatGyphadeverseteyesonthisfellowFiorsen，withhisfatalfiddle！
CertainlynotsinceGyphadcometolivewithhim，fifteenyearsago，hadhefeltsoforlornandfitfornothing。To-morrowhewouldgetbacktoMildenhamandseewhathardridingwoulddo。
WithoutGyp——tobewithoutGyp！Afiddler！Achapwhohadneverbeenonahorseinhislife！Andwithhiscrutch-handledcaneheswitchedviciouslyattheair，asthoughcarvingamanintwo。
Hisclub，nearHydeParkCorner，hadneverseemedtohimsodesolate。Fromsheerforceofhabithewentintothecard-room。
Theafternoonhadsodarkenedthatelectriclightalreadyburned，andthereweretheusualdozenofplayersseatedamongtheshadedgleamsfallingdecorouslyondark-woodtables，onthebacksofchairs，oncardsandtumblers，thelittlegildedcoffee-cups，thepolishednailsoffingersholdingcigars。Acronychallengedhimtopiquet。Hesatdownlistless。Thatthree-leggedwhist——bridge——
hadalwaysoffendedhisfastidiousness——amangledshortcutofagame！Pokerhadsomethingblatantinit。Piquet，thoughoutoffashion，remainedforhimtheonlygameworthplaying——theonlygamewhichstillhadstyle。Heheldgoodcardsandrosethewinneroffivepoundsthathewouldwillinglyhavepaidtoescapetheboredomofthebout。Wherewouldtheybebynow？PastNewbury；
GypsittingoppositethatSwedishfellowwithhisgreenishwildcat’seyes。Somethingfurtive，andsoforeign，abouthim！A
mess——ifhewereanyjudgeofhorseorman！ThankGodhehadtiedGyp’smoneyup——everyfarthing！Andanemotionthatwasalmostjealousyswepthimatthethoughtofthefellow’sarmsroundhissoft-haired，dark-eyeddaughter——thatpretty，willowycreature，solikeinfaceandlimbtoherwhomhehadlovedsodesperately。
Eyesfollowedhimwhenheleftthecard-room，forhewasonewhoinspiredinothermenakindofadmiration——nonecouldsayexactlywhy。Manyquiteasnotedforgeneralgoodsportsmanshipattractednosuchattention。Wasit”style，”orwasitthestreakofsomethingnotquitetypical——thebrandleftonhimbythepast？
Abandoningtheclub，hewalkedslowlyalongtherailingsofPiccadillytowardshome，thathouseinBuryStreet，St。James’s，whichhadbeenhisLondonabodesincehewasquiteyoung——oneofthefewinthestreetthathadbeenleftuntouchedbythegeneralpassionforpuffingdownandbuildingup，whichhadspoiledhalfLondoninhisopinion。
Aman，moresilentthananythingonearth，withthesoft，quick，darkeyesofawoodcockandalong，greenish，knittedwaistcoat，blackcutaway，andtighttrousersstrappedoverhisboots，openedthedoor。”Ishan’tgooutagain，Markey。Mrs。Markeymustgivemesomedinner。Anything’lldo。”
Markeysignalledthathehadheard，andthosebrowneyesundereyebrowsmeetingandformingonelong，darkline，tookhismasterinfromheadtoheel。Hehadalreadynoddedlastnight，whenhiswifehadsaidthegov’norwouldtakeithard。Retiringtothebackpremises，hejerkedhisheadtowardthestreetandmadeamotionupwardwithhishand，bywhichMrs。Markey，anastutewoman，understoodthatshehadtogooutandshopbecausethegov’norwasdiningin。Whenshehadgone，MarkeysatdownoppositeBetty，Gyp’soldnurse。Thestoutwomanwasstillcryinginaquietway。
Itgavehimthefairhump，forhefeltinclinedtohowllikeadoghimself。Afterwatchingherbroad，rosy，tearfulfaceinsilenceforsomeminutes，heshookhishead，and，withagulpandatremorofhercomfortablebody，Bettydesisted。OnepaidattentiontoMarkey。
Wintonwentfirstintohisdaughter’sbedroom，andgazedatitsemptiedsilkenorder，itsdesertedsilvermirror，twistingviciouslyathislittlemoustache。Then，inhissanctum，hesatdownbeforethefire，withoutturningupthelight。Anyonelookingin，wouldhavethoughthewasasleep；butthedrowsyinfluenceofthatdeepchairandcosyfirehaddrawnhimbackintothelong-ago。
WhatunhappychancehadmadehimpassHERhouseto-day！
Somesaythereisnosuchthingasanaffinity，nocase——ofaman，atleast——madebankruptofpassionbyasinglelove。Intheory，itmaybeso；infact，therearesuchmen——neck-or-nothingmen，quietandself-contained，thelasttoexpectthatnaturewillplaythemsuchatrick，thelasttodesiresuchsurrenderofthemselves，thelasttoknowwhentheirfateisonthem。Whocouldhaveseemedtohimself，and，indeed，toothers，lesslikelythanCharlesClareWintontofalloverheadandearsinlovewhenhesteppedintotheBelvoirHuntballroomatGranthamthatDecemberevening，twenty-
fouryearsago？Akeensoldier，adandy，afirst-ratemantohounds，alreadyalmostaproverbinhisregimentforcoolnessandforasortofcourteousdisregardofwomenasamongtheminorthingsoflife——hehadstoodtherebythedoor，innohurrytodance，takingasurveywithanairthatjustdidnotgiveanimpressionof”side”becauseitwasnotatallputon。And——
behold！——SHEhadwalkedpasthim，andhisworldwaschangedforever。Wasitanillusionoflightthatmadeherwholespiritseemtoshinethroughahalf-startledglance？Oralittletrickofgait，aswaying，seductivebalanceofbody；wasitthewayherhairwavedback，orasubtlescent，asofaflower？Whatwasit？Thewifeofasquireofthoseparts，withahouseinLondon。Hername？
Itdoesn’tmatter——shehasbeenlongenoughdead。Therewasnoexcuse——notanill-treatedwoman；anordinary，humdrummarriage，ofthreeyearsstanding；nochildren。Anamiablegoodfellowofahusband，fifteenyearsolderthanherself，inclinedalreadytobeaninvalid。Noexcuse！Yet，inonemonthfromthatnight，Wintonandshewerelovers，notonlyinthoughtbutindeed。Athingsoutterlybeyond”goodform”andhissenseofwhatwashonourableandbecominginanofficerandgentlemanthatitwassimplyneveraquestionofweighingproandcon，theconshaditsocompletely。
Andyetfromthatfirstevening，hewashers，shehis。Foreachofthemtheonethoughtwashowtobewiththeother。Ifso——whydidtheynotatleastgoofftogether？Notforwantofhisbeseeching。
Andnodoubt，ifshehadsurvivedGyp’sbirth，theywouldhavegone。Buttofacetheprospectofruiningtwomen，asitlookedtoher，hadtillthenbeentoomuchforthatsoft-heartedcreature。
Deathstilledherstrugglebeforeitwasdecided。Therearewomeninwhomutterdevotioncanstillgohandinhandwithadoubtingsoul。Sucharegenerallythemostfascinating；forthepowerofhardandpromptdecisionrobswomenofmystery，ofthesubtleatmosphereofchangeandchance。Thoughshehadbutonepartinfourofforeignblood，shewasnotatallEnglish。ButWintonwasEnglishtohisback-bone，Englishinhissenseofform，andinthatcuriousstreakofwhole-hearteddesperationthatwillbreakformtosmithereensinonedepartmentandleaveituntouchedineveryotherofitsowner’slife。TohavecalledWintona”crank”wouldneverhaveoccurredtoanyone——hishairwasalwaysperfectlyparted；hisbootsglowed；hewashardandreticent，acceptingandobservingeverycanonofwell-bredexistence。Yet，inthat，hisoneinfatuation，hewasaslosttotheworldanditsopinionasthelongest-hairedlentil-eaterofusall。Thoughatanymomentduringthatoneyearoftheirlovehewouldhaveriskedhislifeandsacrificedhiscareerforawholedayinhercompany，henever，bywordorlook，compromisedher。Hehadcarriedhispunctiliousobservanceofher”honour”toapointmorebitterthandeath，consenting，even，tohercoveringupthetracksoftheirchild’scoming。Payingthatgambler’sdebtwasbyfarthebravestdeedofhislife，andevennowitsmemoryfestered。
Tothisveryroomhehadcomebackafterhearingshewasdead；thisveryroomwhichhehadrefurnishedtohertaste，sothatevennow，withitssatinwoodchairs，littledaintyJacobeanbureau，shadedoldbrasscandelabra，divan，itstillhadanairexotictobachelordom。There，onthetable，hadbeenaletterrecallinghimtohisregiment，orderedonactiveservice。Ifhehadrealizedwhathewouldgothroughbeforehehadthechanceoftryingtolosehislifeoutthere，hewouldundoubtedlyhavetakenthatlife，sittinginthisverychairbeforethefire——thechairsacredtoherandmemory。Hehadnottheluckhewishedforinthatlittlewar——
menwhodon’tcarewhethertheyliveordieseldomhave。Hesecurednothingbutdistinction。Whenitwasover，hewenton，withafewmorelinesinhisface，afewmorewrinklesinhisheart，soldiering，shootingtigers，pig-sticking，playingpolo，ridingtohoundsharderthanever；givingnothingawaytotheworld；winningsteadilythecurious，uneasyadmirationthatmenfeelforthosewhocombinerecklessdaringwithanice-coolmanner。
Sincehewaslessofatalkereventhanmostofhiskind，andhadneverinhislifetalkedofwomen，hedidnotgainthereputationofawoman-hater，thoughhesomanifestlyavoidedthem。Aftersixyears’serviceinIndiaandEgypt，helosthisrighthandinachargeagainstdervishes，andhad，perforce，toretire，withtherankofmajor，agedthirty-four。Foralongtimehehadhatedtheverythoughtofthechild——hischild，ingivingbirthtowhomthewomanhelovedhaddied。Thencameacuriouschangeoffeeling；
andforthreeyearsbeforehisreturntoEngland，hehadbeeninthehabitofsendinghomeoddsandendspickedupinthebazaars，toserveastoys。Inreturn，hehadreceived，twiceannuallyatleast，aletterfromthemanwhothoughthimselfGyp’sfather。
Theselettershereadandanswered。Thesquirewaslikable，andhadbeenfondofHER；andthoughneveroncehaditseemedpossibletoWintontohaveactedotherwisethanhedid，hehadallthetimepreservedajustandformalsenseofthewronghehaddonethisman。Hedidnotexperienceremorse，buthehadalwaysanirksomefeelingasofadebtunpaid，mitigatedbyknowledgethatnoonehadeversuspected，anddiscountedbymemoryoftheawfultorturehehadenduredtomakesureagainstsuspicion。
When，plusdistinctionandminushishand，hewasatlastbackinEngland，thesquirehadcometoseehim。ThepoormanwasfailingfastfromBright’sdisease。WintonenteredagainthathouseinMountStreetwithanemotion，tostiflewhichrequiredmorecouragethananycavalrycharge。Butonewhoseheart，ashewouldhaveputit，is”intherightplace”doesnotindulgethequaveringsofhisnerves，andhefacedthoseroomswherehehadlastseenher，facedthatlonelylittledinnerwithherhusband，withoutsignoffeeling。HedidnotseelittleGhita，orGyp，asshehadnicknamedherself，forshewasalreadyinherbed；anditwasawholemonthbeforehebroughthimselftogothereatanhourwhenhecouldseethechildifhewould。Thefactis，hewasafraid。Whatwouldthesightofthislittlecreaturestirinhim？WhenBetty，thenurse，broughtherintoseethesoldiergentlemanwith”theleatherhand，”whohadsentherthosefunnytoys，shestoodcalmlystaringwithherlarge，deep-browneyes。Beingseven，herlittlebrown-
velvetfrockbarelyreachedthekneesofherthin，brown-stockingedlegsplantedonejustinfrontoftheother，asmightbethelegsofasmallbrownbird；theovalofhergravelywonderingfacewaswarmcreamcolourwithoutredinit，exceptthatofthelips，whichwereneitherfullnorthin，andhadalittletuck，thetiniestpossibledimpleatonecorner。Herhairofwarmdarkbrownhadbeenspeciallybrushedandtiedwithanarrowredribbonbackfromherforehead，whichwasbroadandratherlow，andthisaddedtohergravity。Hereyebrowswerethinanddarkandperfectlyarched；herlittlenosewasperfectlystraight，herlittlechininperfectbalancebetweenroundandpoint。ShestoodandstaredtillWintonsmiled。Thenthegravityofherfacebroke，herlipsparted，hereyesseemedtoflyalittle。AndWinton’sheartturnedoverwithinhim——shewastheverychildofherthathehadlost！Andhesaid，inavoicethatseemedtohimtotremble:”Well，Gyp？””Thankyouformytoys；Ilikethem。”
Heheldouthishand，andshegravelyputhersmallhandintoit。
Asenseofsolace，asifsomeonehadslippedafingerinandsmoothedhisheart，cameoverWinton。Gently，soasnottostartleher，heraisedherhandalittle，bent，andkissedit。Itmayhavebeenfromhisinstantrecognitionthatherewasoneassensitiveaschildcouldbe，orthewaymanysoldiersacquirefromdealingwiththeirmen——thosesimple，shrewdchildren——orsomedeeperinstinctivesenseofownershipbetweenthem；whateveritwas，fromthatmoment，Gypconceivedforhimarushingadmiration，oneofthoseheadlongaffectionschildrenwillsometimestakeforthemostunlikelypersons。
Heusedtogothereatanhourwhenheknewthesquirewouldbeasleep，betweentwoandfive。AfterhehadbeenwithGyp，walkinginthepark，ridingwithherintheRow，oronwetdayssittinginherlonelynurserytellingstories，whilestoutBettylookedonhalfhypnotized，aratherqueeranddoubtinglookonhercomfortableface——aftersuchhours，hefounditdifficulttogotothesquire’sstudyandsitoppositehim，smoking。Thoseinterviewsremindedhimtoomuchofpastdays，whenhehadkeptsuchdesperatecheckonhimself——toomuchoftheoldinwardchafingagainsttheotherman’slegalownership——toomuchofthedebtowing。ButWintonwastriple-proofedagainstbetrayaloffeeling。Thesquirewelcomedhimeagerly，sawnothing，feltnothing，wasgratefulforhisgoodnesstothechild。Well，well！Hehaddiedinthefollowingspring。AndWintonfoundthathehadbeenmadeGyp’sguardianandtrustee。Sincehiswife’sdeath，thesquirehadmuddledhisaffairs，hisestatewasheavilymortgaged；butWintonacceptedthepositionwithanalmostsavagesatisfaction，and，fromthatmoment，schemeddeeplytogetGypalltohimself。TheMountStreethousewassold；theLincolnshireplacelet。SheandNurseBettywereinstalledathisownhunting-box，Mildenham。Inthisefforttogetherawayfromallthesquire’srelations，hedidnotscrupletoemploytotheutmostthepowerheundoubtedlyhadofmakingpeoplefeelhimunapproachable。Hewasneverimpolitetoanyofthem；hesimplyfrozethemout。Havingplentyofmoneyhimself，hismotivescouldnotbecalledinquestion。InoneyearhehadisolatedherfromallexceptstoutBetty。Hehadnoqualms，forGypwasnomorehappyawayfromhimthanhefromher。Hehadbutonebadhalf-hour。Itcamewhenhehadatlastdecidedthatsheshouldbecalledbyhisname，ifnotlegallyatleastbycustom，roundMildenham。ItwastoMarkeyhehadgiventheorderthatGypwastobelittleMissWintonforthefuture。Whenhecameinfromhuntingthatday，Bettywaswaitinginhisstudy。Shestoodinthecentreoftheemptiestpartofthatratherdingyroom，asfaraspossibleawayfromanygoodorchattel。Howlongshehadbeenstandingthere，heavenonlyknew；butherround，rosyfacewasconfusedbetweenaweandresolution，andshehadmadeasadmessofherwhiteapron。HerblueeyesmetWinton’swithasortofdesperation。”AboutwhatMarkeytoldme，sir。Myoldmasterwouldn’thavelikedit，sir。”
Touchedontherawbythisreminderthatbeforetheworldhehadbeennothingtothelovedone，thatbeforetheworldthesquire，whohadbeennothingtoher，hadbeeneverything，Wintonsaidicily:”Indeed！Youwillbegoodenoughtocomplywithmywish，allthesame。”
Thestoutwoman’sfacegrewveryred。Sheburstout，breathless:”Yes，sir；butI’veseenwhatI’veseen。Ineversaidanything，butI’vegoteyes。IfMissGyp’stotakeyourname，sir，thentongues’llwag，andmydear，deadmistress——”
Butatthelookonhisfaceshestopped，withhermouthopen。”Youwillbekindenoughtokeepyourthoughtstoyourself。Ifanywordordeedofyoursgivestheslightestexcusefortalk——yougo。
Understandme，yougo，andyouneverseeGypagain！InthemeantimeyouwilldowhatIask。Gypismyadopteddaughter。”
Shehadalwaysbeenalittleafraidofhim，butshehadneverseenthatlookinhiseyesorheardhimspeakinthatvoice。Andshebentherfullmoonofafaceandwent，withheraproncrumpledasapronhadneverbeen，andtearsinhereyes。AndWinton，atthewindow，watchingthedarknessgather，theleavesflyingbyonasou’-westerlywind，dranktothedregsacupofbittertriumph。Hehadneverhadtherighttothatdead，forever-lovedmotherofhischild。Hemeanttohavethechild。Iftonguesmustwag，letthem！
Thiswasadefeatofallhispreviousprecaution，adeepvictoryofnaturalinstinct。Andhiseyesnarrowedandstaredintothedarkness。
II
InspiteofhisvictoryoverallhumanrivalsintheheartofGyp，Wintonhadarivalwhosestrengthhefullyrealizedperhapsforthefirsttimenowthatshewasgone，andhe，beforethefire，wasbroodingoverherdepartureandthepast。Notlikelythatoneofhisdecisivetype，whoselifehadsolongbeenboundupwithswordsandhorses，wouldgraspwhatmusicmightmeantoalittlegirl。
Suchones，heknew，requiredtobetaughtscales，and”InaCottagenearaWood”withothermelodies。Hetookcarenottogowithinsoundofthem，sothathehadnoconceptionoftheaviditywithwhichGyphadmoppedupall，andmorethanall，hergovernesscouldteachher。HewasblindtotherapturewithwhichshelistenedtoanystraymusicthatcameitswaytoMildenham——tocarolsintheChristmasdark，tocertainhymns，andonespecial”NuncDimittis”
inthevillagechurch，attendedwithahopelessregularity；tothehornofthehunterfaroutinthequivering，drippingcoverts；eventoMarkey’swhistling，whichwasfullandstrangelysweet。
Hecouldshareherloveofdogsandhorses，takeananxiousinterestinherwayofcatchingbumblebeesinthehollowofherhandandputtingthemtohersmall，delicateearstohearthembuzz，sympathizewithhercontinualravagesamongtheflowerbeds，intheold-fashionedgarden，fulloflilacsandlaburnumsinspring，pinks，roses，cornflowersinsummer，dahliasandsunflowersinautumn，andalwaysalittleneglectedandovergrown，alittlesqueezedin，andelbowedbythemoreimportantsurroundingpaddocks。Hecouldsympathizewithherattemptstodrawhisattentiontothesongofbirds；butitwassimplynotinhimtounderstandhowshelovedandcravedformusic。Shewasacloudylittlecreature，upanddowninmood——ratherlikeabrownladyspanielthatshehad，nowgayasabutterfly，nowbroodingasnight。Anytouchofharshnessshetooktoheartfearfully。Shewasthestrangestcompoundofprideandsell-disparagement；thequalitiesseemedmixedinhersodeeplythatneithershenoranyoneknewofwhichhercloudyfitsweretheresult。Beingsosensitive，she”fancied”thingsterribly。Thingsthatothersdidtoher，andthoughtnothingof，oftenseemedtoherconclusiveevidencethatshewasnotlovedbyanybody，whichwasdreadfullyunjust，becauseshewantedtoloveeveryone——nearly。Thensuddenlyshewouldfeel:”Iftheydon’tloveme，Idon’tcare。Idon’twantanythingofanybody！”Presently，allwouldblowawayjustlikeacloud，andshewouldloveandbegay，untilsomethingfresh，perhapsnotatallmeanttohurther，wouldagainhurtherhorribly。Inreality，thewholehouseholdlovedandadmiredher。
Butshewasoneofthosedelicate-treadingbeings，bornwithaskintoofew，who——andespeciallyinchildhood——sufferfromthemselvesinaworldbornwithaskintoomany。
ToWinton’sextremedelight，shetooktoridingasaducktowater，andknewnofearonhorseback。Shehadthebestgovernesshecouldgether，thedaughterofanadmiral，and，therefore，indistressedcircumstances；andlateron，atutorforhermusic，whocametwiceaweekallthewayfromLondon——asardonicmanwhocherishedforherevenmoresecretadmirationthansheforhim。Infact，everymalethingfellinlovewithheratleastalittle。Unlikemostgirls，sheneverhadanepochofawkwardplainness，butgrewlikeaflower，evenly，steadily。Wintonoftengazedatherwithasortofintoxication；theturnofherhead，thewaythoseperfectlyshaped，wonderfullyclearbrowneyeswould”fly，”thesetofherstraight，roundneck，theveryshapingofherlimbswereallsuchpoignantremindersofwhathehadsoloved。Andyet，forallthatlikenesstohermother，therewasadifference，bothinformandcharacter。
Gyphad，asitwere，anextratouchof”breeding，”morechisellinginbody，morefastidiousnessinsoul，alittlemorepoise，alittlemoresheergrace；inmood，morevariance，inmind，moreclarityand，mixedwithhersweetness，adistinctspiceofscepticismwhichhermotherhadlacked。
Inmoderntimestherearenolonger”toasts，”orshewouldhavebeenonewithboththehunts。Thoughdelicateinbuild，shewasnotfrail，andwhenherbloodwasupwould”go”allday，andcomeinsobone-tiredthatshewoulddropontothetigerskinbeforethefire，ratherthanfacethestairs。LifeatMildenhamwaslonely，saveforWinton’shuntingcronies，andtheybutfew，forhisspiritualdandyismdidnotgladlysuffertheaveragecountrygentlemanandhisfrigidcourtesyfrightenedwomen。
Besides，asBettyhadforeseen，tonguesdidwag——thosetonguesofthecountryside，avidofanythingthatmightspicethetediumofdulllivesandbrains。And，thoughnobreathofgossipcametoWinton’sears，nowomenvisitedatMildenham。Saveforthefriendlycasualacquaintanceshipsofchurchyard，hunting-field，andlocalrace-meetings，Gypgrewupknowinghardlyanyofherownsex。
Thisdearthdevelopedherreserve，keptherbackwardinsex-
perception，gaveherafaint，unconsciouscontemptformen——
creaturesalwaysatthebeckandcallofhersmile，andsoeasilydisquietedbyalittlefrown——gaveheralsoasecretyearningforcompanionsofherowngender。Anygirlorwomanthatshedidchancetomeetalwaystookafancytoher，becauseshewassonicetothem，whichmadethetransitorynatureofthesefriendshipstantalizing。Shewasincapableofjealousiesorbackbiting。Letmenbewareofsuch——thereiscoiledintheirfibreasecretfascination！
Gyp’smoralandspiritualgrowthwasnotthesortofsubjectthatWintoncouldpaymuchattentionto。Itwaspre-eminentlyamatteronedidnottalkabout。Outwardforms，suchasgoingtochurch，shouldbepreserved；mannersshouldbetaughtherbyhisownexampleasmuchaspossible；beyondthis，naturemustlookafterthings。Hisviewhadmuchrealwisdom。Shewasaquickandvoraciousreader，badatrememberingwhatsheread；andthoughshehadsoondevouredallthebooksinWinton’smeagrelibrary，includingByron，Whyte-Melville，andHumboldt’s”Cosmos，”theyhadnotlefttoomuchonhermind。Theattemptsofherlittlegovernesstoimpartreligionweresomewhataridofresult，andtheinterestofthevicar，Gyp，withherinstinctivespiceofscepticismsoonputintothesamecategoryastheinterestofalltheothermalessheknew。Shefeltthatheenjoyedcallingher”mydear”andpattinghershoulder，andthatthisenjoymentwasenoughrewardforhisexertions。
Tuckedawayinthatlittleolddarkmanorhouse，whosestablesalonewereuptodate——threehoursfromLondon，andsomethirtymilesfromTheWash，itmustbeconfessedthatherupbringinglackedmodernity。Abouttwiceayear，WintontookheruptotowntostaywithhisunmarriedsisterRosamundinCurzonStreet。Thoseweeks，iftheydidnothingelse，increasedhernaturaltasteforcharmingclothes，fortifiedherteeth，andfosteredherpassionformusicandthetheatre。Butthetwomainnourishmentsofthemoderngirl——discussionandgames——shelackedutterly。Moreover，thoseyearsofherlifefromfifteentonineteenwerebeforethesocialresurrectionof1906，andtheworldstillcrawledlikeawinterflyonawindow-pane。WintonwasaTory，AuntRosamundaTory，everybodyroundheraTory。Theonlyspiritualdevelopmentsheunderwentallthoseyearsofhergirlhoodwasthroughherheadlongloveforherfather。Afterall，wasthereanyotherwayinwhichshecouldreallyhavedeveloped？Onlylovemakesfruitfulthesoul。Thesenseofformthatbothhadinsuchhighdegreepreventedmuchdemonstration；buttobewithhim，dothingsforhim，toadmire，andcredithimwithperfection；and，sinceshecouldnotexactlywearthesameclothesorspeakinthesameclipped，quiet，decisivevoice，todisliketheclothesandvoicesofothermen——allthiswasprecioustoherbeyondeverything。Ifsheinheritedfromhimthatfastidioussenseofform，shealsoinheritedhiscapacityforputtingallhereggsinonebasket。Andsincehercompanyalonegavehimrealhappiness，thecurrentofloveflowedoverherheartallthetime。Thoughsheneverrealizedit，abundantloveFORsomebodywasasnecessarytoheraswaterrunningupthestemsofflowers，abundantloveFROMsomebodyasneedfulassunshineontheirpetals。AndWinton’ssomewhatfrequentlittlerunstotown，toNewmarket，orwherenot，werealwaysmarkedinherbyafallofthebarometer，whichrecoveredashisreturngrewnear。
Onepartofhereducation，atallevents，wasnotneglected——
cultivationofanhabitualsympathywithherpoorerneighbours。
Withoutconcerninghimselfintheleastwithproblemsofsociology，Wintonhadbynatureanopenhandandheartforcottagers，andabominatedinterferencewiththeirlives。AndsoitcameaboutthatGyp，who，bynaturealsoneversetfootanywherewithoutinvitation，wasalwayshearingthewords:”Stepin，MissGyp”；”Stepin，andsitdown，lovey，”andagoodmanywordsbesidesfromeventheboldestandbaddestcharacters。Thereisnothinglikeasoftandprettyfaceandsympatheticlisteningforseducingtheheartsof”thepeople。”
SopassedtheelevenyearstillshewasnineteenandWintonforty-
six。Then，underthewingofherlittlegoverness，shewenttothehunt-ball。Shehadrevoltedagainstappearinga”fluffymiss，”
wantingtobeconsideredatoncefull-fledged；sothatherdress，perfectinfit，wasnotwhitebutpalestmaize-colour，asifshehadalreadybeentodances。ShehadallWinton’sdandyism，andjustsomuchmoreaswasappropriatetohersex。Withherdarkhair，wonderfullyfluffedandcoiled，wavingacrossherforehead，herneckbareforthefirsttime，hereyesreally”flying，”andademeanourperfectlycool——asthoughsheknewthatlightandmovement，covetouslooks，softspeeches，andadmirationwereherbirthright——shewasmorebeautifulthanevenWintonhadthoughther。Atherbreastsheworesomesprigsofyellowjasmineprocuredbyhimfromtown——aflowerofwhosescentshewasveryfond，andthathehadneverseenworninballrooms。Thatswaying，delicatecreature，warmedbyexcitement，remindedhim，ineverymovementandbyeveryglanceofhereyes，ofherwhomhehadfirstmetatjustsuchaballasthis。Andbythecarriageofhishead，thetwistofhislittlemoustache，heconveyedtotheworldthepridehewasfeeling。
ThateveningheldmanysensationsforGyp——somedelightful，oneconfused，oneunpleasant。Sherevelledinhersuccess。Admirationwasverydeartoher。Shepassionatelyenjoyeddancing，lovedfeelingthatshewasdancingwellandgivingpleasure。But，twiceover，shesentawayherpartners，smittenwithcompassionforherlittlegovernesssittingthereagainstthewall——allalone，withnoonetotakenoticeofher，becauseshewaselderly，androundabout，poordarling！And，tothatloyalperson’shorror，sheinsistedonsittingbesideherallthroughtwodances。NorwouldshegointosupperwithanyonebutWinton。Returningtotheballroomonhisarm，sheoverheardanelderlywomansay:”Oh，don’tyouknow？OfcoursehereallyISherfather！”andanelderlymananswer:”Ah，thataccountsforit——quiteso！”Withthoseeyesatthebackoftheheadwhichtheverysensitivepossess，shecouldseetheirinquisitive，cold，slightlymaliciousglances，andknewtheywerespeakingofher。Andjustthenherpartnercameforher。”ReallyISherfather！”ThewordsmeantTOOmuchtobegraspedthiseveningoffullsensations。Theyleftalittlebruisesomewhere，butsoftenedandanointed，justasenseofconfusionatthebackofhermind。Andverysooncamethatothersensation，sodisillusioning，thatallelsewascrowdedout。Itwasafteradance——asplendiddancewithagood-lookingmanquitetwiceherage。Theyweresittingbehindsomepalms，hemurmuringinhismellow，flownvoiceadmirationforherdress，whensuddenlyhebenthisflushedfaceandkissedherbarearmabovetheelbow。Ifhehadhitherhecouldnothaveastonishedorhurthermore。Itseemedtoherinnocencethathewouldneverhavedonesuchathingifshehadnotsaidsomethingdreadfultoencouragehim。Withoutawordshegotup，gazedathimamomentwitheyesdarkfrompain，shivered，andslippedaway。ShewentstraighttoWinton。Fromherface，allclosedup，tightenedlips，andthefamiliarlittledroopattheircorners，heknewsomethingdirehadhappened，andhiseyesbodedillforthepersonwhohadhurther；butshewouldsaynothingexceptthatshewastiredandwantedtogohome。Andso，withthelittlefaithfulgoverness，who，havingbeensilentperforcenearlyalltheevening，wasnowfullofconversation，theydroveoutintothefrostynight。Wintonsatbesidethechauffeur，smokingviciously，hisfurcollarturnedupoverhisears，hiseyesstabbingthedarkness，underhisround，low-drawnfurcap。Whohaddaredupsethisdarling？And，withinthecar，thelittlegovernesschatteredsoftly，andGyp，shroudedinlace，inherdarkcornersatsilent，seeingnothingbutthevisionofthatinsult。Sadendtoalovelynight！
Shelayawakelonghoursinthedarkness，whileasortofcoherencewasforminginhermind。Thosewords:”ReallyISherfather！”andthatman’skissingofherbarearmwereasortofrevelationofsex-mystery，hardeningtheconsciousnessthattherewassomethingatthebackofherlife。Achildsosensitivehadnot，ofcourse，quitefailedtofeelthespiritualdraughtsaroundher；butinstinctivelyshehadrecoiledfrommoredefiniteperceptions。ThetimebeforeWintoncamewasallsofaint——Betty，toys，shortglimpsesofakind，invalidishmancalled”Papa。”Asinthatwordtherewasnodepthcomparedwiththeword”Dad”bestowedonWinton，sotherehadbeennodepthinherfeelingstowardsthesquire。
Whenagirlhasnomemoryofhermother，howdarkaremanythings！
None，exceptBetty，hadevertalkedofhermother。TherewasnothingsacredinGyp’sassociations，nofaithstobebrokenbyanyknowledgethatmightcometoher；isolatedfromothergirls，shehadlittlerealisationevenoftheconventions。Still，shesufferedhorribly，lyingthereinthedark——frombewilderment，fromthornsdraggedoverherskin，ratherthanfromastabintheheart。
Theknowledgeofsomethingaboutherconspicuous，doubtful，provocativeofinsult，asshethought，grievouslyhurtherdelicacy。Thosefewwakefulhoursmadeaheavymark。Shefellasleepatlast，stillallinconfusion，andwokeupwithapassionatedesiretoKNOW。Allthatmorningshesatatherpiano，playing，refusingtogoout，frigidtoBettyandthelittlegoverness，tilltheformerwasreducedtotearsandthelattertoWordsworth。AfterteashewenttoWinton’sstudy，thatdingylittleroomwhereheneverstudiedanything，withleatherchairsandbookswhich——except”Mr。Jorrocks，”Byron，thoseonthecareofhorses，andthenovelsofWhyte-Melville——wereneverread；withprintsofsuperequinecelebrities，hissword，andphotographsofGypandofbrotherofficersonthewalls。Twobrightspotstherewereindeed——thefire，andthelittlebowlthatGypalwayskeptfilledwithflowers。
Whenshecameglidinginlikethat，aslender，roundedfigure，hercreamy，dark-eyed，ovalfaceallcloudy，sheseemedtoWintontohavegrownupofasudden。Hehadknownalldaythatsomethingwascoming，andhadbeencudgellinghisbrainsfinely。Fromthefervourofhisloveforher，hefeltananxietythatwasalmostfear。Whatcouldhavehappenedlastnight——thatfirstnightofherentranceintosociety——meddlesome，gossipingsociety！Shesliddowntotheflooragainsthisknee。Hecouldnotseeherface，couldnoteventouchher；forshehadsettleddownonhisrightside。Hemasteredhistremorsandsaid:”Well，Gyp——tired？””No。””Alittlebit？””No。””Wasituptowhatyouthought，lastnight？””Yes。”
Thelogshissedandcrackled；thelongflamesruffledinthechimney-draught；thewindroaredoutside——then，sosuddenlythatittookhisbreathaway:”Dad，areyoureallyandtrulymyfather？”
Whenthatwhichonehasalwaysknownmighthappenatlastdoeshappen，howlittleoneisprepared！Inthefewsecondsbeforeananswerthatcouldinnowaybeevaded，Wintonhadtimeforatumultofreflection。Alessresolutecharacterwouldhavebeencaughtbyuttermentalblankness，thenflungitselfinpanicon”Yes”or”No。”ButWintonwasincapableoflosinghishead；hewouldnotanswerwithouthavingfacedtheconsequencesofhisreply。Tobeherfatherwasthemostwarmingthinginhislife；butifheavowedit，howfarwouldheinjureherloveforhim？Whatdidagirlknow？Howmakeherunderstand？Whatwouldherfeelingbeaboutherdeadmother？Howwouldthatdeadlovedonefeel？Whatwouldshehavewished？
Itwasacruelmoment。Andthegirl，pressedagainsthisknee，withfacehidden，gavehimnohelp。Impossibletokeepitfromher，nowthatherinstinctwasroused！Silence，too，wouldanswerforhim。Andclenchinghishandonthearmofhischair，hesaid:”Yes，Gyp；yourmotherandIlovedeachother。”Hefeltaquivergothroughher，wouldhavegivenmuchtoseeherface。What，evennow，didsheunderstand？Well，itmustbegonethroughwith，andhesaid:”Whatmadeyouask？”
Sheshookherheadandmurmured:”I’mglad。”
Grief，shock，evensurprisewouldhaverousedallhisloyaltytothedead，alltheoldstubbornbitterness，andhewouldhavefrozenupagainsther。Butthisacquiescentmurmurmadehimlongtosmoothitdown。”Nobodyhaseverknown。Shediedwhenyouwereborn。Itwasafearfulgrieftome。Ifyou’veheardanything，it’sjustgossip，becauseyougobymyname。Yourmotherwasnevertalkedabout。
Butit’sbestyoushouldknow，nowyou’regrownup。Peopledon’toftenloveassheandIloved。Youneedn’tbeashamed。”
Shehadnotmoved，andherfacewasstillturnedfromhim。Shesaidquietly:”I’mnotashamed。AmIverylikeher？””Yes；morethanIcouldeverhavehoped。”
Verylowshesaid:”Thenyoudon’tlovemeformyself？”
Wintonwasbutdimlyconsciousofhowthatquestionrevealedhernature，itspowerofpiercinginstinctivelytotheheartofthings，itssensitivepride，anddemandforutterandexclusivelove。Tothingsthatgotoodeep，oneopposesthebulwarkofobtuseness。
And，smiling，hesimplysaid:”Whatdoyouthink？”
Then，tohisdismay，heperceivedthatshewascrying——strugglingagainstitsothathershouldershookagainsthisknee。Hehadhardlyeverknownhercry，notinallthedisastersofunstableyouth，andshehadreceivedherfullmeedofknocksandtumbles。
Hecouldonlystrokethatshoulder，andsay:”Don’tcry，Gyp；don’tcry！”
Sheceasedassuddenlyasshehadbegun，gotup，and，beforehetoocouldrise，wasgone。
Thatevening，atdinner，shewasjustasusual。Hecouldnotdetecttheslightestdifferenceinhervoiceormanner，orinhergood-nightkiss。Andsoamomentthathehaddreadedforyearswasover，leavingonlythefaintshamewhichfollowsabreachofreticenceonthespiritsofthosewhoworshipit。Whiletheoldsecrethadbeenquiteundisclosed，ithadnottroubledhim。
Disclosed，ithurthim。ButGyp，inthosetwenty-fourhours，hadleftchildhoodbehindforgood；herfeelingtowardmenhadhardened。Ifshedidnothurtthemalittle，theywouldhurther！
Thesex-instincthadcometolife。ToWintonshegaveasmuchloveasever，evenmore，perhaps；butthedewwasoff。
III
Thenexttwoyearsweremuchlesssolitary，passedinmoreorlessconstantgaiety。HisconfessionspurredWintonontothefortificationofhisdaughter’sposition。Hewouldstandnononsense，wouldnothaveherlookedonaskance。Thereisnothinglike”style”forcarryingthedefencesofsociety——only，itmustbethegenuinething。WhetheratMildenham，orinLondonunderthewingofhissister，therewasnodifficulty。Gypwastoopretty，Wintontoocool，hisquietnesstooformidable。Shehadeveryadvantage。Societyonlytroublesitselftomakefrontagainstthevisiblyweak。
Thehappiesttimeofagirl’slifeisthatwhenallappreciateandcovether，andsheherselfisfreeasair——aqueenofhearts，fornoneofwhichshehankers；or，ifnotthehappiest，atalleventsitisthegayesttime。WhatdidGypcarewhetherheartsachedforher——sheknewnotloveasyet，perhapswouldneverknowthepainsofunrequitedlove。Intoxicatedwithlife，sheledhermanyadmirersaprettydance，treatingthemwithasortofbravura。Shedidnotwantthemtobeunhappy，butshesimplycouldnottakethemseriously。Neverwasanygirlsoheart-free。Shewasaqueermixtureinthosedays，wouldgiveupanypleasureforWinton，andmostforBettyorheraunt——herlittlegovernesswasgone——butofnobodyelsedidsheseemtotakeaccount，acceptingallthatwaslaidatherfeetasthedueofherlooks，herdaintyfrocks，hermusic，hergoodridinganddancing，hertalentforamateurtheatricalsandmimicry。Winton，whomatleastsheneverfailed，watchedthatgloriousflutteringwithquietprideandsatisfaction。
Hewasgettingtothoseyearswhenamanofactiondislikesinterruptionofthegroovesintowhichhisactivityhasfallen。Hepursuedhishunting，racing，card-playing，andhisverystealthyalmsandservicestolameducksofhisoldregiment，theirfamilies，andotherunfortunates——happyinknowingthatGypwasalwaysasgladtobewithhimashetobewithher。Hereditarygout，too，hadbeguntobotherhim。
Thedaythatshecameofagetheywereupintown，andhesummonedhertotheroom，inwhichhenowsatbythefirerecallingallthesethings，toreceiveanaccountofhisstewardship。Hehadnursedhergreatlyembarrassedinheritanceverycarefullytillitamountedtosometwentythousandpounds。Hehadnevertoldherofit——thesubjectwasdangerous，and，sincehisownmeanswereample，shehadnotwantedforanything。Whenhehadexplainedexactlywhatsheowned，shownherhowitwasinvested，andtoldherthatshemustnowopenherownbankingaccount，shestoodgazingatthesheetsofpaper，whoseitemsshehadbeensupposedtounderstand，andherfacegatheredthelookwhichmeantthatshewastroubled。
Withoutliftinghereyessheasked:”Doesitallcomefrom——him？”
Hehadnotexpectedthat，andflushedunderhistan。”No；eightthousandofitwasyourmother’s。”
Gyplookedathim，andsaid:”ThenIwon’ttaketherest——please，Dad。”
Wintonfeltasortofcrabbedpleasure。Whatshouldbedonewiththatmoneyifshedidnottakeit，hedidnotintheleastknow。
Butnottotakeitwaslikeher，madehermorethaneverhisdaughter——akindoffinalvictory。Heturnedawaytothewindowfromwhichhehadsooftenwatchedforhermother。Therewasthecornersheusedtoturn！Inoneminute，surelyshewouldbestandingthere，colourglowinginhercheeks，hereyessoftbehindherveil，herbreastheavingalittlewithherhaste，waitingforhisembrace。Thereshewouldstand，drawingupherveil。Heturnedround。Difficulttobelieveitwasnotshe！Andhesaid:”Verywell，mylove。Butyouwilltaketheequivalentfrommeinstead。Theothercanbeputby；someonewillbenefitsomeday！”
Atthoseunaccustomedwords，”Mylove，”fromhisundemonstrativelips，thecolourmountedinhercheeksandhereyesshone。Shethrewherarmsroundhisneck。
Shehadherfillofmusicinthosedays，takingpianolessonsfromaMonsieurHarmost，agrey-hairednativeofLiege，withmahoganycheeksandthetouchofanangel，whokeptherhardatitandcalledherhis”littlefriend。”Therewasscarcelyaconcertofmeritthatshedidnotattendoramusicianofmarkwhoseplayingshedidnotknow，and，thoughfastidiousnesssavedherfromsquirminginadorationroundthefeetofthoseprodigiousperformers，sheperchedthemallonpedestals，menandwomenalike，andnowandthenmetthematheraunt’shouseinCurzonStreet。
AuntRosamund，alsomusical，sofarasbreedingwouldallow，stoodforagooddealtoGyp，whohadbuiltupaboutheraromanticstoryoflovewreckedbypridefromafewwordsshehadonceletdrop。
Shewasatallandhandsomewoman，ayearolderthanWinton，withalong，aristocraticface，deep-blue，rathershiningeyes，agentlemanlymanner，warmheart，andoneofthoseindescribable，notunmelodiousdrawlsthatoneconnectswithanunshakablesenseofprivilege。She，inturn，wasveryfondofGyp；andwhatpassedwithinhermind，bynomeansdevoidofshrewdness，astotheirrealrelationship，remainedeverdiscreetlyhidden。Shewas，sofaragainasbreedingwouldallow，somethingofahumanitarianandrebel，lovinghorsesanddogs，andhatingcats，exceptwhentheyhadfourlegs。Thegirlhadjustthatsoftnesswhichfascinateswomenwhoperhapsmighthavebeenhappieriftheyhadbeenbornmen。NotthatRosamundWintonwasofanaggressivetype——shemerelyhadtheresolute”catchholdofyourtail，oldfellow”
spiritsooftenfoundinEnglishwomenoftheupperclasses。A
cheerysoul，giventolongcoatsandwaistcoats，stocks，andacrutch-handledstick，she——likeherbrother——had”style，”butmoresenseofhumour——valuableinmusicalcircles！Atherhouse，thegirlwaspracticallycompelledtoseefunaswellasmeritinallthoseprodigies，haloedwithhairandfilledtooverflowingwithmusicandthemselves。And，sinceGyp’snaturalsenseoftheludicrouswasextreme，sheandherauntcouldrarelytalkaboutanythingwithoutgoingintofitsoflaughter。
WintonhadhisfirstreallybadattackofgoutwhenGypwastwenty-
two，and，terrifiedlesthemightnotbeabletositahorseintimefortheopeningmeets，hewentoffwithherandMarkeytoWiesbaden。TheyhadroomsintheWilhelmstrasse，overlookingthegardens，whereleaveswerealreadyturning，thatgorgeousSeptember。Thecurewaslongandobstinate，andWintonbadlybored。Gypfaredmuchbetter。AttendedbythesilentMarkey，sherodedailyontheNeroberg，chafingatregulationswhichreducedhertospecifiedtracksinthatmajesticwoodwherethebeechesglowed。OnceoreventwiceadayshewenttotheconcertsintheKurhaus，eitherwithherfatheroralone。
ThefirsttimesheheardFiorsenplayshewasalone。Unlikemostviolinists，hewastallandthin，withgreatpliancyofbodyandswiftswayofmovement。Hisfacewaspale，andwentstrangelywithhairandmoustacheofasortofdirt-goldcolour，andhisthincheekswithverybroadhighcheek-boneshadlittlenarrowscrapsofwhisker。ThoselittlewhiskersseemedtoGypawful——indeed，heseemedratherawfulaltogether——buthisplayingstirredandsweptherinthemostuncannyway。Hehadevidentlyremarkabletechnique；andtheemotion，theintensewaywardfeelingofhisplayingwaschiselledbythattechnique，asifaflamewerebeingfrozeninitsswaying。Whenhestopped，shedidnotjoininthetornadoofapplause，butsatmotionless，lookingupathim。Quiteunconstrainedbyallthosepeople，hepassedthebackofhishandacrosshishotbrow，shovingupawaveortwoofthatqueer-
colouredhair；then，witharatherdisagreeablesmile，hemadeashortsupplebowortwo。Andshethought，”Whatstrangeeyeshehas——likeagreatcat’s！”Surelytheyweregreen；fierce，yetshy，almostfurtive——mesmeric！Certainlythestrangestmanshehadeverseen，andthemostfrightening。Heseemedlookingstraightather；
and，droppinghergaze，sheclapped。Whenshelookedagain，hisfacehadlostthatsmileforakindofwistfulness。Hemadeanotherofthoselittlesupplebowsstraightather——itseemedtoGyp——andjerkedhisviolinuptohisshoulder。”He’sgoingtoplaytome，”shethoughtabsurdly。Heplayedwithoutaccompanimentalittletunethatseemedtotwitchtheheart。Whenhefinished，thistimeshedidnotlookup，butwasconsciousthathegaveoneimpatientbowandwalkedoff。
ThateveningatdinnershesaidtoWinton:”Iheardaviolinistto-day，Dad，themostwonderfulplaying——
GustavFiorsen。IsthatSwedish，doyouthink——orwhat？”
Wintonanswered:”Verylikely。Whatsortofabounderwashetolookat？IusedtoknowaSwedeintheTurkisharmy——nicefellow，too。””Tallandthinandwhite-faced，withbumpycheek-bones，andhollowsunderthem，andqueergreeneyes。Oh，andlittlegoldyside-
whiskers。””ByJove！Itsoundsthelimit。”
Gypmurmured，withasmile:”Yes；Ithinkperhapsheis。”
Shesawhimnextdayinthegardens。TheyweresittingclosetotheSchillerstatue，WintonreadingTheTimes，towhoseadventhelookedforwardmorethanheadmitted，forhewasloathbyconfessionsofboredomtodisturbGyp’smanifestenjoymentofherstay。Whileperusingthecustomarycomfortinganimadversionsontheconductofthose”rascallyRadicals”whohadjustcomeintopower，andtheaccountofaNewmarketmeeting，hekeptstealingsidelongglancesathisdaughter。
Certainlyshehadneverlookedprettier，daintier，shownmorebreedingthanshedidouthereamongtheseGermanswiththeirthickpasterns，andallthecosmopolitanhairy-heeledcrowdinthisGod-
forsakenplace！Thegirl，unconsciousofhisstealthyregalement，waslettinghercleareyesrest，inturn，oneachfigurethatpassed，onthemovementsofbirdsanddogs，watchingthesunlightglistenonthegrass，burnishthecopperbeeches，thelime-trees，andthosetallpoplarsdowntherebythewater。ThedoctoratMildenham，onceconsultedonaboutofheadache，hadcalledhereyes”perfectorgans，”andcertainlynoeyescouldtakethingsinmoreswiftlyorcompletely。Shewasattractivetodogs，andeverynowandthenonewouldstop，intwomindswhetherornotoputhisnoseintothisforeigngirl’shand。FromaflirtationofeyeswithagreatDane，shelookedupandsawFiorsenpassing，incompanywithashorter，squareman，havingveryfashionabletrousersandacorsetedwaist。Theviolinist’stall，thin，lopingfigurewastightlybuttonedintoabrownish-greyfrock-coatsuit；heworearatherbroad-brimmed，grey，velvetyhat；inhisbuttonholewasawhiteflower；hiscloth-toppedbootswereofpatentleather；histiewasbunchedoutattheendsoverasoftwhite-linenshirt——
altogetherquiteadandy！Hismoststrangeeyessuddenlysweptdownonhers，andhemadeamovementasiftoputhishandtohishat。
’Why，heremembersme，’thoughtGyp。Thatthin-waistedfigurewithheadsetjustalittleforwardbetweenratherhighshoulders，anditslongstride，curiouslysuggestedaleopardorsomelithecreature。Hetouchedhisshortcompanion’sarm，mutteredsomething，turnedround，andcameback。Shecouldseehimstaringherway，andknewhewascomingsimplytolookather。Sheknew，too，thatherfatherwaswatching。Andshefeltthatthosegreenisheyeswouldwaverbeforehisstare——thatstareoftheEnglishmanofacertainclass，whichnevercondescendstobeinquisitive。Theypassed；GypsawFiorsenturntohiscompanion，slightlytossingbackhisheadintheirdirection，andheardthecompanionlaugh。Alittleflameshotupinher。
Wintonsaid:”Rum-lookingJohnniesoneseeshere！””ThatwastheviolinistItoldyouof——Fiorsen。””Oh！Ah！”Buthehadevidentlyforgotten。
ThethoughtthatFiorsenshouldhavepickedheroutofallthataudienceforremembrancesubtlyflatteredhervanity。Shelostherruffledfeeling。Thoughherfatherthoughthisdressawful，itwasreallyratherbecoming。HewouldnothavelookedaswellinproperEnglishclothes。Once，atleast，duringthenexttwodays，shenoticedtheshort，squareyoungmanwhohadbeenwalkingwithhim，andwasconsciousthathefollowedherwithhiseyes。
AndthenacertainBaronessvonMaisen，acosmopolitanfriendofAuntRosamund’s，Germanbymarriage，half-Dutch，half-Frenchbybirth，askedherifshehadheardtheSwedishviolinist，Fiorsen。
Hewouldbe，shesaid，thebestviolinistoftheday，if——andsheshookherhead。Findingthatexpressiveshakeunquestioned，thebaronesspursuedherthoughts:”Ah，thesemusicians！Hewantssavingfromhimself。Ifhedoesnothaltsoon，hewillbelost。Pity！Agreattalent！”
Gyplookedathersteadilyandasked:”Doeshedrink，then？””Pasmal！Buttherearethingsbesidesdrink，machere。”
InstinctandsomuchlifewithWintonmadethegirlregarditasbeneathhertobeshocked。Shedidnotseekknowledgeoflife，butrefusedtoshyawayfromitorbediscomfited；andthebaroness，towhominnocencewaspiquant，wenton:”Desfemmes——toujoursdesfemmes！C’estgranddommage。Itwillspoilhisspirit。Hissolechanceistofindonewoman，butIpityher；sapristi，quelleviepourelle！”
Gypsaidcalmly:”Wouldamanlikethateverlove？”
Thebaronessgoggledhereyes。”Ihaveknownsuchamanbecomeaslave。Ihaveknownhimrunningafterawomanlikealambwhileshewasdeceivinghimhereandthere。Onnepeutjamaisdire。Mabelle，ilyadeschosesquevousnesavezpasencore。”ShetookGyp’shand。”Andyet，onethingiscertain。Withthoseeyesandthoselipsandthatfigure，YOUhaveatimebeforeyou！”
Gypwithdrewherhand，smiled，andshookherhead；shedidnotbelieveinlove。”Ah，butyouwillturnsomeheads！Nofear！asyouEnglishsay。
Thereisfatalityinthoseprettybrowneyes！”
Agirlmaybepardonedwhotakesasacomplimentthesayingthathereyesarefatal。ThewordswarmedGyp，uncontrollablylight-
heartedinthesedays，justasshewaswarmedwhenpeopleturnedtostareather。Thesoftair，themellownessofthisgayplace，muchmusic，asenseofbeingararaavisamongpeoplewho，bytheirheaviertype，enhancedherown，hadproducedinherakindofintoxication，makingherwhatthebaronesscalled”unpeufolle。”
Shewasalwaysbreakingintolaughter，havingthatpreciousfeelingoftwistingtheworldroundherthumb，whichdoesnotcometooofteninthelifeofonewhoissensitive。Everythingtoherjustthenwaseither”funny”or”lovely。”Andthebaroness，consciousofthegirl’schic，genuinelyattractedbyonesopretty，tookcarethatshesawallthepeople，perhapsmorethanall，thatweredesirable。
Towomenandartists，betweenwhomthereiseveracertainkinship，curiosityisavividemotion。Besides，themoreamanhasconquered，themorepreciousfieldheisforawoman’sconquest。
Toattractamanwhohasattractedmany，whatisitbutaproofthatone’scharmissuperiortothatofallthoseothers？ThewordsofthebaronessdeepenedinGyptheimpressionthatFiorsenwas”impossible，”butsecretlyfortifiedthefaintexcitementshefeltthatheshouldhaverememberedheroutofallthataudience。
Lateron，theyboremorefruitthanthat。Butfirstcamethatqueerincidentoftheflowers。
Cominginfromaride，aweekaftershehadsatwithWintonundertheSchillerstatue，Gypfoundonherdressing-tableabunchofGloiredeDijonandLaFranceroses。Plunginghernoseintothem，shethought:”Howlovely！Whosentmethese？”Therewasnocard。
AllthattheGermanmaidcouldsaywasthataboyhadbroughtthemfromaflowershop”furFrauleinVinton”；itwassurmisedthattheycamefromthebaroness。Inherbodiceatdinner，andtotheconcertafter，GypworeoneLaFranceandoneGloiredeDijon——adaringmixtureofpinkandorangeagainstheroyster-colouredfrock，whichdelightedher，whohadapassionforexperimentsincolour。Theyhadboughtnoprogramme，allmusicbeingthesametoWinton，andGypnotneedingany。WhenshesawFiorsencomeforward，hercheeksbegantocolourfromsheeranticipation。
HeplayedfirstaminuetbyMozart；thentheCesarFrancksonata；
andwhenhecamebacktomakehisbow，hewasholdinginhishandaGloiredeDijonandaLaFrancerose。Involuntarily，Gypraisedherhandtoherownroses。Hiseyesmethers；hebowedjustalittlelower。Then，quitenaturally，puttherosestohislipsashewaswalkingofftheplatform。Gypdroppedherhand，asifithadbeenstung。Then，withtheswiftthought:”Oh，that’sschoolgirlish！”shecontrivedalittlesmile。Buthercheekswereflushing。Shouldshetakeoutthoserosesandletthemfall？Herfathermightsee，mightnoticeFiorsen’s——puttwoandtwotogether！
Hewouldconsidershehadbeeninsulted。Hadshe？Shecouldnotbringherselftothinkso。Itwastooprettyacompliment，asifhewishedtotellherthathewasplayingtoheralone。Thebaroness’swordsflashedthroughhermind:”Hewantssavingfromhimself。Pity！Agreattalent！”ItWASagreattalent。Theremustbesomethingworthsavinginonewhocouldplaylikethat！
Theyleftafterhislastsolo。Gypputthetworosescarefullybackamongtheothers。
Threedayslater，shewenttoanafternoon”athome”attheBaronessvonMaisen’s。Shesawhimatonce，overbythepiano，withhisshort，squarecompanion，listeningtoavolublelady，andlookingveryboredandrestless。Allthatovercastafternoon，stillandwithqueerlightsinthesky，asifrainwerecoming，Gyphadbeenfeelingoutofmood，alittlehomesick。Nowshefeltexcited。Shesawtheshortcompaniondetachhimselfandgouptothebaroness；aminutelater，hewasbroughtuptoherandintroduced——CountRosek。Gypdidnotlikehisface；thereweredarkringsundertheeyes，andhewastooperfectlyself-possessed，withakindofcoldsweetness；buthewasveryagreeableandpolite，andspokeEnglishwell。Hewas——itseemed——aPole，wholivedinLondon，andseemedtoknowallthatwastobeknownaboutmusic。MissWinton——hebelieved——hadheardhisfriendFiorsenplay；butnotinLondon？No？Thatwasodd；hehadbeentheresomemonthslastseason。Faintlyannoyedatherignorance，Gypanswered:”Yes；butIwasinthecountrynearlyalllastsummer。””Hehadagreatsuccess。Ishalltakehimback；itisbestforhisfuture。Whatdoyouthinkofhisplaying？”
Inspiteofherself，forshedidnotlikeexpandingtothissphinxlikelittleman，Gypmurmured:”Oh，simplywonderful，ofcourse！”
Henodded，andthenrathersuddenlysaid，withapeculiarlittlesmile:”MayIintroducehim？Gustav——MissWinton！”
Gypturned。Therehewas，justbehindher，bowing；andhiseyeshadalookofhumbleadorationwhichhemadenoattemptwhatevertoconceal。GypsawanothersmileslideoverthePole’slips；andshewasaloneinthebaywindowwithFiorsen。Themomentmightwellhaveflutteredagirl’snervesafterhisrecognitionofherbytheSchillerstatue，afterthatepisodeoftheflowers，andwhatshehadheardofhim。Butlifehadnotyettouchedeitherhernervesorspirit；sheonlyfeltamusedandalittleexcited。Closeto，hehadnotsomuchthatlookofananimalbehindbars，andhecertainlywasinhiswayadandy，beautifullywashed——alwaysanimportantthing——andhavingsomepleasantessenceonhishandkerchieforhair，ofwhichGypwouldhavedisapprovedifhehadbeenEnglish。Heworeadiamondringalso，whichdidnotsomehowseembadformonthatparticularlittlefinger。Hisheight，hisbroadcheek-bones，thickbutnotlonghair，thehungryvitalityofhisface，figure，movements，annulledthoseevidencesoffemininity。Hewasmaleenough，rathertoomale。Speakingwithaqueer，crispaccent，hesaid:”MissWinton，youaremyaudiencehere。Iplaytoyou——onlytoyou。”
Gyplaughed。”Youlaughatme；butyouneednot。IplayforyoubecauseI
admireyou。Iadmireyouterribly。IfIsentyouthoseflowers，itwasnottoberude。Itwasmygratitudeforthepleasureofyourface。”Hisvoiceactuallytrembled。And，lookingdown，Gypanswered:”Thankyou。Itwasverykindofyou。Iwanttothankyouforyourplaying。Itisbeautiful——reallybeautiful！”
Hemadeheranotherlittlebow。”WhenIgobacktoLondon，willyoucomeandhearme？””Ishouldthinkanyonewouldgotohearyou，iftheyhadthechance。”
Hegaveashortlaugh。”Bah！Here，Idoitformoney；Ihatethisplace。Itboresme——
boresme！Wasthatyourfathersittingwithyouunderthestatue？”
Gypnodded，suddenlygrave。Shehadnotforgottentheslightingturnofhishead。
Hepassedhishandoverhisface，asiftowipeoffitsexpression。”HeisveryEnglish。Butyou——ofnocountry——youbelongtoall！”
Gypmadehimanironicallittlebow。”No；Ishouldnotknowyourcountry——youareneitheroftheNorthnoroftheSouth。YouarejustWoman，madetobeadored。Icameherehopingtomeetyou；Iamextremelyhappy。MissWinton，Iamyourverydevotedservant。”
Hewasspeakingveryfast，verylow，withanagitatedearnestnessthatsurelycouldnotbeputon。Butsuddenlymuttering:”Thesepeople！”hemadeheranotherofhislittlebowsandabruptlyslippedaway。Thebaronesswasbringingupanotherman。Thechiefthoughtleftbythatmeetingwas:”Isthathowhebeginstoeveryone？”Shecouldnotquitebelieveit。Thestammeringearnestnessofhisvoice，thosehumblyadoringlooks！ThensherememberedthesmileonthelipsofthelittlePole，andthought:”ButhemustknowI’mnotsillyenoughjusttobetakeninbyvulgarflattery！”
Toosensitivetoconfideinanyone，shehadnochancetoventilatethecurioussensationsofattractionandrepulsionthatbeganfermentinginher，feelingsdefyinganalysis，minglingandquarrellingdeepdowninherheart。Itwascertainlynotlove，noteventhebeginningofthat；butitwasthekindofdangerousinterestchildrenfeelinthingsmysterious，outofreach，yetwithinreach，ifonlytheydared！Andthetugofmusicwasthere，andthetugofthosewordsofthebaronessaboutsalvation——thethoughtofachievingtheimpossible，reservedonlyforthewomanofsupremecharm，forthetruevictress。Butallthesethoughtsandfeelingswereasyetinembryo。Shemightneverseehimagain！
Andshecertainlydidnotknowwhethersheevenwantedto。