She traced the remainder of the woodland track dazed by the

complications of her position. If his protestations to her before

their marriage could be believed, her husband had felt affection of

some sort for herself and this woman simultaneously; and was now again

spreading the same emotion over Mrs. Charmond and herself conjointly,

his manner being still kind and fond at times. But surely, rather than

that, he must have played the hypocrite towards her in each case with

elaborate completeness; and the thought of this sickened her, for it

involved the conjecture that if he had not loved her, his only motive

for making her his wife must have been her little fortune. Yet here

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Grace made a mistake, for the love of men like Fitzpiers is

unquestionably of such quality as to bear division and transference.

He had indeed, once declared, though not to her, that on one occasion

he had noticed himself to be possessed by five distinct infatuations at

the same time. Therein it differed from the highest affection as the

lower orders of the animal world differ from advanced organisms,

partition causing, not death, but a multiplied existence. He had loved

her sincerely, and had by no means ceased to love her now. But such

double and treble barrelled hearts were naturally beyond her conception.

Of poor Suke Damson, Grace thought no more. She had had her day.

"If he does not love me I will not love him!" said Grace, proudly. And

though these were mere words, it was a somewhat formidable thing for

Fitzpiers that her heart was approximating to a state in which it might

be possible to carry them out. That very absence of hot jealousy which

made his courses so easy, and on which, indeed, he congratulated

himself, meant, unknown to either wife or husband, more mischief than

the inconvenient watchfulness of a jaundiced eye.

Her sleep that night was nervous. The wing allotted to her and her

husband had never seemed so lonely. At last she got up, put on her

dressing-gown, and went down-stairs. Her father, who slept lightly,

heard her descend, and came to the stair-head.

"Is that you, Grace? What's the matter?" he said.

"Nothing more than that I am restless. Edgar is detained by a case at

Owlscombe in White Hart Vale."

"But how's that? I saw the woman's husband at Great Hintock just afore

bedtime; and she was going on well, and the doctor gone then."

"Then he's detained somewhere else," said Grace. "Never mind me; he

will soon be home. I expect him about one."




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