Though my affections might now be said to be fairly weaned fromEliza Millward, I did not yet entirely relinquish my visits to thevicarage, because I wanted, as it were, to let her down easy;without raising much sorrow, or incurring much resentment, - ormaking myself the talk of the parish; and besides, if I had whollykept away, the vicar, who looked upon my visits as paid chiefly, ifnot entirely, to himself, would have felt himself decidedlyaffronted by the neglect. But when I called there the day after myinterview with Mrs. Graham, he happened to be from home - acircumstance by no means so agreeable to me now as it had been onformer occasions. Miss Millward was there, it is true, but she, ofcourse, would be little better than a nonentity. However, Iresolved to make my visit a short one, and to talk to Eliza in abrotherly, friendly sort of way, such as our long acquaintancemight warrant me in assuming, and which, I thought, could neithergive offence nor serve to encourage false hopes.

It was never my custom to talk about Mrs. Graham either to her orany one else; but I had not been seated three minutes before shebrought that lady on to the carpet herself in a rather remarkablemanner.

'Oh, Mr. Markham!' said she, with a shocked expression and voicesubdued almost to a whisper, 'what do you think of these shockingreports about Mrs. Graham? - can you encourage us to disbelievethem?'

'What reports?'

'Ah, now! you know!' she slily smiled and shook her head.

'I know nothing about them. What in the world do you mean, Eliza?'

'Oh, don't ask me! I can't explain it.' She took up the cambrichandkerchief which she had been beautifying with a deep laceborder, and began to be very busy.

'What is it, Miss Millward? what does she mean?' said I, appealingto her sister, who seemed to be absorbed in the hemming of a large,coarse sheet.

'I don't know,' replied she. 'Some idle slander somebody has beeninventing, I suppose. I never heard it till Eliza told me theother day, - but if all the parish dinned it in my ears, Ishouldn't believe a word of it - I know Mrs. Graham too well!'

'Quite right, Miss Millward! - and so do I - whatever it may be.'

'Well,' observed Eliza, with a gentle sigh, 'it's well to have sucha comfortable assurance regarding the worth of those we love. Ionly wish you may not find your confidence misplaced.'

And she raised her face, and gave me such a look of sorrowfultenderness as might have melted my heart, but within those eyesthere lurked a something that I did not like; and I wondered how Iever could have admired them - her sister's honest face and smallgrey optics appeared far more agreeable. But I was out of temperwith Eliza at that moment for her insinuations against Mrs. Graham,which were false, I was certain, whether she knew it or not.

I said nothing more on the subject, however, at the time, and butlittle on any other; for, finding I could not well recover myequanimity, I presently rose and took leave, excusing myself underthe plea of business at the farm; and to the farm I went, nottroubling my mind one whit about the possible truth of thesemysterious reports, but only wondering what they were, by whomoriginated, and on what foundations raised, and how they could themost effectually be silenced or disproved.

A few days after this we had another of our quiet little parties,to which the usual company of friends and neighbours had beeninvited, and Mrs. Graham among the number. She could not nowabsent herself under the plea of dark evenings or inclementweather, and, greatly to my relief, she came. Without her I shouldhave found the whole affair an intolerable bore; but the moment ofher arrival brought new life to the house, and though I might notneglect the other guests for her, or expect to engross much of herattention and conversation to myself alone, I anticipated anevening of no common enjoyment.

Mr. Lawrence came too. He did not arrive till some time after therest were assembled. I was curious to see how he would comporthimself to Mrs. Graham. A slight bow was all that passed betweenthem on his entrance; and having politely greeted the other membersof the company, he seated himself quite aloof from the young widow,between my mother and Rose.

'Did you ever see such art?' whispered Eliza, who was my nearestneighbour. 'Would you not say they were perfect strangers?'

'Almost; but what then?'

'What then; why, you can't pretend to be ignorant?'

'Ignorant of what?' demanded I, so sharply that she started andreplied, -

'Oh, hush! don't speak so loud.'

'Well, tell me then,' I answered in a lower tone, 'what is it youmean? I hate enigmas.'

'Well, you know, I don't vouch for the truth of it - indeed, farfrom it - but haven't you heard -?'

'I've heard nothing, except from you.'

'You must be wilfully deaf then, for anyone will tell you that; butI shall only anger you by repeating it, I see, so I had better holdmy tongue.'

She closed her lips and folded her hands before her, with an air ofinjured meekness.

'If you had wished not to anger me, you should have held yourtongue from the beginning, or else spoken out plainly and honestlyall you had to say.'

She turned aside her face, pulled out her handkerchief, rose, andwent to the window, where she stood for some time, evidentlydissolved in tears. I was astounded, provoked, ashamed - not somuch of my harshness as for her childish weakness. However, no oneseemed to notice her, and shortly after we were summoned to thetea-table: in those parts it was customary to sit to the table attea-time on all occasions, and make a meal of it, for we dinedearly. On taking my seat, I had Rose on one side of me and anempty chair on the other.

'May I sit by you?' said a soft voice at my elbow.

'If you like,' was the reply; and Eliza slipped into the vacantchair; then, looking up in my face with a half-sad, half-playfulsmile, she whispered, - 'You're so stern, Gilbert.'

I handed down her tea with a slightly contemptuous smile, and saidnothing, for I had nothing to say.

'What have I done to offend you?' said she, more plaintively. 'Iwish I knew.'

'Come, take your tea, Eliza, and don't be foolish,' responded I,handing her the sugar and cream.

Just then there arose a slight commotion on the other side of me,occasioned by Miss Wilson's coming to negotiate an exchange ofseats with Rose.

'Will you be so good as to exchange places with me, Miss Markham?'said she; 'for I don't like to sit by Mrs. Graham. If your mammathinks proper to invite such persons to her house, she cannotobject to her daughter's keeping company with them.'

This latter clause was added in a sort of soliloquy when Rose wasgone; but I was not polite enough to let it pass.

'Will you be so good as to tell me what you mean, Miss Wilson?'said I.

The question startled her a little, but not much.

'Why, Mr. Markham,' replied she, coolly, having quickly recoveredher self-possession, 'it surprises me rather that Mrs. Markhamshould invite such a person as Mrs. Graham to her house; but,perhaps, she is not aware that the lady's character is consideredscarcely respectable.'

'She is not, nor am I; and therefore you would oblige me byexplaining your meaning a little further.'

'This is scarcely the time or the place for such explanations; butI think you can hardly be so ignorant as you pretend - you mustknow her as well as I do.'

'I think I do, perhaps a little better; and therefore, if you willinform me what you have heard or imagined against her, I shall,perhaps, be able to set you right.'

'Can you tell me, then, who was her husband, or if she ever hadany?'

Indignation kept me silent. At such a time and place I could nottrust myself to answer.

'Have you never observed,' said Eliza, 'what a striking likenessthere is between that child of hers and - '

'And whom?' demanded Miss Wilson, with an air of cold, but keenseverity.

Eliza was startled; the timidly spoken suggestion had been intendedfor my ear alone.

'Oh, I beg your pardon!' pleaded she; 'I may be mistaken - perhapsI was mistaken.' But she accompanied the words with a sly glanceof derision directed to me from the corner of her disingenuous eye.

'There's no need to ask my pardon,' replied her friend, 'but I seeno one here that at all resembles that child, except his mother,and when you hear ill-natured reports, Miss Eliza, I will thankyou, that is, I think you will do well, to refrain from repeatingthem. I presume the person you allude to is Mr. Lawrence; but Ithink I can assure you that your suspicions, in that respect, areutterly misplaced; and if he has any particular connection with thelady at all (which no one has a right to assert), at least he has(what cannot be said of some others) sufficient sense of proprietyto withhold him from acknowledging anything more than a bowingacquaintance in the presence of respectable persons; he wasevidently both surprised and annoyed to find her here.'

'Go it!' cried Fergus, who sat on the other side of Eliza, and wasthe only individual who shared that side of the table with us. 'Goit like bricks! mind you don't leave her one stone upon another.'

Miss Wilson drew herself up with a look of freezing scorn, but saidnothing. Eliza would have replied, but I interrupted her by sayingas calmly as I could, though in a tone which betrayed, no doubt,some little of what I felt within, - 'We have had enough of thissubject; if we can only speak to slander our betters, let us holdour tongues.'

'I think you'd better,' observed Fergus, 'and so does our goodparson; he has been addressing the company in his richest vein allthe while, and eyeing you, from time to time, with looks of sterndistaste, while you sat there, irreverently whispering andmuttering together; and once he paused in the middle of a story ora sermon, I don't know which, and fixed his eyes upon you, Gilbert,as much as to say, "When Mr. Markham has done flirting with thosetwo ladies I will proceed."'

What more was said at the tea-table I cannot tell, nor how I foundpatience to sit till the meal was over. I remember, however, thatI swallowed with difficulty the remainder of the tea that was in mycup, and ate nothing; and that the first thing I did was to stareat Arthur Graham, who sat beside his mother on the opposite side ofthe table, and the second to stare at Mr. Lawrence, who sat below;and, first, it struck me that there was a likeness; but, on furthercontemplation, I concluded it was only in imagination.

Both, it is true, had more delicate features and smaller bones thancommonly fall to the lot of individuals of the rougher sex, andLawrence's complexion was pale and clear, and Arthur's delicatelyfair; but Arthur's tiny, somewhat snubby nose could never become solong and straight as Mr. Lawrence's; and the outline of his face,though not full enough to be round, and too finely converging tothe small, dimpled chin to be square, could never be drawn out tothe long oval of the other's, while the child's hair was evidentlyof a lighter, warmer tint than the elder gentleman's had ever been,and his large, clear blue eyes, though prematurely serious attimes, were utterly dissimilar to the shy hazel eyes of Mr.Lawrence, whence the sensitive soul looked so distrustfully forth,as ever ready to retire within, from the offences of a too rude,too uncongenial world. Wretch that I was to harbour thatdetestable idea for a moment! Did I not know Mrs. Graham? Had Inot seen her, conversed with her time after time? Was I notcertain that she, in intellect, in purity and elevation of soul,was immeasurably superior to any of her detractors; that she was,in fact, the noblest, the most adorable, of her sex I had everbeheld, or even imagined to exist? Yes, and I would say with MaryMillward (sensible girl as she was), that if all the parish, ay, orall the world, should din these horrible lies in my ears, I wouldnot believe them, for I knew her better than they.

Meantime, my brain was on fire with indignation, and my heartseemed ready to burst from its prison with conflicting passions. Iregarded my two fair neighbours with a feeling of abhorrence andloathing I scarcely endeavoured to conceal. I was rallied fromseveral quarters for my abstraction and ungallant neglect of theladies; but I cared little for that: all I cared about, besidesthat one grand subject of my thoughts, was to see the cups travelup to the tea-tray, and not come down again. I thought Mr.Millward never would cease telling us that he was no tea-drinker,and that it was highly injurious to keep loading the stomach withslops to the exclusion of more wholesome sustenance, and so givehimself time to finish his fourth cup.

At length it was over; and I rose and left the table and the guestswithout a word of apology - I could endure their company no longer.I rushed out to cool my brain in the balmy evening air, and tocompose my mind or indulge my passionate thoughts in the solitudeof the garden.

To avoid being seen from the windows I went down a quiet littleavenue that skirted one side of the inclosure, at the bottom ofwhich was a seat embowered in roses and honeysuckles. Here I satdown to think over the virtues and wrongs of the lady of WildfellHall; but I had not been so occupied two minutes, before voices andlaughter, and glimpses of moving objects through the trees,informed me that the whole company had turned out to take an airingin the garden too. However, I nestled up in a corner of the bower,and hoped to retain possession of it, secure alike from observationand intrusion. But no - confound it - there was some one comingdown the avenue! Why couldn't they enjoy the flowers and sunshineof the open garden, and leave that sunless nook to me, and thegnats and midges?

But, peeping through my fragrant screen of the interwoven branchesto discover who the intruders were (for a murmur of voices told meit was more than one), my vexation instantly subsided, and farother feelings agitated my still unquiet soul; for there was Mrs.Graham, slowly moving down the walk with Arthur by her side, and noone else. Why were they alone? Had the poison of detractingtongues already spread through all; and had they all turned theirbacks upon her? I now recollected having seen Mrs. Wilson, in theearly part of the evening, edging her chair close up to my mother,and bending forward, evidently in the delivery of some importantconfidential intelligence; and from the incessant wagging of herhead, the frequent distortions of her wrinkled physiognomy, and thewinking and malicious twinkle of her little ugly eyes, I judged itwas some spicy piece of scandal that engaged her powers; and fromthe cautious privacy of the communication I supposed some personthen present was the luckless object of her calumnies: and fromall these tokens, together with my mother's looks and gestures ofmingled horror and incredulity, I now concluded that object to havebeen Mrs. Graham. I did not emerge from my place of concealmenttill she had nearly reached the bottom of the walk, lest myappearance should drive her away; and when I did step forward shestood still and seemed inclined to turn back as it was.

'Oh, don't let us disturb you, Mr. Markham!' said she. 'We camehere to seek retirement ourselves, not to intrude on yourseclusion.'

'I am no hermit, Mrs. Graham - though I own it looks rather like itto absent myself in this uncourteous fashion from my guests.'

'I feared you were unwell,' said she, with a look of real concern.

'I was rather, but it's over now. Do sit here a little and rest,and tell me how you like this arbour,' said I, and, lifting Arthurby the shoulders, I planted him in the middle of the seat by way ofsecuring his mamma, who, acknowledging it to be a tempting place ofrefuge, threw herself back in one corner, while I took possessionof the other.

But that word refuge disturbed me. Had their unkindness thenreally driven her to seek for peace in solitude?

'Why have they left you alone?' I asked.

'It is I who have left them,' was the smiling rejoinder. 'I waswearied to death with small talk - nothing wears me out like that.I cannot imagine how they can go on as they do.'

I could not help smiling at the serious depth of her wonderment.

'Is it that they think it a duty to be continually talking,'pursued she: 'and so never pause to think, but fill up withaimless trifles and vain repetitions when subjects of real interestfail to present themselves, or do they really take a pleasure insuch discourse?'

'Very likely they do,' said I; 'their shallow minds can hold nogreat ideas, and their light heads are carried away by trivialitiesthat would not move a better-furnished skull; and their onlyalternative to such discourse is to plunge over head and ears intothe slough of scandal - which is their chief delight.'

'Not all of them, surely?' cried the lady, astonished at thebitterness of my remark.

'No, certainly; I exonerate my sister from such degraded tastes,and my mother too, if you included her in your animadversions.'

'I meant no animadversions against any one, and certainly intendedno disrespectful allusions to your mother. I have known somesensible persons great adepts in that style of conversation whencircumstances impelled them to it; but it is a gift I cannot boastthe possession of. I kept up my attention on this occasion as longas I could, but when my powers were exhausted I stole away to seeka few minutes' repose in this quiet walk. I hate talking wherethere is no exchange of ideas or sentiments, and no good given orreceived.'

'Well,' said I, 'if ever I trouble you with my loquacity, tell meso at once, and I promise not to be offended; for I possess thefaculty of enjoying the company of those I - of my friends as wellin silence as in conversation.'

'I don't quite believe you; but if it were so you would exactlysuit me for a companion.'

'I am all you wish, then, in other respects?'

'No, I don't mean that. How beautiful those little clusters offoliage look, where the sun comes through behind them!' said she,on purpose to change the subject.

And they did look beautiful, where at intervals the level rays ofthe sun penetrating the thickness of trees and shrubs on theopposite side of the path before us, relieved their dusky verdureby displaying patches of semi-transparent leaves of resplendentgolden green.

'I almost wish I were not a painter,' observed my companion.

'Why so? one would think at such a time you would most exult inyour privilege of being able to imitate the various brilliant anddelightful touches of nature.'

'No; for instead of delivering myself up to the full enjoyment ofthem as others do, I am always troubling my head about how I couldproduce the same effect upon canvas; and as that can never be done,it is more vanity and vexation of spirit.'

'Perhaps you cannot do it to satisfy yourself, but you may and dosucceed in delighting others with the result of your endeavours.'

'Well, after all, I should not complain: perhaps few people gaintheir livelihood with so much pleasure in their toil as I do. Hereis some one coming.'

She seemed vexed at the interruption.

'It is only Mr. Lawrence and Miss Wilson,' said I, 'coming to enjoya quiet stroll. They will not disturb us.'

I could not quite decipher the expression of her face; but I wassatisfied there was no jealousy therein. What business had I tolook for it?

'What sort of a person is Miss Wilson?' she asked.

'She is elegant and accomplished above the generality of her birthand station; and some say she is ladylike and agreeable.'

'I thought her somewhat frigid and rather supercilious in hermanner to-day.'

'Very likely she might be so to you. She has possibly taken aprejudice against you, for I think she regards you in the light ofa rival.'

'Me! Impossible, Mr. Markham!' said she, evidently astonished andannoyed.

'Well, I know nothing about it,' returned I, rather doggedly; for Ithought her annoyance was chiefly against myself.

The pair had now approached within a few paces of us. Our arbourwas set snugly back in a corner, before which the avenue at itstermination turned off into the more airy walk along the bottom ofthe garden. As they approached this, I saw, by the aspect of JaneWilson, that she was directing her companion's attention to us;and, as well by her cold, sarcastic smile as by the few isolatedwords of her discourse that reached me, I knew full well that shewas impressing him with the idea, that we were strongly attached toeach other. I noticed that he coloured up to the temples, gave usone furtive glance in passing, and walked on, looking grave, butseemingly offering no reply to her remarks.

It was true, then, that he had some designs upon Mrs. Graham; and,were they honourable, he would not be so anxious to conceal them.She was blameless, of course, but he was detestable beyond allcount.

While these thoughts flashed through my mind, my companion abruptlyrose, and calling her son, said they would now go in quest of thecompany, and departed up the avenue. Doubtless she had heard orguessed something of Miss Wilson's remarks, and therefore it wasnatural enough she should choose to continue the TETE-E-TETE nolonger, especially as at that moment my cheeks were burning withindignation against my former friend, the token of which she mightmistake for a blush of stupid embarrassment. For this I owed MissWilson yet another grudge; and still the more I thought upon herconduct the more I hated her.

It was late in the evening before I joined the company. I foundMrs. Graham already equipped for departure, and taking leave of therest, who were now returned to the house. I offered, nay, beggedto accompany her home. Mr. Lawrence was standing by at the timeconversing with some one else. He did not look at us, but, onhearing my earnest request, he paused in the middle of a sentenceto listen for her reply, and went on, with a look of quietsatisfaction, the moment he found it was to be a denial.

A denial it was, decided, though not unkind. She could not bepersuaded to think there was danger for herself or her child intraversing those lonely lanes and fields without attendance. Itwas daylight still, and she should meet no one; or if she did, thepeople were quiet and harmless she was well assured. In fact, shewould not hear of any one's putting himself out of the way toaccompany her, though Fergus vouchsafed to offer his services incase they should be more acceptable than mine, and my mother beggedshe might send one of the farming-men to escort her.

When she was gone the rest was all a blank or worse. Lawrenceattempted to draw me into conversation, but I snubbed him and wentto another part of the room. Shortly after the party broke up andhe himself took leave. When he came to me I was blind to hisextended hand, and deaf to his good-night till he repeated it asecond time; and then, to get rid of him, I muttered aninarticulate reply, accompanied by a sulky nod.

'What is the matter, Markham?' whispered he.

I replied by a wrathful and contemptuous stare.

'Are you angry because Mrs. Graham would not let you go home withher?' he asked, with a faint smile that nearly exasperated mebeyond control.

But, swallowing down all fiercer answers, I merely demanded, -'What business is it of yours?'

'Why, none,' replied he with provoking quietness; 'only,' - and heraised his eyes to my face, and spoke with unusual solemnity, -'only let me tell you, Markham, that if you have any designs inthat quarter, they will certainly fail; and it grieves me to seeyou cherishing false hopes, and wasting your strength in uselessefforts, for - '

'Hypocrite!' I exclaimed; and he held his breath, and looked veryblank, turned white about the gills, and went away without anotherword.

I had wounded him to the quick; and I was glad of it.