the clack of tongues in the drawing-room; besides, the gentlemen have come in early, and I have no mind to spend an hour in trying to run away from Paul Vasher. Why does he seek me so persistently, I wonder? To make a confidante of me, I suppose, but, at any rate, I have never given him the chance, and during the last week I have become so adroit at dodging and avoiding him, that I am sure I shall find my experience useful when I go home, and have to circumvent the governor.
As I stand before the table considering, my eye catches the reflection of my face in the looking-glass, and startles me, it is so pale, so sad, so dull. I used to have such a merry, saucy face, folks said; but now there are dark shadows under my eyes, and a close, folded look about my mouth, as though it rarely knew smiles or laughter now. Verily my story is writ upon my face, people will begin to pity me next, O heavens! and I must bear it, since there is no means of forcing the body into subjection, even if one can the spirit.
At the end of the corridor is a door by which the grounds can be reached, and I leave the house, and climb to the upper walks and terraces. I should like to go down to the sea, but it is too late to go alone; and upon its shore I could not be more lonely than I am up here. I come to the seat where Paul Vasher and I sat a week ago—only a week! And it seems a year. Everything looks different to what it did on that morning; a faint chill bleakness lies over the landscape, the trees shiver a little as the leaves fall rustling to the ground, the bit of sea in the distance is not blue at all, but a dull greyish-green, the birds are all cross, or asleep, and there is no pleasant hum of insects on the evening air. Perhaps it is I who am out of sorts, not Nature. When we begin to study the passions, can we indeed go hand in hand with her, as when her gentle lore and tender secrets were all the wisdom we sought, when her peaceful voice seemed satisfying and sweet to us?
