ever now could Rose stoop to him. He carried the shop on his
back. She saw the brand of it on his forehead. Well! and what was Rose to
him, beyond a blissful memory, a star that he had once touched? Self-love
kept him strong by day, but in the darkness of night came his misery;
wakening from tender dreams, he would find his heart sinking under a
horrible pressure, and then the fair fresh face of Rose swam over him;
the hours of Beckley were revived; with intolerable anguish he saw that
she was blameless--that he alone was to blame. Yet worse was it when his
closed eyelids refused to conjure up the sorrowful lovely nightmare, and
he lay like one in a trance, entombed-wretched Pagan! feeling all that
had been blindly; when the Past lay beside him like a corpse that he had
slain.

These nightly torments helped him to brave what the morning brought.
Insensibly also, as Time hardened his sufferings, Evan asked himself what
the shame of his position consisted in. He grew stiff-necked. His Pagan
virtues stood up one by one to support him. Andrew, courageously evading
the interdict that forbade him to visit Evan, would meet him by
appointment at City taverns, and flatly offered him a place in the
Brewery. Evan declined it, on the pretext that, having received Old Tom's
money for the year, he must at least work out that term according to the
conditions. Andrew fumed and sneered at Tailordom. Evan said that there
was peace in Mr. Goren's shop. His sharp senses discerned in Andrew's
sneer a certain sincerity, and he revolted against it. Mr John Raikes,
too, burlesqued Society so well, that he had the satisfaction of laughing
at his enemy occasionally. The latter gentleman was still a pensioner,
flying about town with the Countess de Saldar, in deadly fear lest that
fascinating lady should discover the seat of his fortune; happy,
notwithstanding. In the mirror of Evan's little world, he beheld the
great one from which he was banished.

Now the dusk of a winter's afternoon was closing over London, when a
carriage drew up in front of Mr. Goren's shop, out of which, to Mr.
Goren's chagrin, a lady stepped, with her veil down. The lady entered,
and said that she wished to speak to Mr. Harrington. Mr. Goren made way
for her to his pupil; and was amazed to see her fall into his arms, and
hardly gratified to hear her say: 'Pardon me, darling, for coming to you
in this place.'

Evan asked permission to occupy the parlour.

'My place,' s