to leave further speech till the morrow: there was
evidently some mental relief for her in an outpouring such as she could
never have allowed herself before. He stood still while she maintained
silence longer than she knew, and the light was perceptibly fading. At
last she turned to him and said--

"I can bear no more now." She put out her hand, but then quickly
withdrew it saying, "Stay. How do I know that I can see you again? I
cannot bear to be seen when I am in pain."

She drew forth a pocket-book, and taking out a letter said, "This is
addressed to the banking-house in Mainz, where you are to go for your
grandfather's chest. It is a letter written by Joseph Kalonymos: if he
is not there himself, this order of his will be obeyed."

When Deronda had taken the letter, she said, with effort but more
gently than before, "Kneel again, and let me kiss you."

He obeyed, and holding his head between her hands, she kissed him
solemnly on the brow. "You see, I had no life left to love you with,"
she said, in a low murmur. "But there is more fortune for you. Sir Hugo
was to keep it in reserve. I gave you all your father's fortune. They
can never accuse me of robbery there."

"If you had needed anything I would have worked for you," said Deronda,
conscious of disappointed yearning--a shutting out forever from long
early vistas of affectionate imagination.

"I need nothing that the skill of man can give me," said his mother,
still holding his head, and perusing his features. "But perhaps now I
have satisfied my father's will, your face will come instead of
his--your young, loving face."

"But you will see me again?" said Deronda, anxiously.

"Yes--perhaps. Wait, wait. Leave me now."

CHAPTER LII.

"La meme fermete qui sert a resister a l'amour sert aussi a le rendre
violent et durable; et les personnes faibles qui sont toujours
agitees des passions n'en sont presque jamais veritablement remplies."
--LA ROCHEFOUCAULD.

Among Deronda's letters the next morning was one from Hans Meyrick of
four quarto pages, in the small, beautiful handwriting which ran in the
Meyrick family.

MY DEAR DERONDA,--In return for your sketch of Italian movements and
your view of the world's affairs generally, I may say that here at
home the most judicious opinion going as to the effects of present
causes is that "time will show." As to the present causes of past
effects, it is now seen that the