ly chest. But mixed mental conditions, which did
not resolve themselves into definite reasons, hindered him from
departure. Long after the farewell he was kept passive by a weight of
retrospective feeling. He lived again, with the new keenness of emotive
memory, through the exciting scenes which seemed past only in the sense
of preparation for their actual presence in his soul. He allowed
himself in his solitude to sob, with perhaps more than a woman's
acuteness of compassion, over that woman's life so near to his, and yet
so remote. He beheld the world changed for him by the certitude of ties
that altered the poise of hopes and fears, and gave him a new sense of
fellowship, as if under cover of the night he had joined the wrong band
of wanderers, and found with the rise of morning that the tents of his
kindred were grouped far off. He had a quivering imaginative sense of
close relation to the grandfather who had been animated by strong
impulses and beloved thoughts, which were now perhaps being roused from
their slumber within himself. And through all this passionate
meditation Mordecai and Mirah were always present, as beings who
clasped hands with him in sympathetic silence.

Of such quick, responsive fibre was Deronda made, under that mantle of
self-controlled reserve into which early experience had thrown so much
of his young strength.

When the persistent ringing of a bell as a signal reminded him of the
hour he thought of looking into _Bradshaw_, and making the brief
necessary preparations for starting by the next train--thought of it,
but made no movement in consequence. Wishes went to Mainz and what he
was to get possession of there--to London and the beings there who made
the strongest attachments of his life; but there were other wishes that
clung in these moments to Genoa, and they kept him where he was by that
force which urges us to linger over an interview that carries a
presentiment of final farewell or of overshadowing sorrow. Deronda did
not formally say, "I will stay over to-night, because it is Friday, and
I should like to go to the evening service at the synagogue where they
must all have gone; and besides, I may see the Grandcourts again." But
simply, instead of packing and ringing for his bill, he sat doing
nothing at all, while his mind went to the synagogue and saw faces
there probably little different from those of his grandfather's time,
and heard the Spanish-Hebrew liturgy which had lasted t