e could not
drop her hand or move away from her abruptly.

"Sir Hugo says he shall come to stay at Diplow," said Gwendolen,
snatching at previously intended words which had slipped away from her.
"You will come too."

"Probably," said Deronda, and then feeling that the word was cold, he
added, correctively, "Yes, I shall come," and then released her hand,
with the final friendly pressure of one who has virtually said good-bye.

"And not again here, before I leave town?" said Gwendolen, with timid
sadness, looking as pallid as ever.

What could Deronda say? "If I can be of any use--if you wish
me--certainly I will."

"I must wish it," said Gwendolen, impetuously; "you know I must wish
it. What strength have I? Who else is there?" Again a sob was rising.

Deronda felt a pang, which showed itself in his face. He looked
miserable as he said, "I will certainly come."

Gwendolen perceived the change in his face; but the intense relief of
expecting him to come again could not give way to any other feeling,
and there was a recovery of the inspired hope and courage in her.

"Don't be unhappy about me," she said, in a tone of affectionate
assurance. "I shall remember your words--every one of them. I shall
remember what you believe about me; I shall try."

She looked at him firmly, and put out her hand again as if she had
forgotten what had passed since those words of his which she promised
to remember. But there was no approach to a smile on her lips. She had
never smiled since her husband's death. When she stood still and in
silence, she looked like a melancholy statue of the Gwendolen whose
laughter had once been so ready when others were grave.

It is only by remembering the searching anguish which had changed the
aspect of the world for her that we can understand her behavior to
Deronda--the unreflecting openness, nay, the importunate pleading, with
which she expressed her dependence on him. Considerations such as would
have filled the minds of indifferent spectators could not occur to her,
any more than if flames had been mounting around her, and she had flung
herself into his open arms and clung about his neck that he might carry
her into safety. She identified him with the struggling regenerative
process in her which had begun with his action. Is it any wonder that
she saw her own necessity reflected in his feeling? She was in that
state of unconscious reliance and expectation which is a common
experience with