e--sort of cross between a hog and a
_dilettante_."

Gwendolen laughed. All that seemed kind and natural enough:
Grandcourt's fastidiousness enhanced the kindness. And when they
reached the door, his way of opening it for her was the perfection of
easy homage. Really, she thought, he was likely to be the least
disagreeable of husbands.

Mrs. Davilow was waiting anxiously in her bed-room when Gwendolen
entered, stepped toward her quickly, and kissing her on both cheeks
said in a low tone, "Come down, mamma, and see Mr. Grandcourt. I am
engaged to him."

"My darling child," said Mrs. Davilow, with a surprise that was rather
solemn than glad.

"Yes," said Gwendolen, in the same tone, and with a quickness which
implied that it was needless to ask questions. "Everything is settled.
You are not going to Sawyer's Cottage, I am not going to be inspected
by Mrs. Mompert, and everything is to be as I like. So come down with
me immediately."

BOOK IV--GWENDOLEN GETS HER CHOICE.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

"Il est plus aise de connoitre l'homme en general que de connoitre un
homme en particulier.--LA ROCHEFOUCAULD."

An hour after Grandcourt had left, the important news of Gwendolen's
engagement was known at the rectory, and Mr. and Mrs. Gascoigne, with
Anna, spent the evening at Offendene.

"My dear, let me congratulate you on having created a strong
attachment," said the rector. "You look serious, and I don't wonder at
it: a lifelong union is a solemn thing. But from the way Mr. Grandcourt
has acted and spoken I think we may already see some good arising out
of our adversity. It has given you an opportunity of observing your
future husband's delicate liberality."

Mr. Gascoigne referred to Grandcourt's mode of implying that he would
provide for Mrs. Davilow--a part of the love-making which Gwendolen had
remembered to cite to her mother with perfect accuracy.

"But I have no doubt that Mr. Grandcourt would have behaved quite as
handsomely if you had not gone away to Germany, Gwendolen, and had been
engaged to him, as you no doubt might have been, more than a month
ago," said Mrs. Gascoigne, feeling that she had to discharge a duty on
this occasion. "But now there is no more room for caprice; indeed, I
trust you have no inclination to any. A woman has a great debt of
gratitude to a man who perseveres in making her such an offer. But no
doubt you feel properly."

"I am not at all sure that I do, aunt," said