da, since he has no legitimate son."

Gwendolen was silent; but her mother observed so marked an effect in
her face that she was angry with herself for having repeated Mrs.
Torrington's gossip. It seemed, on reflection, unsuited to the ear of
her daughter, for whom Mrs. Davilow disliked what is called knowledge
of the world; and indeed she wished that she herself had not had any of
it thrust upon her.

An image which had immediately arisen in Gwendolen's mind was that of
the unknown mother--no doubt a dark-eyed woman--probably sad. Hardly
any face could be less like Deronda's than that represented as Sir
Hugo's in a crayon portrait at Diplow. A dark-eyed woman, no longer
young, had become "stuff o' the conscience" to Gwendolen.

That night when she had got into her little bed, and only a dim light
was burning, she said--

"Mamma, have men generally children before they are married?"

"No, dear, no," said Mrs. Davilow. "Why do you ask such a question?"
(But she began to think that she saw the why.)

"If it were so, I ought to know," said Gwendolen, with some indignation.

"You are thinking of what I said about Mr. Deronda and Sir Hugo
Mallinger. That is a very unusual case, dear."

"Does Lady Mallinger know?"

"She knows enough to satisfy her. That is quite clear, because Mr.
Deronda has lived with them."

"And people think no worse of him?"

"Well, of course he is under some disadvantage: it is not as if he were
Lady Mallinger's son. He does not inherit the property, and he is not
of any consequence in the world. But people are not obliged to know
anything about his birth; you see, he is very well received."

"I wonder whether he knows about it; and whether he is angry with his
father?"

"My dear child, why should you think of that?"

"Why?" said Gwendolen, impetuously, sitting up in her bed. "Haven't
children reason to be angry with their parents? How can they help their
parents marrying or not marrying?"

But a consciousness rushed upon her, which made her fall back again on
her pillow. It was not only what she would have felt months
before--that she might seem to be reproaching her mother for that
second marriage of hers; what she chiefly felt now was, that she had
been led on to a condemnation which seemed to make her own marriage a
forbidden thing.

There was no further talk, and till sleep came over her Gwendolen lay
struggling with the reasons against that marriage--reasons which
pressed upon