er; but he could
have no such knowledge. Would he, without that, despise her for
marrying Grandcourt? His possible judgment of her actions was telling
on her as importunately as Klesmer's judgment of her powers; but she
found larger room for resistance to a disapproval of her marriage,
because it is easier to make our conduct seem justifiable to ourselves
than to make our ability strike others. "How can I help it?" is not our
favorite apology for incompetency. But Gwendolen felt some strength in
saying--

"How can I help what other people have done? Things would not come
right if I were to turn round now and declare that I would not marry
Mr. Grandcourt." And such turning round was out of the question. The
horses in the chariot she had mounted were going at full speed.

This mood of youthful, elated desperation had a tidal recurrence. She
could dare anything that lay before her sooner than she could choose to
go backward, into humiliation; and it was even soothing to think that
there would now be as much ill-doing in the one as in the other. But
the immediate delightful fact was the hunt, where she would see
Deronda, and where he would see her; for always lurking ready to
obtrude before other thoughts about him was the impression that he was
very much interested in her. But to-day she was resolved not to repeat
her folly of yesterday, as if she were anxious to say anything to him.
Indeed, the hunt would be too absorbing.

And so it was for a long while. Deronda was there, and within her sight
very often; but this only added to the stimulus of a pleasure which
Gwendolen had only once before tasted, and which seemed likely always
to give a delight independent of any crosses, except such as took away
the chance of riding. No accident happened to throw them together; the
run took them within convenient reach of home, and the agreeable
sombreness of the gray November afternoon, with a long stratum of
yellow light in the west, Gwendolen was returning with the company from
Diplow, who were attending her on the way to Offendene. Now the sense
of glorious excitement was over and gone, she was getting irritably
disappointed that she had had no opportunity of speaking to Deronda,
whom she would not see again, since he was to go away in a couple of
days. What was she going to say? That was not quite certain. She wanted
to speak to him. Grandcourt was by her side; Mrs. Torrington, her
husband, and another gentleman in advance; an