not have minded keeping at a distance," said Deronda.

"It's a sort of troubadour story," said Lady Pentreath, an easy,
deep-voiced old lady; "I'm glad to find a little romance left among us.
I think our young people now are getting too worldly wise."

"It shows the Arrowpoints' good sense, however, to have adopted the
affair, after the fuss in the paper," said Sir Hugo. "And disowning
your own child because of a _mesalliance_ is something like disowning
your one eye: everybody knows it's yours, and you have no other to make
an appearance with."

"As to _mesalliance_, there's no blood on any side," said Lady
Pentreath. "Old Admiral Arrowpoint was one of Nelson's men, you know--a
doctor's son. And we all know how the mother's money came."

"If they were any _mesalliance_ in the case, I should say it was on
Klesmer's side," said Deronda.

"Ah, you think it is a case of the immortal marrying the mortal. What
is your opinion?" said Sir Hugo, looking at Gwendolen.

"I have no doubt that Herr Klesmer thinks himself immortal. But I dare
say his wife will burn as much incense before him as he requires," said
Gwendolen. She had recovered any composure that she might have lost.

"Don't you approve of a wife burning incense before her husband?" said
Sir Hugo, with an air of jocoseness.

"Oh, yes," said Gwendolen, "if it were only to make others believe in
him." She paused a moment and then said with more gayety, "When Herr
Klesmer admires his own genius, it will take off some of the absurdity
if his wife says Amen."

"Klesmer is no favorite of yours, I see," said Sir Hugo.

"I think very highly of him, I assure you," said Gwendolen. "His genius
is quite above my judgment, and I know him to be exceedingly generous."

She spoke with the sudden seriousness which is often meant to correct
an unfair or indiscreet sally, having a bitterness against Klesmer in
her secret soul which she knew herself unable to justify. Deronda was
wondering what he should have thought of her if he had never heard of
her before: probably that she put on a little hardness and defiance by
way of concealing some painful consciousness--if, indeed, he could
imagine her manners otherwise than in the light of his suspicion. But
why did she not recognize him with more friendliness?

Sir Hugo, by way of changing the subject, said to her, "Is not this a
beautiful room? It was part of the refectory of the Abbey. There was a
division made by those pillars