she thought of herself. And he had
robbed her! But that she had forgiven; and, having forgiven it, was
too generous to count it for anything. But, nevertheless, she was
ambitious. Might there not be a better, even than Mr Rubb?

Mr Maguire squinted horribly; so horribly that the form and face of
the man hardly left any memory of themselves except the memory of
the squint. His dark hair, his one perfect eye, his good figure,
his expressive mouth, were all lost in that dreadful perversion of
vision. It was a misfortune so great as to justify him in demanding
that he should be judged by different laws than those which are used
as to the conduct of the world at large. In getting a wife he might
surely use his tongue with more freedom than another man, seeing that
his eye was so much against him. If he were somewhat romantic in his
talk, or even more than romantic, who could find fault with him?
And if he used his clerical vocation to cover the terrors of that
distorted pupil, can any woman say that he should be therefore
condemned? Miss Mackenzie could not forget his eye, but she thought
that she had almost brought herself to forgive it. And, moreover,
he was a gentleman, not only by Act of Parliament, but in outward
manners. Were she to become Mrs Maguire, Miss Baker would certainly
come to her house, and it might be given to her to rival Mrs
Stumfold--in running which race she would be weighted by no Mr
Peters.

It is true that Mr Maguire had never asked her to marry him, but she
believed that he would ask her if she gave him any encouragement. Now
it was to come to pass, by a wonderful arrangement of circumstances,
that she was to meet these two gentlemen together. It might well be,
that on this very occasion, she must choose whether it should be
either or neither.

Mr Rubb came, and she looked anxiously at his dress. He had on bright
yellow kid gloves, primrose he would have called them, but, if there
be such things as yellow gloves, they were yellow; and she wished
that she had the courage to ask him to take them off. This was beyond
her, and there he sat, with his gloves almost as conspicuous as Mr
Maguire's eye. Should she, however, ever become Mrs Rubb, she would
not find the gloves to be there permanently; whereas the eye would
remain. But then the gloves were the fault of the one man, whereas
the eye was simply the misfortune of the other. And Mr Rubb's hair
was very full of perfumed grease, and sat on each si