eginning to fascinate and absorb himself. But their
standards were now so different that she was constantly shrinking from
what attracted him, or painfully judging what was to him merely curious
and interesting. He was really more and more oppressed by her
intellectual limitations, though never consciously would he have allowed
himself to admit them, and she was more and more bewildered by what
constantly seemed to her a breaking up of principle, a relaxation of
moral fibre.

And the work among the poor was difficult. Robert instinctively felt
that for him to offer his services in charitable work to the narrow
Evangelical, whose church Catherine had joined, would have been merely
to invite rebuff. So that even in the love and care of the unfortunate
they were separated. For he had not yet found a sphere of work, and, if
he had, Catherine's invincible impulse in these matters was always to
attach herself to the authorities and powers that be. He could only
acquiesce when she suggested applying to Mr. Clarendon for some
charitable occupation for herself.

After her letter to him, Catherine had an interview with the vicar at
his home. She was puzzled by the start and sudden pause for recollection
with which he received her name, the tone of compassion which crept into
his talk with her, the pitying look and grasp of the hand with which he
dismissed her. Then, as she walked home, it flashed upon her that she
had seen a copy, some weeks old, of the _Record_ lying on the good man's
table, the very copy which contained Robert's name among the list of men
who during the last ten years had thrown up the Anglican ministry. The
delicate face flushed miserably from brow to chin. Pitied for being
Robert's wife! Oh, monstrous!--incredible!

Meanwhile Robert, man-like, in spite of all the griefs and sorenesses of
the position, had immeasurably the best of it. In the first place such
incessant activity of mind as his is in itself both tonic and narcotic.
It was constantly generating in him fresh purposes and hopes, constantly
deadening regret, and pushing the old things out of sight. He was full
of many projects, literary and social, but they were all in truth the
fruits of one long experimental process, the passionate attempt of the
reason to justify to itself the God in whom the heart believed. Abstract
thought, as Mr. Grey saw, had had comparatively little to do with
Elsmere's relinquishment of the Church of England. But as soon a