home. She
hesitated, and seemed about to ask further questions or leave a message,
but at length turned away from the door and retraced her steps slowly
and with bent head.
She knew not whether to feel glad or sorry that the interview she had
come to seek could not immediately take place. This day had been a
hard one for Adela. In the morning her mother had spoken to her
without disguise or affectation, and had told her of Mutimer's indirect
proposal. Mrs. Waltham went on to assure her that there was no hurry,
that Mutimer had consented to refrain from visits for a short time in
order that she might take counsel with herself, and that--the mother's
voice trembled on the words--absolute freedom was of course left her
to accept or refuse. But Mrs. Waltham could not pause there, though she
tried to. She went on to speak of the day's proceedings.
'Think what we may, my dear, of Mr. Mutimer's opinions, no one can deny
that he is making a most unselfish use of his wealth. We shall have
an opportunity to-day of hearing how it is regarded by those who--who
understand such questions.'
Adela implored to be allowed to remain at home instead of attending the
lecture, but on this point Mrs. Waltham was inflexible. The girl could
not offer resolute opposition in a matter which only involved an hour
or two's endurance. She sat in pale silence. Then her mother broke into
tears, bewailed herself as a luckless being, entreated her daughter's
pardon, but in the end was perfectly ready to accept Adela's
self-sacrifice.
On her return from New Wanley, Adela sat alone till tea-time, and after
that meal again went to her room. She was not one of those girls to
whom tears come as a matter of course on any occasion of annoyance or of
grief; her bright eyes had seldom been dimmed since childhood, for the
lightsomeness of her character threw off trifling troubles almost as
soon as they were felt, and of graver afflictions she had hitherto known
none since her father's death. But since the shock she received on that
day when her mother revealed Hubert Eldon's unworthiness, her emotional
life had suffered a slow change. Evil, previously known but as a dark
mystery shadowing far-off regions, had become the constant preoccupation
of her thoughts. Drawing analogies from the story of her faith, she
imaged Hubert as the angel who fell from supreme purity to a terrible
lordship of perdition. Of his sins she had the dimmest conception; she
was tol
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