ack. Suddenly he was checked by the sound of voices,
which seemed to come from a lower level just in front of him. Cautiously
he stepped forward, till he could see through hazel bushes that there
was a steep descent before him. Below, two persons were engaged in
conversation, and he could hear every word.

The two were Adela and Hubert Eldon. Adela had come to sit for the last
time in the green retreat which was painfully dear to her. Her husband's
absence gave her freedom; she used it to avoid the Rodmans and to
talk with herself. She F was, as we may conjecture, far from looking
cheerfully into the future. Nor was she content with herself, with her
behaviour in the drama of these two days. In thinking over the scene
with her husband she experienced a shame before her conscience which
could not at first be readily accounted for, for of a truth she had
felt no kind of shame in steadfastly resisting Mutimer's dishonourable
impulse. But she saw now that in the judgment of one who could read all
her heart she would not come off with unmingled praise. Had there not
been another motive at work in her besides zeal for honour? Suppose the
man benefiting by the will had been another than Hubert Eldon? Surely
that would not have affected her behaviour? Not in practice, doubtless;
but here was a question of feeling, a scrutiny of the soul's hidden
velleities. No difference in action, be sure; that must ever be upright
But what of the heroism in this particular case? The difference declared
itself; here there had been no heroism whatever. To strip herself and
her husband when a moment's winking would have kept them well clad? Yes,
but on whose behalf? Had there not been a positive pleasure in making
herself poor that Hubert might be rich? There was the fatal element
in the situation. She came out of the church palpitating with joy; the
first assurance of her husband's ignominious yielding to temptation
filled her with, not mere scorn, but with dread. Had she not been guilty
of mock nobleness in her voice, her bearing? At the time she did
not feel it, for the thought of Hubert was kept altogether in the
background. Yes, but she saw now how it had shed light and warmth upon
her; the fact was not to be denied, because her consciousness had not
then included it She was shamed.

A pity, is it not? It were so good to have seen her purely noble,
indignant with unmixed righteousness. But, knowing our Adela's heart,
is it not even sweeter