remity of weariness, and now
he cared only to let things take their course, standing aside from
every shadow of new onset. Above all, he kept away as much as possible
from the house at Tottenham, where Ida was still living. To go there
meant only a renewal of torment. This was in fact the commonplace
period of his life. He had no energy above that of the ordinary young
man who is making his living in a commonplace way, and his higher
faculties lay dormant.

In one respect, and that, after all, perhaps the most important, his
position would soon be changed. Mr. Woodstock's will, when affairs were
settled, would make him richer by one thousand pounds; he might, if he
chose, presently give up his employment, and either trust to
literature, or look out for something less precarious. A year ago, this
state of things would have filed him with exultation. As it was, he
only saw in it an accident compelling him to a certain fateful duty.
There was now no reason why his marriage should be long delayed. For
Maud's sake the step was clearly desirable. At present she and her
mother were living with Miss Bygrave in the weird old house. Of Paul
there had come no tidings. Their home was of course broken up, and they
had no income of their own to depend upon. Maud herself, though of
course aware of Waymark's prospects, seemed to shrink from speaking of
the future. She grew more and more uncertain as to her real thoughts
and desires.

And what of Ida? It was hard for her to realise her position; for a
time she was conscious only of an overwhelming sense of loneliness. The
interval of life with her grandfather was dreamlike as she looked back
upon it; yet harder to grasp was the situation in which she now found
herself, surrounded by luxuries which had come to her as if from the
clouds, her own mistress, free to form wishes merely for the sake of
satisfying them. She cared little to realise the minor possibilities of
wealth. The great purpose, the noble end to which her active life had
shaped itself, was sternly present before her; she would not shirk its
demands. But there was lacking the inspiration of joy. Could she harden
herself to every personal desire, and forget, in devotion to others,
the sickness of one great hope deferred? Did her ideal require this of
her?

Would he come, now that she was free to give herself where she would,
now that she was so alone? The distance between them had increased ever
since the beginning of he