at I felt afraid and ashamed of entering into further
contests with him. There seemed to be more dignity in
submitting, to a certain extent, to his demands, than in
renewing those harassing scenes which we had so often gone
through. I allowed him, day after day, to sit for hours alone
with me; to read to me the most exciting books; to discuss
with me subjects of the deepest interest; and to talk of his
attachment to me in a way which I now never attempted to
check.

Nothing could be more baneful to my character than such a
state of things. The very struggle to appear better than I was
in Edward's eyes, wearisome as I often found it, kept up a
certain degree of straining after better things, and some
remorse at the contrast which the reality presented to the
outward appearance.

With Henry, on the contrary, there was no necessity to conceal
the evil that was in me; and the more I gave way to the
waywardness and impetuosity of my undisciplined character, the
more he fed me with that most insidious of poisons, the
constant homage of a blind and passionate admiration.

The beginning of that winter in London was one of those
periods of false peace which sometimes occur in our lives. My
hardened conscience, like the guilty prophet's of old,
prophesied peace where there was no peace, and spoke smooth
things while destruction was hovering around me. Now and then
I made an attempt (not to repulse Henry, in very pride I dared
not begin another contest with him, but) to see more of Alice,
and to re-establish between us our former habitual
intercourse; but there were dangers and difficulties in this
which I could hardly surmount. As the time of her confinement
drew near, she would seldom leave her own house; and her
grandmother occasionally visited her there, which, during the
preceding year, she had not done. I therefore never paid her a
visit without previously ascertaining from Henry if there was
any chance of meeting with this old woman, which I dreaded
beyond expression; and while I was with her I could not
command a restless nervousness which she evidently attributed
to another cause. She was neither unkind nor repulsive in her
manner to me, but a shade of coldness and reserve showed me
that her eyes were, to a certain extent, opened. With regard
to Edward, Henry practised a degree of caution which, though I
did not dare counteract it, disgusted me at times with him and
with myself. His self-command was complete; and