prompt kindness required no spur from her friend that she should go
and brace up the spirits of a little woman, whom she pitied doubly for
loving a man who was deceiving her, and not loving one who was good for
her. She went frequently to Emilia, and sat with her in the sombre hotel
drawing-room. Still, frank as she was and blunt as she affected to be,
she could not bring her tongue to speak of Wilfrid. If she had fancied
any sensitive shuddering from the name and the subject to exist, she
would have struck boldly, being capable of cruelty and, where she was
permitted to see a weakness, rather fond of striking deep. A belief in
the existence of Emilia's courage touched her to compassion. One day,
however, she said, "What is it you take to in Merthyr Powys?" and this
brought on plain speaking.

Emilia could give no reason; and it is a peculiarity of people who
ask such questions that they think a want of directness in the answer
suspicious.

Lady Charlotte said gravely, "Come, come!"

"What do you mean?" asked Emilia. "I like so many things in him."

"You don't like one thing chiefly?"

"I like--what do I like?--his kindness."

"His kindness!" This was the sort of reply to make the lady implacable.
She seldom read others shrewdly, and could not know, that near her,
Emilia thought of Wilfrid in a way that made the vault of her brain
seem to echo with jarred chords. "His kindness! What a picture is the
'grateful girl!' I have seen rows of white-capped charity children
giving a bob and a sniffle as the parson went down the ranks promising
buns. Well! his kindness! You are right in appreciating as much as you
can see. I'll tell you why I like him;--because he is a gentleman. And
you haven't got an idea how rare that animal is. Dear me! Should I be
plainer to you if I called him a Christian gentleman? It's the cant of
a detestable school, my child. It means just this--but why should I
disturb your future faith in it? The professors mainly profess to be 'a
comfort to young women,' and I suppose you will meet your comfort, and
worship them with the 'growing mind;' and I must confess that they bait
it rather cunningly; nothing else would bite. They catch almost all the
raw boys who have anything in them. But for me, Merthyr himself would
have been caught long ago. There's no absolute harm in them, only that
they're a sentimental compromise. I deny their honesty; and if
it's flatly proved, I deny their intelligence. Well!