ord remains, looking, if I can read
her, such a temper. On the other days I am taken by Wilfrid to the
arcades, or we hire a brougham to drive round the park,--for nothing but
the chance of seeing that girl an instant. Don't tell me it's to meet
Lady Charlotte! That lovely and obliging person it is certainly not my
duty to undeceive. She's now at Stornley, and speaks of our affairs to
everybody, I dare say. Twice a week Wilfrid--oh! quite casually!--calls
on Miss Ford, and is gratified, I suppose; for this is the
picture:--There sits Emilia, one finger in her cheek, and the thumb
under her chin, and she keeps looking down so. Opposite is Miss Ford,
doing some work--making lint for patriots, probably. Then Wilfrid,
addressing commonplaces to her; and then Emilia's father--a personage,
I assure you! up against the window, with a violin. I feel a bitter edge
on my teeth still! What do you think he does to please his daughter for
one while hour! He draws his fingers--does nothing else; she won't
let him; she won't hear a tune-up the strings in the most horrible
caterwaul, up and down. It is really like a thousand lunatics
questioning and answering, and is enough to make you mad; but there that
girl sits, listening. Exactly in this attitude--so. She scarcely ever
looks up. My brother talks, and occasionally steals a glance that way.
We passed one whole hour as I have described. In the middle of it, I
happened to look at Wilfrid's face, while the violin was wailing down. I
fancied I heard the despair of one of those huge masks in a pantomime. I
was almost choked."

When Adela had related thus much, she had to prevent downright revolt,
and spoil her own game, by stating that Wilfrid did not leave the house
for his special pleasure, and a word, as to the efforts he was making
to see Mr. Pericles, convinced the ladies that his situation was as
pitiable as their own.

Cornelia refused to obey her lover's mandate, and wrote briefly.
She would not condescend to allude to the unutterable wretchedness
afflicting her, but spoke of her duty to her father being foremost in
her prayers for strength. Sir Purcell interpreted this as indicating
the beginning of their alienation. He chided her gravely in an otherwise
pleasant letter. She was wrong to base her whole reply upon the little
sentence of reproach, but self-justification was necessary to her
spirit. Indeed, an involuntary comparison of her two suitors was
forced on her, and, dry