re was a sort of
detached thing, that did not belong to a woman. He loved Miriam with his
soul. He grew warm at the thought of Clara, he battled with her, he
knew the curves of her breast and shoulders as if they had been moulded
inside him; and yet he did not positively desire her. He would have
denied it for ever. He believed himself really bound to Miriam. If ever
he should marry, some time in the far future, it would be his duty to
marry Miriam. That he gave Clara to understand, and she said nothing,
but left him to his courses. He came to her, Mrs. Dawes, whenever
he could. Then he wrote frequently to Miriam, and visited the girl
occasionally. So he went on through the winter; but he seemed not so
fretted. His mother was easier about him. She thought he was getting
away from Miriam.

Miriam knew now how strong was the attraction of Clara for him; but
still she was certain that the best in him would triumph. His feeling
for Mrs. Dawes--who, moreover, was a married woman--was shallow and
temporal, compared with his love for herself. He would come back to her,
she was sure; with some of his young freshness gone, perhaps, but cured
of his desire for the lesser things which other women than herself could
give him. She could bear all if he were inwardly true to her and must
come back.

He saw none of the anomaly of his position. Miriam was his old friend,
lover, and she belonged to Bestwood and home and his youth. Clara was a
newer friend, and she belonged to Nottingham, to life, to the world. It
seemed to him quite plain.

Mrs. Dawes and he had many periods of coolness, when they saw little of
each other; but they always came together again.

"Were you horrid with Baxter Dawes?" he asked her. It was a thing that
seemed to trouble him.

"In what way?"

"Oh, I don't know. But weren't you horrid with him? Didn't you do
something that knocked him to pieces?"

"What, pray?"

"Making him feel as if he were nothing--I know," Paul declared.

"You are so clever, my friend," she said coolly.

The conversation broke off there. But it made her cool with him for some
time.

She very rarely saw Miriam now. The friendship between the two women was
not broken off, but considerably weakened.

"Will you come in to the concert on Sunday afternoon?" Clara asked him
just after Christmas.

"I promised to go up to Willey Farm," he replied.

"Oh, very well."

"You don't mind, do you?" he asked.

"Why should I?" she answe