ly about her; no. But I believe that
you love her in a truer sense than you ever loved Thyrza. You love her
mind.'

'Has not Thyrza a mind?'

'You do not know it, Walter. I doubt whether you would ever know it.
Recall a letter you wrote to me, in which you dissected your own
character. It was frank and in a very great measure true. You are not
the husband for Thyrza.'

'You place Thyrza above Annabel Newthorpe?'

It was asked almost indignantly, so that Mrs. Ormonde smiled and raised
her hand.

'You, it is clear, resent it.'

He reddened. Mrs. Ormonde continued:

'I compare them merely. I don't think Thyrza will find the husband who
is worthy of her, but I think it likely that she will win more love
than you could ever give her. I have told you that she is dear to me.
To you I would give a daughter of my own with entire confidence, for
you are human and of noble impulses. But I do not wish you to marry
Thyrza. Yes, you read my thought. It is not solely the question of
love. I wish you--I have so long wished you--to marry Annabel. To
Thyrza you do not the least injustice by withholding your offer; she is
happy without you. You are entirely free to consult your own highest
interests. If I counsel wrongly, the blame is mine. But, Walter, you
must after all decide for yourself. It is a most hazardous part this
that I am playing; at least, it would be, if I did not see the facts of
the case so clearly. Rest till to-morrow; then let us sneak again.
Shall it be so?'

Egremont left The Chestnuts and walked along the shore in moonlight.
His mind had received a shock, and the sense of disturbance affected
him physically. He was obliged to move rapidly, to breathe the air.

He had left America with fixity of purpose. His plain duty was to go to
Thyrza and ask her to marry him. Be her position what it might, his own
was clear enough. He looked forward with a certain pleasure to the mere
discharge of so plain an obligation.

Mrs. Ormonde had studiously refrained from expressing any thought with
regard to the future in her letters. He quite expected that she would
repeat to him with a certain emphasis the fact of Thyrza's present
cheerfulness; but he did not anticipate serious opposition to the
course he had decided upon. Practically Thyrza had lived in preparation
for a life of refinement; Mrs. Ormonde, he concluded, knew that he
could act but in one way, and, though refusing to do so ostensibly, had
in fact been remov