yond his means (in the
manner so often described by Morphew), Mr. Winter had left his family
as good as unprovided for. There was money to be divided between mother
and daughter, but so small a sum that it could not be regarded as a
source of income. To the widow was bequeathed furniture; to Henrietta,
a library of two thousand volumes; _finally_, the testator directed
that the sum of five hundred pounds should be spent on a window of
stained glass (concerning which full particulars were given), to be set
up, in memory of himself, in the church he had been wont to honour with
his pious attendance. This item of her husband's will had so embittered
Mrs. Winter, that she hardly ever spoke of him; if obliged to do so, it
was with cold severity that she uttered his name. Immediately, she
withdrew all opposition to Henrietta's marriage with the man she had
considered so objectionable; she would not have been sorry had her
daughter chosen to be married with the least possible delay. As for the
future, of course she must live in her daughter's house; together, they
must make what they could of their small capital, and hope that Cecil's
business would prosper.

Harvey had been acquainted with these facts since Mr. Winter's death.
Bearing them in mind as he talked with Henrietta, and exerting his
powers of observation to the utmost, he still found himself as far as
ever from a definite opinion as to the wisdom of the coming marriage.
That Mrs. Winter would be a great obstacle to happiness admitted of no
doubt; but Henrietta herself might or might not prove equal to the
change of circumstances. Evidently one of her characteristics was an
extreme conscientiousness; it explained, perhaps, her long inability to
decide between the claims of parents and lover. Her tastes in
literature threw some light upon the troubles which had beset her; she
was a student of George Eliot, and spoke of the ethical problems with
which that author is mainly concerned, in a way suggestive of
self-revelation. Conversing for the first time with Morphew's friend,
and finding him sufficiently intelligent, she might desire to offer
some indirect explanation of the course she had followed. Harvey could
not question her sincerity, but she seemed to him a trifle morbid. It
might be natural reaction, in a temper such as hers, against the
monstrous egotism by which her life had been subdued and shadowed. She
inclined to mystical views; mentioned Christina Rossetti