nd there imitatively spread
a wing, and treat men in that way? It is a breach of the convention; we
pay them our homage, that they may serve as flowers, not to be volatile
tempters. Nataly never had been one of the sort: Lady Grace was. No
necessity existed for compelling the world to bow to Lady Grace, while
on behalf of his Nataly he had to... Victor closed the curtain over a
gulf-revealed by an invocation of Nature, and showing the tremendous
force he partook of so largely, in her motive elements of the
devourer. Horrid to behold, when we need a gracious presentation of the
circumstances. She is a splendid power for as long as we confine her
between the banks: but she has a passion to discover cracks; and if we
give her headway, she will find one, and drive at it, and be through,
uproarious in her primitive licentiousness, unless we labour body and
soul like Dutchmen at the dam. Here she was, and not desired, almost
detested! Nature detested! It had come about through the battle for
Nataly; chiefly through Mrs. Burman's tenacious hold of the filmy thread
she took for life and was enabled to use as a means for the perversion
besides bar to the happiness of creatures really living. We may well
marvel at the Fates, and tell them they are not moral agents!

Victor's reflections came across Colney Durance, who tripped and stopped
them.

Dressed with his customary celerity, he waited for Nesta, to show her
the lighted grand double drawing-room: a further proof of how Fortune
favoured him: she was to be told, how he one day expressed a wish for
greater space, and was informed on the next, that the neighbour house
was being vacated, and the day following he was in treaty for the
purchase of it; returning from Tyrol, he found his place habitable.

Nesta came. Her short look at him was fond, her voice not faltering; she
laid her hand under his arm and walked round the spacious room,
praising the general design, admiring the porcelain, the ferns, friezes,
hangings, and the grand piano, the ebony inlaid music-stands, the
firegrates and plaques, the ottomans, the tone of neutral colour that,
as in sound, muted splendour. He told her it was a reception night, with
music: and added: 'I miss my... seen anybody lately?'

'Mr. Sowerby?' said she. 'He was to have escorted me back. He may have
overslept himself.'

She spoke it plainly; when speaking of the dear good ladies, she set
a gentle humour at play, and comforted him, as she