m from the world outside. Elizabeth therefore, to
please him, went into society as usual, and forgot her heartaches, for
her brother and for herself, as best she could. Outwardly she was much
occupied in doing all that could be done--socially and even
politically--for Anderson and Mariette. She had power and she used it.
The two friends found themselves the object of one of those sudden
cordialities that open all doors, even the most difficult, and run like
a warm wave through London society. Mariette remained throughout the
ironic spectator--friendly on his own terms, but entirely rejecting,
often, the terms offered him tacitly or openly, by his English
acquaintance.

"Your ways are not mine--your ideals are not mine, God forbid they
should be!"--he seemed to be constantly saying. "But we happen to be
oxen bound under the same yoke, and dragging the same plough. No gush,
please--but at the same time no ill-will! Loyal?--to your loyalties? Oh
yes--quite sufficiently--so long as you don't ask us to let it interfere
with our loyalty to our own! Don't be such fools as to expect us to take
much interest in your Imperial orgies. But we're all right! Only let us
alone--we're all right!"

Such seemed to be the voice of this queer, kindly, satiric personality.
London generally falls into the arms of those who flout her; and
Mariette, with his militant Catholicism, and his contempt for our
governing ideals, became the fashion. As for Anderson, the contact with
English Ministers and men of affairs had but carried on the generous
process of development that Nature had designed for a strong man.
Whereas in Mariette the vigorous, self-confident English world--based on
the Protestant idea--produced a bitter and profound irritation, Anderson
seemed to find in that world something ripening and favouring that
brought out all the powers--the intellectual powers at least--of his
nature. He did his work admirably; left the impression of a "coming man"
on a great many leading persons interested in the relations between
England and Canada; and when as often happened Elizabeth and he found
themselves at the same dinner-table, she would watch the changes in him
that a larger experience was bringing about, with a heart half proud,
half miserable. As for his story, which was very commonly known, in
general society, it only added to his attractions. Mothers who were
under no anxieties lest he might want to marry their daughters, murmured
the fa