that off, to subordinate it to the
necessity of getting on in the world, and securing his position: and he
was by no means sure when he questioned his own heart (which was a thing
he did seldom, knowing, like a wise man, that that shifty subject
often made queer revelations, and was not at all an easy object to
cross-examine), that the intercourse which he had again dropped into
with Elinor was not on the whole as much as he required. There was no
doubt that it kept him alive from one period to another; kept his heart
moderately light and his mind wonderfully contented--as nothing else had
ever done. He looked forward to his fortnightly or monthly visit to the
Cottage (sometimes one, and sometimes the other; he never indulged
himself so far as to go every week), and it gave him happiness enough
to tide over all the dull moments between: and if anything came in
his way and detained him even from his usual to a later train, he was
ridiculously, absurdly angry. What right had he to feel so in respect to
another man's wife? What right had he to watch the child--the child whom
he disliked so much to begin with--developing its baby faculties with an
interest he was half ashamed of, but which went on increasing? Another
man's wife and another man's child. He saw now that it was not a
wholesome thing for him, and he could never have given it up had they
remained. It had become too much a part of his living; should he not be
glad therefore that they had taken it into their own hands, and gone
away? When it suddenly occurred to John, however, that this perhaps had
some share in the ladies' hasty decision, that Mrs. Dennistoun perhaps
(all that was objectionable was attributed to this poor lady) had been
so abominably clear-sighted, so odiously presuming as to have suspected
this, his sudden blaze of anger was _foudroyant_. Perhaps she had
settled upon it for his sake, to take temptation out of his way. John
could scarcely contain himself when this view of the case flashed upon
him, although he was quite aware for himself that though it was a bitter
wrench, yet it was perhaps good for him that Elinor should go away.

It was probably this wave of fierce and, as we are aware, quite
unreasonable anger rushing over him that produced the change which
everybody saw in John's life about this time. It was about the beginning
of the season when people's enjoyments begin to multiply, and for the
first time in his life John plunged into soci