rt of
abstracted way, as if not quite apprehending what she said, which
seemed to Mary a little odd, his manners in essentials being those of a
gentleman, as judged by one a little more than a lady; for there is an
unnamed degree higher than the ordinary _lady_. So Mary was left
alone--more alone than she had ever been in her life. But she did not
feel lonely, for the best of reasons--that she never fancied herself
alone, but knew that she was not. Also she had books at her command,
being one of the few who can read; and there were picture-galleries to
go to, and music-lessons to be had. Of these last she crowded in as
many as her master could be persuaded to give her--for it would be
long, she knew, before she was able to have such again.

Joseph Jasper never came near her. She could not imagine why, and was
disappointed and puzzled. To know that Ann Byrom was in the house was
not a great comfort to her--she regarded so much that Mary loved as of
earth and not of heaven. God's world even she despised, because men
called it nature, and spoke of its influences. But Mary did go up to
see her now and then. Very different she seemed from the time when
first they were at work together over Hesper's twilight dress! Ever
since Mary had made the acquaintance of her brother, she seemed to have
changed toward her. Perhaps she was jealous; perhaps she believed Mary
was confirming him in his bad ways. Just where they were all three of
one mind--just _there_ her rudimentary therefore self-sufficient
religion shut them out from her sympathy and fellowship.

Alone, and with her time at her command, Mary was more inclined than
she had ever been, except for her father's company, to go to church.
The second Sunday after Letty left her, she went to the one nearest,
and in the congregation thought she saw Joseph. A week before, she
would have waited for him as he came out, but, now that he seemed to
avoid her, she would not, and went home neither comforted by the sermon
nor comfortable with herself. For the parson, instead of recognizing,
through all defects of the actual, the pattern after which God had made
man, would fain have him remade after the pattern of the middle-age
monk--a being far superior, no doubt, to the most of his
contemporaries, but as far from the beauty of the perfect man as the
mule is from that of the horse; and she was annoyed with herself that
she was annoyed with Joseph. It was the middle of summer before the
af