hed at all, neither had she any share in the passion
of displeasure which filled the father and mother. Yet she was in a
disturbance almost as complete as theirs. It was a bitter and secret
trouble, which as a woman she had to keep to herself, over which her
head bowed as she knelt there. Just for that minute she might bow her
head and confess to her trouble, while no one could see; and her head,
poor girl, went low. She did not in the least approve of Pitt's
proceedings; she did not sympathize with his motives; at the same time
they did not make her like him the less. On the contrary, and Betty
felt it was on the contrary, she could not help admiring his bravery,
and she was almost ready to worship his strength. Somebody brave enough
to avow truth that is unwelcome, and strong enough to do what goes
against the grain with himself; such a person is not to be met with
every day, and usually excites the profound respect of his fellows,
even when they do not like him. But Betty liked this one, and liked him
the more for doing the things she disliked, and it drove her to the
bounds of desperation to feel that in the engrossment of his new
principles he was carried away from her, and out of her power. Added to
all this was the extreme strangeness of the present experience.
Absolutely kneeling round the dinner-table!--kneeling to pray! Betty
had never known such a thing, nor conceived the possibility of such a
thing. In an unconsecrated place, led by unconsecrated lips, in words
nowhere set down; what could equal the irregularity and the
impropriety? The two women, in their weakness, kneeling, and the master
of the house showing by his unmoved posture that he disallowed the
whole thing! Incongruous! unfortunate! I am bound to say that Betty
understood little of the words she so disapproved; the sea under a
stormy wind is not more uneasy than was her spirit; and towards the end
her one special thought and effort was bent upon quieting the
commotion, and at least appearing unmoved. She was pretty safe, for the
other members of the family had each enough to busy him without taking
much note of her.

Pitt had but a day or two more to stay; and Miss Frere felt an
irresistible impulse to force him into at least one talk more. She
hardly knew what she expected, or what she wished from it; only, to let
him go so, without one more word, was unbearable. She wanted to get
nearer to him, if she could, if she might not bring him nearer to