haps the two things were not incompatible.
Hamilton had never written verses, as far as she knew. No doubt that
Miss Abercrombie his father married was responsible for the poetry. If
he had married another Miss Abercrombie it might have been quite
different. She found it convenient to utilise a second example of the
same name; some suppositions are more convenient than others. She
shirked one which would have cancelled Gwen, as an impossibility. One
_must_ look accomplished facts in the face.

The cooling down did not start with the alacrity which her ladyship had
anticipated. She had expected a fall of at least one degree in the
thermometer within a couple of months. Time seems long or short to us in
proportion as we are, so to speak, brought up against it. Only the
unwatched pot boils over; and, broadly speaking, pudding never cools,
and blowing really does very little good. This lady would have _blown_
her daughter metaphorically--perhaps thrown cold water on her passion
would be a better metaphor--if her husband had not earnestly dissuaded
her from doing so. It would only make matters worse. If Gwen was to
marry a blind man, at least do not let her do it in order to contradict
her parents. Fights and Love Affairs alike are grateful to bystanders
who do not interfere; but interference is admissible in the former, to
assist waverers up to the scratch. In the latter, the sooner time is
called, the better for all parties. But if time is called too soon, ten
to one the next round will last twice as long.

The Earl also interposed upon his wife's attempt to stipulate for a
formal declaration of reciprocal banishment. "Very well, my dear
Philippa!" said he. "Forbid their meeting, if you like! You can do it,
because Adrian is bound in honour to forward it if we insist. But in my
opinion you will by doing so destroy the last chance of the thing dying
a natural death." Said Philippa:--"I don't believe you want it to"--a
construction denounced, we believe, by sensitive grammarians. The Earl
let it pass, replying:--"I do not wish it to die a violent death." Her
ladyship dropped the portcullis of her mind against a crowd of useless
reflections. One was, whether her own relation with this young man's
father had died a violent death; and, if so, was she any the worse? The
rest were a motley crowd, with "might have been!" tattooed upon their
brows and woven into the patterns of the garments. Among them, two
images--a potential Adr