, but without any of the satisfaction
of a victory. And Theo came, but he contented himself with talking to
his mother. Something of natural diffidence or feeling prevented him
from assailing Chatty in the stronghold of that modest determination
which they all called obstinacy.

Theo came and made his mother miserable, almost commanding her to use
her authority, declaring that it would be her fault if this farce went
on,--this disreputable farce he called it; while poor Mrs. Warrender,
now as much opposed to it as he, had to bear the brunt of his objurgations
until she was driven to make a stand upon the very arguments which she
most disapproved. In the midst of all this Chatty stood firm. If she
wept, it was in the solitude of her own chamber, from which even her
mother was shut out; if she ever wavered or broke down, it was in secret.
Externally, to the view of the world, she was perfectly calm and cheerful,
fulfilling all her little duties with the composure of one who has never
known what tragedy means. A hundred eager eyes had been upon her, but
no one had been able to tell how Chatty "bore it." She said nothing to
anybody. It was thought that she held her head a little higher than
usual and was less disposed for society: but then she had never loved
society. She arranged her flowers, she took her walks, she carried
beef-tea and port wine to the sick people. She even sat down daily at
the usual hour and took out her muslin work, a height of tranquillity to
which it was indeed difficult to reach. But what woman could do, Chatty
would do, and she had accomplished even that. There are many in the
world who must act and cannot sit still, but there are also some who,
recognising action to be impossible, can wait with the whole passive
force of their being, until that passiveness becomes almost sublime.
Chatty was of this kind. Presumably she did not torment herself hour by
hour and day by day, as her mother did, by continual re-arguments of the
whole question, but if she did, she kept the process altogether to
herself.

There had been one interview, indeed, which had tried her very much, and
that had taken place a day or two after her arrival at the Warren, when
she had met Lizzie Hampson on the road. Lizzie had shrunk from the young
lady in whose life she had interfered with such extraordinary effect,
but Chatty had insisted on speaking to her, and had called her almost
imperiously. "Why do you run away? Do you think