第6章

Itworriedhimthatpostscript.Hecouldnotmakeoutforalongtimewhyitworriedhim.Suddenly，inawasteofendlesssnows，theexplanationflashedacrosshim.Sylviaoftheletterswasalivingwoman！Shecouldtravel——withabox，hesupposed，possiblywithtwoorthree，andparcels.Couldtaketickets，walkupagangway，staggeraboutadeckfeeling，maybe，alittleseasick.Alltheseyearshehadbeenlivingwithherindreamlandshehadbeen，ifhehadonlyknownit，aMissSomebody—or—other，whomusthavestoodeverymorninginfrontofalooking—glasswithhairpinsinhermouth.Hehadneverthoughtofherdoingthesethings;itshockedhim.Hecouldnothelpfeelingitwasindelicateofher——comingtolifeinthissudden，uncalled—formanner.

Hestruggledwiththisnewconceptionofher，andhadalmostforgivenher，whenafurtherandstillmorestartlingsuggestionarrivedtoplaguehim.Ifshereallylivedwhyshouldhenotseeher，speaktoher？Solongasshehadremainedinherhiddentemple，situateinthevaguerecessesofLondon，S.E.，herlettershadcontentedhim.Butnowthatshehadmoved，nowthatshewasnolongeravoicebutawoman！Well，itwouldbeinterestingtoseewhatshewaslike.Heimaginedtheintroduction："MissSomebody—

or—other，allowmetopresentyoutoMr.MatthewPole."ShewouldhavenoideahewasAstonRowant.Ifshehappenedtobeyoung，beautiful，inallwayssatisfactory，hewouldannouncehimself.Howastonished，howdelightedshewouldbe.

Butifnot！Ifshewereelderly，plain？Thewisest，wittiestofwomenhavebeenknowntohaveanincipientmoustache.Abeautifulspiritcan，andsometimesdoes，lookoutofgoggleeyes.Supposeshesufferedfromindigestionandhadashinynose！Wouldherletterseveragainhavethesamecharmforhim？Absurdthattheyshouldnot.Butwouldthey？

Theriskwastoogreat.Givingthematterlongandcarefulconsideration，hedecidedtosendherbackintodreamland.

Butsomehowshewouldnotgobackintodreamland，wouldpersistinremaininginNewYork，aliving，breathingwoman.

Yetevenso，howcouldhefindher？Hemight，say，inapoemconveytoherhisdesireforameeting.Wouldshecomply？Andifshedid，whatwouldbehisposition，supposingtheinspectiontoresultunfavourablyforher？Couldhe，ineffect，saytoher："Thankyouforlettingmehavealookatyou;thatisallIwanted.Good—bye"？

Shemust，sheshouldremainindreamland.Hewouldforgetherpostscript;infuturethrowherenvelopesunglancedatintothewastepaperbasket.HavingbythissimpleexerciseofhiswillreplacedherinLondon，hehimselfstartedforNewYork——onhiswaybacktoEurope，sohetoldhimself.Still，beinginNewYork，therewasnoreasonfornotlingeringthereawhile，ifmerelytorenewoldmemories.

Ofcourse，ifhehadreallywantedtofindSylviaitwouldhavebeeneasyfromthedateupontheenvelopetohavediscoveredtheship"sailingthefollowingSaturday."Passengerswerecompelledtoregistertheirnamesinfull，andtostatetheirintendedmovementsafterarrivalinAmerica.SylviawasnotacommonChristianname.

Bythehelpofafive—dollarbillortwo——.Theideahadnotoccurredtohimbefore.Hedismisseditfromhismindandsoughtaquiethoteluptown.

NewYorkwaschangedlessthanhehadanticipated.WestTwentiethStreetinparticularwaspreciselyas，leaningoutofthecabwindow，hehadlookedbackuponittenyearsago.Businesshadmoreandmoretakenpossessionofit，buthadnotasyetaltereditsappearance.HisconsciencesmotehimasheturnedthecornerthathehadneveroncewrittentoAnn.Hehadmeantto，itgoeswithoutsaying，butduringthosefirstyearsofstruggleandfailurehispridehadheldhimback.Shehadalwaysthoughthimafool;hehadfeltshedid.Hewouldwaittillhecouldwritetoherofsuccess，ofvictory.Andthenwhenithadslowly，almostimperceptibly，arrived——！Hewonderedwhyheneverhad.Quiteanicelittlegirl，insomerespects.Ifonlyshehadbeenlessconceited，lessself—willed.Alsoratheraprettygirlshehadshownsignsofbecoming.Thereweretimes——Herememberedaneveningbeforethelampswerelighted.ShehadfallenasleepcurledupinAbner’seasychair，onesmallhandrestinguponthearm.Shehadalwayshadquiteattractivehands——alittletoothin.Somethinghadmovedhimtostealacrosssoftlywithoutwakingher.Hesmiledatthememory.

Andthenhereyes，beneaththelevelbrows！ItwassurprisinghowAnnwascomingbacktohim.Perhapstheywouldbeabletotellhim，thepeopleofthehouse，whathadbecomeofher.Iftheyweredecentpeopletheywouldlethimwanderroundawhile.HewouldexplainthathehadlivedthereinAbnerHerrick’stime.TheroomwheretheyhadsometimesbeenagreeabletooneanotherwhileAbner，pretendingtoread，hadsatwatchingthemoutofthecornerofaneye.Hewouldliketositthereforafewmoments，byhimself.

Heforgotthathehadrungthebell.Averyyoungservanthadansweredthedoorandwasstaringathim.Hewouldhavewalkedinifthesmallservanthadnotplantedherselfdeliberatelyinhisway.Itrecalledhimtohimself.

"Ibegpardon，"saidMatthew，"butwouldyoupleasetellmewholiveshere？"

Thesmallservantlookedhimupanddownwithgrowingsuspicion.

"MissKavanaghliveshere，"shesaid."Whatdoyouwant？"

Thesurprisewassogreatitrenderedhimspeechless.Inanothermomentthesmallservantwouldhaveslammedthedoor.

"MissAnnKavanagh？"heinquired，justintime.

"That’shername，"admittedthesmallservant，lesssuspicious.

"WillyoupleasetellherMr.Pole——Mr.MatthewPole，"herequested.

"I’llseefirstifsheisin，"saidthesmallservant，andshutthedoor.

ItgaveMatthewafewminutestorecoverhimself，forwhichhewasglad.Thenthedooropenedagainsuddenly.

"Youaretocomeupstairs，"saidthesmallservant.

ItsoundedsolikeAnnthatitquiteputhimathisease.Hefollowedthesmallservantupthestairs.

"Mr.MatthewPole，"sheannouncedseverely，andclosedthedoorbehindhim.

Annwasstandingbythewindowandcametomeethim.ItwasinfrontofAbner’semptychairthattheyshookhands.

"Soyouhavecomebacktotheoldhouse，"saidMatthew.

"Yes，"sheanswered."Itneverletwell.ThelastpeoplewhohaditgaveitupatChristmas.Itseemedthebestthingtodo，evenfromapurelyeconomicalpointofview.

"Whathaveyoubeendoingalltheseyears？"sheaskedhim.

"Oh，knockingabout，"heanswered."Earningmyliving."HewascurioustodiscoverwhatshethoughtofMatthew，firstofall.

"Itseemstohaveagreedwithyou，"shecommented，withaglancethattookhimingenerally，includinghisclothes.

"Yes，"heanswered."IhavehadmoreluckthanperhapsIdeserved."

"Iamgladofthat，"saidAnn.

Helaughed."Soyouhaven’tchangedsoverymuch，"hesaid.

"Exceptinappearance.

"Isn’tthatthemostimportantpartofawoman？"suggestedAnn.

"Yes，"heanswered，thinking."Isupposeitis."

Shewascertainlyverybeautiful.

"HowlongareyoustoppinginNewYork？"sheaskedhim.

"Oh，notlong，"heexplained.

"Don’tleaveitforanothertenyears，"shesaid，"beforelettingmeknowwhatishappeningtoyou.Wedidn’tgetonverywelltogetheraschildren;butwemustn’tlethimthinkwe’renotfriends.Itwouldhurthim."

Shespokequiteseriously，asifshewereexpectinghimanymomenttoopenthedoorandjointhem.InvoluntarilyMatthewglancedroundtheroom.Nothingseemedaltered.Theworncarpet，thefadedcurtains，Abner’seasychair，hispipeuponthecornerofthemantelpiecebesidethevaseofspills.

"Itiscurious，"hesaid，"findingthisveinoffancy，oftendernessinyou.Ialwaysregardedyouassuchapractical，unsentimentalyoungperson."

"Perhapsweneitherofuskneweachothertoowell，inthosedays，"

sheanswered.

Thesmallservantenteredwiththetea.

"Whathaveyoubeendoingwithyourself？"heasked，drawinghischairuptothetable.

Shewaitedtillthesmallservanthadwithdrawn.

"Oh，knockingabout，"sheanswered."Earningmyliving."

"Itseemstohaveagreedwithyou，"herepeated，smiling.

"It’sallrightnow，"sheanswered."Itwasabitofastruggleatfirst."

"Yes，"heagreed."Lifedoesn’ttemperthewindtothehumanlamb.

Butwasthereanyneedinyourcase？"heasked."Ithought——"

"Oh，thatallwent，"sheexplained."Exceptthehouse."

"I’msorry，"saidMatthew."Ididn’tknow."

"Oh，wehavebeenacoupleofpigs，"shelaughed，replyingtohisthoughts."Ididsometimesthinkofwritingyou.Ikepttheaddressyougaveme.Notforanyassistance;Iwantedtofightitoutformyself.ButIwasabitlonely."

"Whydidn’tyou？"heasked.

Shehesitatedforamoment.

"It’srathersoontomakeupone’smind，"shesaid，"butyouseemtometohavechanged.Yourvoicesoundssodifferent.Butasaboy——

well，youwereabitofaprig，weren’tyou？Iimaginedyouwritingmegoodadviceandexcellentshortsermons.Anditwasn’tthatthatIwaswanting."

"IthinkIunderstand，"hesaid."I’mgladyougotthrough.

"Whatisyourline？"heasked."Journalism？"

"No，"sheanswered."Tooself—opinionated."

Sheopenedabureauthathadalwaysbeenherownandhandedhimaprogramme."MissAnnKavanagh，Contralto，"wasannouncedonitasoneofthechiefattractions.

"Ididn’tknowyouhadavoice，"saidMatthew.

"Youusedtocomplainofit，"sheremindedhim.

"Yourspeakingvoice，"hecorrectedher."Anditwasn’tthequalityofthatIobjectedto.Itwasthequantity."

Shelaughed.

"Yes，wekeptourselvesprettybusybringingoneanotherup，"sheadmitted.

Theytalkedawhilelonger：ofAbnerandhiskind，quaintways;ofoldfriends.Annhadlosttouchwithmostofthem.ShehadstudiedsinginginBrussels，andafterwardshermasterhadmovedtoLondonandshehadfollowedhim.ShehadonlyjustlatelyreturnedtoNewYork.

Thesmallservantenteredtoclearawaytheteathings.ShesaidshethoughtthatAnnhadrung.Hertoneimpliedthatanyhowitwastimeshehad.MatthewroseandAnnheldoutherhand.

"Ishallbeattheconcert，"hesaid.

"Itisn’ttillnextweek，"Annremindedhim.

"Oh，I’mnotinanyparticularhurry，"saidMatthew."Areyougenerallyinofanafternoon？"

"Sometimes，"saidAnn.

Hethoughtashesatwatchingherfromhisstallthatshewasoneofthemostbeautifulwomenhehadeverseen.Hervoicewasnotgreat.

Shehadwarnedhimnottoexpecttoomuch.

"ItwillneversettheThamesonfire，"shehadsaid."Ithoughtatfirstthatitwould.ButsuchasitisIthankGodforit."

Itwasworththat.Itwassweetandclearandhadatenderquality.

Matthewwaitedforherattheend.Shewasfeelingwelldisposedtowardsallcreaturesandacceptedhissuggestionofsupperwithgraciouscondescension.

Hehadcalledonheronceortwiceduringtheprecedingdays.Itwasduetoherafterhislongneglectofher，hetoldhimself，andhadfoundimprovementinher.Butto—nightsheseemedtotakeafreakishpleasureinlettinghimseethattherewasmuchoftheoldAnnstillleftinher：thefrankconceitofher;theamazingself—opinionatednessofher;thewaywardness，thewilfulness，theunreasonablenessofher;thegeneraluppishnessanddictatorialnessofher;thecontradictorinessandflatimpertinenceofher;theswifttemperandexasperatingtongueofher.

Itwasalmostasifshewerewarninghim."Yousee，Iamnotchanged，except，asyousay，inappearance.IamstillAnnwithalltheoldfaultsandfailingsthatoncemadelifeinthesamehousewithmeaconstanttrialtoyou.Justnowmyveryimperfectionsappearcharms.Youhavebeenlookingatthesun——atthegloryofmyface，atthewonderofmyarmsandhands.Youreyesareblinded.

Butthatwillpass.AndunderneathIamstillAnn.JustAnn."

Theyhadquarrelledinthecabonthewayhome.Heforgotwhatitwasabout，butAnnhadsaidsomequiterudethings，andherfacenotbeingthereinthedarknesstoexcuseher，ithadmadehimveryangry.Shehadlaughedagainonthesteps，andtheyhadshakenhands.ButwalkinghomethroughthestillstreetsSylviahadpluckedathiselbow.

Whatfoolswemortalsbe——especiallymen！Herewasanoblewoman——arestful，understanding，tenderlylovingwoman;awomanasnearlyapproachingperfectionasitwassafeforawomantogo！Thismarvellouswomanwaswaitingforhimwithoutstretchedarms（whyshouldhedoubtit？）——andjustbecauseNaturehadatlastsucceededinmakingatemporarysuccessofAnn’sskinandhadfashionedaroundedlineabovehershoulder—blade！Itmadehimquitecrosswithhimself.Tenyearsagoshehadbeengawkyandsallow—complexioned.

Tenyearshenceshemightcatchtheyellowjaundiceandloseitall.

PassagesinSylvia’slettersreturnedtohim.Herememberedthatfar—offeveninginhisParisatticwhenshehadknockedathisdoorwithhergreatgiftofthanks.Recalledhowhersoftshadowhandhadstilledhispain.HespentthenexttwodayswithSylvia.Here—readallherletters，livedagainthescenesandmoodsinwhichhehadrepliedtothem.

Herpersonalitystilldefiedtheeffortsofhisimagination，butheendedbyconvincinghimselfthathewouldknowherwhenhesawher.

ButcountingupthewomenonFifthAvenuetowardswhomhehadfeltinstinctivelydrawn，andfindingthatthenumberhadalreadyreachedeleven，begantodoubthisintuition.OnthemorningofthethirddayhemetAnnbychanceinabookseller’sshop.Herbackwastowardshim.ShewasglancingthroughAstonRowant’slatestvolume.

"WhatI，"saidthecheerfulyoungladywhowasattendingtoher，"likeabouthimisthatheunderstandswomensowell."

"WhatIlikeabouthim，"saidAnn，"isthathedoesn’tpretendto."

"There’ssomethinginthat，"agreedthecheerfulyounglady."Theysayhe’shereinNewYork."

Annlookedup.

"SoI’vebeentold，"saidthecheerfulyounglady.

"Iwonderwhathe’slike？"saidAnn.

"Hewroteforalongtimeunderanothername，"volunteeredthecheerfulyounglady."He’squiteanelderlyman."

ItirritatedMatthew.Hespokewithoutthinking.

"No，heisn’t，"hesaid."He’squiteyoung."

Theladiesturnedandlookedathim.

"Youknowhim？"queriedAnn.Shewasmostastonished，andappeareddisbelieving.Thatirritatedhimfurther.

"Ifyoucareaboutit，"hesaid."Iwillintroduceyoutohim."

Annmadenoanswer.Heboughtacopyofthebookforhimself，andtheywentouttogether.Theyturnedtowardsthepark.

Annseemedthoughtful."WhatishedoinghereinNewYork？"shewondered.

"LookingforaladynamedSylvia，"answeredMatthew.

Hethoughtthetimewascometobreakittoherthathewasagreatandfamousman.Thenperhapsshewouldbesorryshehadsaidwhatshehadsaidinthecab.Seeinghehadmadeuphismindthathisrelationshiptoherinthefuturewouldbethatofanaffectionatebrother，therewouldbenoharminalsolettingherknowaboutSylvia.Thatalsomightbegoodforher.

TheywalkedtwoblocksbeforeAnnspoke.Matthew，anticipatingapleasurableconversation，feltnodesiretohastenmatters.

"Howintimateareyouwithhim？"shedemanded."Idon’tthinkhewouldhavesaidthattoamereacquaintance."

"I’mnotamereacquaintance，"saidMatthew."I’veknownhimalongtime."

"Younevertoldme，"complainedAnn.

"Didn’tknowitwouldinterestyou，"repliedMatthew.

Hewaitedforfurtherquestions，buttheydidnotcome.AtThirty—

fourthStreethesavedherfrombeingrunoverandkilled，andagainatForty—secondStreet.Justinsidetheparkshestoppedabruptlyandheldoutherhand.

"Tellhim，"shereplied，"thatifheisreallyseriousaboutfindingSylvia，Imay——Idon’tsayIcan——butImaybeabletohelphim."

Hedidnottakeherhand，butstoodstockstillinthemiddleofthepathandstaredather.

"You！"hesaid."Youknowher？"

Shewaspreparedforhissurprise.Shewasalsoprepared——notwithalie，thatimpliesevilintention.Heronlyobjectwastohaveatalkwiththegentlemanandseewhathewaslikebeforedecidingonherfutureproceedings——letussay，withaplausiblestory.

"Wecrossedonthesameboat，"shesaid."Wefoundtherewasagooddealincommonbetweenus.She——shetoldmethings."Whenyoucametothinkitoutitwasalmostthetruth.

"Whatisshelike？"demandedMatthew.

"Oh，just——well，notexactly——"Itwasanawkwardquestion.Therecametoherreliefthereflectionthattherewasreallynoneedforhertoanswerit.

"What’sitgottodowithyou？"shesaid.

"IamAstonRowant，"saidMatthew.

TheCentralPark，togetherwiththeuniverseingeneral，fellawayanddisappeared.Somewhereoutofchaoswassoundingaplaintivevoice："Whatisshelike？Can’tyoutellme？Issheyoungorold？"

Itseemedtohavebeengoingonforages.Shemadeonesupremegiganticeffort，causingtheCentralParktoreappear，dimly，faintly，butitwasthereagain.Shewassittingonaseat.

Matthew——AstonRowant，whateveritwas——wasseatedbesideher.

"You’veseenher？Whatisshelike？"

"Ican’ttellyou."

Hewasevidentlyverycrosswithher.Itseemedsounkindofhim.

"Whycan’tyoutellme——or，whywon’tyoutellme？Doyoumeanshe’stooawfulforwords？"

"No，certainlynot——asamatteroffact——"

"Well，what？"

Shefeltshemustgetawayortherewouldbehystericssomewhere.

Shesprangupandbegantowalkrapidlytowardsthegate.Hefollowedher.

"I’llwriteyou，"saidAnn.

"Butwhy——？"

"Ican’t，"saidAnn."I’vegotarehearsal."

Acarwaspassing.Shemadeadashforitandclamberedon.Beforehecouldmakeuphismindithadgatheredspeed.

Annletherselfinwithherkey.Shecalleddownstairstothesmallservantthatshewasn’ttobedisturbedforanything.Shelockedthedoor.

SoitwastoMatthewthatforsixyearsshehadbeenpouringoutherinmostthoughtsandfeelings！ItwastoMatthewthatshehadlaidbarehertenderest，mostsacreddreams！ItwasatMatthew’sfeetthatforsixyearsshehadbeensitting，gazingupwithrespectfuladmiration，withreverentialdevotion！Sherecalledherletters，almostpassageforpassage，tillshehadtoholdherhandstoherfacetocoolit.Herindignation，onemightalmostsayfury，lastedtilltea—time.

Intheevening——itwasintheeveningtimethatshehadalwayswrittentohim——amorereasonableframeofmindasserteditself.

Afterall，itwashardlyhisfault.Hecouldn’thaveknownwhoshewas.Hedidn’tknownow.Shehadwantedtowrite.Withoutdoubthehadhelpedher，comfortedherloneliness;hadgivenheracharmingfriendship，adelightfulcomradeship.Muchofhisworkhadbeenwrittenforher，toher.Itwasfinework.Shehadbeenproudofhershareinit.Evenallowingtherewerefaults——irritability，shortnessoftemper，atendencytobossiness！——underneathitallwasaman.Thegallantstruggle，thedifficultiesovercome，thelongsuffering，thehighcourage——allthatshe，readingbetweenthelines，haddivinedofhislife’sbattle！Yes，itwasamanshehadworshipped.Awomanneednotbeashamedofthat.AsMatthewhehadseemedtoherconceited，priggish.AsAstonRowantshewonderedathismodesty，hispatience.

Andalltheseyearshehadbeendreamingofher;hadfollowedhertoNewYork;had——

Therecameasuddenmoodsoludicrous，soabsurdlyunreasonablethatAnnherselfstoppedtolaughatit.Yetitwasreal，andithurt.

HehadcometoNewYorkthinkingofSylvia，yearningforSylvia.HehadcometoNewYorkwithonedesire：tofindSylvia.AndthefirstprettywomanthathadcomeacrosshispathhadsentSylviacleanoutofhishead.Therecouldbenoquestionofthat.WhenAnnKavanaghstretchedoutherhandtohiminthatveryroomafortnightagohehadstoodbeforeherdazzled，captured.FromthatmomentSylviahadbeentossedasideandforgotten.AnnKavanaghcouldhavedonewhatshelikedwithhim.Shehadquarrelledwithhimthateveningoftheconcert.Shehadmeanttoquarrelwithhim.

AndthenforthefirsttimehehadrememberedSylvia.Thatwasherreward——Sylvia’s：itwasSylviashewasthinkingof——forsixyears’

devotedfriendship;forthehelp，theinspirationshehadgivenhim.

AsSylvia，shesufferedfromaverygenuineandexplainablewaveofindignantjealousy.AsAnn，sheadmittedheoughtnottohavedoneit，butfelttherewasexcuseforhim.Betweenthetwoshefearedhermindwouldeventuallygiveway.OnthemorningoftheseconddayshesentMatthewanoteaskinghimtocallintheafternoon.

Sylviamightbethere，orshemightnot.Shewouldmentionittoher.

Shedressedherselfinaquiet，dark—colouredfrock.Itseemeduncommittalandsuitabletotheoccasion.Italsohappenedtobethecolourthatbestsuitedher.Shewouldnothavethelampslighted.

Matthewarrivedinadarksergesuitandabluenecktie，sothatthegeneraleffectwasquiet.Anngreetedhimwithkindlinessandputhimwithhisfacetowhatlittlelighttherewas.Shechoseforherselfthewindow—seat.Sylviahadnotarrived.Shemightbealittlelate——thatis，ifshecameatall.

Theytalkedabouttheweatherforawhile.Matthewwasofopiniontheyweregoingtohavesomerain.Ann，whowasinoneofhercontradictorymoods，thoughttherewasfrostintheair.

"Whatdidyousaytoher？"heasked.

"Sylvia？Oh，whatyoutoldme，"repliedAnn."ThatyouhadcometoNewYorkto——tolookforher."

"Whatdidshesay？"heasked.

"Saidyou’dtakenyourtimeaboutit，"retortedAnn.

Matthewlookedupwithaninjuredexpression.

"Itwasherownideathatweshouldnevermeet，"heexplained.

"Um！"Anngrunted.

"Whatdoyouthinkyourselfshewillbelike？"shecontinued."Haveyouformedanynotion？"

"Itiscurious，"hereplied."Ihaveneverbeenabletoconjureupanypictureofheruntiljustnow."

"Why’justnow’？"demandedAnn.

"IhadanideaIshouldfindherherewhenIopenedthedoor，"heanswered."Youwerestandingintheshadow.ItseemedtobejustwhatIhadexpected."

"Youwouldhavebeensatisfied？"sheasked.

"Yes，"hesaid.

Therewassilenceforamoment.

"UncleAbmadeamistake，"hecontinued."Heoughttohavesentmeaway.Letmecomehomenowandthen."

"Youmean，"saidAnn，"thatifyouhadseenlessofmeyoumighthavelikedmebetter？"

"Quiteright，"headmitted."Weneverseethethingsthatarealwaysthere."

"Athin，gawkygirlwithabadcomplexion，"shesuggested."Wouldithavebeenofanyuse？"

"Youmustalwayshavebeenwonderfulwiththoseeyes，"heanswered.

"Andyourhandswerebeautifuleventhen."

"IusedtocrysometimeswhenIlookedatmyselfintheglassasachild，"sheconfessed."Myhandsweretheonlythingthatconsoledme."

"Ikissedthemonce，"hetoldher."Youwereasleep，curledupinUncleAb’schair."

"Iwasn’tasleep，"saidAnn.

Shewasseatedwithonefoottuckedunderneathher.Shedidn’tlookabitgrownup.

"Youalwaysthoughtmeafool，"hesaid.

"Itusedtomakemesoangrywithyou，"saidAnn，"thatyouseemedtohavenogo，noambitioninyou.Iwantedyoutowakeup——dosomething.IfIhadknownyouwereabuddinggenius——"

"Ididhintittoyou，"saidhe.

"Oh，ofcourseitwasallmyfault，"saidAnn.

Herose."Youthinkshemeanstocome？"heasked.Annalsohadrisen.

"Isshesoverywonderful？"sheasked.

"Imaybeexaggeratingtomyself，"heanswered."ButIamnotsurethatIcouldgoonwithmyworkwithouther——notnow."

"Youforgother，"flashedAnn，"tillwehappenedtoquarrelinthecab."

"Ioftendo，"heconfessed."Tillsomethinggoeswrong.Thenshecomestome.Asshedidonthatfirstevening，sixyearsago.Yousee，Ihavebeenmoreorlesslivingwithhersincethen，"headdedwithasmile.

"Indreamland，"Anncorrected.

"Yes，butinmycase，"heanswered，"thebestpartofmylifeispassedindreamland."

"Andwhenyouarenotindreamland？"shedemanded."Whenyou’rejustirritable，short—tempered，crankyMatthewPole.What’sshegoingtodoaboutyouthen？"

"She’llputupwithme，"saidMatthew.

"Noshewon’t，"saidAnn."She’llsnapyourheadoff.Mostofthe’puttingupwith’you’llhavetodo."

Hetriedtogetbetweenherandthewindow，butshekeptherfaceclosetothepane.

"YoumakemetiredwithSylvia，"shesaid."It’sabouttimeyoudidknowwhatshe’slike.She’sjustthecommonplace，short—tempered，disagreeable—if—she—doesn’t—get—her—own—way，unreasonablewoman.

Onlymoreso."

Hedrewherawayfromthewindowbybruteforce.

"Soyou’reSylvia，"hesaid.

"Ithoughtthatwouldgetitintoyourhead，"saidAnn.

Itwasnotatallthewayshehadmeanttobreakittohim.ShehadmeanttheconversationtobechieflyaboutSylvia.ShehadahighopinionofSylvia，amuchhigheropinionthanshehadofAnnKavanagh.Ifheprovedtobeworthyofher——ofSylvia，thatis，then，withthewhimsicalsmilethatshefeltbelongedtoSylvia，shewouldremarkquitesimply，"Well，whathaveyougottosaytoher？"

WhathadhappenedtointerferewiththeprogrammewasAnnKavanagh.

ItseemedthatAnnKavanaghhaddislikedMatthewPolelessthanshehadthoughtshedid.ItwasafterhehadsailedawaythatlittleAnnKavanaghhaddiscoveredthis.Ifonlyhehadshownalittlemoreinterestin，alittlemoreappreciationof，AnnKavanagh！Hecouldbekindandthoughtfulinapatronisingsortofway.Eventhatwouldnothavematterediftherehadbeenanyjustificationforhisairsofsuperiority.

AnnKavanagh，whooughttohavetakenabackseatonthisoccasion，hadpersistedincomingtothefront.Itwassolikeher.

"Well，"shesaid，"whatareyougoingtosaytoher？"Shedidgetitin，afterall.

"Iwasgoing，"saidMatthew，"totalktoheraboutArtandLiterature，touching，maybe，uponafewothersubjects.Also，I

mighthavesuggestedourseeingeachotheragainonceortwice，justtogetbetteracquainted.AndthenIwasgoingaway."

"Whygoingaway？"askedAnn.

"ToseeifIcouldforgetyou."

Sheturnedtohim.Thefadinglightwasfulluponherface.

"Idon’tbelieveyoucould——again，"shesaid.

"No，"heagreed."I’mafraidIcouldn’t."

"You’resurethere’snobodyelse，"saidAnn，"thatyou’reinlovewith.Onlyustwo？"

"Onlyyoutwo，"hesaid.

ShewasstandingwithherhandonoldAbner’semptychair."You’vegottochoose，"shesaid.Shewastrembling.Hervoicesoundedjustalittlehard.

Hecameandstoodbesideher."IwantAnn，"hesaid.

Sheheldoutherhandtohim.

"I’msogladyousaidAnn，"shelaughed.

THEFAWNGLOVES.

Alwaysherememberedherashesawherfirst：thelittlespiritualface，thelittlebrownshoespointeddownwards，theirtoesjusttouchingtheground;thelittlefawnglovesfoldeduponherlap.Hewasnotconsciousofhavingnoticedherwithanyparticularattention：aplainlydressed，childish—lookingfigurealoneonaseatbetweenhimandthesettingsun.Evenhadhefeltcurioushisshynesswouldhavepreventedhisdeliberatelyrunningtheriskofmeetinghereyes.Yetimmediatelyhehadpassedherhesawheragain，quiteclearly：thepaleovalface，thebrownshoes，and，betweenthem，thelittlefawnglovesfoldedoneovertheother.AlldowntheBroadWalkandacrossPrimroseHill，hesawhersilhouettedagainstthesinkingsun.Atleastthatmuchofher：thewistfulfaceandthetrimbrownshoesandthelittlefoldedhands;untilthesunwentdownbehindthehighchimneysofthebrewerybeyondSwissCottage，andthenshefaded.

Shewasthereagainthenextevening，preciselyinthesameplace.

UsuallyhewalkedhomebytheHampsteadRoad.Onlyoccasionally，whenthebeautyoftheeveningtemptedhim，wouldhetakethelongerwaybyRegentStreetandthroughthePark.Butsooftenitmadehimfeelsad，thequietPark，forcinguponhimthesenseofhisownloneliness.

HewouldwalkdownmerelyasfarastheGreatVase，sohearrangedwithhimself.Ifshewerenotthere——itwasnotlikelythatshewouldbe——hewouldturnbackintoAlbanyStreet.Thenewsvendors’

shopswiththeirdisplayofthecheaperillustratedpapers，thesecond—handfurnituredealerswiththeirfadedengravingsandoldprints，wouldgivehimsomethingtolookat，totakeawayhisthoughtsfromhimself.Butseeingherinthedistance，almostthemomenthehadenteredthegate，itcametohimhowdisappointedhewouldhavebeenhadtheseatinfrontoftheredtulipbedbeenvacant.Alittleawayfromherhepaused，turningtolookattheflowers.Hethoughtthat，waitinghisopportunity，hemightbeabletostealaglanceatherundetected.Onceforamomenthedidso，butventuringasecondtimetheireyesmet，orhefanciedtheydid，andblushingfuriouslyhehurriedpast.Butagainshecamewithhim，or，rather，precededhim.Oneachemptyseatbetweenhimandthesinkingsunhesawherquiteplainly：thepaleovalfaceandthebrownshoes，and，betweenthem，thefawnglovesfoldedoneupontheother.

Onlythisevening，aboutthesmall，sensitivemouththereseemedtobehoveringjustthefaintestsuggestionofatimidsmile.AndthistimeshelingeredwithhimpastQueen’sCrescentandtheMaldenRoad，tillheturnedintoCarltonStreet.Itwasdarkinthepassage，andhehadtogropehiswayupthestairs，butwithhishandonthedoorofthebed—sittingroomonthethirdfloorhefeltlessafraidofthesolitudethatwouldrisetomeethim.

AlldaylonginthedingybackofficeinAbingdonStreet，Westminster，wherefromtentosixeachdayhesatcopyingbriefsandpetitions，hethoughtoverwhathewouldsaytoher;tactfulbeginningsbymeansofwhichhewouldslideintoconversationwithher.UpPortlandPlacehewouldrehearsethemtohimself.ButatCambridgeGate，whenthelittlefawnglovescameinview，thewordswouldrunaway，tojoinhimagainmaybeatthegateintotheChesterRoad，leavinghimmeanwhiletopassherwithstiff，hurriedstepsandeyesfixedstraightinfrontofhim.Andsoitmighthavecontinued，butthatoneeveningshewasnolongeratherusualseat.

Acrowdofnoisychildrenswarmedoverit，andsuddenlyitseemedtohimasifthetreesandflowershadallturneddrab.Aterrorgnawedathisheart，andhehurriedon，morefortheneedofmovementthanwithanydefiniteobject.Andjustbeyondabedofgeraniumsthathadhiddenhisviewshewasseatedonachair，andstoppingwithajerkabsolutelyinfrontofher，hesaid，quiteangrily：

"Oh！thereyouare！"

Whichwasnotabitthespeechwithwhichhehadintendedtointroducehimself，butservedhispurposejustaswell——perhapsbetter.

Shedidnotresenthiswordsorthetone.

"Itwasthechildren，"sheexplained."Theywantedtoplay;soI

thoughtIwouldcomeonalittlefarther."

Uponwhich，asamatterofcourse，hetookthechairbesideher，anditdidnotoccurtoeitherofthemthattheyhadnotknownoneanothersincethebeginning，whenbetweenSt.John’sWoodandAlbanyStreetGodplantedagarden.

Eacheveningtheywouldlingerthere，listeningtothepleadingpassionoftheblackbird’snote，thethrush’scalltojoyandhope.

Helovedhergentleways.Fromtheboldchallenges，theslyglancesofinvitationflasheduponhiminthestreetorfromsomeneighbouringtableinthecheapluncheonroomhehadalwaysshrunkconfusedandawkward.Hershynessgavehimconfidence.Itwasshewhowashalfafraid，whoseeyeswouldfallbeneathhisgaze，whowouldtrembleathistouch，givinghimthedelightsofmanlydominion，oftenderauthority.Itwashewhoinsistedonthearistocraticseclusionaffordedbytheprivatechair;who，withthecarelessindifferenceofamantowhompennieswereunimportant，wouldpayforthemboth.OnceonhiswaythroughPiccadillyCircushehadpausedbythefountaintoglanceatagreatbasketofliliesofthevalley，strucksuddenlybythethoughthowstrangelytheirlittlepalepetalsseemedsuggestiveofher.

"’Erey’are，honey.Herfavouriteflower！"criedthegirl，withagrin，holdingabunchtowardshim.

"Howmuch？"hehadasked，vainlytryingtokeepthebloodfromrushingtohisface.

Thegirlpausedamoment，acoarse，kindlycreature.

"Sixpence，"shedemanded;andheboughtthem.Shehadmeanttoaskhimashilling，andknewhewouldhavepaidit."Sameassillyfool！"shecalledherselfasshepocketedthemoney.

Hegavethemtoherwithafinelordlyair，andwatchedherwhileshepinnedthemtoherblouse，andasquirrelhaltinginthemiddleofthewalkwatchedheralsowithhisheadononeside，wonderingwhatwasthegoodofthemthatsheshouldstorethemwithsomuchcare.Shedidnotthankhiminwords，butthereweretearsinhereyeswhensheturnedherfacetohis，andoneofthelittlefawnglovesstoleoutandsoughthishand.Hetookitinbothhis，andwouldhaveheldit，butshewithdrewitalmosthurriedly.

Theyappealedtohim，hergloves，inspiteoftheirbeingoldandmuchmended;andhewasgladtheywereofkid.Hadtheybeenofcotton，suchasgirlsofherclassusuallywore，thethoughtofpressinghislipstothemwouldhaveputhisteethonedge.Helovedthelittlebrownshoes，thatmusthavebeenexpensivewhennew，fortheystillkepttheirshape.Andthefringeofdaintypetticoat，alwayssospotlessandwithneveratear，andtheneat，plainstockingsthatshowedbelowthecloselyfittingfrock.Sooftenhehadnoticedgirls，showily，extravagantlydressed，butwithredbarehandsandsloppyshoes.Handsomegirls，someofthem，attractiveenoughifyouwerenotofafinickingnature，towhomthelittleaccessoriesarealmostofmoreimportancethanthewhole.

Helovedhervoice，sodifferentfromthestridenttonesthateverynowandthen，assomecouple，laughingandtalking，passedthem，wouldfalluponhimalmostlikeablow;herquick，gracefulmovementsthatalwaysbroughtbacktohismemorythevisionofhillandstream.Inherlittlebrownshoesandglovesandthefrockwhichwasalsoofashadeofbrownthoughdarker，shewasstrangelysuggestivetohimofafawn.Thegentlelook，theswift，softmovementsthathavetakenplacebeforetheyareseen;thehauntingsuggestionoffearneverquiteconquered，asifthelittlenervouslimbswerealwaysreadyforsuddenflight.Hecalledherthatoneday.Neitherofthemhadeverthoughttoaskoneanother’snames;

itdidnotseemtomatter.

"Mylittlebrownfawn，"hehadwhispered，"Iamalwaysexpectingyoutosuddenlydigyourlittleheelsintothegroundandspringaway";

andshehadlaughedanddrawnalittleclosertohim.Andeventhatwasjustthemovementofafawn.Hehadknownthem，creepingneartothemuponthehill—sideswhenhewasachild.

Therewasmuchincommonbetweenthem，sotheyfound.ThoughhecouldclaimafewdistantrelativesscatteredabouttheNorth，theywereboth，forallpracticalpurposes，aloneintheworld.Toher，also，homemeantabed—sittingroom——"overthere，"assheindicatedwithawaveofthelittlefawngloveembracingthenorth—westdistrictgenerally;andhedidnotpressherforanymorepreciseaddress.

Itwaseasyenoughforhimtopictureit：themean，close—smellingstreetsomewhereintheneighbourhoodofLissonGrove，orfartherontowardstheHarrowRoad.Alwayshepreferredtosaygood—byetoheratsomepointintheOuterCircle，withitspeacefulvistaoffinetreesandstatelyhouses，watchingherlittlefawn—likefigurefadingawayintothetwilight.

Nofriendorrelativehadsheeverknown，exceptthepale，girlish—lookingmotherwhohaddiedsoonaftertheyhadcometoLondon.Theelderlylandladyhadletherstayon，helpingintheworkofthehouse;andwheneventhislastrefugehadfailedher，well—meaningfolkhadinterestedthemselvesandsecuredheremployment.Itwaslightandfairlywellpaid，buttherewereobjectionstoit，sohegathered，morefromherhaltingsilencesthanfromwhatshesaid.Shehadtriedforatimetofindsomethingelse，butitwassodifficultwithouthelporresources.Therewasnothingreallytocomplainaboutit，except——Andthenshepausedwithasuddenclaspoftheglovedhands，and，seeingthetroubledlookinhereyes，hehadchangedtheconversation.

Itdidnotmatter;hewouldtakeherawayfromit.Itwasverysweettohim，thethoughtofputtingaprotectivearmaboutthislittlefragilecreaturewhoseweaknessgavehimstrength.Hewasnotalwaysgoingtobeaclerkinanoffice.Hewasgoingtowritepoetry，books，plays.Alreadyhehadearnedalittle.Hetoldherofhishopes，andhergreatfaithinhimgavehimnewcourage.Oneevening，findingaseatwherefewpeopleeverpassed，hereadtoher.Andshehadunderstood.Allunconsciouslyshelaughedintherightplaces，andwhenhisownvoicetrembled，andhefounditdifficulttocontinueforthelumpinhisownthroat，glancingatherhesawthetearswereinhereyes.Itwasthefirsttimehehadtastedsympathy.

Andsospringgrewtosummer.Andthenoneeveningagreatthinghappened.Hecouldnotmakeoutatfirstwhatitwasabouther：

somelittleaddedfragrancethatmadeitselfoddlyfelt，whilesheherselfseemedtobeconsciousofincreaseddignity.Itwasnotuntilhetookherhandtosaygood—byethathediscoveredit.Therewassomethingdifferentaboutthefeelofher，and，lookingdownatthelittlehandthatlayinhis，hefoundthereason.Shehadonapairofnewgloves.Theywerestillofthesamefawncolour，butsosmoothandsoftandcool.Theyfittedcloselywithoutawrinkle，displayingtheslightnessandthegracefulnessofthehandsbeneath.

Thetwilighthadalmostfaded，and，saveforthebroadbackofadisappearingpoliceman，theyhadtheOuterCircletothemselves;

and，thesuddenimpulsecomingtohim，hedroppedononeknee，astheydoinplaysandstorybooksandsometimeselsewhere，andpressedthelittlefawnglovestohislipsinalong，passionatekiss.Thesoundofapproachingfootstepsmadehimrisehurriedly.

Shedidnotmove，butherwholebodywastrembling，andinhereyeswasalookthatwasalmostoffear.Theapproachingfootstepscamenearer，butabendoftheroadstillscreenedthem.Swiftlyandinsilencesheputherarmsabouthisneckandkissedhim.Itwasastrange，coldkiss，butalmostfierce，andthenwithoutawordsheturnedandwalkedaway;andhewatchedhertothecornerofHanoverGate，butshedidnotlookback.

Itwasalmostasifithadraisedabarrierbetweenthem，thatkiss.

Thenexteveningshecametomeethimwithasmileasusual，butinhereyeswasstillthatoddsuggestionoflurkingfear;andwhen，seatedbesideher，heputhishandonhersitseemedtohimsheshrankawayfromhim.Itwasanunconsciousmovement.Itbroughtbacktohimthathauntingmemoryofhillandstreamwhensomesoft—

eyedfawn，strayedfromherfellows，wouldlethimapproachquiteclosetoher，andthen，whenheputouthishandtocaressher，wouldstartawaywithaswift，quiveringmovement.

"Doyoualwaysweargloves？"heaskedheroneeveningalittlelater.

"Yes，"sheanswered，speakinglow;"whenI’moutofdoors."

"Butthisisnotoutofdoors，"hehadpleaded."Wehavecomeintothegarden.Won’tyoutakethemoff？"

Shehadlookedathimfromunderbentbrows，asiftryingtoreadhim.Shedidnotanswerhimthen.Butonthewayout，onthelastseatclosetothegate，shehadsatdown，motioninghimtositbesideher.Quietlysheunbuttonedthefawngloves;dreweachoneoffandlaidthemaside.Andthen，forthefirsttime，hesawherhands.

Hadhelookedather，seenthefainthopedieout，themuteagonyinthequieteyeswatchinghim，hewouldhavetriedtohidethedisgust，thephysicalrepulsionthatshoweditselfsoplainlyinhisface，intheinvoluntarymovementwithwhichhedrewawayfromher.

Theyweresmallandshapelywithroundedcurves，butrawandsearedaswithhotirons，withagrowthofred，angry—colouredwarts，andthenailsallwornaway.

"Ioughttohaveshownthemtoyoubefore，"shesaidsimplyasshedrewtheglovesonagain."Itwassillyofme.Ioughttohaveknown."

Hetriedtocomforther，buthisphrasescamemeaninglessandhalting.

Itwasthework，sheexplainedastheywalkedon.Itmadeyourhandslikethatafteratime.Ifonlyshecouldhavegotoutofitearlier！Butnow！Itwasnogoodworryingaboutitnow.

TheypartedneartotheHanoverGate，butto—nighthedidnotstandwatchingherashehadalwaysdonetillshewavedalastgood—byetohimjustbeforedisappearing;sowhethersheturnedornotheneverknew.

Hedidnotgotomeetherthenextevening.Adozentimeshisfootstepsledhimunconsciouslyalmosttothegate.Thenhewouldhurryawayagain，pacethemeanstreets，jostlingstupidlyagainstthepassers—by.Thepale，sweetface，thelittlenymph—likefigure，thelittlebrownshoeskeptcallingtohim.Ifonlytherewouldpassawaythehorrorofthosehands！Alltheartistinhimshudderedatthememoryofthem.Alwayshehadimaginedthemundertheneat，smoothglovesasfittinginwithalltherestofher，dreamingofthetimewhenhewouldholdtheminhisown，caressingthem，kissingthem.Woulditbepossibletoforgetthem，toreconcileoneselftothem？Hemustthink——mustgetawayfromthesecrowdedstreetswherefacesseemedtogrinathim.HerememberedthatParliamenthadjustrisen，thatworkwasslackintheoffice.

Hewouldaskthathemighttakehisholidaynow——thenextday.Andtheyhadagreed.

Hepackedafewthingsintoaknapsack.Fromthevoicesofthehillsandstreamshewouldfindcounsel.

Hetooknocountofhiswanderings.Oneeveningatalonelyinnhemetayoungdoctor.Theinnkeeper’swifewasexpectingtobetakenwithchildthatnight，andthedoctorwaswaitingdownstairstillsummoned.Whiletheyweretalking，theideacametohim.Whyhadhenotthoughtofit？Overcominghisshyness，heputhisquestions.

Whatworkwoulditbethatwouldcausesuchinjuries？Hedescribedthem，seeingthembeforehimintheshadowsofthedimlylightedroom，thosepoor，pitifullittlehands.

Oh！adozenthingsmightaccountforit——thedoctor’svoicesoundedcallous——thehandlingofflax，evenoflinenundercertainconditions.Chemicalsenteredsomuchnowadaysintoallsortsofprocessesandpreparations.Allthisnewphotography，cheapcolourprinting，dyeingandcleaning，metalwork.Mightallbeavoidedbyprovidingrubbergloves.Itoughttobemadecompulsory.Thedoctorseemedinclinedtoholdforth.Heinterruptedhim.

Butcoulditbecured？Wasthereanyhope？

Cured？Hope？Ofcourseitcouldbecured.Itwasonlylocal——theeffectbeingconfinedtothehandsprovedthat.Apoisonedconditionoftheskinaggravatedbygeneralpovertyofblood.Takeherawayfromit;letherhaveplentyoffreshairandcarefuldiet，usingsomesuchsimpleointmentoranotherasanylocalman，seeingthem，wouldprescribe;andinthreeorfourmonthstheywouldrecover.

Hecouldhardlystaytothanktheyoungdoctor.Hewantedtogetawaybyhimself，toshout，towavehisarms，toleap.Haditbeenpossiblehewouldhavereturnedthatverynight.Hecursedhimselfforthefancifulnessthathadpreventedhisinquiringheraddress.

Hecouldhavesentatelegram.Risingatdawn，forhehadnotattemptedtosleep，hewalkedthetenmilestothenearestrailwaystation，andwaitedforthetrain.Alldaylongitseemedtocreepwithhimthroughtheendlesscountry.ButLondoncameatlast.

Itwasstilltheafternoon，buthedidnotcaretogotohisroom.

Leavinghisknapsackatthestation，hemadehiswaytoWestminster.

Hewantedallthingstobeunchanged，sothatbetweenthiseveningandtheirpartingitmightseemasiftherehadmerelypassedanuglydream;andtiminghimself，hereachedtheparkjustattheirusualhour.

Hewaitedtillthegateswereclosed，butshedidnotcome.Alldaylongatthebackofhismindhadbeenthatfear，buthehaddrivenitaway.Shewasill，justaheadache，ormerelytired.

Andthenexteveninghetoldhimselfthesame.Hedarednotwhispertohimselfanythingelse.Andeachsucceedingeveningagain.Heneverrememberedhowmany.Foratimehewouldsitwatchingthepathbywhichshehadalwayscome;andwhenthehourwaslongpasthewouldriseandwalktowardsthegate，lookeastandwest，andthenreturn.Oneeveninghestoppedoneofthepark—keepersandquestionedhim.Yes，themanrememberedherquitewell：theyoungladywiththefawngloves.Shehadcomeonceortwice——maybeoftener，thepark—keepercouldnotbesure——andhadwaited.No，therehadbeennothingtoshowthatshewasinanywayupset.Shehadjustsatthereforatime，nowandthenwalkingalittlewayandthencomingbackagain，untiltheclosinghour，andthenshehadgone.Helefthisaddresswiththepark—keeper.Themanpromisedtolethimknowifheeversawherthereagain.

Sometimes，insteadofthepark，hewouldhauntthemeanstreetsaboutLissonGroveandfarbeyondtheothersideoftheEdgwareRoad，pacingthemtillnightfell.Butheneverfoundher.

Hewondered，beatingagainstthebarsofhispoverty，ifmoneywouldhavehelpedhim.Butthegrim，endlesscity，hidingitsmillionsecrets，seemedtomockthethought.Afewpoundshehadscrapedtogetherhespentinadvertisements;butheexpectednoresponse，andnonecame.Itwasnotlikelyshewouldseethem.

Andsoafteratimethepark，andeventhestreetsroundaboutit，becamehatefultohim;andhemovedawaytoanotherpartofLondon，hopingtoforget.Butheneverquitesucceeded.Alwaysitwouldcomebacktohimwhenhewasnotthinking：thebroad，quietwalkwithitsprimtreesandgaybedsofflowers.Andalwayshewouldseeherseatedthere，framedbythefadinglight.Atleast，thatmuchofher：thelittlespiritualface，andthebrownshoespointingdownwards，andbetweenthemthelittlefawnglovesfoldeduponherlap.