steadily, as it is; to begin to learn its severe truths seriously, and to study its knotty problems closely, conscientiously.
It appeared she had a little sense, for she quitted Robert quietly, without complaint or question—without the alteration of a muscle or the shedding of a tear,—betook herself to her studies under Hortense as usual, and at dinner-time went home without lingering.
When she had dined, and found herself in the Rectory drawing-room alone, having left her uncle over his temperate glass of port wine, the difficulty that occurred to, and embarrassed her, was—“How am I to get through this day?”
Last night she had hoped it would be spent as yesterday was,—that the evening would be again passed with Happiness and Robert: she had learned her mistake this morning, and yet she could not settle down, convinced that no chance would occur to recall her to Hollow’s cottage, or to bring Moore again into her society.
He had walked up after tea, more than once, to pass an hour with her uncle: the door-bell had rung, his voice had been heard in the passage just at twilight, when she little expected such a pleasure; and this had happened twice after he had treated her with peculiar reserve; and, though he rarely talked to her in her uncle’s presence, he had looked at her relentingly, as he sat opposite her work-table during his stay: the few words he had spoken to her were
