ereabouts. She was in constant communication with Cartmell about her
affairs; to me she wrote much seldomer and only on necessity; to Chat
she never wrote at all. To none of us, I believe, did she say a word
about what had happened--and she certainly said no word to Catsford. Nor
did we; her orders stood--no excuses, no explanations, no guesses. Thus
starved of food, Catsford's interest at last languished; they did not
forget Jenny, but talk about her catastrophe and Octon's death died
down. Nobody having anything fresh to tell or any guess to make that had
not been made already, the topic grew stale.

The long wait began--it was a wait to me, for I knew that she meant to
come back in the end--and lasted for nearly three years. I employed an
ample leisure in writing my essay on "The Future of Religious and
Ethical Thought." It brought me some credit in the outside world--or
rather the small part of it that cares for such speculations; but
indifference was the best I hoped from Catsford--and I did not
altogether achieve that. Friendship sometimes gives a writer what I may
term unnatural readers--and not with the happiest results. Alison
continued to be kind and cordial to me, but he would not talk about my
book. Mrs. Jepps--what business had she with such a book at all?--shook
her head over it, and over me, very solemnly, and, as I heard, was not
slow to trace a connection between Jenny's acts and my opinions. I did
the local reputation of Breysgate no good by that book, though its
reception in the Press flattered my vanity considerably.

More important things happened in the neighborhood--for three years make
differences in a little society. Old Mr. Dormer died, carrying off with
him into the inaudible much agreeable anecdote; his cousin, a young man
of thirty, reigned at Kingston in his stead. Bertram Ware was no longer
M.P.; the domestic dissensions, in which Jenny had once seen an
opportunity for herself, had ended in his retiring at the General
Election; he was said to be sulky, and to be talking of selling his
place and going away. Lacey, his majority just attained, had been put
forward in his stead, and elected after a stiff fight with an eloquent
stranger from London--(Bindlecombe reserved himself till Catsford should
be given a borough member!)--I did not follow closely Lacey's doings--or
anybody's--at Westminster, but he was assiduous in his social duties in
the constituency. There was no change at Fillingford