rouble and pain; and, whatever I ought to have done, my duty
now is plainly to love him and to cleave to him, and this just tallies
with my inclination.

He is very fond of me, almost too fond. I could do with less caressing
and more rationality. I should like to be less of a pet and more of a
friend, if I might choose; but I won't complain of that: I am only afraid
his affection loses in depth where it gains in ardour. I sometimes liken
it to a fire of dry twigs and branches compared with one of solid coal,
very bright and hot; but if it should burn itself out and leave nothing
but ashes behind, what shall I do? But it won't, it sha'n't, I am
determined; and surely I have power to keep it alive. So let me dismiss
that thought at once. But Arthur is selfish; I am constrained to
acknowledge that; and, indeed, the admission gives me less pain than
might be expected, for, since I love him so much, I can easily forgive
him for loving himself: he likes to be pleased, and it is my delight to
please him; and when I regret this tendency of his, it is for his own
sake, not for mine.

The first instance he gave was on the occasion of our bridal tour. He
wanted to hurry it over, for all the continental scenes were already
familiar to him: many had lost their interest in his eyes, and others had
never had anything to lose. The consequence was, that after a flying
transit through part of France and part of Italy, I came back nearly as
ignorant as I went, having made no acquaintance with persons and manners,
and very little with things, my head swarming with a motley confusion of
objects and scenes; some, it is true, leaving a deeper and more pleasing
impression than others, but these embittered by the recollection that my
emotions had not been shared by my companion, but that, on the contrary,
when I had expressed a particular interest in anything that I saw or
desired to see, it had been displeasing to him, inasmuch as it proved
that I could take delight in anything disconnected with himself.

[Picture: Blake Hall--The Approach (Grassdale Manor)]

As for Paris, we only just touched at that, and he would not give me time
to see one-tenth of the beauties and interesting objects of Rome. He
wanted to get me home, he said, to have me all to himself, and to see me
safely installed as the mistress of Grassdale Manor, just as
single-minded, as naive, and piquante as I was; and as if I had been some
frail butterfly, h