; it no more
than ushered in the great event for which they had spent years
preparing. And he was downright glad that she could see no visitors;
that fact saved him added anxieties, and spared her the need of being
told about Mina Zabriska and warned to bear herself warily toward the
daughter of Madame de Kries. Harry did not ask his mother whether she
remembered the name--the question was unnecessary; nor did he tell his
mother that one who had borne the name was at Merrion Lodge. He waited,
vaguely expecting that trouble would come from Merrion, but entirely
confident in his ability to fight, and worst, the tricky little woman
whom he had not feared to snub; and in his heart he thought well of her,
and believed she had as little inclination to hurt him as she seemed to
have power. His only active step was to pursue his attentions to Janie
Iver.

Yet he was not happy about his attentions. He meant to marry the girl,
and thought she would marry him. He did not believe that she was
inclined to fall in love with him. He had no right to expect it, since
he was not falling in love with her. But it hurt that terrible pride of
his; he was in a way disgusted with the part he had chosen, and
humiliated to think that he might not be accepted for himself. A refusal
would have hurt him incalculably; such an assent as he counted upon
would wound him somewhat too. He had keen eyes, and he had formed his
own opinion about Bob Broadley. None the less, he held straight on his
course; and the spinster ladies were a little shocked to observe that
Lady Tristram's illness did not interfere at all with her son's
courtship; people in that position of life were certainly curious.

A new vexation had come upon him, the work of his pet aversions, the
Gainsboroughs. He had seen Mr Gainsborough once, and retained a picture
of a small ineffectual man with a ragged tawny-brown beard and a big
soft felt hat, who had an air of being very timid, rather pressed for
money, and endowed with a kind heart. Now, it seemed, Mr Gainsborough
was again overflowing with family affection (a disposition not always
welcomed by its objects), and wanted to shake poor Lady Tristram's hand,
and wanted poor Lady Tristram to kiss his daughter--wanted, in fact, a
thorough-going burying of hatchets and a touching reconciliation. With
that justice of judgment of which neither youth nor prejudice quite
deprived him, Harry liked the letter; but he was certain that the writer