must needs feel, a little icily, the emptiness of hope, and something
more than the due measure of cold in things for a woman of her age, in
the presence of a son who desired but to fade out of the world like a
breath--and she suggested filial duty. "Good mother," he answered,
"there are duties toward the intellect also, which women can but rarely
understand."

The artists and their wives were come to supper again, with the
Burgomaster van Storck. Mademoiselle van Westrheene was also come,
with her sister and mother. The girl was by [101] this time fallen in
love with Sebastian; and she was one of the few who, in spite of his
terrible coldness, really loved him for himself. But though of good
birth she was poor, while Sebastian could not but perceive that he had
many suitors of his wealth. In truth, Madame van Westrheene, her
mother, did wish to marry this daughter into the great world, and plied
many arts to that end, such as "daughterful" mothers use. Her healthy
freshness of mien and mind, her ruddy beauty, some showy presents that
had passed, were of a piece with the ruddy colouring of the very house
these people lived in; and for a moment the cheerful warmth that may be
felt in life seemed to come very close to him,--to come forth, and
enfold him. Meantime the girl herself taking note of this, that on a
former occasion of their meeting he had seemed likely to respond to her
inclination, and that his father would readily consent to such a
marriage, surprised him on the sudden with those coquetries and
importunities, all those little arts of love, which often succeed with
men. Only, to Sebastian they seemed opposed to that absolute nature we
suppose in love. And while, in the eyes of all around him to-night,
this courtship seemed to promise him, thus early in life, a kind of
quiet happiness, he was coming to an estimate of the situation, with
strict regard to that ideal of a calm, intellectual indifference, of
which he was [102] the sworn chevalier. Set in the cold, hard light of
that ideal, this girl, with the pronounced personal views of her
mother, and in the very effectiveness of arts prompted by a real
affection, bringing the warm life they prefigured so close to him,
seemed vulgar! And still he felt himself bound in honour; or judged
from their manner that she and those about them thought him thus bound.
He did not reflect on the inconsistency of the feeling of honour
(living, as it does essentiall