lation or separation; not even the consciousness of toleration toward
him. Toward Celia, with her delicious commonplace of rather superficial
yet _naive_ worldly wisdom, her half-conscious selfishness, her
baby-worship, and her inimitable "staccato," she is more than tolerant.
She looks up to her as in many respects a superior, even though her own
far higher instincts and aims of life cannot accept her as an aid and
guidance toward the realisation of these. Even at old Featherstone's
funeral, her one emotion is of pitiful sorrow over that loveless mockery
of all human pity and love; and for the "Frog-faced" there is no feeling
but sympathetic compassion for his apparent loneliness amongst strangers,
who all stand aloof and look askance on him. Into all Lydgate's plans,
into the whole question of the hospital and all he hopes to achieve
through means of it, she throws herself with swift intelligence, with
active, eager sympathy, as a probable instrumentality by which at least
one phase of suffering may be redressed or allayed. And in the hour of
his deep humiliation, when all others have fallen away from his side,
when the wife of his bosom forsakes him in callous and heartless
resentment of what was done for her sake alone; when he stands out the
mark of scorn and obloquy for all save Farebrother, and scans and all but
loathes himself--she, with her artless trust in the best of humanity, in
the strength of her instinctive recognition of the merest glimmering of
whatever is true and right and high in others, comes to his side, yields
him at once her fullest confidence, gives him with frank simplicity her
aid, and enables him, so far as determined prejudice and uncharity will
allow, to right himself before others.

Reference has already been made to her whole relations, from first to
last, with Ladislaw. It is not easy to conceive anything more touchingly
beautiful than these, more perfectly in harmony with her whole nature. Of
anything approaching either coquetry or prudery she is incapable. The
utter absence of all self-consciousness, whether of external beauty or
inward loveliness; the ethereal purity, the childlike trustfulness, the
instinctive recognition of all that is true and earnest and high in
Ladislaw, through all the surface appearance of indecision, of vague
uncertain aim and purpose and limited object in life; no thought of what
is ordinarily called love toward him, of love on his part toward her--ever