watching, here burst
on us with cries of welcome, and it was long before there was any
renewal of the conversation, so that I could not tell whether he really
persuaded himself that he had no hopes, or was waiting to see how
matters should turn out.

It was never easy to detect expressions of feeling or spirits on his
massive face, and he could hardly be more silent than usual; but it was
noticeable that he never fell asleep after his former wont when sitting
still. Indeed, he seldom was still, for he had a great deal of
business both for the estate and the potteries on his hands, and stayed
up late at night over them; and not only over them, for my room was
next to his, and I heard the regular tramp, tramp of his feet, and the
turn at the end of the room, as he walked up and down for at least an
hour when the rest of the house were asleep, or the closing of the door
when he returned from wandering on the moor at night. And in the early
morning, long before light, he always walked or rode over to Arked
House, bestowed on Dermot's hurts the cares which both had come to look
on as essential, and stayed with him till the family were nearly ready
to appear at their nine o'clock breakfast, not seeing Viola at all,
unless any special cause led to a meeting later in the day, and then
his eyes glowed, and he would do her devoted, unobserved service--no,
not unobserved by her, whom it made blush and sparkle--and utter little
words of thanks, not so gay as of old, but deeper, as if for a great
honour and delight. And then he would bow his head, colour, and draw
into the background, where, with folded arms, he could watch her.

Once, when Dora, in her old way, claimed to be his wife, Harold told
her with some impatience that she was growing too old for that
nonsense. The child looked at him with bent brows and questioning eyes
for a moment, then turned and fled. An hour later, after a long
search, I found her crouched up in the corner of the kangaroo's stall
among the straw, having cried herself to sleep, with her head on the
creature's soft back.

As soon as Dermot was able to bear any strain on mind or attention, he
gave his keys to Harold. All his long and unhappy accumulation of
bills and bonds were routed out from their receptacles at Biston, and
brought over by Harold to his office, where he sorted them, and made
them intelligible, before harassing his friend with the questions he
alone could explain. An hour a da