, should have
reminded him that he could stand a desperate wrench when convinced that
his life's purpose depended upon it. Here were three years of
trusteeship before him--he could not, or would not, count on her
marrying before she came of age. Her letters would still come; from
time to time doubtless he must meet her. It had all resulted from this
confounded journey taken together! Why, knowing himself sufficiently,
did he consent to meet the people at Genoa, loitering there for a
couple of days in expectancy? Why had he come to Italy at all just now?

The answers to all such angry queries were plain enough, however he had
hitherto tried to avoid them. He was a lonely man like his father, but
not content with loneliness; friendship was always strong to tempt him,
and when the thought of something more than friendship had been
suffered to take hold upon his imagination, it held with terrible grip,
burning, torturing. He had come simply to meet Cecily; there was the
long and short of it. It was a weakness, such as any man may be guilty
of, particularly any artist who groans in lifelong solitude. Let it he
recognized; let it be flung savagely into the past, like so many others
encountered and overcome on his course.

The other day, when it was rainy and sunless, he had seemed all at once
to find his freedom. In a moment of mental languor, he was able to view
his position clearly, as though some other man were concerned, and to
cry out that he had triumphed; but within the same hour an event befell
which revived all the old trouble and added new. Reuben Elgar entered
his room, coming directly from Villa Sannazaro, in a state of
excitement, talking at once of Cecily Doran as though his acquaintance
with her had been unbroken from the time when she was in his mother's
care to now. Irritation immediately scattered the thoughts Mallard had
been ranging; he could barely make a show of amicable behaviour; a cold
fear began to creep about his heart. The next morning he woke to a new
phase of his conflict, the end further off than ever. Unable to command
thought and feeling, he preserved at least the control of his action,
and could persevere in the resolve not to see Cecily; to avoid casual
meetings he kept away even from the Spences. He shunned all places
likely to be visited by Cecily, and either sat at home in dull idleness
or strayed about the swarming quarters of the town, trying to entertain
himself with the spectacle of