, like the tears of senility. Mrs. Henry's was a different case;
and Heaven alone knows what he found to say to her, or how he persuaded
her from her contempt. It is one of the worst things of sentiment, that
the voice grows to be more important than the words, and the speaker
than that which is spoken. But some excuse the Master must have found,
or perhaps he had even struck upon some art to wrest this exposure to
his own advantage; for after a time of coldness, it seemed as if things
went worse than ever between him and Mrs. Henry. They were then
constantly together. I would not be thought to cast one shadow of blame,
beyond what is due to a half-wilful blindness, on that unfortunate
lady; but I do think, in these last days, she was playing very near the
fire; and whether I be wrong or not in that, one thing is sure and quite
sufficient: Mr. Henry thought so. The poor gentleman sat for days in my
room, so great a picture of distress that I could never venture to
address him; yet it is to be thought he found some comfort even in my
presence and the knowledge of my sympathy. There were times, too, when
we talked, and a strange manner of talk it was; there was never a person
named, nor an individual circumstance referred to; yet we had the same
matter in our minds, and we were each aware of it. It is a strange art
that can thus be practised; to talk for hours of a thing, and never name
nor yet so much as hint at it. And I remember I wondered if it was by
some such natural skill that the Master made love to Mrs. Henry all day
long (as he manifestly did), yet never startled her into reserve.

To show how far affairs had gone with Mr. Henry, I will give some words
of his, uttered (as I have cause not to forget) upon the 26th of
February 1757. It was unseasonable weather, a cast back into winter:
windless, bitter cold, the world all white with rime, the sky low and
grey: the sea black and silent like a quarry-hole. Mr. Henry sat close
by the fire, and debated (as was now common with him) whether "a man"
should "do things," whether "interference was wise," and the like
general propositions, which each of us particularly applied. I was by
the window, looking out, when there passed below me the Master, Mrs.
Henry, and Miss Katharine, that now constant trio. The child was running
to and fro, delighted with the frost; the Master spoke close in the
lady's ear with what seemed (even from so far) a devilish grace of
insinuation; and