and the rest had done. Rickman had got to stay there; he
could not step in and pluck him out like a brand from the burning; for
Maddox had just accomplished that heroic feat. He would say nothing
that would lend countenance to the extravagance of Maddox. There was
really no room for fresh appreciation anywhere. He could not give
blame where Hanson had given it; and Maddox had plastered every line
with praise. He would have been the first to praise Rickman, provided
that he _was_ the first. Not that Jewdwine ever committed himself. As
a critic his surest resource had always lain in understatement. If the
swan was a goose, Jewdwine had as good as said so. If the goose proved
a swan, Jewdwine had implied as much by his magnificent reserve. But
this time the middle course was imposed on him less by conviction than
necessity. He had to hold the balance true between Hanson and Maddox.

In his efforts to hold it true, he became more than ever academic and
judicial. So judicial, so impartial was he in his opinion, that he
really seemed to have no opinion at all; to be merely summing up the
evidence and leaving the verdict to the incorruptible jury. Every
sentence sounded as though it had been passed through a refrigerator.
Not a hint or a sign that he had ever recognized in Rickman the
possibility of greatness.

Now, if Rickman had not been connected with _The Museion_, the review
would have done him neither harm nor good. As it was, it did him harm.
It was naturally supposed that Jewdwine, so far from understating his
admiration, had suppressed his bad opinion in the interests of
friendship. Rickman's _Saturnalia_ remained where Hanson had placed
it, rather low in the ranks of young Decadence.

And then, just because he had suppressed the truth about him, because
he felt that he had given Rickman some grounds for bitterness,
Jewdwine began to feel more and more bitter himself.

If Rickman felt any bitterness he never showed it. He had only two
thoughts on reading Jewdwine's articles. "It wouldn't have mattered
except that _she_ will see it"; and "I wouldn't have minded if it was
what he really thought."

Maddox, rightly judging that Rickman would be suffering more in his
affection than his vanity, called on him that afternoon and dragged
him out for his usual Saturday walk. As if the thought of Jewdwine
dominated their movements, they found themselves on the way to
Hampstead. Maddox attempted consolation.

"It really d