e was ordered; shawls and bonnets were demanded;
Mr. Helstone called for his niece.

"I must go, Robert."

"Yes, you must go, or they will come in and find us here; and I, rather
than meet all that host in the passage, will take my departure through
the window. Luckily it opens like a door. One minute only--put down the
candle an instant--good-night. I kiss you because we are cousins, and,
being cousins, one--two--three kisses are allowable. Caroline,
good-night."

CHAPTER VIII.

NOAH AND MOSES.

The next day Moore had risen before the sun, and had taken a ride to
Whinbury and back ere his sister had made the cafe au lait or cut the
tartines for his breakfast. What business he transacted there he kept to
himself. Hortense asked no questions: it was not her wont to comment on
his movements, nor his to render an account of them. The secrets of
business--complicated and often dismal mysteries--were buried in his
breast, and never came out of their sepulchre save now and then to scare
Joe Scott, or give a start to some foreign correspondent. Indeed, a
general habit of reserve on whatever was important seemed bred in his
mercantile blood.

Breakfast over, he went to his counting-house. Henry, Joe Scott's boy,
brought in the letters and the daily papers; Moore seated himself at his
desk, broke the seals of the documents, and glanced them over. They were
all short, but not, it seemed, sweet--probably rather sour, on the
contrary, for as Moore laid down the last, his nostrils emitted a
derisive and defiant snuff, and though he burst into no soliloquy, there
was a glance in his eye which seemed to invoke the devil, and lay
charges on him to sweep the whole concern to Gehenna. However, having
chosen a pen and stripped away the feathered top in a brief spasm of
finger-fury (only finger-fury--his face was placid), he dashed off a
batch of answers, sealed them, and then went out and walked through the
mill. On coming back he sat down to read his newspaper.

The contents seemed not absorbingly interesting; he more than once laid
it across his knee, folded his arms, and gazed into the fire; he
occasionally turned his head towards the window; he looked at intervals
at his watch; in short, his mind appeared preoccupied. Perhaps he was
thinking of the beauty of the weather--for it was a fine and mild
morning for the season--and wishing to be out in the fields enjoying
it. The door of his counting-house stood wide open. T