Any one watching her might have seen that there was a fortifying

thought within her. Just as when inventive power is working with glad

ease some small claim on the attention is fully met as if it were only

a cranny opened to the sunlight, it was easy now for Dorothea to write

her memoranda. She spoke her last words to the housekeeper in cheerful

tones, and when she seated herself in the carriage her eyes were bright

and her cheeks blooming under the dismal bonnet. She threw back the

heavy "weepers," and looked before her, wondering which road Will had

taken. It was in her nature to be proud that he was blameless, and

through all her feelings there ran this vein--"I was right to defend

him."

The coachman was used to drive his grays at a good pace, Mr. Casaubon

being unenjoying and impatient in everything away from his desk, and

wanting to get to the end of all journeys; and Dorothea was now bowled

along quickly. Driving was pleasant, for rain in the night had laid

the dust, and the blue sky looked far off, away from the region of the

great clouds that sailed in masses. The earth looked like a happy

place under the vast heavens, and Dorothea was wishing that she might

overtake Will and see him once more.

After a turn of the road, there he was with the portfolio under his

arm; but the next moment she was passing him while he raised his hat,

and she felt a pang at being seated there in a sort of exaltation,

leaving him behind. She could not look back at him. It was as if a

crowd of indifferent objects had thrust them asunder, and forced them

along different paths, taking them farther and farther away from each

other, and making it useless to look back. She could no more make any

sign that would seem to say, "Need we part?" than she could stop the

carriage to wait for him. Nay, what a world of reasons crowded upon

her against any movement of her thought towards a future that might

reverse the decision of this day!

"I only wish I had known before--I wish he knew--then we could be quite

happy in thinking of each other, though we are forever parted. And if

I could but have given him the money, and made things easier for

him!"--were the longings that came back the most persistently. And

yet, so heavily did the world weigh on her in spite of her independent

energy, that with this idea of Will as in need of such help and at a

disadvantage with the world, there came always the vision of that

unfittingness of any closer relation between them which lay in the

opinion of every one connected with her. She felt to the full all the

imperativeness of the motives which urged Will's conduct. How could he

dream of her defying the barrier that her husband had placed between

them?--how could she ever say to herself that she would defy it?




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