An education of this kind, working upon Maud Enderby’s natural temperament, resulted in an abnormal character, the chief trait of which was remarkable as being in contradiction to the spirit of her time.  She was oppressed with the consciousness of sin.  Every most natural impulse of her own heart she regarded as a temptation to be resisted with all her strength.  Her ideal was the same as Miss Bygrave’s, but she could not pursue it with the latter’s assured calm; at every moment the voice of her youth spoke within her, and became to her the voice of the enemy.  Her faith was scarcely capable of formulation in creeds; her sins were not of omission or commission in the literal sense; it was an attitude of soul which she sought to attain, though ever falling away.  What little she saw of the world in London, and afterwards at her home by the sea-side, only served to increase the trouble of her conscience, by making her more aware of her own weakness.  For instance, the matter of her correspondence with Waymark.  In very truth, the chief reason why she had given him the permission he asked of her was, that before so sudden and unexpected a demand she found herself confused and helpless; had she been able to reflect, the temptation would probably have been resisted, for the pleasantness of the thought made her regard it as a grave temptation.  Casuistry and sophistical reasoning with her own heart ensued, to the increase of her morbid sensitiveness; she persuaded herself that greater insight into the world’s evil would be of aid in her struggle, and so the contents of Waymark’s first letter led her to a continuance of the correspondence.  A power of strong and gloomy description which she showed in her letters, and which impressed Waymark, afforded the key to her sufferings; her soul in reality was that of an artist, and, whereas the artist should be free from everything like moral prepossession, Maud’s aesthetic sensibilities were in perpetual conflict with her moral convictions.  She could not understand herself, seeing that her opportunities had never allowed her to obtain an idea of the artistic character.  This irrepressible delight and interest in the active life of the world, what could it be but the tendency to evil, most strongly developed?  These heart-burnings whenever she witnessed men and women rejoicing in the exercise of their natural affections, what could that be but the proneness to evil in its grossest form?

It was naturally a great surprise to Maud when she received the letter from her aunt, which asked her not to continue her engagement into the new quarter, giving as a reason merely that the writer wished for her at home.  It was even with something of dread and shrinking that she looked forward to a renewal of the old life.  Still, it was enough that her aunt had need of her.  On her return to London, she was met with strange revelations.  Miss Bygrave’s story had been agreed upon between herself and Paul.  It had been deemed best to make Mrs. Enderby’s insanity the explanation of Maud’s removal from her parents, and the girl, stricken as she was with painful emotions, seemed to accept this undoubtingly.