At night he was particularly urgent with her for the harmonious duet in praise of Lakelands; and plied her with questions all round and about it, to bring out the dulcet accord.  He dwelt on his choice of costly marbles, his fireplace and mantelpiece designs, the great hall, and suggestions for imposing and beautiful furniture; concordantly enough, for the large, the lofty and rich of colour won her enthusiasm; but overwhelmingly to any mood of resistance; and strangely in a man who had of late been adopting, as if his own, a modern tone, or the social and literary hints of it, relating to the right uses of wealth, and the duty as well as the delight of living simply.

‘Fredi was pleased.’

‘Yes, she was, dear.’

’She is our girl, my love.  “I could live and die here!” Live, she may.  There’s room enough.’

Nataly saw the door of a covert communication pointed at in that remark.  She gathered herself for an effort to do battle.

‘She’s quite a child, Victor.’

’The time begins to run.  We have to look forward now:—­I declare, it’s I who seem the provident mother for Fredi!’

’Let our girl wait; don’t hurry her mind to . . .  She is happy with her father and mother.  She is in the happiest time of her life, before those feelings distract.’

‘If we see good fortune for her, we can’t let it pass her.’

A pang of the resolution now to debate the case with Victor, which would be of necessity to do the avoided thing and roll up the forbidden curtain opening on their whole history past and prospective, was met in Nataly’s bosom by the more bitter immediate confession that she was not his match.  To speak would be to succumb; and shamefully after the effort; and hopelessly after being overborne by him.  There was not the anticipation of a set contest to animate the woman’s naturally valiant heart; he was too strong:  and his vividness in urgency overcame her in advance, fascinated her sensibility through recollection; he fanned an inclination, lighted it to make it a passion, a frenzied resolve—­she remembered how and when.  She had quivering cause to remember the fateful day of her step, in a letter received that morning from a married sister, containing no word of endearment or proposal for a meeting.  An unregretted day, if Victor would think of the dues to others; that is, would take station with the world to see his reflected position, instead of seeing it through their self-justifying knowledge of the honourable truth of their love, and pressing to claim and snatch at whatsoever the world bestows on its orderly subjects.