But Mr. Newell’s conditions were inflexible.  He would “see the thing through” for his daughter’s sake; but he stipulated that in the meantime there should be no meetings or farther communications of any kind.  He agreed to be ready when Garnett called for him, at the appointed hour on the wedding-day; but until then he begged to be left alone.  To this decision he adhered immovably, and when Garnett conveyed it to Hermione she accepted it with a deep look of understanding.  As for Mrs. Newell she was too much engrossed in the nuptial preparations to give her husband another thought.  She had gained her point, she had disarmed her foes, and in the first flush of success she had no time to remember by what means her victory had been won.  Even Garnett’s services received little recognition, unless he found them sufficiently compensated by the new look in Hermione’s eyes.

The principal figures in Mrs. Newell’s foreground were the Woolsey Hubbards and Baron Schenkelderff.  With these she was in hourly consultation, and Mrs. Hubbard went about aureoled with the importance of her close connection with an “aristocratic marriage,” and dazzled by the Baron’s familiarity with the intricacies of the Almanach de Gotha.  In his society and Mrs. Newell’s, Mrs. Hubbard evidently felt that she had penetrated to the sacred precincts where “the right thing” flourished in its native soil.  As for Hermione, her look of happiness had returned, but with an undertint of melancholy, visible perhaps only to Garnett, but to him always hauntingly present.  Outwardly she sank back into her passive self, resigned to serve as the brilliant lay-figure on which Mrs. Newell hung the trophies of conquest.  Preparations for the wedding were zealously pressed.  Mrs. Newell knew the danger of giving people time to think things over, and her fears about her husband being allayed, she began to [87] dread a new attempt at evasion on the part of the bridegroom’s family.

“The sooner it’s over the sounder I shall sleep!” she declared to Garnett; and all the mitigations of art could not conceal the fact that she was desperately in need of that restorative.  There were moments, indeed, when he was sorrier for her than for her husband or her daughter; so black and unfathomable appeared the abyss into which she must slip back if she lost her hold on this last spar of safety.

But she did not lose her hold; his own experience, as well as her husband’s declaration, might have told him that she always got what she wanted.  How much she had wanted this particular thing was shown by the way in which, on the last day, when all peril was over, she bloomed out in renovated splendour.  It gave Garnett a shivering sense of the ugliness of the alternative which had confronted her.