XIII + 

Felise was thinking: тАЬHow well he talksтБатАФwhat ideas he has! his voice is low, but it is deep and strong; his lips are well-shapedтБатАФI should like a kiss. That is a shabby old coat; yes, your coat is much worn, sir, but it suits you; you look a gentleman all the more, perhaps. How I should like to give you a new one! Who gave you that gold pin in your tie, I wonderтБатАФsome woman? His ears are good; most men have ill-formed ears. His hair is very fine, like silk. I wonder what he is thinking ofтБатАФmeтБатАФis he thinking of me at all? There is a small mole on his neck. Why doesnтАЩt he look at meтБатАФhe has such fine eyes? Your hands are not small, sir, nor are they white. I do not like white hands; they look as if they could not do anything. Your hands are a little sun-browned, and they are not small and feeble; I think you could give anyone a hard knock, though you are not very big. Why donтАЩt you look at me? Look at me straight in the face, now do, thereтАЩs a dear! I hope he is trustful, but why does he look away?тБатАФhe looks anywhere rather than at me. Yes, you have a very good neckтБатАФthat makes your head appear so good. Why do you want to hide your eyes? I wish my hair was just the same shade as his; how nice it must be to have hair that colour! His boots have been mended. Ah! it is hard times with himтБатАФwish I was sharing them! His handkerchief wants darning. How glad I am I gave him his horse again! How angry papa will be when he finds out what I did! He is handsomeтБатАФI wonder how many girls have flattered him! I dare say he is quite spoilt. Will he ever like me? He will not look at me; I will contradict him presently, then perhaps he will.тАЭ + 

Martial was thinking: тАЬHow fortunate I exhausted all my romance before I met her! There is no knowing to what lengths I should have gone; but luckily all those extravagances are gone by. These are very common old Windsor chairs. I donтАЩt believe our miserly steward has a respectable chair in his dog-kennel, i.e. his houseтБатАФwretched hard old chairs; but how gracefully she rests herself in hers! Her body seems to poise on itself and repose without the chair, as if the chair was merely put there to content the eye of the spectator; she rests like an Immortal on the ether. Really she does do things nicelyтБатАФto see her walk, it is a picture. I think she sighs now and then. I believe she breathed more deeply just then; of course she does that because it makes her bust swell and fall more. Oh yes, the cunning of these women is something beyond the power of man to circumvent. Breathe as deeply as you like, it is no use. I am case-hardened. I have been through all these experiencesтБатАФold birds and chaff, you have heard. Very beautiful no doubt, but still a woman. Very interesting indeed. I know more than you think. What a lovely shoulder she has beneath that dressтБатАФI shall never forget it. You donтАЩt know what a view I had when you were bathing. And her hair reaches down to her knee, very nearly; thick, too, wavy and fine. But that is nothing to her shape and her kneeтБатАФthere, she has just moved her knee. I can see it quite plainly through the dress as I saw it then, white and dewy from the water. She makes believe to listen to everything I sayтБатАФjust as if she cared, just as if she liked what I say about things. What a stupid I am to talk to her of anything beside a bonnet! I can feel she keeps looking at me; very likely she wants to try another glance on meтБатАФlong and passionate. No, no, nothing of the kind; I wonтАЩt permit you. I will keep my eyes on the grass or the trees as firm as possible. In the sonnets there is a lineтБатАФpooh! I will not remember such folly. I wish she would move a little farther away. I can feel her sitting near me. I donтАЩt like thisтБатАФwhenтАЩs Godwin coming? I must get out of it. Her shoulder and her neck, and her white kneeтБатАФher dress is quite transparent to me. I never could have thought there was anyone so lovely in the world. Now her handтБатАФthere it is drooping; it is not only white, it is lit up within with some delicious lightтБатАФsome clearness, as if it was the dawn under the skin. There, she has raised her hand; she rests her head against it a moment. Now see, it is not transparent like that of anyone very ill; it is plump, but it is alight, aglowтБатАФthe dawn is inside it. She is Greek, and yet she is not; she is English-Greek; the mingling of the styles of the antique and the English produces the greatest beauty. She feels delicious to sit by; something seems to influence me; it is extraordinarily pleasant sitting by her. There is something dreamy in it, as if she were Cytherea. Here, what am I at! Romancing. SheтАЩs only a woman. However, I need not worry myself about occasional lapses. I am hardened enough, in all conscience. This sort of creature is very well as a Picture; you donтАЩt want to get excited over it. She looked straight at me then. No, I am not going to look at youтБатАФmuch too cold for that. Must say something, I suppose. Now I have sat by her once, I could do so every day without the least danger. There, the sunlight has touched her hairтБатАФтАЭ + 

Aloud he said: тАЬThe sun is still very warm, although sinking.тАЭ + 

тАЬThe warm weather is welcome to you, I suppose; it is good for your wheat, is it not?тАЭ she replied. + 

тАЬYes, it is; still it is not much use. It is too lateтБатАФor seems so. Any weather is good enough for a despised farmer.тАЭ + 

тАЬI do not see why they should be despised.тАЭ + 

тАЬI am weary of it,тАЭ said Martial, suddenly throwing off his air of studied indifference. тАЬWe go onтБатАФat least I doтБатАФfrom hand to mouth, year after year; it is a most unpleasant position. We are permitted to existтБатАФon charity. As a great favour, out of his gracious benevolence our landlord presents us with ten percentтБатАФas a present, not as our right. I think I shall get out of it. I am very much inclined to sell off and go to the StatesтБатАФтАЭ + 

тАЬThe States!тАЭ repeated Felise in a low voice, shocked and alarmed. + 

тАЬYes, I think so. This system of touch-the-hat is too much for me. Certainly the farmers are very much to blame; it is perfectly sickening to see their servility, all praising and be-lauding and applauding the very men they hate. There is nothing sturdy or independent about the British farmer of our dayтБатАФtruckling to the landlord, and truckling to the steward, and truckling to the solicitor, and truckling to the parson; it is most contemptible. If they had had the courage to say what they thought, and if they had had the common sense to combine together, they could have done whatever they chose. But as for combination, they are incapable of it. Now it is too late. + 

тАЬWhy too late?тАЭ + 

тАЬThe labourersтБатАФyour old cottager, for instanceтБатАФare going to have votes, and in future the country, I mean the rural districts, will be in their hands. The farmers as a governing class will disappear.тАЭ + 

тАЬThen old Abner will be able to stay in his cottage,тАЭ said Felise, naturally jumping to a conclusion. + 

тАЬEvents will not move quick enough to serve him, I fear,тАЭ said Martial. тАЬHis wrong is but one among so many. What rouses my indignation is the complacent assertion that there is really nothing wrong. So much philanthropy, and so many reforms in workhouses and prisons, and in the laws, they say, have removed everything cruel and harsh, while I believe it is just the reverse; I believe there is just as much cruelty and harshness in the workhouses and prisons and infirmariesтБатАФin the whole systemтБатАФas ever there was. Really, I do think that the more philanthropy is talked about, and especially scientific philanthropy, the more individual suffering there is. It is all so vague. They give thousands to hospitalsтБатАФnot a penny to a poor man. Cornleigh Cornleigh would subscribe a hundred pounds to a new hospital, but he would not permit your aged cottager to stay in his homeтБатАФnothing of the sort; drive him to the workhouse. There is nothing so cold-hearted as philanthropy.тАЭ + 

тАЬYou mean it is all given to the buildings, and not to the sufferers.тАЭ + 

тАЬThat is it; but I am afraid the sun is too warm for you.тАЭ The sunset-glow now came full upon FeliseтАЩs face. + 

тАЬNo, not at all. Besides, I have my sunshade.тАЭ + 

She had her sunshade, indeed, and had thrown it carelessly over her shoulder, so that if the sun had been shining at her back it would have protected her; but the rays came from the right handтБатАФacross MartialтБатАФso that the parasol was useless in the position she had it. If she had shaded herself from the sun she could not have seen him, as the parasol would interveneтБатАФthat was the reason of her apparent carelessness. + 

The door of the house creaked, and Robert Godwin came out; they rose and met him. He said that he should not require MartialтАЩs services further that eveningтБатАФwould he come the day after next? Martial agreed, and went to fetch Ruy from the stable. Both of them accompanied Felise some way towards her home, then wished her тАЬgood evening,тАЭ and parted. + 

The same scene occurred on the next occasion of BarnardтАЩs visit to Godwin; Martial and Felise sat in the scanty shade of the poplars on the white-green lawn, thinking of one thing, and talking of another. + 

That the altered position of their affairs might be thrown into relief, it seemed best to delineate the circumstances first before explaining them; just as actors come on the stage and begin to tell their story afterwards. Robert Godwin had contrived this, and every other evening Felise and Martial, in the shade of the tall poplar, sat on his lawn, idle, side by side, till the glow of the sunset touched her cheek. + 