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ould　be　seen　climbing　steeply　up　past　walls　covered　with　a　shining　paper　cut　by　narrow　red　lines　into　small　yellow　squares。　　An　almanack；　of　so　floral　a　design　that　nobody　would　surely　want　to　steal　it；　hung　on　the　wall；　below　it　was　an　umbrella　stand　without　umbrellas。　　The　dim　little　passage　led　past　two　grimly　closed　doors　painted　rusty　red　to　two　half…open　doors　with　dull　glass　in　their　panels。　　Outside；　in　the　street　from　which　they　had　mounted　by　stone　steps；　a　shower　of　sleet　had　begun　to　fall。　　Hilary　shut　the　door；　but　the　cold　spirit　of　that　shower　had　already　slipped　into　the　bleak；　narrow　house。

〃This　is　the　apartment；　m'm；〃　said　the　landlady；　opening　the　first　of　the　rusty…coloured　doors。　　The　room；　which　had　a　paper　of　blue　roses　on　a　yellow　ground；　was　separated　from　another　room　by　double　doors。

〃I　let　the　rooms　together　sometimes；　but　just　now　that　room's　taken　a　young　gentleman　in　the　City；　that's　why　I'm　able　to　let　this　cheap。〃

Cecilia　looked　at　Hilary。　　〃I　hardly　think…〃

The　landlady　quickly　turned　the　handles　of　the　doors；　showing　that　they　would　not　open。

〃I　keep　the　key；〃　she　said。　　〃There's　a　bolt　on　both　sides。〃

Reassured；　Cecilia　walked　round　the　room　as　far　as　this　was　possible；　for　it　was　practically　all　furniture。　　There　was　the　same　little　wrinkle　across　her　nose　as　across　Thyme's　nose　when　she　spoke　of　Hound　Street。　　Suddenly　she　caught　sight　of　Hilary。　　He　was　standing　with　his　back　against　the　door。　　On　his　face　was　a　strange　and　bitter　look；　such　as　a　man　might　have　on　seeing　the　face　of　Ugliness　herself；　feeling　that　she　was　not　only　without　him；　but　withina　universal　spirit；　the　look　of　a　man　who　had　thought　that　he　was　chivalrous；　and　found　that　he　was　not；　of　a　leader　about　to　give　an　order　that　he　would　not　himself　have　executed。

Seeing　that　look；　Cecilia　said　with　some　haste：

〃It's　all　very　nice　and　clean；　it　will　do　very　well；　I　think。　　Seven　shillings　a　week；　I　believe　you　said。　　We　will　take　it　for　a　fortnight；　at　all　events。〃

The　first　glimmer　of　a　smile　appeared　on　the　landlady's　grim　face；　with　its　hungry　eyes；　sweetened　by　patience。

〃When　would　she　be　coming　in？〃　　she　asked。

〃When　do　you　think；　Hilary？〃

〃I　don't　know；〃　muttered　Hilary。〃　　The　sooner　the　betterif　it　must　be。　　To…morrow；　or　the　day　after。〃

And　with　one　look　at　the　bed；　covered　by　a　piece　of　cheap　red…and…　yellow　tasselled　tapestry；　he　went　out　into　the　street。　　The　shower　was　over；　but　the　house　faced　north；　and　no　sun　was　shining　on　it。




CHAPTER　XXII

HILARY　PUTS　AN　END　TO　IT

Like　flies　caught　among　the　impalpable　and　smoky　threads　of　cobwebs；　so　men　struggle　in　the　webs　of　their　own　natures；　giving　here　a　start；　there　a　pitiful　small　jerking；　long　sustained；　and　failing　into　stillness。　　Enmeshed　they　were　born；　enmeshed　they　die；　fighting　according　to　their　strength　to　the　end；　to　fight　in　the　hope　of　freedom；　their　joy；　to　die；　not　knowing　they　are　beaten；　their　reward。　　Nothing；　too；　is　more　to　be　remarked　than　the　manner　in　which　Life　devises　for　each　man　the　particular　dilemmas　most　suited　to　his　nature；　that　which　to　the　man　of　gross；　decided；　or　fanatic　turn　of　mind　appears　a　simple　sum；　to　the　man　of　delicate　and　speculative　temper　seems　to　have　no　answer。


So　it　was　with　Hilary　in　that　special　web　wherein　his　spirit　struggled；　sunrise　unto　sunset；　and　by　moonlight　afterward。　Inclination；　and　the　circumstances　of　a　life　which　had　never　forced　him　to　grips　with　either　men　or　women；　had　detached　him　from　the　necessity　for　giving　or　taking　orders。　　He　had　almost　lost　the　faculty。　　Life　had　been　a　picture　with　blurred　outlines　melting　into　a　softly　shaded　whole。　　Not　for　years　had　anything　seemed　to　him　quite　a　case　for　〃Yes〃　or　〃No。〃　　It　had　been　his　creed；　his　delight；　his　business；　too；　to　try　and　put　himself　in　everybody's　place；　so　that　now　there　were　but　few　places　where　he　did　not；　speculatively　speaking；　feel　at　home。

Putting　himself　into　the　little　model's　place　gave　him　but　small　delight。　　Making　due　allowance　for　the　sentiment　men　naturally　import　into　their　appreciation　of　the　lives　of　women；　his　conception　of　her　place　was　doubtless　not　so　very　wrong。

Here　was　a　child；　barely　twenty　years　of　age；　country　bred；　neither　a　lady　nor　quite　a　working…girl；　without　a　home　or　relatives；　according　to　her　own　accountat　all　events；　without　those　who　were　disposed　to　help　herwithout　apparently　any　sort　of　friend；　helpless　by　nature；　and　whose　profession　required　a　more　than　common　warinessthis　girl　he　was　proposing　to　set　quite　adrift　again　by　cutting　through　the　single　slender　rope　which　tethered　her。　　It　was　like　digging　up　a　little　rose…tree　planted　with　one's　own　hands　in　some　poor　shelter；　just　when　it　had　taken　root；　and　setting　it　where　the　full　winds　would　beat　against　it。　　To　do　so　brusque　and；　as　it　seemed　to　Hilary；　so　inhumane　a　thing　was　foreign　to　his　nature。　　There　was　also　the　little　matter　of　that　touch　of　feverthe　distant　music　he　had　been　hearing　since　the　waggons　came　in　to　Covent　Garden。

With　a　feeling　that　was　almost　misery；　therefore；　he　waited　for　her　on　Monday　afternoon；　walking　to　and　fro　in　his　study；　where　all　the　walls　were　white；　and　all　the　woodwork　coloured　like　the　leaf　of　a　cigar；　where　the　books　were　that　colour　too；　in　Hilary's　special　deerskin　binding；　where　there　were　no　flowers　nor　any　sunlight　coming　through　the　windows；　but　plenty　of　sheets　of　papera　room　which　youth　seemed　to　have　left　for　ever；　the　room　of　middle　age！

He　called　her　in　with　the　intention　of　at　once　saying　what　he　had　to　say；　and　getting　it　over　in　the　fewest　words。　　But　he　had　not　reckoned　fully　either　with　his　own　nature　or　with　woman's　instinct。　Nor　had　he　allowedbeing；　for　all　his　learning；　perhaps　because　of　it；　singularly　unable　to　gauge　the　effects　of　simple　actionsfor　the　proprietary　relations　he　had　established　in　the　girl's　mind　by　giving　her　those　clothes。

As　a　dog　whose　master　has　it　in　his　mind　to　go　away　from　him；　stands　gazing　up　with　tragic　inquiry　in　his　eyes；　scenting　to　his　soul　that　coming　crueltyas　a　dog　thus　soon　to　be　bereaved；　so　stood　the　little　model。

By　the　pose　of　every　limb；　and　a　fixed　gaze　bright　as　if　tears　were　behind　it；　and　by　a　sort　of　trembling；　she　seemed　to　say：　'I　know　why　you　have　sent　for　me。'

When　Hilary　saw　her　stand　like　that　he　felt　as　a　man　might　when　told　to　flog　his　fellow…creature。　　To　gain　time　he　asked　her　what　she　did　with　herself　all　day。　　The　little　model　evidently　tried　to　tell　herself　that　her　foreboding　had　been　needless。

Now　that　the　mornings　were　niceshe　said　with　some　animationshe　got　up　much　earlier；　and　did　her　needlework　first　thing；　she　then　〃did　out〃　the　room。　　There　were　mouse…holes　in　her　room；　and　she　had　bought　a　trap。　　She　had　caught　a　mouse　last　night。　　She　hadn't　liked　to　kill　it；　she　had　put　it　in　a　tin　box；　and　let　it　go　when　she　went　out。　　Quick　to　see　that　Hilary　was　interested　in　this；　as　well　he　might　be；　she　told　him　that　she　could　not　bear　to　see　cats　hungry　or　lost　dogs；　especially　lost　dogs；　and　she　described　to　him　one　that　she　had　seen。　　She　had　not　liked　to　tell　a　policeman；　they　stared　so　hard。　　Those　words　were　of　strange　omen；　and　Hilary　turned　his　head　away。　　The　little　model；　perceiving　that　she　had　made　an　effect　of　some　sort；　tried　to　deepen　it。　　She　had　heard　they　did　all　sorts　of　things　to　peoplebut；　seeing　at　once　from　Hilary's　face　that　she　was　not　improving　her　effect；　she　broke　off　suddenly；　and　hastily　began　to　tell　him　of　her　breakfast；　of　how　comfortable　she　was　now　she　had　got　her　clothes；　how　she　liked　her　room；　how　old　Mr。　Creed　was　very　funny；　never　taking　any　notice　of　her　when　he　met　her　in　the　morning。　Then　followed　a　minute　account　of　where　she　had　been　trying　to　get　work；　of　an　engagement　promised；　Mr。　Lennard；　too；　still　wanted　her　to　pose　to　him。　　At　this　she　gashed　a　look　at　Hilary；　then　cast　down　her　eyes。　　She　could　get　plenty　of　work　if　she　began　that　way。　　But　she　hadn't；　because　he　had　told　her　not；　and；　of　course；　she　didn't　want　to；　she　liked　coming　to　Mr。　Stone　so　much。　　And　she　got　on　very　well；　and　she　liked　London；　and　she　liked　the　shops。　　She　mentioned　neither　Hughs　nor　Mrs。　Hughs。　　In　all　this　rigmarole；　told　with　such　obvious　purpose；　stolidity　was　strangely　mingled　with　almost　cunning　quickness　to　see　the　effect　made；　but　the　dog…like　devotion　was　never　quite　out　of　her　eyes　when　they　were　fixed　on　Hilary。

This　look　got　through　the　weakest　places　in　what　little　armour　Nature　had　bestowed　on　him。　　It　touched　one　of　the　least　conceited　and　most　amiable　of　men　profoundly。　　He　felt　it　an　honour　that　anything　so　young　as　this　should　regard　him　in　that　way。　　He　had　always　tried　to　keep　out　of　his　mind　that　which　might　have　given　him　the　key　to　her　special　feeling　for　himselfthose　words　of　the　painter　of　still　life：　〃She's　got　a　story　of　some　sort。〃　　But　it　flashed　across　him　suddenly　like　an　inspiration：　If　her　story　were　the　simplest　of　all　storiesthe　direct；　rather　brutal；　love　affair　of　a　village　boy　and　girlwould　not　she；　naturally　given　to　surrender；　be　forced　this　time　to　the　very　antithesis　of　that　young　animal　amour　which　had　brought　on　her　such；　sharp　consequences？

But；　wherever　her　devotion　came　fro