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Cytherea was ready in a few moments, and entered the carriage. Soft as was Cytherea's motion along the corridors of Knapwater House, the preternaturally keen intelligence of the suffering woman caught the maiden's well-known footfall. She entered the sick-chamber with suspended breath.
The document would not be a death-bed confession perhaps not worth anything legally but it would be held by Owen; and he alone, as Cytherea's natural guardian, could separate them on the mere ground of an unproved probability, or what might perhaps be called the hallucination of an idiot.
Eventually Huntway said that circumstances had rendered Graye's attachment more hopeless still. Cytherea's mother had unexpectedly inherited a large fortune and estates in the west of England by the rapid fall of some intervening lives. This had caused their removal from the small house in Bloomsbury, and, as it appeared, a renunciation of their old friends in that quarter.
Then he went to the window and stared out of it up the lane, vainly endeavouring to come to some conclusion upon the fantastic enigma that confronted him. Cytherea's new view seemed incredible, yet it had such a hold upon her that it would be necessary to clear it away by positive proof before contemplation of her fear should have preyed too deeply upon her.
'It is a beginning, and, above all, an abiding-place, away from the shadow of the cloud which hangs over us here I will go, said Owen. Cytherea's plan for her future, an intensely simple one, owing to the even greater narrowness of her resources, was already marked out. One advantage had accrued to her through her mother's possession of a fair share of personal property, and perhaps only one.
Emotions will attach themselves to scenes that are simultaneous however foreign in essence these scenes may be as chemical waters will crystallize on twigs and wires. Even after that time any mental agony brought less vividly to Cytherea's mind the scene from the Town Hall windows than sunlight streaming in shaft-like lines.
In the room everything was so still, and sensation was as it were so rarefied by solicitude, that thinking seemed acting, and the lady's weak act of trying to live a silent wrestling with all the powers of the universe. Nobody was present but Mr. Raunham, the nurse having left the room on Cytherea's entry, and the physician and surgeon being engaged in a whispered conversation in a side-chamber.
"Humorous reproof:" that's not from a woman: who can reprove humorously but a man? was the groove of Cytherea's thought at the remark. 'Your brother reproves you, I expect, said that innocent young lady. 'No, said Miss Hinton, with a candid air. ''Tis only a professional man I am acquainted with. She looked out of the window. Women are persistently imitative.
The steward, too, knew Cytherea's attachment to Edward, and looked keenly and inscrutably at him. Manston went homeward alone, his heart full of strange emotions. Entering the house, and dismissing the woman to her own home, he at once proceeded upstairs to his bedroom.
I will here insert, though with no excuse, except that it came to memory at the time, this description of Titian's Venus and Adonis. "On one side slumbers the little God of Love, as an emblem, I suppose, that only the love of man is worth embodying, for surely Cytherea's is awake enough.
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