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Flaxman came into the room first, and in her mild, incurious fashion said: "We were hunting for you last evening. Mr. Winthrop wished to see you about something." I did not reply, neither did she inquire where I had bestowed myself out of reach of their voices. I felt certain Mr. Winthrop's curiosity would be more insistent, and was quite right in my conjectures.
Winthrop is a very uncomfortable sort of person to live with, but I think he will have more noble qualities to carry somewhere after death than the average of my acquaintances. What a pity it is for such splendid powers of mind to be lost! He has the materials in him to make a grand angel." Mrs. Flaxman looked up quickly. "You cannot think it is his ultimate destiny to be lost?" she questioned.
'I think you must get him home, call in a first-rate doctor, and keep him quiet, said Flaxman. 'He will be all right presently. 'How can we keep him quiet? said Catherine, with a momentary despair in her fine pale face. 'All day long and all night long he is thinking of his work. It is like something fiery burning the heart out of him.
'You won't you won't ever be angry with me for making you wait like that? It was impertinent it was like a child playing tricks! Flaxman was deeply shocked by the change in Robert. He was terribly emaciated. They could only talk at rare intervals in the day; and it was clear that his nights were often one long struggle for breath.
'Clergyman's throat? Edmondson shook his bead dubiously. 'It may be. I wish he would let me overhaul him. 'I wish he would! said Flaxman devoutly. 'I will see what I can do. I will get hold of Mrs. Elsmere. Meanwhile Robert and Catherine had driven home together. And as they entered the study, she caught his hands, a suppressed and exquisite passion gleaming in her face.
Rose rarely talked to him, and was always ready to make him the target of a sub-acid raillery. Agnes was clearly indifferent to him, and Mrs. Leyburn equally clearly afraid of him. Mrs. Elsmere, too, seemed to dislike him, and yet there he was, week after week. Flaxman could not make it out. Then he tried to explore the man himself.
Flaxman has certainly not given him the look of a large proprietor in his outlines: his toilet is severely scant, and the old gentleman appears to have lost two of his fingers in a chaff-cutter. "Thus the sex began A lovely mischief to the soul of man."
With my intense nature, so susceptible either to pleasure or pain, those lonely hours in my own room, that bitter day, left their trace on heart and body for long weary weeks. When at last Mrs. Flaxman came to me, her own face sad and troubled, I no longer felt the cold in my fireless room; for the blood now was rushing feverishly in my veins, and my head throbbing with intense pain.
She was too far gone to resist, and when she was mistress of herself again she found herself in the library with some water in her hand which Mr. Flaxman had just put there. 'Is it the playing hand? said Lady Helen anxiously. 'No, said Rose, trying to laugh; 'the bowing elbow. And she raised it but with a contortion of pain. 'Don't raise it, he said peremptorily.
James's Park, Robert first met a man who was to give him the opening for which he was looking. Mr. Flaxman was fond of breakfast parties
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