On the first day of Shelley’s absence, when Hogg left his chambers he took Harriet for a walk by the river. He gazed in her eyes with delight, and murmured a thousand foolish things. She talked of her husband whose return she longed for, partly for his own sake but chiefly because he was to bring with him her dearest Eliza. “Eliza is very beautiful as you will see, she has splendid hair, jet black, glossy . . . she is awfully clever . . . it is she who has always guided me in the important affairs of my life.” “The child has had important affairs in its life?” Harriet spoke of her martyrdom at school . . . of the obstacles to her marriage . . . she remained pensive a moment plunged in the past . . . then, “What is your opinion of suicide? Did you never think of destroying yourself?” “Never! Nor you either, I should hope?” “Oh yes, very often. Even at school I used to get up in the night with the fixed intention of killing myself. I would look out of the window, and say good-bye to the moon and the stars, to the sleeping girls . . . and then I would go back to bed again and fall asleep.” The walk continued, so did their intimate talk. Then they went home to make the tea, a ceremony during which Hogg was always extremely funny. After tea Harriet offered to read to him, but of what she read to him that evening he retained no notion. When she said “good night” and left him, he asked himself, “Is she really _good_?” When he saw her next day he told her he was madly in love with her. Harriet was upset and indignant. For a child of sixteen, she defended herself fairly well. She spoke of Shelley and of Virtue. “Don’t you see how odious your behaviour is? Percy gave me into your care and you betray his confidence. . . . But I’m sure you are cured already. . . . Please don’t say another word about it. . . . And I will say nothing to Percy so as not to grieve him.” She spoke with vivacity. Love scenes are a pretty woman’s battlefields and soldiers enjoy fighting. Harriet’s courage was victorious, and Hogg promised to be good. That evening, when he returned from work, he saw sitting by Harriet’s side on the sofa a big woman, with raven-black hair, a face of a dead white, and a horse-like profile. “Hogg, this is Eliza, she is come, isn’t it kind of her? Eliza, this is Hogg, our greatest friend, of whom Percy has so often spoken to you.” Eliza shadowed him a bow from the nape of her neck. “I thought Bysshe was to have brought you with him?” “Oh dear no!” said Eliza, and she went on talking to Harriet and paid him no further attention. Hogg was not used to such treatment in the Shelleys’ house. “So this is Eliza?” he thought. “She is hideous and common-looking. Here’s an end to my flirtation with Harriet—though perhaps that’s just as well. . . .” “Harriet, dearest,” he said aloud, “aren’t we going to have any tea to-day? You don’t take tea, Miss Westbrook?” he inquired, turning to her politely. “Oh dear no!” replied that lady.