Magdalen smiled, and said, ‘I know that his tastes are for anything exciting, anything highly flavoured. What will you wager that he is tired of the turf in a year from now?’ ‘Nothing at all. If I did wager on that subject, I would wager to the contrary.’ ‘Well, I think his superfluous cash would be more respectably employed in setting your factories going.’ Here a loud ring sounded through the house. ‘I should not wonder if that were Michael calling,’ said Magdalen, and she spoke in hurried tones. ‘Remember, Gilbert, not a word of this. I feel better for speaking to you; and Michael is good, oh, so much better than any of us! And he has cares of his own. And you will be my brother, some day. Do you understand?’ ‘My dear Magdalen, of course! Do not distress yourself, pray. There is no need,’ he assured her, as Michael entered. ‘Why, Gilbert, that is well,’ said he, with a look of great pleasure. ‘I have often wished that you could spare time to ride out and have a chat with Magdalen now and then. Where did you meet?’ Michael sat half an hour, and then the brothers rode home in company. Magdalen, when the two young men had left her, sat for a long time over the fire, gazing into its glow, her elbows propped on her knees. ‘Gilbert is very observant—remarkably observant,’ she thought to herself. ‘Who would have thought that he would see so quickly, and Michael be so blind? And yet again, Gilbert sees, but sees only to dissect—without any feeling, unless it be a feeling of pleasure in showing one his power. Michael does not see, but if he did he would sympathise. He is grand—at least, he would be if he were awake. With all his love for me, I have not been able to awaken him. His time is yet to come. Sympathise—yes; but what is sympathy? He can’t give me what I want. Here am I, beautiful, yes, very beautiful, and very strong, and with some brains in my head, though they all think I have none. And I have to live, to vegetate, that is, as if I were some worn-out old woman, as if I were my own great-aunt. It is horrible, horrible, and I do not know how long I shall be able to bear it.’ A dreary blank seemed to open before her mind’s eye, and still she sat motionless, staring into the fire.