‘It is monstrous!’ burst from the young man. ‘They are taking advantage of her innocence. She is a child. Why do they educate girls like that? I should say, how can they leave them so uneducated? In an ideal world it would be all very well, but see what comes of it here? She is walking with her eyes open into horrors and curses, and understands as little of what awaits her as a lamb led to butchery. Do you stand by and say nothing?’ ‘It surprises me that you are so affected,’ remarked the vicar quietly. ‘No doubt. I can’t reason about it. But I know that my life will be hideous if this goes on to the end.’ ‘You are late.’ ‘Yes, I am late. I was in Wanley some weeks ago; I did not tell you of it. I called at their house; they were not at home to me. Yet Adela was sitting at the window. What did that mean? Is her mother so contemptible that my change of fortune leads her to treat me in that way?’ ‘But does no other reason occur to you?’ asked Mr. Wyvern, with grave surprise. ‘Other reason! What other?’ ‘You must remember that gossip is active.’ ‘You mean that they have heard abou--?’ ‘Somehow it had become the common talk of the village very shortly after my arrival here.’ Hubert dropped his eyes in bewilderment. ‘Then they think me unfit to associate with them? She--Adela will look upon me as a vile creature! But it wasn’t so when I saw her immediately after my illness. She talked freely and with just the same friendliness as before.’ ‘Probably she had heard nothing then.’ ‘And her mother only began to poison her mind when it was advantageous to do so?’ Hubert laughed bitterly. ‘Well, there is an end of it,’ he pursued. ‘Yes, I was forgetting all that. Oh, it is quite intelligible; I don’t blame them. By all means let her be preserved from contagion! Pooh! I don’t know my own mind. Old fancies that I used to have somehow got hold of me again If I ever marry, it must be a woman of the world, a woman with brain and heart to judge human nature. It is gone, as if I had never had such a thought. Poor child, to be sure; but that’s all one can say.’ His tone was as far from petulance as could be. Hubert’s emotions were never feebly coloured; his nature ran into extremes, and vehemence of scorn was in him the true voice of injured tenderness. Of humility he knew but little, least of all where his affections were concerned, but there was the ring of noble metal in his self-assertion. He would never consciously act or speak a falsehood, and was intolerant of the lies, petty or great, which conventionality and warped habits of thought encourage in those of weaker personality. ‘Let us be just,’ remarked Mr. Wyvern, his voice sounding rather sepulchral after the outburst of youthful passion. ‘Mrs. Waltham’s point of view is not inconceivable. I, as you know, am not altogether a man of formulas, but I am not sure that my behaviour would greatly differ from hers in her position; I mean as regards yourself.’