But she was not so sorely troubled as the object of her interest, who angered himself in vain because of the chaotic state of his mind. Battle, battle--ever the same useless struggle, till he was ashamed of his weakness and want of self-control. To-day victor, to-morrow vanquished; now reviling himself for his want of faith and cruel suspicions, which he owned were almost baseless; the next day a slave to duty, and forbidding his heart to harbour further thoughts of her he now called his enemy. Work seemed the only refuge, and he toiled on. Study he could not; but he visited from house to house in the fold of Bennett's-rents, where the tainted sheep of his flock were gathered; and hiding from himself his real feelings--a shallow pretence--he knew the while how anxious he was respecting that little ewe-lamb. But he drew a mask over his face, telling himself it was his true countenance; and with a calmness that was but on the surface, he called frequently to see the invalid mother, timing, however, his visits that they might be made while Lucy was absent--for duty's sake (and he now knew pretty well when she was likely to visit the warehouse); while, when he had visited the Bents, and returned without seeing her, he credited duty largely, and praised his own self-denial. All steps, he flattered himself, towards the final conquest which he would achieve; but though casting out the weak thoughts, he told himself that it was his duty to satisfy his heart concerning the doubts which so constantly tormented him. How often the hours came when he scorned his dissimulation, and tore off the mask, none knew; but his face grew more pale and livid, and the grey hairs that sprinkled his temples were thicker than of old.