Produced by Charles Aldarondo. HTML version by Al Haines. The Emancipated by George Gissing CONTENTS PART I I NORTHERNERS IN SUNLIGHT II CECILY DORAN III THE BOARDING-HOUSE ON THE MERGELLINA IV MIRIAM'S BROTHER V THE ARTIST ASTRAY VI CAPTIVE TRAVELLERS VII THE MARTYR VIII PROOF AGAINST ILLUSION IX IN THE DEAD CITY X THE DECLARATION XI THE APPEAL TO AUTHORITY XII ON THE HEIGHTS XIII ECHO AND PRELUDE XIV ON THE WINGS OF THE MORNING XV "WOLF!" XVI LETTERS PART II I A CORNER OF SOCIETY II THE PROPRIETIES DEFENDED III GRADATION IV THE DENYERS IN ENGLAND V MULTUM IN PARVO VI AT PAESTUM VII LEARNING AND TEACHING VIII STUMBLINGS IX SILENCES X ELGAR AT WORK XI IN DUE COURSE XII CECILY'S RETURN XIII ONWARD TO THE VAGUE XIV SUGGESTION AND ASSURANCE XV PEACE IN SHOW AND PEACE IN TRUTH XVI THE TWO FACES XVII END AND BEGINNING PART I. CHAPTER I NORTHERNERS IN SUNLIGHT By a window looking from Posillipo upon the Bay of Naples sat an English lady, engaged in letter-writing. She was only in her four-and-twentieth year, but her attire of subdued mourning indicated widowhood already at the stage when it is permitted to make quiet suggestion of freedom rather than distressful reference to loss; the dress, however, was severely plain, and its grey coldness, which would well have harmonized with an English sky in this month of November, looked alien in the southern sunlight. There was no mistaking her nationality; the absorption, the troubled earnestness with which she bent over her writing, were peculiar to a cast of features such as can be found only in our familiar island; a physiognomy not quite pure in outline, vigorous in general effect and in detail delicate; a proud young face, full of character and capacity, beautiful in chaste control. Sorrowful it was not, but its paleness and thinness expressed something more than imperfect health of body; the blue-grey eyes, when they wandered for a moment in an effort of recollection, had a look of weariness, even of ennui; the lips moved as if in nervous impatience until she had found the phrase or the thought for which her pen waited. Save for these intervals, she wrote with quick decision, in a large clear hand, never underlining, but frequently supplying the emphasis of heavy stroke in her penning of a word. At the end of her letters came a signature excellent in individuality: "Miriam Baske."