Again, since his marriage--indeed, ever since he had left Hall, he had felt the irksomeness of being without money, he had discovered the value of coin, and had learned that it could not be thrown away. He had nothing of his own, what coins he had in his pocket came to him from his wife. Now he was in a house where money seemed to be disregarded. He need not drink sour cider, but take his choice of wines. He was not served at table by one old maid-of-all-work, but by liveried footmen, in the blue and yellow Glanville colours. The table was furnished with abundance of plate, engraved with the Glanville stags or the Crymes martlet. At Willsworthy he had used bone-handled knives and forks, and had eaten off pewter. He danced with Julian once more. She was bright, sparkling with merriment, full of lively sally, and she looked marvellously pretty. Anthony wondered at himself for not having observed it before, or at not having sufficiently appreciated it. His sister arrived, somewhat late, and Anthony at once went to her, with both hands extended. "Is Urith here?" she asked. "No." "Why not?" "She was not invited." "Then why are you here?" "For this good reason, that I was invited." "But, Tony," said Bessie, "you ought not to have accepted unless she was asked as well." "Nonsense! Bet," exclaimed Anthony, fretfully. "I am not tied to her apron-strings. We have not met for months, and your first address to me is--a rebuke." He walked away, annoyed, and rejoined Julian. What! was he to be debarred visiting his friends--spending a pleasant social evening with them--because he was asked without his wife! "I say, Tony," said Fox, into his ear, "what do you think of Kilworthy now? You have thrown it away for the sake of a pair of sulky eyes--aye, and Hall, too? Well I have always heard say that love was madness; but I never believed it till I heard what you had done." Anthony's pleasure was spoiled. The contrast between Kilworthy and Willsworthy had been unconsciously drawn in his mind before; now it was fixed and brought into prominence, and he saw and realised in a moment the tremendous sacrifice he had made. From this minute he looked on all around him with other eyes. He saw what might have been his position, his wealth--how he would have been esteemed and envied had he followed the course mapped out for him by his father--had he taken Julian instead of Urith. He looked again at Julian--his eyes insensibly followed her--and again he marvelled that hitherto there had been a veil over them, so that he had not appreciated her beauty. He could not withdraw his eyes: they pursued her wherever she went. All at once she turned, with the consciousness that he was looking at her. Their eyes met, and he coloured to the temples. He blushed at his thoughts, for he was asking himself whether life, with such comfortable surroundings, would not have been more than bearable--even delightful--at her side.