"I am sorry to have frightened you." "Frightened!" repeated Gartley, with an attempt at a smile, which closed in a yet more anxious look, "--you do indeed frighten me! The whole world would agree you give me good cause to be frightened. I should never have thought _you_ capable of showing such a lack of principle. Don't imagine I am thinking of myself; _you_ are in most danger! Still, you may carry the infection without taking it yourself!" "I didn't know it was there when I went to the house--only I should have gone all the same," said Hester. "But if seeing you so suddenly had not made me forget, I should have had a bath as soon as I got home. I _am_ sorry I let you come near me!" "One has no right either to take or carry infection," insisted lord Gartley, perhaps a little glad of the height upon which an opportunity of finding fault set him for the first time above her. "But there is no time to talk about it now. I hope you will use what preventives you can. It is very wrong to trifle with such things!" "Indeed it is!" answered Hester; "and I say again I am sorry I forgot. You see how it was--don't you? It was you made me forget!" But his lordship was by no means now in a smiling mood. He bade her a somewhat severe good night, then hesitated, and thinking it hardly signified now, and he must not look too much afraid, held out his hand. But Hester drew back a third time, saying, "No, no; you must not," and with solemn bow he turned and went, his mind full of conflicting feelings and perplexing thoughts:--What a glorious creature she was!--and what a dangerous! He recalled the story of the young woman brought up on poisons, whom no man could come near but at the risk of his life. What a spirit she had! but what a pity it was so ill-directed! It was horrible to think of her going into such abominable places--and all alone too! How ill she had been trained!--in such utter disregard of social obligation and the laws of nature! It was preposterous! He little thought what risks he ran when he fell in love with _her_! If he got off now without an attack he would be lucky! But--good heavens! if she were to take it herself! "I wonder when she was last vaccinated!" he said. "I was last year; I daresay I'm all right! But if she were to die, or lose her complexion, I should kill myself! I know I should!" Would honor compel him to marry her if she were horribly pock-marked? Those dens ought to be rooted out! Philanthropy was gone mad! It was strict repression that was wanted! To sympathize with people like that was only to encourage them! Vice was like hysterics--the more kindness you showed the worse grew the patient! They took it all as their right! And the more you gave, the more they demanded--never showing any gratitude so far as he knew! CHAPTER XXXIX. THE MAJOR AND THE SMALL-POX.