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not need him； to walk alone； grave and abstracted。 There was a
weight on his brow； when nothing was going on to drive it away； and
whether it were nervousness as to the performance in store for him；
anxiety about Harry； or； as Mr。 Ogilvie said； too severe application；
some burden hung upon him； that was only lightened for the time by
his participation in the enjoyment of the party。
On Sunday evening； when they had been entering into the almost
vision…like delight of the choicest of music； and other
accompaniments of church service； they went to walk in Christchurch
Meadows。 They had begun altogether by comparing feelingsEthel
wondering whether Stoneborough Minster would ever be used as it might
be； and whether； if so； they should be practically the better for it；
and proceeding with metaphysics on her side； and satire on Norman
Ogilvie's； to speculate whether that which is； is best； and the
rights and wrongs of striving for change and improvements； what
should begin from above； and what from beneathwith illustrations
often laughter…moving； though they were much in earnest； as the young
heir of Glenbracken looked into his future life。
Flora had diverged into wondering who would have the living after
poor old Mr。 Ramsden； and walked； keeping her husband amused with
instances of his blunders。
Meta； as with Norman she parted from the rest； thought her own dear
Abbotstoke church； and Mr Charles Wilmot； great subjects for content
and thanksgiving； though it was a wonderful treat to see and hear
such as she had enjoyed to…day； and she thought it was a joy； to
carry away abidingly； to know that praise and worship； as near
perfection as this earth could render them； were being offered up。
Norman understood her thought； but responded by more of a sigh than
was quite comfortable。
Meta went on with her own thoughts； on the connection between worship
and good works； how the one leads to the other； and how praise with
pure lips is； after all； the great purpose of existence。 Her last
thought she spoke aloud。
〃I suppose everything； our own happiness and all； are given to us to
turn into praise；〃 she said。
〃Yes〃 echoed Norman； but as if his thoughts were not quite with
hers； or rather in another part of the same subject； then recalling
himself； 〃Happy such as can do so。〃
〃If one only could〃 said Meta。
〃You candon't say otherwise；〃 exclaimed Norman； 〃I know； at least；
that you and my father can。〃
〃Dr。 May does so； more than any one I know；〃 said Meta。
〃Yes；〃 said Norman again； 〃it is his secret of joy。 To him； it is
never； I am half sick of shadows。〃
〃To him they are not shadows； but foretastes；〃 said Meta。 Silence
again； and when she spoke； she said； 〃I have always thought it must
be such a happiness to have power of any kind that can be used in
direct service； or actual doing good。〃
〃No；〃 said Norman。 〃Whatever becomes a profession； becomes an
unreality。〃
〃Surely not； in becoming a duty；〃 said Meta。
〃Not for all；〃 he answered； 〃but where the fabric erected by
ourselves； in the sight of the world； is but an outer case； a shell
of mere words； blown up for the occasion； strung together as mere
language； then； self…convicted； we shrink within the husk； and feel
our own worthlessness and hypocrisy。〃
〃As one feels in reproving the school children for behaving ill at
church？〃 said Meta。
〃You never felt anything approaching to it！〃 said Norman。 〃To know
oneself to be such a deception； that everything else seems a delusion
too！〃
〃I don't know whether that is metaphysical；〃 said Meta； 〃but I am
sure I don't understand it。 One must know oneself to be worse than
one knows any one else to be。〃
〃I could not wish you to understand；〃 said Norman； and yet he seemed
impelled to go on； for； after a hesitating silence； he added； 〃When
the wanderer in the desert fears that the spring is but a mirage； or
when all that is held dear is made hazy or distorted by some
enchanter； what do you think are the feelings； Meta？〃
〃It must be dreadful；〃 she said； rather bewildered； 〃but he may know
it is a delusion； if he can but wake。 Has he not always a spell； a
charm？〃
〃What is the spell？〃 eagerly said Norman； standing still。
〃Believe〃 said Meta； hardly knowing how she came to choose the
words。
〃I believe！〃 he repeated。 〃Whatwhen we go beyond the province of
reasonhuman； a thing of sense after all！ How often have I so
answered。 But Meta； when a man has been drawn； in self…sufficient
security； to look into a magic mirror； and cannot detach his eyes
from the confused； misty scenewhere all that had his allegiance
appears shattered； overthrown； like a broken image； or at least
unable to endure examination； then〃
〃Oh； Norman； is that the trial to any one here？ I thought old Oxford
was the great guardian nurse of truth！ I am sure she cannot deal in
magic mirrors or such frightful things。 Do you know you are talking
like a very horrible dream？〃
〃I believe I am in one；〃 said Norman。
〃To be sure you are。 Wake！〃 said Meta； looking up； smiling in his
face。 〃You have read yourself into a maze； that's allwhat Mary
calls； muzzling your head； you don't really think all this； and when
you get into the country； away from books； you will forget it。 One
look at our dear old purple Welsh hills will blow away all the
mists！〃
〃I ought not to have spoken in this manner；〃 said Norman sadly。
〃Forget it； Meta。〃
〃Forget it！ Of course I will。 It is all nonsense； and meant to be
forgotten；〃 said Meta； laughing。 〃You will own that it is by…and…
by。〃
He gave a deep sigh。
〃Don't think I am unfeeling；〃 she said； 〃but I know it is all a fog
up from books； books； booksI should like to drive it off with a
good fresh gust of wind！ Oh！ I wish those yellow lilies would grow
in our river！〃
Meta talked away gaily for the rest of the walk。 She was anything
but unfeeling； but she had a confidence in Norman that forbade her to
see anything here but one of his variations of spirits； which always
sank in the hour of triumph。 She put forth her brightness to enliven
him； and； in their subsequent tete…a…tetes； she avoided all that
could lead to a renewal of this conversation。 Ethel would not have
rested till it had been fought out。 Meta thought it so imaginary；
that it had better die for want of the aliment of words； certainly；
hers could not reach an intellect like his； and she would only soothe
and amuse him。 Dr。 May； mind…curer as well as body…curer； would soon
be here； to put the climax to the general joy and watch his own son。
He did arrive； quite prepared to enjoy； giving an excellent account
of both homes； Mr。 Rivers very well； and the Wilmots taking care of
him； and Margaret as comfortable as usual； Mary making a most
important and capable little housekeeper； Miss Bracy as good as
possible。 He talked as if they had all nourished the better for
Ethel's absence； but he had evidently missed her greatly； as he
showed； without knowing it； by his instant eagerness to have her to
himself。 Even Norman； prizeman as he was； was less wanted。 There
was proud affection； eager congratulation； for him； but it was Ethel
to