Thus she laboured, with a generosity more worthy even than its object, to
sink her love for her own decorum in devotion to the world in general,
and to Swithin in particular. To counsel her activities by her
understanding, rather than by her emotions as usual, was hard work for a
tender woman; but she strove hard, and made advance. The self-centred
attitude natural to one in her situation was becoming displaced by the
sympathetic attitude, which, though it had to be artificially fostered at
first, gave her, by degrees, a certain sweet sense that she was rising
above self-love. That maternal element which had from time to time
evinced itself in her affection for the youth, and was imparted by her
superior ripeness in experience and years, appeared now again, as she
drew nearer the resolve not to secure propriety in her own social
condition at the expense of this youth's earthly utility.
Unexpectedly grand fruits are sometimes forced forth by harsh pruning.
The illiberal letter of Swithin's uncle was suggesting to Lady
Constantine an altruism whose thoroughness would probably have amazed
that queer old gentleman into a withdrawal of the conditions that had
induced it. To love St. Cleeve so far better than herself as this was to
surpass the love of women as conventionally understood, and as mostly
existing.
Before, however, clinching her decision by any definite step she worried
her little brain by devising every kind of ingenious scheme, in the hope
of lighting on one that might show her how that decision could be avoided
with the same good result. But to secure for him the advantages offered,
and to retain him likewise; reflection only showed it to be impossible.
Yet to let him go _for ever_ was more than she could endure, and at
length she jumped at an idea which promised some sort of improvement on
that design. She would propose that reunion should not be entirely
abandoned, but simply postponed--namely, till after his twenty-fifth
birthday--when he might be her husband without, at any rate, the loss to
him of the income. By this time he would approximate to a man's full
judgment, and that painful aspect of her as one who had deluded his raw
immaturity would have passed for ever.
The plan somewhat appeased her disquieted honour. To let a marriage sink
into abeyance for four or five years was not to nullify it; and though
she would leave it to him to move its substantiation at the end of that
time, without present stipulations, she had not much doubt upon the
issue.
The clock struck five. This silent mental debate had occupied her whole
afternoon. Perhaps it would not have ended now but for an unexpected
incident--the entry of her brother Louis. He came into the room where
she was sitting, or rather writhing, and after a few words to explain how
he had got there and about the mistake in the date of Sir Blount's death,
he walked up close to her. His next remarks were apologetic in form, but
in essence they were bitterness itself.