But Gwendolen had lingered behind to look at the kenneled blood-hounds, perhaps because she felt a little dispirited; and Grandcourt waited for her.
"You had better take my arm," he said, in his low tone of command; and she took it.
"It's a great bore being dragged about in this way, and no cigar," said Grandcourt.
"I thought you would like it."
"Like it!--one eternal chatter. And encouraging those ugly girls--inviting one to meet such monsters. How that fat Deronda can bear looking at her----"
"Why do you call him fat? Do you object to him so much?"
"Object? no. What do I care about his being a fat? It's of no consequence to me. I'll invite him to Diplow again if you like."
"I don't think he would come. He is too clever and learned to care about us," said Gwendolen, thinking it useful for her husband to be told (privately) that it was possible for him to be looked down upon.
"I never saw that make much difference in a man. Either he is a gentleman, or he is not," said Grandcourt.
That a new husband and wife should snatch, a moment's tete-à-tete was what could be understood and indulged; and the rest of the party left them in the rear till, re-entering the garden, they all paused in that cloistered court where, among the falling rose-petals thirteen years before, we saw a boy becoming acquainted with his first sorrow. This cloister was built of a harder stone than the church, and had been in greater safety from the wearing weather. It was a rare example of a northern cloister with arched and pillard openings not intended for glazing, and the delicately-wrought foliage of the capitals seemed still to carry the very touches of the chisel. Gwendolen had dropped her husband's arm and joined the other ladies, to whom Deronda was noticing the delicate sense which had combined freedom with accuracy in the imitation of natural forms.
"I wonder whether one oftener learns to love real objects through their representations, or the representations through the real objects," he said, after pointing out a lovely capital made by the curled leaves of greens, showing their reticulated under-side with the firm gradual swell of its central rib. "When I was a little fellow these capitals taught me to observe and delight in the structure of leaves."
"I suppose you can see every line of them with your eyes shut," said Juliet Fenn.
"Yes. I was always repeating them, because for a good many years this court stood for me as my only image of a convent, and whenever I read of monks and monasteries, this was my scenery for them."