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in many respects； for some years。 It is our natural progress； I have
heard。'
'Well； well！ But it's not natural to bear malice； I hope？' said Mr
Meagles； cheerily。
'If I had been shut up in any place to pine and suffer； I should always
hate that place and wish to burn it down； or raze it to the ground。 I
know no more。' 'Strong； sir？' said Mr Meagles to the Frenchman； it being
another of his habits to address individuals of all nations in idiomatic
English； with a perfect conviction that they were bound to understand
it somehow。 'Rather forcible in our fair friend； you'll agree with me； I
think？'
The French gentleman courteously replied； 'Plait…il？' To which Mr
Meagles returned with much satisfaction； 'You are right。 My opinion。'
The breakfast beginning by…and…by to languish； Mr Meagles made the
pany a speech。 It was short enough and sensible enough； considering
that it was a speech at all； and hearty。 It merely went to the effect
that as they had all been thrown together by chance； and had all
preserved a good understanding together； and were now about to disperse；
and were not likely ever to find themselves all together again； what
could they do better than bid farewell to one another； and give one
another good…speed in a simultaneous glass of cool champagne all round
the table？ It was done； and with a general shaking of hands the assembly
broke up for ever。
The solitary young lady all this time had said no more。 She rose with
the rest； and silently withdrew to a remote corner of the great room；
where she sat herself on a couch in a window； seeming to watch the
reflection of the water as it made a silver quivering on the bars of the
lattice。 She sat； turned away from the whole length of the apartment； as
if she were lonely of her own haughty choice。 And yet it would have been
as difficult as ever to say； positively； whether she avoided the rest；
or was avoided。
The shadow in which she sat； falling like a gloomy veil across her
forehead； accorded very well with the character of her beauty。 One could
hardly see the face； so still and scornful； set off by the arched
dark eyebrows； and the folds of dark hair； without wondering what its
expression would be if a change came over it。 That it could soften or
relent； appeared next to impossible。 That it could deepen into anger or
any extreme of defiance； and that it must change in that direction when
it changed at all； would have been its peculiar impression upon most
observers。 It was dressed and trimmed into no ceremony of expression。
Although not an open face； there was no pretence in it。 'I am
self…contained and self…reliant； your opinion is nothing to me； I have
no interest in you； care nothing for you； and see and hear you with
indifference'……this it said plainly。 It said so in the proud eyes； in
the lifted nostril； in the handsome but pressed and even cruel mouth。
Cover either two of those channels of expression； and the third would
have said so still。 Mask them all； and the mere turn of the head would
have shown an unsubduable nature。
Pet had moved up to her （she had been the subject of remark among her
family and Mr Clennam； who were now the only other occupants of the
room）； and was standing at her side。
'Are you'……she turned her eyes； and Pet faltered……'expecting any one to
meet you here； Miss Wade？'
'I？ No。'
'Father is sending to the Poste Restante。 Shall he have the pleasure of
directing the messenger to ask if there are any letters for you？'
'I thank him； but I know there can be none。'
'We are afraid；' said Pet； sitting down beside her； shyly and half
tenderly； 'that you will feel quite deserted when we are all gone。'
'Indeed！'
'Not；' said Pet； apologetically and embarrassed by her eyes； 'not； of
course； that we are any pany to you； or that we have been able to be
so； or that we thought you wished it。'
'I have not intended to make it understood that I did wish it。'
'No。 Of course。 But……in short；' said Pet； timidly touching her hand as
it lay impassive on the sofa between them； 'will you not allow Father to
tender you any slight assistance or service？ He will be very glad。'
'Very glad；' said Mr Meagles； ing forward with his wife and Clennam。
'Anything short of speaking the language； I shall be delighted to
undertake； I am sure。'
'I am obliged to you；' she returned； 'but my arrangements are made； and
I prefer to go my own way in my own manner。'
'Do you？' said Mr Meagles to himself； as he surveyed her with a puzzled
look。 'Well！ There's character in that； too。'
'I am not much used to the society of young ladies； and I am afraid I
may not show my appreciation of it as others might。 A pleasant journey
to you。 Good…bye！'
She would not have put out her hand； it seemed； but that Mr Meagles put
out his so straight before her that she could not pass it。 She put hers
in it； and it lay there just as it had lain upon the couch。
'Good…bye！' said Mr Meagles。 'This is the last good…bye upon the list；
for Mother and I have just said it to Mr Clennam here； and he only waits
to say it to Pet。 Good…bye！ We may never meet again。'
'In our course through life we shall meet the people who are ing to
meet us； from many strange places and by many strange roads；' was the
posed reply； 'and what it is set to us to do to them； and what it is
set to them to do to us； will all be done。' There was something in the
manner of these words that jarred upon Pet's ear。 It implied that what
was to be done was necessarily evil； and it caused her to say in a
whisper； 'O Father！' and to shrink childishly； in her spoilt way； a
little closer to him。 This was not lost on the speaker。
'Your pretty daughter；' she said； 'starts to think of such things。 Yet；'
looking full upon her； 'you may be sure that there are men and women
already on their road； who have their business to do with YOU； and who
will do it。 Of a certainty they will do it。 They may be ing hundreds；
thousands； of miles over the sea there； they may be close at hand now；
they may be ing； for anything you know or anything you can do to
prevent it； from the vilest sweepings of this very town。'
With the coldest of farewells； and with a certain worn expression on her
beauty that gave it； though scarcely yet in its prime； a wasted look；
she left the room。
Now； there were many stairs and passages that she had to traverse in
passing from that part of the spacious house to the chamber she had
secured for her own occupation。 When she had almost pleted the
journey； and was passing along the gallery in which her room was； she
heard an angry sound of muttering and sobbing。 A door stood open； and
within she saw the attendant upon the girl she had just left； the maid
with the curious name。
She stood still； to look at this maid。 A sullen； passionate girl！ Her
rich black hair was all about her face； her face was flushed and hot；
and as she sobbed and raged； she plucked at her lips with an unsparing
hand。
'Selfish brutes！' said the girl； sobbing and heaving between whiles。
'Not caring what bees of me！ Leaving me here hungry and thirsty and
tired； to starve； for anything they care！ Beasts！ Devils！ Wretches！'
'My poor girl； what is the matter？'
She looked up suddenly； with reddened eyes； and with her hands
suspended； in the act of pinching her neck； freshly disfigured with
great scarlet blots。 'It's nothing to you what's the matter。 It don't
signify to any one。'
'O yes it does； I am sorry to see you so。'
'You are not sorry；' said the girl。 'You are glad。 You know you are
glad。 I never was like this but twice over in the quarantine yonder； and
both times you found me。 I am afraid of you。'
'Afraid of me？'
'Yes。 You seem to e like my own anger； my own malice； my
own……whatever it is……I don't know what it is。 But I am ill…used； I am
ill…used； I am ill…used！' Here the sobs and the tears； and the tearing
hand； which had all been suspended together since the first surprise；
went on together anew。
The visitor stood looking at her with a strange attentive smile。 It was
wonderful to see the fury of the contest in the girl； and the bodily
struggle she made as if she were rent by the Demons of old。