 to meeting Grandcourt, who was
little else to her than a large living sign of what she felt to be her failure
as a wife - the not having presented Sir Hugo with a son. Her constant
reflection was that her husband might fairly regret his choice, and if he had
not been very good might have treated her with some roughness in consequence,
gentlemen naturally disliking to be disappointed.
    Deronda, too, had a recognition from Grandcourt, for which he was not
grateful, though he took care to return it with perfect civility. No reasoning
as to the foundations of custom could do away with the early-rooted feeling that
his birth had been attended with injury for which his father was to blame; and
seeing that but for this injury Grandcourt's prospect might have been his, he
was proudly resolute not to behave in any way that might be interpreted into
irritation on that score. He saw a very easy descent into mean unreasoning
rancour and triumph in others' frustration; and being determined not to go down
that ugly pit, he turned his back on it, clinging to the kindlier affections
within him as a possession. Pride certainly helped him well - the pride of not
recognising a disadvantage for one's self which vulgar minds are disposed to
exaggerate, such as the shabby equipage of poverty: he would not have a man like
Grandcourt suppose himself envied by him. But there is no guarding against
interpretation. Grandcourt did believe that Deronda, poor devil, who he had no
doubt was his cousin by the father's side, inwardly winced under their mutual
position; wherefore the presence of that less lucky person was more agreeable to
him than it would otherwise have been. An imaginary envy, the idea that others
feel their comparative deficiency, is the ordinary cortège of egoism; and his
pet dogs were not the only beings that Grandcourt liked to feel his power over
in making them jealous. Hence he was civil enough to exchange several words with
Deronda on the terrace about the hunting round Diplow, and even said, »You had
better come over for a run or two when the season begins.«
    Lush, not displeased with delay, amused himself very well, partly in
gossiping with Sir Hugo and in answering his questions about Grandcourt's
affairs so far as they might affect his willingness to part with his interest in
Diplow. Also about Grandcourt's personal entanglements, the baronet knew enough
already for Lush to feel released from silence on a sunny autumn day, when there
was nothing more agreeable to do in lounging promenades than to speak freely of
a tyrannous patron behind his back
