him to
estrangement. He found me in the kitchen, watching the progress of certain cakes
for tea, then baking. Approaching the hearth, he asked, »If I was at last
satisfied with house-maid's work?« I answered by inviting him to accompany me on
a general inspection of the result of my labours. With some difficulty, I got
him to make the tour of the house. He just looked in at the doors I opened; and
when he had wandered up stairs and down stairs, he said I must have gone through
a great deal of fatigue and trouble to have effected such considerable changes
in so short a time: but not a syllable did he utter indicating pleasure in the
improved aspect of his abode.
    This silence damped me. I thought perhaps the alterations had disturbed some
old associations he valued. I inquired whether this was the case: no doubt in a
somewhat crest-fallen tone.
    »Not at all; he had, on the contrary, remarked that I had scrupulously
respected every association: he feared, indeed, I must have bestowed more
thought on the matter than it was worth. How many minutes, for instance, had I
devoted to studying the arrangement of this very room? - By-the-bye, could I
tell him where such a book was?«
    I showed him the volume on the shelf: he took it down and withdrawing to his
accustomed window recess, he began to read it.
    Now, I did not like this, reader. St John was a good man; but I began to
feel he had spoken truth of himself, when he said he was hard and cold. The
humanities and amenities of life had no attraction for him - its peaceful
enjoyments no charm. Literally, he lived only to aspire - after what was good
and great, certainly: but still he would never rest; nor approve of others
resting round him. As I looked at his lofty forehead, still and pale as a white
stone - at his fine lineaments fixed in study - I comprehended all at once that
he would hardly make a good husband: that it would be a trying thing to be his
wife. I understood, as by inspiration, the nature of his love for Miss Oliver; I
agreed with him that it was but a love of the senses. I comprehended how he
should despise himself for the feverish influence it exercised over him; how he
should wish to stifle and destroy it; how he should mistrust its ever conducing
permanently to his happiness, or hers. I saw he was of the material