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unconsciously looking round the room for a moment as she did so； as
if to ensure that no stranger saw her in the act of using them。
Here a weakness was uncovered at once； it was a small； pretty； and
natural one； indeed； as weaknesses go in the great world； it might
almost have been called a commendable trait。 She then began to
read； without sitting down。
These 'Metres by E。' composed a collection of soft and marvellously
musical rhymes； of a nature known as the vers de societe。 The lines
presented a series of playful defences of the supposed strategy of
womankind in fascination； courtship； and marriagethe whole teeming
with ideas bright as mirrors and just as unsubstantial； yet forming
a brilliant argument to justify the ways of girls to men。 The
pervading characteristic of the mass was the means of forcing into
notice； by strangeness of contrast； the single mournful poem that
the book contained。 It was placed at the very end； and under the
title of 'Cancelled Words；' formed a whimsical and rather affecting
love…lament； somewhat in the tone of many of Sir Thomas Wyatt's
poems。 This was the piece which had arrested Christopher's
attention； and had been pointed out by him to his sister Faith。
'It is very touching；' she said； looking up。
'What do you think I suspect about itthat the poem is addressed to
me！ Do you remember； when father was alive and we were at Solentsea
that season； about a governess who came there with a Sir Ralph
Petherwin and his wife； people with a sickly little daughter and a
grown…up son？'
'I never saw any of them。 I think I remember your knowing something
about a young man of that name。'
'Yes； that was the family。 Well； the governess there was a very
attractive woman； and somehow or other I got more interested in her
than I ought to have done （this is necessary to the history）； and we
used to meet in romantic placesandand that kind of thing； you
know。 The end of it was； she jilted me and married the son。'
'You were anxious to get away from Solentsea。'
'Was I？ Then that was chiefly the reason。 Well； I decided to think
no more of her； and I was helped to do it by the troubles that came
upon us shortly afterwards； it is a blessed arrangement that one
does not feel a sentimental grief at all when additional grief comes
in the shape of practical misfortune。 However； on the first
afternoon of the little holiday I took for my walking tour last
summer； I came to Anglebury； and stayed about the neighbourhood for
a day or two to see what it was like； thinking we might settle there
if this place failed us。 The next evening I left； and walked across
the heath to Flychettthat's a village about five miles further on…
…so as to be that distance on my way for next morning； and while I
was crossing the heath there I met this very woman。 We talked a
little； because we couldn't help ityou may imagine the kind of
talk it wasand parted as coolly as we had met。 Now this strange
book comes to me； and I have a strong conviction that she is the
writer of it； for that poem sketches a similar sceneor rather
suggests it； and the tone generally seems the kind of thing she
would writenot that she was a sad woman； either。'
'She seems to be a warm…hearted； impulsive woman； to judge from
these tender verses。'
'People who print very warm words have sometimes very cold manners。
I wonder if it is really her writing； and if she has sent it to me！'
'Would it not be a singular thing for a married woman to do？ Though
of course'（she removed her spectacles as if they hindered her from
thinking； and hid them under the timepiece till she should go on
reading）'of course poets have morals and manners of their own； and
custom is no argument with them。 I am sure I would not have sent it
to a man for the world！'
'I do not see any absolute harm in her sending it。 Perhaps she
thinks that； since it is all over； we may as well die friends。'
'If I were her husband I should have doubts about the dying。 And
〃all over〃 may not be so plain to other people as it is to you。'
'Perhaps not。 And when a man checks all a woman's finer sentiments
towards him by marrying her； it is only natural that it should find
a vent somewhere。 However； she probably does not know of my
downfall since father's death。 I hardly think she would have cared
to do it had she known that。 （I am assuming that it is Ethelberta
Mrs。 Petherwinwho sends it： of course I am not sure。） We must
remember that when I knew her I was a gentleman at ease； who had not
the least notion that I should have to work for a living； and not
only so； but should have first to invent a profession to work at out
of my old tastes。'
'Kit； you have made two mistakes in your thoughts of that lady。
Even though I don't know her； I can show you that。 Now I'll tell
you！ the first is in thinking that a married lady would send the
book with that poem in it without at any rate a slight doubt as to
its propriety： the second is in supposing that； had she wished to
do it； she would have given the thing up because of our misfortunes。
With a true woman the second reason would have had no effect had she
once got over the first。 I'm a woman； and that's why I know。'
Christopher said nothing； and turned over the poems。
He lived by teaching music； and； in comparison with starving；
thrived； though the wealthy might possibly have said that in
comparison with thriving he starved。 During this night he hummed
airs in bed； thought he would do for the ballad of the fair poetess
what other musicians had done for the ballads of other fair
poetesses； and dreamed that she smiled on him as her prototype
Sappho smiled on Phaon。
The next morning before starting on his rounds a new circumstance
induced him to direct his steps to the bookseller's； and ask a
question。 He had found on examining the wrapper of the volume that
it was posted in his own town。
'No copy of the book has been sold by me；' the bookseller's voice
replied from far up the Alpine height of the shop…ladder； where he
stood dusting stale volumes； as was his habit of a morning before
customers came。 'I have never heard of itprobably never shall；'
and he shook out the duster； so as to hit the delicate mean between
stifling Christopher and not stifling him。
'Surely you don't live by your shop？' said Christopher； drawing
back。
The bookseller's eyes rested on the speaker's； his face changed； he
came down and placed his hand on the lapel of Christopher's coat。
'Sir；' he said； 'country bookselling is a miserable； impoverishing；
exasperating thing in these days。 Can you understand the rest？'
'I can； I forgive a starving man anything；' said Christopher。
'You go a long way very suddenly；' said the book seller。 'Half as
much pity would have seemed better。 However； wait a moment。' He
looked into a list of new books； and added： 'The work you allude to
was only published last week； though； mind you； if it had been
published last century I might not have sold a copy。'
Although his time was precious； Christopher had now become so
interested in the circumstance that the unseen sender was somebody
breathing his own