father her former letter, but she didn't show him this one; she only
told him what it contained, submitting to him also that of her
correspondent. Captain Jay moreover wrote to Mr. Tramore, who
replied sociably, but so vaguely that he almost neglected the subject
under discussion--a communication that made poor Bertram ponder long.
He could never get to the bottom of the superficial, and all the
proprieties and conventions of life were profound to him.
Fortunately for him old Mrs. Tramore liked him, he was satisfactory
to her long-sightedness; so that a relation was established under
cover of which he still occasionally presented himself in Hill
Street--presented himself nominally to the mistress of the house. He
had had scruples about the veracity of his visits, but he had
disposed of them; he had scruples about so many things that he had
had to invent a general way, to dig a central drain. Julia Tramore
happened to meet him when she came up to town, and she took a view of
him more benevolent than her usual estimate of people encouraged by
her mother. The fear of agreeing with that lady was a motive, but
there was a stronger one, in this particular case, in the fear of
agreeing with her niece, who had rejected him. His situation might
be held to have improved when Mr. Tramore was taken so gravely ill
that with regard to his recovery those about him left their eyes to
speak for their lips; and in the light of the poor gentleman's recent
death it was doubtless better than it had ever been.

He was only a quarter of an hour with the girl, but this gave him
time to take the measure of it. After he had spoken to her about her
bereavement, very much as an especially mild missionary might have
spoken to a beautiful Polynesian, he let her know that he had learned
from her companions the very strong step she was about to take. This
led to their spending together ten minutes which, to her mind, threw