an impulse； suddenly coming upon him in the baggage…room where he had
gone to get something out of his trunk； and where he had decided to have
the label of his baggage changed from the original destination at
Boulogne to the final port of the steamer's arrival。 When this was once
done he was sorry； but he was ashamed to have the label changed back。
The most assignable motive for his act was his reluctance to go on to
Paris with the Rasmiths； or rather with Mrs。 Rasmith； for with her
daughter； who was not a bad fellow； one could always manage。 He was
quite aware of being safely in his own hands against any design of Mrs。
Rasmith's； but her machinations humiliated him for her； he hated to see
her going through her manoeuvres； and he could not help grieving for her
failures； with a sort of impersonal sympathy； all the more because he
disliked her as little as he respected her。
The motive which he did not assign to himself was that which probably
prevailed with him； though in the last analysis it was as selfish； no
doubt； as the one he acknowledged。 Ellen Kenton still piqued his
curiosity； still touched his compassion。 He had so far from exhausted
his wish or his power to befriend her； to help her； that he had still a
wholly unsatisfied longing to console her； especially when she drooped
into that listless attitude she was apt to take； with her face fallen and
her hands let lie； the back of one in the palm of the other； in her lap。
It was possibly the vision of this following him to the baggage…room；
when he went to open his trunk； that as much as anything decided him to
have the label changed on his baggage； but he did not own it then； and
still less did he own it now； when he found himself quite on his own
hands for his pains。
He felt that for some reason the Kentons were all avoiding him。 Ellen；
indeed； did not take part； against him； unless negatively； for she had
appeared neither at lunch nor at dinner as the vessel kept on its way
after leaving Boulogne； and when he ventured to ask for her Mrs。 Kenton
answered with embarrassment that she was not feeling very well。 He asked
for her at lunch； but not at dinner； and when he had finished that meal
he went on the promenade…deck； and walked forlornly up and down； feeling
that he had been a fool。
Mrs。 Kenton went below to her daughter's room； and found Ellen there on
the sofa； with her book shut on her thumb at the place where the twilight
had failed her。
〃Ellen； dear；〃 her mother said； 〃aren't you feeling well？〃
〃Yes； I'm well enough；〃 said the girl； sensible of a leading in the
question。 〃Why？〃
〃Oh； nothing。 Onlyonly I can't make your father behave naturally with
Mr。 Breckon。 He's got his mind so full of that mistake we both came so
near making that he can't think of anything else。 He's so sheepish about
it that he can hardly speak to him or even look at him； and I must
confess that I don't do much better。 You know I don't like to put myself
forward where your father is； and if I did； really I don't believe I
could make up my mouth to say anything。 I did want Lottie to be nice to
him； but Lottie dislikes him so！ And even Boynewell； it wouldn't
matter about Boyne； if he didn't seem to be carrying out a sort of family
planBoyne barely answers him when he speaks to him。 I don't know what
he can think。〃 Ellen was a good listener； and Mrs。 Kenton； having
begun； did not stop till she had emptied the bag。 〃I just know that he
didn't get off at Boulogne because he wanted to stay on with us； and
thought he could be useful to us at The Hague； and everywhere； and here
we're acting as ungratefully！ Why； we're not even commonly polite to
him； and I know he feels it。 I know that he's hurt。〃
Ellen rose and stood before the glass； into which he asked of her
mother's reflected face； while she knotted a fallen coil of hair into its
place； 〃Where is he？〃
〃I don't know。 He went on deck somewhere。〃
Ellen put on her hat and pinned it； and put on her jacket and buttoned
it。 Then she started towards the door。 Her mother made way for her；
faltering； 〃What are you going to do； Ellen？〃
〃I am going to do right。〃
〃Don't…catch cold！〃 her mother called after her figure vanishing down
the corridor； but the warning couched in these terms had really no
reference to the weather。
The girl's impulse was one of those effects of the weak will in her which
were apt to leave her short of the fulfilment of a purpose。 It carried
her as her as the promenade； which she found empty； and she went and
leaned upon the rail； and looked out over the sorrowful North Sea； which
was washing darkly away towards where the gloomy sunset had been。
Steps from the other side of the ship approached； hesitated towards her；
and then arrested themselves。 She looked round。
〃Why； Miss Kenton！〃 said Breckon； stupidly。
〃The sunset is over； isn't it？〃 she answered。
〃The twilight isn't。〃 Breckon stopped； then he asked； 〃Wouldn't you like
to take a little walk？〃
〃Yes；〃 she answered； and smiled fully upon him。 He had never known
before how radiant a smile she lead。
〃Better have my arm。 It's getting rather dark。〃
〃Well。〃 She put her hand on his arm and he felt it tremble there； while
she palpitated； 〃We are all so glad you could go on to Rotterdam。 My
mother wanted me to tell you。〃
〃Oh； don't speak of that；〃 said Breckon； not very appositely。 Presently
he forced a laugh； in order to add； with lightness； 〃I was afraid perhaps
I had given you all some reason to regret it！〃
She said； 〃I was afraid you would think thator momma wasand I
couldn't bear to have you。〃
〃Well； then； I won't。〃
XIX。
Breckon had answered with gayety； but his happiness was something beyond
gayety。 He had really felt the exclusion from the Kentons in which he
had passed the day； and he had felt it the more painfully because he
liked them all。 It may be owned that he liked Ellen best from the
beginning； and now he liked her better than ever； but even in the day's
exile he had not ceased to like each of them。 They were； in their family
affection； as lovable as that sort of selfishness can make people。 They
were very united and good to one another。 Lottie herself； except in her
most lurid moments； was good to her brother and sister； and almost
invariably kind to her parents。 She would not； Breckon saw； have brooked
much meddling with her flirtations from them； but as they did not offer
to meddle； she had no occasion to grumble on that score。 She grumbled
when they asked her to do things for Ellen； but she did them； and though
she never did them without grumbling； she sometimes did them without
being asked。 She was really very watchful of Ellen when it would least
have been expected； and sometimes she was sweet。 She never was sweet
with Boyne； but she was often his friend； though this did not keep her
from turning upon him at the first chance to give him a little dig； or a
large one； for that matter。 As for Boyne； he was a mass of helpless
sweetness； though he did not know it； and sometimes took himself for an
iceberg when he was merely an ice…cream of heroic mould。 He was as
helplessly sweet with Lottie as with any one； and if he suffered keenly
from her treacheries； and seized every occasion to repay them in kind；
it was clearly a matter of conscience with him； and always for the good。
Their father and mother treated their squabbles very wisely； Breckon
thought。 They ignored them as much as possible； and they recognized them
without attempting to do that justice between them which would have
rankled in both their breasts。
To a spectator who had been critical at first； Mr。 and Mrs。 Kenton seemed
an exemplary father and mother with Ellen as well as with their other
children。 It is easy to be exemplary with a sick girl； but they
increasingly affected Breckon as exemplary with Ellen。 He fancied that
they acted upon each other beneficially towards her。 At first he had
foreboded some tiresome boasting from the father's tenderness； and some
weak indulgence of the daughter's whims from her mother； but there was
either never any ground for this； or else Mrs。 Kenton； in keeping her
husband from boasting； had been obliged in mere consistency to set a
guard upon her own fondness。
It was not that。 Ellen； he was more and more decided； would have abused
the weakness of either； if there was anything more angelic than her
patience； it was her wish to be a comfort to them； and； between the
caprices of her invalidism； to be a service。 It was pathetic to see her
remembering to do things for them which Boyne and Lottie had forgotten；
or plainly shirked doing； and to keep the fact out of sight。 She really
kept it out of sight with them； and if she did not hide it from so close
an observer as Breckon； that was more his fault than hers。 When her
father first launched out in her praise； or the praise of her reading；
the young man had dreaded a rustic prig； yet she had never been a prig；
but simply glad of what book she had known； and meekly submissive to his
knowledge if not his taste。 He owned that she had a right to her taste；
which he found almost always good； and accounted for as instinctive in
the absence of an imaginable culture in her imaginable ambient。 So far
as he had glimpses of this； he found it so different from anything he had
known that the modest adequacy of Mrs。 Kenton in the political
experiences of modern Europe； as well as the clear judgments of Kenton
himself in matters sometimes beyond Breekon himself； mystified him no
less than Ellen's taste。
Even with the growth of his respect for their intelligence and his love
of their kindliness； he had not been able to keep a certain patronage
from mingling； and it was not till they evinced not only entire ability；
but an apparent wish to get on without his approval； without his
acquaintance even； that he had conceived a just sense of them。 The like
is apt to happen with the best of us； when we are also the finest； and
Breckon was not singular in coming to a due consciousness of something
valuable only in the hour of its loss。 He did not know that the loss was
only apparent。 He knew that he ha