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Despite the sad occurrences of the preceding autumn； an unwonted
cheerfulness pervaded her spirit throughout the day。 Change of
sceneand that to untravelled eyesconjoined with the sensation of
freedom from supervision； revived the sparkle of a warm young nature
ready enough to take advantage of any adventitious restoratives。
Point…blank grief tends rather to seal up happiness for a time than
to produce that attrition which results from griefs of anticipation
that move onward with the days： these may be said to furrow away
the capacity for pleasure。
Her expectations from the advertisement began to be extravagant。 A
thriving family； who had always sadly needed her； was already
definitely pictured in her fancy； which； in its exuberance； led her
on to picturing its individual members； their possible
peculiarities； virtues； and vices； and obliterated for a time the
recollection that she would be separated from her brother。
Thus musing； as she waited for his return in the evening； her eyes
fell on her left hand。 The contemplation of her own left fourth
finger by symbol…loving girlhood of this age is； it seems； very
frequently； if not always； followed by a peculiar train of romantic
ideas。 Cytherea's thoughts； still playing about her future； became
directed into this romantic groove。 She leant back in her chair；
and taking hold of the fourth finger； which had attracted her
attention； she lifted it with the tips of the others； and looked at
the smooth and tapering member for a long time。
She whispered idly； 'I wonder who and what he will be？
'If he's a gentleman of fashion； he will take my finger so； just
with the tips of his own； and with some fluttering of the heart； and
the least trembling of his lip； slip the ring so lightly on that I
shall hardly know it is therelooking delightfully into my eyes all
the time。
'If he's a bold； dashing soldier； I expect he will proudly turn
round； take the ring as if it equalled her Majesty's crown in value；
and desperately set it on my finger thus。 He will fix his eyes
unflinchingly upon what he is doingjust as if he stood in battle
before the enemy （though； in reality； very fond of me； of course）；
and blush as much as I shall。
'If he's a sailor； he will take my finger and the ring in this way；
and deck it out with a housewifely touch and a tenderness of
expression about his mouth； as sailors do： kiss it； perhaps； with a
simple air； as if we were children playing an idle game； and not at
the very height of observation and envy by a great crowd saying；
〃Ah！ they are happy now！〃
'If he should be rather a poor mannoble…minded and affectionate；
but still poor'
Owen's footsteps rapidly ascending the stairs； interrupted this
fancy…free meditation。 Reproaching herself； even angry with herself
for allowing her mind to stray upon such subjects in the face of
their present desperate condition； she rose to meet him； and make
tea。
Cytherea's interest to know how her brother had been received at Mr。
Gradfield's broke forth into words at once。 Almost before they had
sat down to table； she began cross…examining him in the regular
sisterly way。
'Well； Owen； how has it been with you to…day？ What is the place
likedo you think you will like Mr Gradfield？'
'O yes。 But he has not been there to…day； I have only had the head
draughtsman with me。'
Young women have a habit； not noticeable in men； of putting on at a
moment's notice the drama of whosoever's life they choose。
Cytherea's interest was transferred from Mr。 Gradfield to his
representative。
'What sort of a man is he？'
'He seems a very nice fellow indeed； though of course I can hardly
tell to a certainty as yet。 But I think he's a very worthy fellow；
there's no nonsense in him； and though he is not a public school man
he has read widely； and has a sharp appreciation of what's good in
books and art。 In fact； his knowledge isn't nearly so exclusive as
most professional men's。'
'That's a great deal to say of an architect； for of all professional
men they are； as a rule； the most professional。'
'Yes； perhaps they are。 This man is rather of a melancholy turn of
mind； I think。'
'Has the managing clerk any family？' she mildly asked； after a
while； pouring out some more tea。
'Family； no！'
'Well； dear Owen； how should I know？'
'Why； of course he isn't married。 But there happened to be a
conversation about women going on in the office； and I heard him say
what he should wish his wife to be like。'
'What would he wish his wife to be like？' she said； with great
apparent lack of interest。
'O； he says she must be girlish and artless： yet he would be loth
to do without a dash of womanly subtlety； 'tis so piquant。 Yes； he
said； that must be in her； she must have womanly cleverness。 〃And
yet I should like her to blush if only a cock…sparrow were to look
at her hard；〃 he said； 〃which brings me back to the girl again： and
so I flit backwards and forwards。 I must have what comes； I
suppose；〃 he said； 〃and whatever she may be； thank God she's no
worse。 However； if he might give a final hint to Providence；〃 he
said； 〃a child among pleasures； and a woman among pains was the
rough outline of his requirement。〃'
'Did he say that？ What a musing creature he must be。'
'He did； indeed。'
3。 FROM THE TWELFTH TO THE FIFTEENTH OF JULY
As is well known； ideas are so elastic in a human brain； that they
have no constant measure which may be called their actual bulk。 Any
important idea may be compressed to a molecule by an unwonted
crowding of others； and any small idea will expand to whatever
length and breadth of vacuum the mind may be able to make over to
it。 Cytherea's world was tolerably vacant at this time； and the
young architectural designer's image became very pervasive。 The
next evening this subject was again renewed。
'His name is Springrove；' said Owen； in reply to her。 'He is a
thorough artist； but a man of rather humble origin； it seems； who
has made himself so far。 I think he is the son of a farmer； or
something of the kind。'
'Well； he's none the worse for that； I suppose。'
'None the worse。 As we come down the hill； we shall be continually
meeting people going up。' But Owen had felt that Springrove was a
little the worse nevertheless。
'Of course he's rather old by this time。'
'O no。 He's about six…and…twentynot more。'
'Ah； I see。 。 。 。 What is he like； Owen？'
'I can't exactly tell you his appearance： 'tis always such a
difficult thing to do。'
'A man you would describe as short？ Most men are those we should
describe as short； I fancy。'
'I should call him； I think； of the middle height； but as I only see
him sitting in the office； of course I am not certain about his form
and figure。'
'I wish you were； then。'
'Perhaps you do。 But I am not； you see。'
'Of course not； you are always so provoking。 Owen； I saw a man in
the street to…day whom I fancied was heand yet； I don't see how it
could be； either。 He had light brown hair； a snub nose； very round
face； and a peculiar habit of reducing his eyes to straight lines
when he looked narrowly at anything。'
'O no。 That was not he； Cytherea。'
'Not a bit like him in all probability。'
'Not a bit。 He has dark hairalmost a Grecian nose； regular teeth；
and an intellectual face； as nearly as I can recall to mind。'
'Ah； there now； Owen； you HAVE described him！ But I suppose he's
not generally called pleasing； or'
'Handsome？'
'I scarcely meant that。 But since you have said it； is he
handsome？'
'Rather。'
'His tout ensemble is striking？'
'YesO no； noI forgot： it is not。 He is rather untidy in his
waistcoat； and neck…ties； and hair。'
'How vexing！。 。 。 it must be to himself； poor thing。'
'He's a thorough bookwormdespises the pap…and…daisy school of
verseknows Shakespeare to the very dregs of the foot…notes。
Indeed； he's a poet himself in a small way。'
'How delicious！' she said。 'I have never known a poet。'
'And you don't know him；' said Owen dryly。
She reddened。 'Of course I don't。 I know that。'
'Have you received any answer to your advertisement？' he inquired。
'Ahno！' she said； and the forgotten disappointment which had
showed itself in her face at different times during the day； became
visible again。
Another day passed away。 On Thursday； without inquiry； she learnt
more of the head draughtsman。 He and Graye had become very
friendly； and he had been tempted to show her brother a copy of some
poems of hissome serious and sadsome humorouswhich had
appeared in the poets' corner of a magazine from time to time。 Owen
showed them now to Cytherea； who instantly began to read them
carefully and to think them very beautiful。
'YesSpringrove's no fool；' said Owen sententiously。
'No fool！I should think he isn't； indeed；' said Cytherea； looking
up from the paper in quite an excitement： 'to write such verses as
these！'
'What logic are you chopping； Cytherea？ Well； I don't mean on
account of the verses； because I haven't read them； but for what he
said when the fellows were talking about falling in love。'
'Which you will tell me？'
'He says that your true