being dead, and having only left a daughter behind her, George
inherited all the unentailed portion of the property, with the curious
provision that he was never to leave it back to Philip or his
children; of the sudden departure of Miss Lee, and of many other
things, that were some of them true and some of them false, following
as they did upon the heels of the great dinner-party, and the
announcement made thereat, threw the country-side into a state of
indescribable ferment. When this settled down, it left a strong and
permanent residuum of public indignation and contempt directed against
Philip, the more cordially, perhaps, because he was no longer a rich
man. People very rarely express contempt or indignation against a rich
man who happens to be their neighbour in the country, whatever he may
have done. They keep their virtue for those who are impoverished, or
for their unfortunate relations. But for Philip it was felt that there
was no excuse and no forgiveness; he had lost both his character and
his money, and must therefore be cut, and from that day forward he was
cut accordingly.

As for Philip himself, he was fortunately, as yet, ignorant of the
kind intentions of his friends and neighbours, who had been so fond of
him a week ago. He had enough upon his shoulders without that--for he
had spoken no lie when he told Maria Lee that he was crushed by the
dreadful and repeated blows that had fallen upon him, blows that had
robbed him of everything that made life worth living, and given him in
return nothing but an infant who could not inherit, and who was
therefore only an incumbrance.

Who is it that says, "After all, let a bad man take what pains he may
to push it down, a human soul is an awful, ghostly, unique possession
for a bad man to have?" During the time that had elapsed between the