relations between men and women. Could he only simply have expressed his
own feeling, he would have knelt beside her on the path, have taken the
trembling hands in his own, and comforted her as a woman would have done.
But as it was, he could only stand stiff and awkward before her, and yet
it seemed to him as if the whole world had resolved itself into his own
individuality and hers, and as if the gay river party and the bright
friendly relations of an hour before were separated from the present by
an impassable gulf. And, worst of all, there seemed to be a strange
perversity in his speech--a fate which drove him into betraying every
here and there his own real standpoint whether he would or no.

'You must not say such things,' he said, as calmly as he could. 'You have
charmed the English public as no one else has ever charmed it. Is not
that a great thing to have done? And if I, who am very fastidious and
very captious, and over-critical in a hundred ways--if I am inclined to
think that a part is rather more than you, with your short dramatic
experience, can compass quite successfully, why, what does it matter? I
may be quite wrong. Don't take any notice of my opinion: forget it, and
let me help you, if I can, by talking over the play.'

She shook her head with a bitter little smile. 'No, no; I shall never
forget it. Your attitude only brought home to me, almost more strongly
than I could bear, what I have suspected a long, long time--the
_contempt_ which people like you and Mr. Wallace feel for me!'

'Contempt!' cried Kendal, beside himself, and feeling as if all the
criticisms he had allowed himself to make of her were recoiling in one
avenging mass upon his head. 'I never felt anything but the warmest
admiration for your courage, your work, your womanly goodness and
sweetness.'