this quarter, a tribunal of justice which, while upholding the
salubriousness of punition, yet strives to keep as large and generous
as it can.

Therefore it followed as the night the day that Mr. Vivian, who could
work himself up to the condition of feeling sorry for her as she
discharged her painful duties (while admiring her loveliness), was a
sort of camp-meeting madman. He was an advanced kind of religious
fanatic, nearly in the foaming stages, something like a whirling
dervish. His emotional gibberings were beneath the notice of sane,
wholesome people.

Still, in lengthening retrospect, Carlisle had become quite dissatisfied
with the manner in which she had permitted the summer-house interview to
terminate. It was somewhat galling to recall the tameness with which she
had allowed a Shouting Methodist such a last word as that, entirely
unreproved. Because unreproved, the staggering word had stuck fast; in
spite of all efforts, it remained as a considerable irritation in the
background of her mind. Many times she had resolved that, if she ever
saw the man again (which seemed unlikely, as nobody appeared ever to
have heard of him), she would make a point of saying something pretty
sharp and definite to him, showing him how little she cared for the
opinions of such as he. And then, at other times, she decided that it
might be best simply to ignore the man altogether, turning her back with
dignity, after perhaps one look such as would completely show him up.
Let sleeping dogs lie, as they say....

She rose, in excellent spirits, shortly after noon, and began an
unhurried toilet. The toilet was so unhurried, indeed, that she had
hardly finished and descended to the family sitting-room on the second