slighted cheek the touch of his lips.

He was going to his room, and after a moment she heard his door
close. Then she said to the servant "Shut up the house"--she tried
to do everything her mother had done, to be a little of what she had
been, conscious only of falling woefully short--and took her own way
upstairs. After she had reached her room she waited, listening,
shaken by the apprehension that she should hear her father come out
again and go up to Godfrey. He would go up to tell him, to have it
over without delay, precisely because it would be so difficult. She
asked herself indeed why he should tell Godfrey when he hadn't taken
the occasion--their drive home being an occasion--to tell herself.
However, she wanted no announcing, no telling; there was such a
horrible clearness in her mind that what she now waited for was only
to be sure her father wouldn't proceed as she had imagined. At the
end of the minutes she saw this particular danger was over, upon
which she came out and made her own way to her brother. Exactly what
she wanted to say to him first, if their parent counted on the boy's
greater indulgence, and before he could say anything, was: "Don't
forgive him; don't, don't!"

He was to go up for an examination, poor lad, and during these weeks
his lamp burned till the small hours. It was for the Foreign Office,
and there was to be some frightful number of competitors; but Adela
had great hopes of him--she believed so in his talents and saw with
pity how hard he worked. This would have made her spare him, not
trouble his night, his scanty rest, if anything less dreadful had
been at stake. It was a blessing however that one could count on his
coolness, young as he was--his bright good-looking discretion, the
thing that already made him half a man of the world. Moreover he was