interpreted the warning and was silent, but, after she had left the
room with her mother in order that the lovers might be alone, she
went upstairs and wept many tears. Ah! it is a sad experience when
the nearest and dearest suspects that we are aware of secret
disapproval, knows that it is justifiable, throws up a rampart and
becomes defensively belligerent. From that moment all confidence is
at an end. Without a word, perhaps, the love and friendship of years
disappear, and in the place of two human beings transparent to each
other, there are two who are opaque and indifferent. Bitter, bitter!
If the cause of separation were definite disagreement upon conduct or
belief, we could pluck up courage, approach and come to an
understanding, but it is impossible to bring to speech anything which
is so close to the heart, and there is, therefore, nothing left for
us but to submit and be dumb.



CHAPTER IX



It was now far into June, and Madge and Frank extended their walks
and returned later. He had come down to spend his last Sunday with
the Hopgoods before starting with his father for Germany, and on the
Monday they were to leave London.

Wordsworth was one of the divinities at Stoke Newington, and just
before Frank visited Fenmarket that week, he had heard the
Intimations of Immortality read with great fervour. Thinking that
Madge would be pleased with him if she found that he knew something