Chapter XXXVIII

           

           Ididnotseehimagainfornearlyaweek.Thenhefetchedmesoonaftersevenoneeveningandtookmeouttodinner.Hewasdressedinthedeepestmourning,andonhisbowlerwasabroadblackband.Hehadevenablackbordertohishandkerchief.Hisgarbofwoesuggestedthathehadlostinonecatastropheeveryrelationhehadintheworld,eventocousinsbymarriagetwiceremoved.Hisplumpnessandhisred,fatcheeksmadehismourningnotalittleincongruous.Itwascruelthathisextremeunhappinessshouldhaveinitsomethingofbuffoonery.

           Hetoldmehehadmadeuphismindtogoaway,thoughnottoItaly,asIhadsuggested,buttoHolland.

           "I’mstartingto-morrow.Thisisperhapsthelasttimeweshallevermeet."

           Imadeanappropriaterejoinder,andhesmiledwanly.

           "Ihaven’tbeenhomeforfiveyears.IthinkI’dforgottenitall;Iseemedtohavecomesofarawayfrommyfather’shousethatIwasshyattheideaofrevisitingit;butnowIfeelit’smyonlyrefuge."

           Hewassoreandbruised,andhisthoughtswentbacktothetendernessofhismother’slove.Theridiculehehadenduredforyearsseemednowtoweighhimdown,andthefinalblowofBlanche’streacheryhadrobbedhimoftheresiliencywhichhadmadehimtakeitsogaily.Hecouldnolongerlaughwiththosewholaughedathim.Hewasanoutcast.Hetoldmeofhischildhoodinthetidybrickhouse,andofhismother’spassionateorderliness.Herkitchenwasamiracleofcleanbrightness.Everythingwasalwaysinitsplace,andnowherecouldyouseeaspeckofdust.Cleanliness,indeed,wasamaniawithher.

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