Chapter 17 - Page 2

morning!'

The manner was easy, and the voice agreeable; but still Clennam
thought, that if he had not made that decided resolution to avoid
falling in love with Pet, he would have taken a dislike to this
Henry Gowan.

'It's new to you, I believe?' said this Gowan, when Arthur had
extolled the place.
'Quite new. I made acquaintance with it only yesterday afternoon.'

'Ah! Of course this is not its best aspect. It used to look
charming in the spring, before they went away last time. I should
like you to have seen it then.'

But for that resolution so often recalled, Clennam might have
wished him in the crater of Mount Etna, in return for this
civility.

'I have had the pleasure of seeing it under many circumstances
during the last three years, and it's--a Paradise.'

It was (at least it might have been, always excepting for that wise
resolution) like his dexterous impudence to call it a Paradise. He
only called it a Paradise because he first saw her coming, and so
made her out within her hearing to be an angel, Confusion to him!
And ah! how beaming she looked, and how glad! How she caressed
the dog, and how the dog knew her! How expressive that heightened
colour in her face, that fluttered manner, her downcast eyes, her
irresolute happiness! When had Clennam seen her look like this?
Not that there was any reason why he might, could, would, or should
have ever seen her look like this, or that he had ever hoped for
himself to see her look like this; but still--when had he ever
known her do it!

He stood at a little distance from them. This Gowan when he had
talked about a Paradise, had gone up to her and taken her hand.
The dog had put his great paws on her arm and laid his head against
her dear bosom. She had laughed and welcomed them, and made far
too much of the dog, far, far, too much--that is to say, supposing
there had been any third person looking on who loved her.

She disengaged herself now, and came to Clennam, and put her hand
in his and wished him good morning, and gracefully made as if she
would take his arm and be escorted into the house. To this Gowan
had no objection. No, he knew he was too safe.

There was a passing cloud on Mr Meagles's good-humoured face when
they all three (four, counting the dog, and he was the most
objectionable but one of the party) came in to breakfast. Neither
it, nor the touch of uneasiness on Mrs Meagles as she directed her
eyes towards it, was unobserved by Clennam.

'Well, Gowan,' said Mr Meagles, even suppressing a sigh; 'how goes
the world with you this morning?'

'Much as usual, sir. Lion and I being determined not to waste
anything of our weekly visit, turned out early, and came over from