That honour will be reserved for poor Gabriella.

I wish you didn't have to go, but you really must, I suppose ?" "Yes, we must go.

Come, Gabriella, or you won't have time to get into your trunks before dinner." On the drive home Mrs.Fowler was grimly silent, while the sweetness about her mouth ebbed slowly away, leaving the faintest quiver of the muscles.

For the first time Gabriella saw George's mother look as she must look in her sleep, when the artificial cheerfulness of her expression faded into the profound unconsciousness which drowns not only happiness, but the very pretence of happiness.

So here, also, was insincerity, here, also, was the striving, not for realities, but for appearances! In a different form she saw her mother's struggle again--that struggle, without beginning and without end, which moved always in a circle and led nowhere.