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"
Good
God
!
"
Will
burst
out
passionately
,
rising
,
with
his
hat
still
in
his
hand
,
and
walking
away
to
a
marble
table
,
where
he
suddenly
turned
and
leaned
his
back
against
it
.
The
blood
had
mounted
to
his
face
and
neck
,
and
he
looked
almost
angry
.
It
had
seemed
to
him
as
if
they
were
like
two
creatures
slowly
turning
to
marble
in
each
other
’
s
presence
,
while
their
hearts
were
conscious
and
their
eyes
were
yearning
.
But
there
was
no
help
for
it
.
It
should
never
be
true
of
him
that
in
this
meeting
to
which
he
had
come
with
bitter
resolution
he
had
ended
by
a
confession
which
might
be
interpreted
into
asking
for
her
fortune
.
Moreover
,
it
was
actually
true
that
he
was
fearful
of
the
effect
which
such
confessions
might
have
on
Dorothea
herself
.
She
looked
at
him
from
that
distance
in
some
trouble
,
imagining
that
there
might
hate
been
an
offence
in
her
words
.
But
all
the
while
there
was
a
current
of
thought
in
her
about
his
probable
want
of
money
,
and
the
impossibility
of
her
helping
him
.
If
her
uncle
had
been
at
home
,
something
might
have
been
done
through
him
!
It
was
this
preoccupation
with
the
hardship
of
Will
’
s
wanting
money
,
while
she
had
what
ought
to
have
been
his
share
,
which
led
her
to
say
,
seeing
that
he
remained
silent
and
looked
away
from
her
—
"
I
wonder
whether
you
would
like
to
have
that
miniature
which
hangs
up
-
stairs
—
I
mean
that
beautiful
miniature
OF
your
grandmother
.
I
think
it
is
not
right
for
me
to
keep
it
,
if
you
would
wish
to
have
it
.
It
is
wonderfully
like
you
.
"
"
You
are
very
good
,
"
said
Will
,
irritably
.
"
No
;
I
don
’
t
mind
about
it
.
It
is
not
very
consoling
to
have
one
’
s
own
likeness
.
It
would
be
more
consoling
if
others
wanted
to
have
it
.
"
"
I
thought
you
would
like
to
cherish
her
memory
—
I
thought
—
"
Dorothea
broke
off
an
instant
,
her
imagination
suddenly
warning
her
away
from
Aunt
Julia
’
s
history
—
"
you
would
surely
like
to
have
the
miniature
as
a
family
memorial
.
"
"
Why
should
I
have
that
,
when
I
have
nothing
else
!
A
man
with
only
a
portmanteau
for
his
stowage
must
keep
his
memorials
in
his
head
.
"
Will
spoke
at
random
:
he
was
merely
venting
his
petulance
;
it
was
a
little
too
exasperating
to
have
his
grandmother
’
s
portrait
offered
him
at
that
moment
.
But
to
Dorothea
’
s
feeling
his
words
had
a
peculiar
sting
.
She
rose
and
said
with
a
touch
of
indignation
as
well
as
hauteur
—
"
You
are
much
the
happier
of
us
two
,
Mr
.
Ladislaw
,
to
have
nothing
.
"
