\" Lucy fought to resist the compulsion to 45 fold her arms over her chest. She released her clutch on it as, dizzy with exhaustion, she leaned against the back of the pew and closed her eyes, her fingers grasping out automatically for support. He was the social order; he was law and wisdom. “Oh! please don’t lose yourself in a wilderness of secondary considerations,” she said. ‘—and what do I do? Well, we know what I do. Her roving eagerness was at all times shaded with shyness, reserve, repression. Take care he don't see you,—and bring me word where he goes, and what he does. She thought of her aunt and that purse that was dropped on the table, and of many troublesome and ill-requited kindnesses; she thought of the help of the Widgetts, of Teddy’s admiration; she thought, with a new-born charity, of her father, of Manning’s conscientious unselfishness, of Miss Miniver’s devotion. Why, there's another party on the stair-head inquiring arter scullers; and, by the mass! they appear in a greater hurry than any on us. I can esteem him, regard him; but, love him as he ought to be loved—that I cannot do. She stared at him and thought the words, “My husband, my husband. ” He chuckled, wincing at the thought.
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