Chapter Twenty

It was horrible to Mrs Whitley to think how it must sink him in the general opinion, to foresee the regret, the humiliation, the gloomy mood through his agony; of course the mortification and disdain of the father and son, the thousand inconveniences to himself in particular. Could it be fair enough? No, it was impossible. And yet it was far, yes, very far from fair, also from possible as well. Could it be a sin for a man of first-rate abilities to be captivated by an inferior power? Was it a crime to fight for the weak even when you're not one of them, or perhaps too much to seek what you want, to be the prize for a lady who would seek your happiness in return? - Could it be offensive for any thing in this part of the world to be unequal, inconsistent, incongruous; or by chance and divinity to direct the human fate? She wondered within her mind, as she sat down alone at the table.

However she had made up her mind how to resolve this presumption so many times before that final verdic