A hateful bitterness
against her preserver and the tricks of fate had been his solitary
feeling, till suddenly he realized the part he had played, and saw
himself for a naked coward. Coward he called himself-without
reflection; for in such a moment the mind thinks in crude colours and
bold lines of division. He set his teeth in his lip, and with a heart
sinking at the shameful thought stalked into the farm stables where the
Glenavelin servants were.
He could not return to the Pool. Alice was little hurt, so anxiety was
needless; better let him leave Mr. Stocks to enjoy his heroics in
peace. He would find an excuse; meanwhile, give him quiet and solitude
to digest his bitterness. He cursed himself for the unworthiness of his
thoughts. What a pass had he come to when he grudged a little _kudos_
to a rival, grudged it churlishly, childishly. He flung from him the
self-reproach. Other people would wonder at his ungenerousness, and his
sulky ill-nature. They would explain by the first easy discreditable
reason. What eared he for their opinion when he knew the far greater
shame in his heart?
For as he strode up the woodland path to Etterick the wrappings of
surface passion fell off from his view of the past hour, and he saw the
bald and naked ribs of his own incapacity. It was a trivial incident to
the world, but to himself a momentous self-revelation.
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