He felt that she was ruffled by a vague discomfort.  That he should give himself away was natural, perhaps, and only made her wonder, but that he should give her the feeling that she had given herself away was a very different thing.

“Do you mind if I just ask at the Bishop’s Head for letters?” he said, as they passed the old hotel.

A dirty and thin envelope was brought to him, addressed “Mr. Richard Shelton, Esq.,” in handwriting that was passionately clear, as though the writer had put his soul into securing delivery of the letter.  It was dated three days back, and, as they rode away, Shelton read as follows: 

         &nb
sp;                    ImperialPeacock hotel,
          
                              Folkestone. 
Mon cher monsieur Shelton,

This is already the third time I have taken up pen to write to you, but, having nothing but misfortune to recount, I hesitated, awaiting better days.  Indeed, I have been so profoundly discouraged that if I had not thought it my duty to let you know of my fortunes I know not even now if I should have found the necessary spirit.  ’Les choses vont de mal en mal’.  From what I hear there has never been so bad a season here.  Nothing going on.  All the same, I am tormented by a mob of little matters which bring me not sufficient to support my life.  I know not what to do; one thing is certain, in no case shall I return here another year.  The patron of this hotel, my good employer, is one of those innumerable specimens who do not forge or steal because they have no need, and if they had would lack the courage; who observe the marriage laws because they have been brought up to believe in them, and know that breaking them brings risk and loss of reputation; who do not gamble because they dare not; do not drink because it disagrees with them; go to church because their neighbours go, and to procure an appetite for the mid-day meal; commit no murder because, not transgressing in any other fashion, they are not obliged.  What is there to respect in persons of this sort?  Yet they are highly esteemed, and form three quarters of Society.  The rule with these good gentlemen is to shut their eyes, never use their thinking powers, and close the door on all the dogs of life for fear they should get bitten.

Shelton paused, conscious of Antonia’s eyes fixed on him with the inquiring look that he had come to dread.  In that chilly questioning she seemed to say:  “I am waiting.  I am prepared to be told things—­that is, useful things—­things that help one to believe without the risk of too much thinking.”

“It’s from that young foreigner,” he said; and went on reading to himself.

I have eyes, and here I am; I have a nose ‘pour, flairer le humbug’.  I see that amongst the value of things nothing is the equal of “free thought.”  Everything else they can take from me, ’on ne pent pas m’oter cela’!  I see no future for me here, and certainly should have departed long ago if I had had the money, but, as I have already told you, all that I can do barely suffices to procure me ‘de quoi vivre’.  ’Je me sens ecceuye’.  Do not pay too much attention to my Jeremiads; you know what a pessimist I am.  ‘Je ne perds pas courage’.