Truly that sort of thing had so little
power to hurt or disturb him personally, that he was incapable of seeing
how it could hurt or disturb others. If those who read it were affected,
so much the worse for them. He had a real, if unobtrusive, contempt for
groundlings, of whatever class; and it never entered his head to step an
inch out of his course in deference to their vagaries. Nor did it come
home to him that Mrs. Noel, wrapped in the glamour which he cast about
her, could possibly suffer from the meanness of vulgar minds. Shropton's
note, indeed, caused him the more annoyance of those two documents. It
was like his brother-in-law to make much of little!
He hardly dozed at all during his swift journey through the sleeping
country; nor when he reached his room at Monkland did he go to bed. He
had the wonderful, upborne feeling of man on the verge of achievement.
His spirit and senses were both on fire--for that was the quality of
this woman, she suffered no part of him to sleep, and he was glad of her
exactions.
He drank some tea; went out, and took a path up to the moor. It was not
yet eight o'clock when he reached the top of the nearest tor. And there,
below him, around, and above, was a land and sky transcending even his
exaltation. It was like a symphony of great music; or the nobility of
a stupendous mind laid bare; it was God up there, in His many moods.
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