He did condemn her in his heart. He thought she was not a neglectful,
but a mistaken mother. He thought her so impulsive as to be dangerous,
perhaps, even to those she loved best. Almost she divined that curious
desire of his to protect Vere against her. And yet without her
impulsive nature he himself might long ago have died.
She could not help at this time dwelling secretly on one or two
actions of hers, could not help saying to herself now and then: "I
have been some good in the world. I am capable of unselfishness
sometimes. I did leave my happiness for Emile's sake, because I had a
great deal of friendship and was determined to live up to it. My
impulses are not always crazy and ridiculous."
She did this, she was obliged to do it, to prevent the feeling of
impotence from overwhelming her. She had to do it to give herself
strength to get up out of the dust. The human creature dares not say
to itself, "You are nothing." And now Hermione, feeling the withdrawal
from her of her friend, believing in the withdrawal from her of her
child, spoke to herself, pleading her own cause to her own soul
against invisible detractors.
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