t say,
I have some curiosity to see how she behaves among folks."

"She's as modest and pretty in her ways as ever a girl could be,"
replied the deacon, who had learned during the past year to love his
son's wife; "you won't have any call to be ashamed of her. I can tell
you that much beforehand."

When Mrs. Little's eyes first fell upon her daughter-in-law, she gave an
involuntary start. In the two years during which Mrs. Little had not
seen her, Sally had changed from a timid, nervous, restless woman to a
calm and dignified one. Very much of her old girlish beauty had returned
to her, with an added sweetness from her sorrow. As she moved among the
guests, speaking with gentle greeting to each, all eyes followed her
with evident pleasure and interest. She wore a soft gray gown, which
clung closely to her graceful figure: one pale pink carnation at her
throat, and one in her hair, were her only ornaments. When Raby, with
his white frock and blue ribbons, was in her arms, the picture was one
which would have delighted an artist's eye. Mrs. Little felt a strange
mingling of pride and irritation at what she saw. Very keenly James
watched her: he hovered near her continually, ready to forestall any
thing unpleasant or to assist any reconciliation. She observed this;
observed, also, how his gaze followed each movement of Sally's: she
understood it.

"You needn't hang round so, Jim," she said: "I can see for myself. If
it's any comfort to you, I'll say that your wife's the most improved
woman I ever saw; and I'm very glad on't. But I ain't going to speak to
her: I've said I won't, and I won't. People must lie on their beds as
they make 'em."

James made no reply, but walked away. It seemed to him that, at that
instant, a chord in his filial love snapped, and was for ever lost.

Moment by moment, Sally watched and waited for the recognition which
never came. Bearing Raby in her arms, she passed and repassed, drawing
as near Mrs. Little as she dared. "Surely she must see that nobody else
here wholly despises me," thought the poor woman; and, whenever any one
spoke with especial kindness to her, she glanced involuntarily to see if
her mother-in-law were observing it. But all in vain. Mrs. Little's pale
and weak blue eyes roamed everywhere, but never seemed to rest on Sally
for a second. Gradually Sally comprehended that all her hopes had been
unfounded, and a deep sadness settled on her expressive face. "It's no
use," she