ome unlovely features connected with
their cult; but remember there is always a modicum of truth behind such
axioms. A married woman, if she is worth her salt, lives not for
herself, but for her household. If she has wider possibilities of joy,
she has also infinitely greater possibilities of pain. Even putting the
husband apart--and he as a rule comes first of all--if she has ten
children, she must needs suffer with each of the ten. Give her every
ease and luxury in the world, and if one of the brood is in trouble, the
poor soul must go down to the depths by his side. To be a wife and
mother is the hardest profession in the world; some people also consider
it the worst repaid. Don't allow yourself to be blinded by sentiment
concerning the married life. Remember its drawbacks; exaggerate them if
you will. Your best medicine is content; to secure that, cultivate, if
needs be, a little intentional blindness. Never allow yourself to
believe that your happiness is necessarily sacrificed!"

"Thank you," repeated the girl once more.

It was the great man's duty to exhort, and preach cheerfulness and
resignation, but to-day his trained physiological eye gave the lie to
his words. This was not a woman whom nature had framed to live alone.
Hers was a tender and appealing grace; long sweeping lashes lent a
veiled softness to her eyes; her lips were red and curved; her figure,
though slim, was gracefully rounded; an atmosphere of feminine charm
enveloped her whole personality. Men would love her, children would
love her; but she must turn from them and live alone. The doctor's
thoughts over-leapt professional bounds, and took an intimate, personal
tone.

"You say you are a comparative stranger in town," he said abruptly.
"You ought to have friends--plenty of friends. My wife is at home every
Sunday afternoon. Will you come to see us sometimes, and let us do what
we can to help your life?"

"Thank you," said the girl for the third time. After a moment's
hesitation she added quickly, "You are very good. I should like to
come."

"That's well. Come soon. We shall expect you next Sunday, or the one
following. Good afternoon."

The door opened and shut, and the girl found herself once more in the
big, grim entrance hall. A table of carved oak strewed with cards and
letters occupied the centre position; plaster busts of well-known
scientific men stood on brackets to right and left, a glass case
containing stuf