e in the
presence of her daughter-in-law? For the same reason as that which had
impelled her to keep silence before her sons in former times. Her own
husband had been a man of delicate health, quite unequal to the strain
of managing his worldly affairs; he had married her in order that she
might supply his deficiencies. She had undoubtedly increased the value
of his property; but in the process she wore him down. This man with
his gentle smile, his varied intellectual interests, and his lofty
ideals, suffered in her society. She could not destroy his nobler
nature, but his peace of mind and content she did contrive to ruin. And
yet the beauty of his character, which she had ignored while he lived,
exercised its influence over her after he was dead; and when she saw it
reanimated in the sons, or looking, as if in reproachful reminiscence
of the past, through the pure eyes of her daughter-in-law, she felt
herself subdued and overawed.

I have said the stones thrown by the grandmother seemed to have struck
home in the grandsons and to have lodged deep in their hearts. Look at
the two men as they walk in the procession! The younger--the one in
civilian dress--had a smile round his somewhat thin lips, a smile in
his small eyes; but it seemed to me that it would hardly be safe to
presume on this. He had owed his advancement to his father's political
friends, and had learnt, early in life, to show himself subservient and
grateful, even when there was little enough gratitude in his heart.

But now turn to the elder of the two young men. The same small head,
the same low brow, but with more breadth in both. No smile _there_
on mouth or eyes; I could not conceive the wish to see him smile. Tall
and lean like his brother, he had more bone and muscle; and while both
young men had an appearance of athletic power, as if they could have
leaped over the hearse, the elder gave you the further impression
that he was actually longing to perform some such feat. The younger
brother's half languid gait, that told of bodily strength impaired by
disuse, had become in the elder an impatient elasticity as if he moved
on springs. His thoughts were clearly elsewhere; his eyes wandered
absently to and fro, and his pre-occupation was obvious enough to me
later on, when I offered him my card and reminded him of our previous
acquaintance.

Subsequently I got into conversation with several of the townsfolk, and
I inquired what had become of the old