y.

He fully forgave the former rejection, and declared that it was with
far more hope and confidence of their happiness that he now accorded
his sanction than when last it had been asked; and the terms in which he
spoke of his daughter seemed to deepen her humility by the strength of
their commendation.

Happy days succeeded; the lodgings in Piccadilly were nearly deserted,
Percy was always either nursing Arthur, playing with the children,
or bringing sheets of Byzantine history for revision; and he was much
slower in looking over Theodora's copies of them than in writing them
himself. There was much grave quiet talk between the lovers when
alone together. They were much altered since the time when their chief
satisfaction seemed to lie in teasing and triumphing over one another;
past troubles and vague prospects had a sobering influence; and they
felt that while they enjoyed their present union as an unlooked-for
blessing, it might be only a resting point before a long period of
trial, separation, and disappointment. It gave a resigned tone to their
happiness, even while its uncertainty rendered it more precious.

All mirthfulness, except what the children called forth, was reserved
for Arthur's room; but he thought Percy as gay and light-hearted as
ever, and his sister not much less so. Percy would not bring their
anxieties to depress the fluctuating spirits, which, wearied with the
sameness of a sick-room, varied with every change of weather, every
sensation of the hour.

Theodora almost wondered at Percy's talking away every desponding fit of
Arthur's, whether about his health, his money matters, or their hopes.
She said, though it was most trying to hear him talk of never coming
down again, of not living to see the children grow up, and never
allowing that he felt better, that she thought, considering how much
depended on the impression now made, it might be false kindness to talk
away his low spirits. Were they not repentance? Perhaps Percy was right,
but she should not have dared to do so.

'Theodora, you do not know the difference between reflection and
dejection. Arthur's repentance is too deep a thing for surface talk. It
does not depend on my making him laugh or not.'

'If anxiety about himself keeps it up--'

'If I let him believe that I do not think he will recover, for the sake
of encouraging his repentance, I should be leaving him in a delusion,
and that I have no right to do. Better let him feel