mply on a level with the brainless
multitude of her sex. One evening, when they were together in his room,
he took down a volume, and blew the dust off it, saying as he did so----

'They're not often disturbed nowadays, these solid old fellows.'

'But I suppose you like to have them about you?' Alma replied
carelessly, as she glanced at the shelves.

'Why, yes, they're good furniture; help to warm the room.'

'No doubt they do,' Alma replied. 'It's always more comfortable here
than in the drawing-room.'

Daily he asked himself whether she was reconciled to the loss of her
ambitions, and he could not feel any certainty. In the present state of
her health it might be natural for her to acquiesce in a humdrum life;
but when the next few months were over, and she found herself once more
able to move about as she pleased, would her mind remain the same?
Happy she was not, and probably nothing in his power to do could make
her so. Marriage rarely means happiness, either for man or woman; if it
be not too grievous to be borne, one must thank the fates and take
courage. But Harvey had a troublesome conscience. In acting with
masculine decision, with the old-fashioned authority of husbands, he
had made himself doubly responsible for any misery that might come to
Alma through the conditions of her life. It might be that, on the
higher plane of reasoning, he was by no means justified; there might
have been found a middle way, which, whilst guarding Alma from obvious
dangers, still left her free to enjoy and to aspire. What he had done
was very much like the clipping of wings. Practically it might be
needful, and of safe result; but there is a world beyond the barnyard,
for all that; and how should he know, with full assurance, whether Alma
had not suffered a grave wrong! He durst not reopen the discussion with
her. He had taken his stand, and must hold it, or lose all
self-respect. Marriage is like life itself, easiest to those who think
least about it. Rolfe knew that well enough, and would gladly have
acted upon the knowledge; he came nearest to doing so at the times when
Hughie was his companion. Relieved by the nursemaid from duties she had
only borne by the exertion of something like heroism, Alma once more
drew a broad line of demarcation between nursery and drawing-room; it
was seldom she felt in a mood for playing with the child, and she had
no taste for 'going walks'. But Harvey could not see too much of the
little b