ognise it. She would be a good woman, rule
her little house, bring up her child, and have no will but her
husband's.

House-ruling was no easy matter. Things did not go as she wished; the
servants were inefficient, sometimes refractory, and she loathed the
task of keeping them up to their duties. Insomnia began to trouble her
again, and presently she had recourse to the forbidden
sleeping-draught. Not regularly, but once a week or so, when the long
night harried her beyond endurance. Rolfe did not suspect it, for she
never complained to him. Winter was her bad time. In the spring her
health would improve, as usual, and then she would give up the habit.

At Christmas the Langlands had the customary visit from their relative,
Mr. Thistlewood, who renewed his acquaintance with Alma. At their first
meeting she was struck by his buoyant air, his animated talk. A week
later, he called in the afternoon. Two ladies happened to be with Alma,
and they stayed a long time; but Thistlewood, who comported himself
rather oddly, saying little and sometimes neglecting a remark addressed
to him, stayed yet longer. When he was alone with his hostess, he took
a chair near to her, bent forward, and said, smiling----

'You remember our talk about marriage on a minute income?'

'I do, very well.'

'I have found someone who isn't afraid of it.'

'You have? The same person who formerly _was_?'

'No; she was not afraid of the income, but of me. I couldn't be
surprised, though it hit me hard. Time has spoken for me.'

Harvey was dining in town. He came back with vexatious news about Cecil
Morphew, who neglected business, looked ill, and altogether seemed in a
bad way. As he talked, he began to notice that Alma regarded him with
brighter and happier eyes than for many a day.

'Why does it amuse you?' he asked, stopping in his narrative.

'It doesn't; I'm as sorry as you are. But I have a surprise for you.'

'A pleasant one, this time, I see.'

'Mrs. Abbott is going to marry Mr. Thistlewood.'

She watched the effect of her words, and for an instant felt the old
pang, the old bitterness. But Harvey's confusion of feeling soon
passed, giving way to a satisfaction that could not be mistaken.

'Who has told you?'

'The happy man himself.'

'I am glad--heartily glad! But I didn't think it would interest you so
much.'

'Oh, women--marriages----!'

She threw a pretty scorn upon herself.

'Yes, that's good news. They will suit each