d at the same time turned away from him. She
had repudiated him, first as a lover, then as a friend; and he had
hitherto never been able to gauge the depth of the affection for him
which had underlaid all her conduct. As he stood there thinking of it
all, he began to understand it.

How natural had been her conduct on his arrival, and how like that
of a genuine, true-hearted, honest woman! All her first thoughts had
been for his little personal wants,--that he should be warmed, and
fed, and made outwardly comfortable. Let sorrow be ever so deep,
and love ever so true, a man will be cold who travels by winter,
and hungry who has travelled by night. And a woman, who is a true,
genuine woman, always takes delight in ministering to the natural
wants of her friend. To see a man eat and drink, and wear his
slippers, and sit at ease in his chair, is delightful to the feminine
heart that loves. When I heard the other day that a girl had herself
visited the room prepared for a man in her mother's house, then
I knew that she loved him, though I had never before believed it.
Phineas, as he stood there, was aware that this woman loved him
dearly. She had embraced him, and given her face to him to kiss. She
had clasped his hands, and clung to him, and had shown him plainly
that in the midst of all her sorrow she could be made happy by
his coming. But he was a man far too generous to take all this as
meaning aught that it did not mean,--too generous, and intrinsically
too manly. In his character there was much of weakness, much of
vacillation, perhaps some deficiency of strength and purpose; but
there was no touch of vanity. Women had loved him, and had told him
so; and he had been made happy, and also wretched, by their love. But
he had never taken pride, personally, to himself because they had
loved him. It had been the accident of his life. Now he remembered
chiefly that this woman had called herself his sister, and he was
grateful.

Then he thought of her personal appearance. As yet he had hardly
looked at her, but he felt that she had become old and worn, angular
and hard-visaged. All this had no effect upon his feelings towards
her, but filled him with ineffable regret. When he had first known
her she had been a woman with a noble presence--not soft and feminine
as had been Violet Effingham, but handsome and lustrous, with a
healthy youth. In regard to age he and she were of the same standing.
That he knew well. She had pass