Amy's marriage had been her constant thought from the
time when the little girl shot into a woman grown. For Amy no common
match, no acceptance of a husband merely for money or position. Few men
who walked the earth were mates for Amy. But years went on, and the man
of undeniable distinction did not yet present himself. Suitors offered,
but Amy smiled coldly at their addresses, in private not seldom
scornfully, and her mother, though growing anxious, approved. Then of a
sudden appeared Edwin Reardon.

A literary man? Well, it was one mode of distinction. Happily, a
novelist; novelists now and then had considerable social success.

Mr Reardon, it was true, did not impress one as a man likely to push
forward where the battle called for rude vigour, but Amy soon assured
herself that he would have a reputation far other than that of the
average successful storyteller. The best people would regard him; he
would be welcomed in the penetralia of culture; superior persons would
say: 'Oh, I don't read novels as a rule, but of course Mr Reardon's--'
If that really were to be the case, all was well; for Mrs Yule could
appreciate social and intellectual differences.

Alas! alas! What was the end of those shining anticipations?

First of all, Mrs Yule began to make less frequent mention of 'my
son-in-law, Mr Edwin Reardon.' Next, she never uttered his name save
when inquiries necessitated it. Then, the most intimate of her intimates
received little hints which were not quite easy to interpret.
'Mr Reardon is growing so very eccentric--has an odd distaste for
society--occupies himself with all sorts of out-of-the-way interests.
No, I'm afraid we shan't have another of his novels for some time.
I think he writes anonymously a good deal. And really, such curious
eccentricities!' Many were the tears she wept after her depressing
colloquies with Amy; and, as was to be expected, she thought severely
of the cause of these sorrows. On the last occasion when he came to
her house she received him with such extreme civility that Reardon
thenceforth disliked her, whereas before he had only thought her a
good-natured and silly woman.

Alas for Amy's marriage with a man of distinction! From step to step of
descent, till here was downright catastrophe. Bitter enough in itself,
but most lamentable with reference to the friends of the family. How was
it to be explained, this return of Amy to her home for several months,
whilst her husband was n