say, although she herself was of
all women the most good-natured and most domestic; for she asked
Mr. Furnival to pass his Christmas-day at Noningsby, and I find it
impossible to forgive her that offence against the poor wife whom in
that case he must leave alone by her desolate hearth. She knew that
he was a married man as well as I do. Sophia, who had a proper regard
for the domestic peace of her parents, and who could have been happy
at Noningsby without a father's care, not unfrequently spoke of her,
so that her existence in Harley Street might not be forgotten by
the Staveleys--explaining, however, as she did so, that her dear
mother never left her own fireside in winter, so that no suspicion
might be entertained that an invitation was desired for her also;
nevertheless, in spite of all this, on two separate occasions did
Lady Staveley say to Mr. Furnival that he might as well prolong his
visit over Christmas.

And yet Lady Staveley was not attached to Mr. Furnival with any
peculiar warmth of friendship; but she was one of those women whose
foolish hearts will not allow themselves to be controlled in the
exercise of their hospitality. Her nature demanded of her that she
should ask a guest to stay. She would not have allowed a dog to
depart from her house at this season of the year, without suggesting
to him that he had better take his Christmas bone in her yard. It
was for Mr. Furnival to adjust all matters between himself and his
wife. He was not bound to accept the invitation because she gave it;
but she, finding him there, already present in the house, did feel
herself bound to give it;--for which offence, as I have said before,
I cannot bring myself to forgive her.

At his sin in staying away from home, or rather--as far as the story
has yet carried us--in thinking that he would do so, I am by no means
so much surprised. An angry ill-pleased wife is no pleasant companion
for a gentleman on a long evening. For those who have managed that
things shall run smoothly over the domestic rug there is no happier
time of life than these long candlelight hours of home and silence.
No spoken content or uttered satisfaction is necessary. The fact that
is felt is enough for peace. But when the fact is not felt; when
the fact is by no means there; when the thoughts are running in a
direction altogether different; when bitter grievances from one to
the other fill the heart, rather than memories of mutual kindness;
then, I