ot that principle was
wanting; but it had never been called forth. She moved in her own circle
with very little remark or comment. She was cheerful, and even sprightly in
her manner, and her large blue eyes, as well as her lips, always spoke the
truth. I do not know that she was ever called beautiful; but there was an
air of _ladyhood_ about her, from the folding of her soft brown hair to the
gloving of a somewhat large but exquisitely-shaped hand, that marked her at
once as possessing both taste and refinement.

I remember that friends spoke of her engagement with Willis Grant as a
"good match," and rather wondered that she did not seem more elated with
the prospect of being the mistress of such a pleasant little establishment
as would be hers, for she was one of a large family of daughters, and her
father's income as a professional man did not equal that of Willis, who was
at the head of one of our largest mercantile houses. But it was in her
nature to take things calmly, though she was young, and all the kindness of
his attentions, and the prospect of a new home, as much as any happy bride
could have done. It _was_ a delightful home--not so extravagantly furnished
as Willis would have chosen it to be, but tasteful, and withal including
many of those luxuries and elegancies which we of the nineteenth century
are rapidly, too rapidly, learning to need. Willis declared that no one
could be happier than they were; and, strange as it may seem, the envious
world for once prophesied no cloud in the future.

But we have nothing to do with that first eventful year of married
life--the year of attrition in mind and character, when two natures,
differing in many points, and these sharpened as it were by education, are
suddenly brought into immediate contact. There were some ideals overthrown,
no doubt--it is often so; and some good qualities discovered, which were
unsuspected before. The second anniversary of the wedding-day was also the
birth-day of a darling child, and the home was more homelike than ever.

Yet Willis Grant was seldom there. It was not that he loved his wife the
less--that her beauty had faded, or her temper changed. She was the same as
ever--gentle, affectionate, and thoughtful for his wishes; and he
appreciated all this. But before he had known her, in those wild idle days
of early manhood, when the spirit craves continual excitement, and has not
yet learned that it is the love of woman's purer nature which