py, and sometimes ardently
happy; she seemed to have cast away from her any lingering remnants of
the manner of a great courtesan which had formerly clung about her.
Nigel would have denied that there had been such remnants; nevertheless,
he felt and rejoiced in the change that came. He said to himself that he
was justified of his loving experiment. He had restored to Ruby her
self-respect, her peace of mind and body, and in doing so he had won for
himself a joy that he had not known till now.

In that joy his nature expanded, his energies leaped up, his mind
kindled, his heart glowed and burned. He felt himself twice the man that
he had formerly been. He flung himself into his work with almost a
giant's strength, into his pleasure, riding, shooting, fishing, with the
enthusiasm of a boy for the first time freed from tutelage.

Mrs. Armine was rewarded for her effort of cunning by the happiness of
her husband, and by his gratitude and devotion to her. For she was
clever enough to put him into the place the world thought she ought to
occupy, into the humble seat of the grateful. She succeeded very soon in
infecting his mind with the idea that it was good of her to have married
him, that she had given up not a little in doing so. She never made a
complaint, but very often she indicated, as if by accident, that for the
sake of the upward progress she was enduring a certain amount of
definite hardship cheerfully. There was scarcely a day, for instance,
when she did not contrive to recall to his mind the fact that, for his
sake, she was doing without a maid for the first time in her life. Yet
she never said, "I wish I had kept Marie." Her method was, "How thankful
I am we decided to get rid of Marie, Nigel! She would have been wretched
here. The life would have killed her, though I manage to stand it so
splendidly. But servants never will put up with a little discomfort. And
it's so good of you not to mind my looking anyhow, and always wearing
the same old rag." Such things were said with a resolutely cheerful
voice which announced a moral effort.

As they sat at dinner, she would say, perhaps: "Isn't it extraordinary,
Nigel, how soon one gets not to care what one is eating, so long as one
can satisfy one's hunger? I remember the time when, for a woman, I was
almost an epicure, and now I can swallow Mohammed's dinners with
positive relish. Do give me another help of that extraordinary muddle he
calls a stew."

And in bed