eighbourhood--but you
_do_, Philip. You have no society, and Battersby is nothing but a
manufacturing place--"

"Battersby is three and a half miles off; too far for its noise or its
smoke to reach us; and we can get society, as much as we want, and
_what_ we want; and in such a place there is always a great deal that
might be done."

The talk went on for some time; Mrs. Caruthers seeming amazed and
mystified, Tom dissatisfied and critical. At last, being informed that
their own quarters were ready, the later comers withdrew, after
agreeing that they would all sup together.

"Tom," said Mrs. Caruthers presently, "whom did Mr. Dillwyn marry?"

"Whom did he marry?"

"Yes. Who was she before she married?"

"I always heard she was nobody," Tom answered, with something between a
grunt and a groan.

"Nobody! But that's nonsense. I haven't seen a woman with more style in
a great while."

"Style!" echoed Tom, and his word would have had a sharp addition if he
had not been speaking to his wife; but Tom was before all things a
gentleman. As it was, his tone would have done honour to a grisly bear
somewhat out of temper.

"Yes," repeated Mrs. Caruthers. "You may not know it, Tom, being a man;
but _I_ know what I am saying; and I tell you Mrs. Dillwyn has very
distinguished manners. I hope we may see a good deal of them."

Meanwhile Lois was standing still where they had left her, in front of
the fire; looking down meditatively into it. Her face was grave, and
her abstraction for some minutes deep. I suppose her New England
reserve was struggling with her individual frankness of nature, for she
said no word, and Mr. Dillwyn, who was watching her, also stood silent.
At last frankness, or affection, got the better of reserve; and, with a
slow, gentle motion she turned to him, laying one hand on his shoulder,
and sinking her face upon his breast.

"Lois! what is it?" he asked, folding his arms about her.

"Philip, it smites me!"

"What, my darling?" he said, almost startled. And then she lifted up
her face and looked at him.

"To know myself so happy, and to see them so unhappy. Philip, they are
not happy,--neither one of them!"

"I am afraid it is true. And we can do nothing to help them."

"No, I see that too."

Lois said it with a sigh, and was silent again. Philip did not choose
to push the subject further, uncertain how far her perceptions went,
and not wishing to give them any assistance. Lois stood silent