lore declared that,
whether or not she acknowledged its righteousness, her woman's vanity
would take arms against it.

Caius had written to Josephine a letter of common friendliness upon the
occasion of her husband's death, and had received in return a brief
sedate note that might, indeed, have been written by the ancient lady
whom the quaint Italian handwriting learned in the country convent had
at first figured to his imagination. He knew from this letter that
Josephine did not suppose that blame attached to O'Shea. She spoke of
her husband's death as an accident. Caius knew that she had accepted it
as a deliverance from God. It was this attitude of hers which made the
whole circumstance appear to him the more solemn.

So Caius waited through the lovely season in which summer hovers with
warm sunshiny wings over a land of flowers before she settles down upon
it to abide. He was unhappy. A shade, whose name was Failure, lived
with him day by day, and spoke to him concerning the future as well as
the past. Debating much in his mind what he might do, fearing to make
his plight worse by doing anything, he grew timid at the very thought of
addressing Josephine. Happily, there is something more merciful to a man
than his own self--something which in his hour of need assists him, and
that often very bountifully.

CHAPTER XII.

TO CALL A SPIRIT FROM THE VASTY DEEP.

It was when the first wild-flowers of the year had passed away, and
scarlet columbine and meadow-rue waved lightly in the sunny glades of
the woods, and all the world was green--the new and perfect green of
June--that one afternoon Caius, at his father's door, met a visitor who
was most rarely seen there. It was Farmer Day. He accosted Caius,
perhaps a little sheepishly, but with an obvious desire to be civil, for
he had a favour to ask which he evidently considered of greater
magnitude than Caius did when he heard what it was. Day's wife was ill.
The doctor of the locality had said more than once that she would not
live many days, but she had gone on living some time, it appeared, since
this had been first said. Day did not now call upon Caius as a medical
man. His wife had taken a fancy to see him because of his remembered
efforts to save her child. Day said apologetically that it was a woman's
whim, but he would be obliged if Caius, at his convenience, would call
upon her. It spoke much for the long peculiarity and dreariness of Day's
domestic li