for any opposition he had
made. But with what a bleeding heart she would have done it, and how
hateful would have been the necessity which separated her from his
goodwill and assistance! Now she felt that terrible danger was over.
Probably he would not ask her what she had been about. He would not give
it his approval, which would have been most sweet of all, but if he did
not interfere, if he permitted it to be done without opposition, without
even demanding of his wife an account of her action, how much that would
be, and how cordially, with what a genuine impulse of the heart would
she set to work to carry out his wishes--he who had been so generous, so
kind to her! This was how it was that her gaiety, the ease and
happiness of her look, startled them all so much. That she should have
been amiable to the new comers was comprehensible. She was so amiable by
nature, and so ignorant and unsuspicious: but that their coming should
give her pleasure, this was the thing that confounded the spectators:
they could not understand how any other subject should withdraw her from
what is supposed to be a wife's master emotion--nay, they could not
understand how it was that mere instinct had not enlightened Lucy, and
pointed out to her what elements were coming together that would be
obnoxious to her peace. Even Sir Tom felt this, with a deepened
tenderness for his pure-minded little wife, and pride in her
unconsciousness. Was there another woman in England who would have been
so entirely generous, so unaware even of the possibility of evil? He
admired her for it, and wondered--if it was a little silly (which he had
a kind of undisclosed suspicion that it was), yet what a heavenly
silliness. There was nobody else who would have been so magnanimous, so
confident in his perfect honour and truth.

The only other element that could have added to Lucy's satisfaction was
also present. Little Tom was better than usual. Notwithstanding the cold
he had been able to go out, and was all the brighter for it, not chilled
and coughing as he sometimes was. His mother had found him careering
about his nursery in wild glee, and flinging his toys about, in
perfectly boyish, almost mannish, altogether wicked, indifference to the
danger of destroying them. It was this that brought her downstairs
radiant to the luncheon table, where Lady Randolph and Williams were so
anxious to be good to her. Lucy was much surprised by the solicitude
which she felt to