ieved comradeship,
in the office and out of it; revelations for Janet when he talked of
himself, relating the little incidents she found most illuminating. And
thus by degrees she was able to build up a new and truer estimate of
him. For example, she began to perceive that his life outside of his
interest in the mills, instead of being the romance of privileged joys
she had once imagined, had been almost as empty as her own, without
either unity or direction. Her perception was none the less keen because
definite terms were wanting for its expression. The idea of him that
first had captivated her was that of an energized and focussed character
controlling with a sure hand the fortunes of a great organization; of
a power in the city and state, of a being who, in his leisure moments,
dwelt in a delectable realm from which she was excluded. She was still
acutely conscious of his force, but what she now felt was its lack of
direction--save for the portion that drove the Chippering Mills. The
rest of it, like the river, flowed away on the line of least resistance
to the sea.

As was quite natural, this gradual discovery of what he was--or of what
he wasn't--this truer estimate, this partial disillusionment, merely
served to deepen and intensify the feeling he had aroused in her; to
heighten, likewise, the sense of her own value by confirming a belief in
her possession of certain qualities, of a kind of fibre he needed in
a helpmate. She dwelt with a woman's fascination upon the prospect of
exercising a creative influence--even while she acknowledged the fearful
possibility of his power in unguarded moments to overwhelm and destroy
her. Here was another incentive to resist the gusts of his passion. She
could guide and develop him by helping and improving herself. Hope and
ambition throbbed within her, she felt a contempt for his wife, for the
women who had been her predecessors. He had not spoken of these, save
once or twice by implication, but with what may seem a surprising
leniency she regarded them as consequences of a life lacking in content.
If only she could keep her head, she might supply that content, and
bring him happiness! The thought of his children troubled her most, but
she was quick to perceive that he got nothing from them; and even though
it were partly his own fault, she was inclined to lay the heavier blame
on the woman who had been their mother. The triviality, the emptiness of
his existence outside of th