one, and what so natural as that she should ask her old aunt
to come to her?"

John was still deeply cogitating on this knotty point when the children
came back, and conducted him and Valentine to the place where Brandon
was at work, and Dorothea sitting near him on a tree-stump knitting.

None of the party ever forgot that afternoon, but each remembered it as
an appeal to his own particular circumstances. Brandon was deep in the
contentment of a great wish fulfilled. The newly-perfected life was
fresh and sweet, and something of reserve in the character and manners
of his wife seemed to restrain him from using up the charm of it too
fast. His restless and passionate nature was at once satisfied and kept
in check by the freshness and moderation of hers. She received his
devotion very quietly, made no demonstrations, but grew to him, laid up
his confidences in her heart, and let him discover--though she never
said it--that all the rest of the world was becoming as nothing for his
sake. Accordingly it did not occur to him, excepting on Valentine's own
account, to consider how he might feel during this interview. He
noticed that he was a little sulky and perhaps rather out of
countenance; he did not wonder at these things; but being absolutely
secure of his wife's love, he never even said to himself how impossible
it was that her affection should revert to Valentine; but this was for
the simple reason that he had never thought about that matter at all. He
talked to Valentine on indifferent subjects, and felt that he should be
glad when he had got over the awkwardness he was then evidently
enduring, for they had been accustomed, far more than most brothers, to
live together on terms of familiar intimacy, and only one of them at
present was aware that this could never be again.

Valentine also never forgot, but often saw that picture again with the
fresh fulness of the leaves for a background to the girlish figure; and
the fair face so innocent and candid and so obviously content. She was
seated opposite to him, with Brandon on the grass close to her. In
general they addressed each other merely by the Christian name, but just
before John rose to take leave, Dorothea dropped her ball. It rolled a
little way, and pointing it out to Brandon with her long wooden
knitting-pin, she said, in a soft quiet tone, "Love, will you pick it
up?" and Valentine, who had overheard the little speech, was
inexpressibly hurt, almost indignant