"And very kind and loving. And you must know that you are much handsomer than you were before your marriage. You converse better, your manner is dignified yet gracious, your dress is rich, and in fine taste, and the touch of gray in your abundant black hair is exceedingly becoming to you. You are a fortunate woman."
"But, Dora, remember how long I waited for good fortune. I am in real living only two years old; all the years before my marriage were blank and dreary. I am forty years of age according to my birth date, and I have lived two, out of the forty."
"Thank God for the two years!"
"I do. We both do. Sir Thomas is very religious."
At length the Wyntons departed, and when Theodora had made her last adieu, and watched their carriage out of sight, she turned to her mother, who stood pale and depressed at her side.
"I am glad the visit is over. It has been something of a trial to you, mother—and to me also."
"The last week I was a little weary. But father and David enjoyed it, so it does not matter."
"Yes, it does matter. The men in a house should not be made happy at the cost of the women's exhaustion."
"How soon do you expect your husband?"
"Not for eight weeks—it may be longer, and it may be never."