"I had the room newly furnished. I thought you would like it," said Dr.
Grey.
"I do like it. How very kind you are to me!"
Kind—only kind!
She looked around the room, and there, in one corner, just as if she had never parted from them, were all the old treasures of her maidenhood—desk, work-table, chair. She guessed all the secret. Once, perhaps, she might have burst into tears—heart-warm tears; now she only sighed.
"Oh, how good you are!"
Her husband kissed her. Passively she took the caress, and again she sighed. Dr. Grey looked at her earnestly, then spoke in much agitation— "Christian, tell me truly, were you hurt at what occurred just now? I mean in the nursery."
"No, not in the least. It was inevitable."
"It was. Many things in life, quite inevitable, have yet to be met and borne, conquered even, if we can."
"Ay, if we can!"
And Christian looked up wistfully, almost entreatingly, to her husband, who, she now knew, and trembled at the knowledge, so solemn was the responsibility it brought, had loved her, and did love her, with a depth and passion such as a man like him never loves but one woman in all his life.