He had no suspicion of the long weekly letters she wrote to New York, which Edward proudly exhibited to her guardian, as a proof of her persevering application, but was rather surprised at her serious reply:
"We ought to improve the talents God has given us."
"Just so," he said somewhat piqued at her implied reproof; "but where little is given, little will be required."
She had seldom been so wounded as now. Her breast heaved convulsively; and it was with difficulty she commanded herself to restrain her tears. She rose presently and left the room; and her closet witnessed a burst of grief such as she had not experienced for months.
"I cannot live so," she repeated again, and again. "How can I win my husband's respect?"
A thought of Miss Richmond flashed through her mind. Paul spoke frequently of her splendid abilities; of her accomplishments which rendered her society sought after. "I admired her ease and perfect self-possession," soliloquized the grieved wife, "and used to wonder how she dared converse with gentlemen so freely upon politics and professional life; but there is something about her I wouldn't like to imitate. I think it is her boldness; not of feeling, I dare say, but of manner. Marion is equally well educated; and to me she appears far more attractive; while she is so modest the veriest trifle will call a blush to her cheek. I feel that God has given me powers; and I will make the most of them. Some time Paul may regret that he has classed me with the lowest."
This hope gave a fresh impetus to her studies. Marion wondered at the rapidity with which her mind was unfolding; and so did Edward, who encouraged her to write freely on every subject which interested her. It had become her habit of late to send him themes, or abstracts of what she read; and occasionally she surprised him with a few verses of poetry, very original thoughts, gracefully expressed and in correct measure and rhythm.
Her mourning prevented the necessity for going into general society. A few times she met a circle of agreeable friends at Dr. Gilbert's, and gained not a little confidence in herself, when she found she too could converse on subjects of general interest in a manner to gain the respect of her companions.
Once, only, Paul accompanied her there; and then staid but a short time, excusing himself on the plea of a pressing engagement.
Gertrude happened to be standing by a table chatting with a gentleman about some engravings which lay upon it. There was one picture of Abbotsford; and as she had just been reading the life of Sir Walter Scott, in connection with English Literature, she felt a good deal of enthusiasm on the subject. In her artless way she was pointing out the beauties of the situation, narrating facts in regard to them, when her husband passed and gave her a glance of warning, which sent a crimson tide to her fair cheek. The look was not lost on the gentleman, who wondered what it could mean. The young wife knew that her husband feared she would disgrace him by her ignorance.