"If she had fewer of life's blessings," said one, "she would be happier. The very surplus of every thing makes her appetite pall."
"Any woman, situated as she is," remarked another, "who is not contented, deserves to be wretched. I have no sympathy for her. Her husband I know very well, and know him to be one of the kindest and most indulgent of men."
"He has indulged her too much," alleged another.
These impressions the elder Mrs. Edwards strengthened and confirmed, whenever she had occasion to say any thing on the subject.
"Percy has rather a gloomy time of it," she would sometimes remark, when allusion was made to the subject; and then, when the inquisitive would ask as to the cause of Kate's strange conduct, she would shake her head gravely, and say—
"Over-indulgence has spoiled her."
Or—
"It's hard to tell what ails her, unless it be the desire for some impossible thing. Some minds are never content. To multiply their blessings is but to multiply their misery."
Or—
"Heaven knows what ails her! Percy would give worlds for that knowledge, if with it came also the remedy."