at parting, a gayety of manner adding wonderfully
to his brave demeanour.

"Yes," said Carrie, tripping elatedly away.

There had been so much enthusiasm engendered that she was believing
herself deeply in love. She sighed as she thought of her handsome
adorer. Yes, she would get ready by Saturday. She would go, and they
would be happy.

Chapter XXII. THE BLAZE OF THE TINDER--FLESH WARS WITH THE FLESH

The misfortune of the Hurstwood household was due to the fact that
jealousy, having been born of love, did not perish with it. Mrs.
Hurstwood retained this in such form that subsequent influences could
transform it into hate. Hurstwood was still worthy, in a physical sense,
of the affection his wife had once bestowed upon him, but in a social
sense he fell short. With his regard died his power to be attentive to
her, and this, to a woman, is much greater than outright crime toward
another. Our self-love dictates our appreciation of the good or evil in
another. In Mrs. Hurstwood it discoloured the very hue of her husband's
indifferent nature. She saw design in deeds and phrases which sprung
only from a faded appreciation of her presence.

As a consequence, she was resentful and suspicious. The jealousy that
prompted her to observe every falling away from the little amenities of
the married relation on his part served to give her notice of the
airy grace with which he still took the world. She could see from
the scrupulous care which he exercised in the matter of his personal
appearance that his interest in life had abated not a jot. Every motion,
every glance had something in it of the pleasure he felt in Carrie, of
the zest this new pursuit of pleasure lent to his days. Mrs. Hurstwood
felt something, sniffing change, as animals do danger, afar off.

This feeling was strengthened by actions of a direct and more potent
nature on the part of Hurstwood. We have seen with what irritation he
shirked those little duties which no longer contained any amusement of
satisfaction for him, and the open snarls with which, more recently,
he resented her irritating goads. These little rows were really
precipitated by an atmosphere which was surcharged with dissension. That
it would shower, with a sky so full of blackening thunderclouds, would
scarcely be thought worthy of comment. Thus, after leaving the breakfast
table this morning, raging inwardly at his blank declaration of
indifference at her plans, Mrs. Hurstwood encoun