t morning Adriana called on her mother-in-law. In her wedding
Bible, Peter had written the words of the pious Raguel--"Honor thy
father and thy mother-in-law, which are now thy parents; that I may
hear a good report of thee"--and she had conscientiously tried to
fulfil this domestic law. But Harry's marriage had never been quite
forgiven by his parents, and in some way both of them had convinced
themselves that Harry was not to blame for it. Adriana had cast some
spell over him--or won some advantage--or Miss Alida, to further her
own plans, had used some underhand influence which they felt it as
hard to understand as to forgive. But Mrs. Filmer was much too polite
and conventional to permit the public to share her dissatisfaction.
However cold and formal she was to Adriana, she talked of her
daughter-in-law to her acquaintances as "a most suitable person for
her son's wife."

"The match is the realization of my husband's desire to unite the two
branches of the family and consolidate its wealth," she said to every
one. And in her heart she did acknowledge not only this advantage, but
also the many virtues and charms of Adriana; for it was not her reason
that was disappointed; it was her maternal jealousy that was
offended.

On this morning she was unusually pleasant to Adriana. She had not
seen her for some months; she had brought her some handsome souvenirs,
and been soothed by her satisfaction and gratitude; and she was very
desirous to make peace between Adriana and Rose, and so induce Adriana
to give Rose the benefit of her influence and countenance in society.
The visit was, therefore, so confidential and affectionate that
Adriana, in a moment of unguarded emotion, resolved to tell Mrs.
Filmer about the change in Harry. Naturally she thought it would
delight his mother; and she considered the momentary reluctance that
assailed her as a selfish feeling.

"Mother," she said, "I have something very good to tell you about
Harry."

"What is it? Gracious knows, I ought to hear something pleasant about
Harry; for Rose's affairs are enough to break my heart." Her tone was
querulous, rather than interested, and Adriana wished she had not
spoken. A sudden fear that she was violating a sacred confidence
troubled her, for where there is no sympathy, spiritual confidences
are violated and wronged by being shared. It was, however, too late to
be silent, but she involuntarily chose the person most removed for the
opening of