keep up the tone
of their own minds, and she might be being useful to the world as well
as to her own family. If he wanted a mere household drudge, why had he
not looked elsewhere? Up went her queenly head, as she believed her
powers were meant for other things; but her heart gave a painful throb
at the recollection that poverty had been her voluntary choice, and had
seemed perfect felicity with James. Alas! she loved, honoured, and
admired him, as her upright, unselfish, uncompromising husband, but
worries, and rebukes, and tart answers, had made many a rent in the
veil in which her fancy had enfolded him. Sir Roland had disappeared,
and James and Sir Hubert were falling farther and farther asunder.

And Isabel sighed, partly at the memory of the imaginary being for whom
she had taken James, and partly at the future prospect, the narrow
sphere, the choice between solitude and dull society, the homely toils
that must increase, worn-out garments, perpetual alphabets, children
always whining, and James always irritated, thinking her remiss, and
coming in with that furrow on his forehead, and his hair standing up
wildly. She shrank from the contemplation, took her letter-case on her
knee, moved close to the fire to profit by the light, stirred up a
clear flame, and proceeded with the benevolent hermit, who came to the
rescue when Sir Hubert was at the last gasp, and Adeline had received
his beautiful resigned words. The hermit had transported him into his
hut, and comforted Adeline, and was beginning a consolatory harangue,
making revelations that were to set everything right, when just as he
had gone as far as 'My son, know that I did not always wear this
amice,' there was a tap at the door, and she saw Fitzjocelyn, who had
been at Oakstead for the last few weeks, attending to some matters
connected with his constituency.

'Ah! is it you?' she said, her lap too full of papers for her to rise.
'I did not know you were come home.'

'I came yesterday; and what company do you think I had in the train as
far as Estminster?'

'Ah, I can guess! How does Louisa look?'

'Rather languid; but Estminster is to work wonders. She declares that
Northwold is her best cure, and I am speculating whether she will
prevail. I think Lady Conway dreads your example.'

'Mamma does not allow for the force of imagination,' said Isabel, not
exactly knowing what prompted either the words or the sigh.

'I am come to ask if you will ki