uch
safer and easier to conform oneself to its terrestrial standard. And the
amusing part of it was that these new opinions which seemed to him a
falling away, to others meant precisely the reverse. They thought it
purer and more ethereal that a man should marry because a woman would be
a housekeeper of good character than because the divine instincts of
Nature irresistibly propelled him.

James shrugged his shoulders, and turned to look at Mary, who was coming
towards him with letters in her hand.

"Three letters for you, Jamie!"

"Whom are they from?"

"Look." She handed him one.

"That's a bill, I bet," he said. "Open it and see."

She opened and read out an account for boots.

"Throw it away."

Mary opened her eyes.

"It must be paid, Jamie."

"Of course it must; but not for a long time yet. Let him send it in a
few times more. Now the next one."

He looked at the envelope, and did not recognise the handwriting.

"You can open that, too."

It was from the Larchers, repeating their invitation to go and see them.

"I wonder if they're still worrying about the death of their boy?"

"Oh, well, it's six months ago, isn't it?" replied Mary.

"I suppose in that time one gets over most griefs. I must go over some
day. Now the third."

He reddened slightly, recognising again the handwriting of Mrs. Wallace.
But this time it affected him very little; he was too weak to care, and
he felt almost indifferent.

"Shall I open it?" said Mary.

James hesitated.

"No," he said; "tear it up." And then in reply to her astonishment, he
added, smiling: "It's all right, I'm not off my head. Tear it up, and
don't ask questions, there's a dear!"

"Of course, I'll tear it up if you want me to," said Mary, looking
rather perplexed.

"Now, go to the hedge and throw the pieces in the field."

She did so, and sat down again.

"Shall I read to you?"

"No, I'm sick of the 'Antiquary.' Why the goodness they can't talk
English like rational human beings, Heaven only knows!"

"Well, we must finish it now we've begun."

"D'you think something dreadful will happen to us if we don't?"

"If one begins a book I think one should finish it, however dull it is.
One is sure to get some good out of it."

"My dear, you're a perfect monster of conscientiousness."

"Well, if you don't want me to read, I shall go on with my knitting."

"I don't want you to knit either. I want you to talk to me."

Mary looked almost charmi