ometimes, none of us could endure to look upon sufferings which never
drew a complaint or a moan from him.

Almost every pleasure has been discussed and dissected, but we know
comparatively nothing of the physiology of pain. There is no standard by
which to measure it, even if the courage and endurance of any mortal man
could enable him to analyze his own tortures philosophically. Was it not
always supposed that the guillotine is merciful, because quick in
annihilation? Look at Wiertz's pictures at Brussels. If his idea (shared
too, now, by many clever surgeons) be true, you will see the amount of a
long life's suffering exceeded by what seems to us a minute's agony. But
it is like the Eastern king's gaining the experience of fifty years by
dipping his head for a second in the magic water. For a soul in torment
there is no horologe.

Of one thing be sure; the strong temperaments who enjoy greatly, suffer
greatly too--those who endure in silence, most of all. I think the
wolf's death-pang is sharper than the hare's.

But Guy was not only patient, he was actually more cheerful than I had
seen him since Constance died. He liked to see his old friends, and to
hear accounts of their sport with hound and gun. To do these justice,
there was not one who would not give up, gladly, the best meet of the
Pytchley, or the shooting of the best cover in the county, to sit for
half a day in that sick-room. He talked, too, always pleasantly and
kindly to his mother and his cousin.

Poor Isabel Forrester was quite broken down by this second blow. Next to
her dead husband, I believe, she loved Guy better than any one; not
unnaturally, for he had petted and protected her all her life long. She
could not help giving way, though she tried hard, for the sake of
others. It was piteous to see her, sitting alone for hours, gazing out
on the bleak winter landscape, while the tears welled slowly from under
her heavy eyelids.

Foster, who was still at Kerton, came often to visit Livingstone. No
one could do him so much good. The curate was just as confident and
uncompromising in the discharge of his office as he was yielding and
diffident when only himself was in question. He was so honest, and
straightforward, and true--so free from rant or cant--so strong in his
simple theology, that Guy soon trusted him implicitly when he spoke of
the past and of the future that was so near. The repentance that was
begun by Constance's dying bed was complet