ted-on
third generation; but he was uncertain. He himself was so impressed with
the patient woman he had formed out of the lively girl, so tortured by a
conviction that he had gagged and fettered her--that her limbs were
cramped and benumbed, her atmosphere oppressive, her life
self-denying--that he could bear it no longer.

"God forgive me, Leslie, for the wrong I have done you!" he confessed
one night with a haggard, remorseful face, when she stood, constrained
and pensive, on his joyless hearth.

She looked up quickly, and laughed a dry laugh. "You are dreaming," she
replied. "How much larger Otter is than the Glasgow house! it was a mere
cupboard in comparison. How much pleasanter the fields and hills and
sands than the grimy, noisy streets where my head ached and my eyes were
weary. And little Leslie is a thousand times dearer than my own people,
or any companions that I ever possessed. Hush! hush! I hear her cry;
don't detain me, unless for anything I can do for you--because nothing
keeps me from Leslie."

The coals of fire were heaped upon his head: there could be no
reparation.

Why was Hector Garret not resigned? It was a cruel mistake, but it might
have been worse, for hearts are deceitful, and what is false and baneful
is apt to prove an edge-tool. Here was permanent estrangement,
comfortless formality, cold, compulsory esteem; but there was no
treachery in the household, no malignant hate, no base revenge.

But Hector Garret would not rest: he had far less or far more energy
than his wife; he walked his lands a moody, harassed man. The turmoil
and distraction of his youth seemed recalled; he lost his equanimity;
his regular habits faded from him. Leslie could no longer count on his
prolonged absence, his short stated visits; he would be with her at any
time within doors or without--to exchange a word or look, and go as he
came, to return as unaccountably and inconsistently. It vexed Leslie;
she tried not to see it; it made her curious, anxious; and what had she
to do with Hector Garret's flushed cheek and shining eye? Some
anniversary, some combination of present associations and past
recollections--a tendency to fly from himself, besetting at times the
most self-controlled--might have caused this change in his appearance.
Ah! better twist and untwist the rings of little Leslie's fair hair, and
dress and undress her as she had done her doll; better examine the shell
cracked by the yellow-hammer, and co