e a Rag-weed."

Yet such a leveller of emotions and an adjuster of disparate
dispositions is Time that when they rounded their fourth year, Martin
viewed his life, with a few reservations, as fairly satisfactory. He
turned the matter over judicially in his mind and concluded that even
though he cared not a jot for Rose, at least he could think of no other
woman who could carry a larger share of the drudgery in their dusty
lives, help save more and, on the whole, bother him less. He, like his
rag-weed, had settled down to an apathetic jog.

Rose was convinced that Martin would make too unkind a father; he had no
wish for another taste of the general confusion and disorganized routine
her confinement had entailed. Besides, it would be inconvenient if she
were to die, as Dr. Bradley quite solemnly had warned him she might only
too probably. Without any exchange of words, it was settled there should
not be another child--settled, he dismissed it. In a way, he had come
to appreciate Rose, but it was absurd to compliment anyone, let alone
a wife whom he saw constantly. Physically, she did not interest him; in
fact, the whole business bored him. It was tiresome and got one nowhere.
He decided this state of mind must be rather general among married
people, and reasoned his way to the conclusion that marriage was a good
thing in that it drove out passion and placed human animals on a more
practicable foundation. If there had been the likelihood of children, he
undoubtedly would have sought her from time to time, but with that hope
out of their lives the attraction died completely.

When he was through with his work, it was late and he was sleepy. When
he woke early in the morning, he had to hurry to his stock. So that
which always had been less than secondary, now became completely
quiescent, and he was satisfied that it should. It never occurred to him
to consider what Rose might be thinking and feeling. She wondered about
it, and would have liked to ask advice from someone--the older Mrs.
Mall or Dr. Bradley--but habitual reserve held her back. After all, she
decided finally, what did it matter? Meanwhile, financially, things were
going better than ever.

Martin had the most improved farm in the neighborhood; he was looked up
to by everyone as one of the most intelligent men in the county, and
his earnings were swelling, going into better stock and the surplus into
mortgages which he accumulated with surprising rapidity. Oc