at little was left of his father's
money he took with him to the mountains, but she realized why he went
without waiting for his degree, and sadly approved his resolution. She
always kept the growing attachment between her and Herbert from grating
on Phil as much as was in her power, but he could not help seeing it.
Though he never said anything even to me, it was plain that he had a
poor opinion of the young journalist; and Grace was very thankful to him
for all he did and suffered.

"She must have felt very much alone in the world after Phil left, and
the house certainly seemed empty and sad when I used to go there to see
her. There was no one but Grace and the housekeeper and an old
gentleman, a clerk in one of the State departments, to whom she had
rented rooms, partly for the money and partly to have a man in the
house. Herbert was with her whenever his work would permit, and there
was some talk about their intimacy among people who, even if they had
known her, were too base to have appreciated the fineness and truth and
purity of Grace's nature.

"I couldn't blame her for marrying Herbert,--which she did the fall
after I graduated. They certainly were very much in love, and Herbert
had borne himself creditably in every way. No one could have foreseen
that he would turn out so badly; and for a year or more after their
marriage they were as happy as birds in May. Grace was never
light-hearted, as when I first knew her,--no woman of worth and
tenderness would have been,--but still she was happily and sweetly
contented, completely bound up in her husband, thinking almost of
nothing but him, and caring for nothing but his love.

"When I came back from the law-school, I went to see them as soon as I
was settled. They had sold the house, and were living in a rented
cottage out in East Lincoln. Nannie, their baby, was quite if not more
than a year old then; and, though I had known that Grace would be a fond
mother, I was unprepared to see the way in which she seemed absolutely
to worship the child. I immediately asked myself if it meant that she
was not so happy with Herbert as she had been. I met him at tea, to
which Grace insisted on my staying. His dress was as neat and as
carefully arranged as ever, and he was cordial enough toward me; but he
did not kiss Grace when he came in, and hardly looked at the baby. He
laughed a good deal, and told several amusing incidents of his newspaper
experience. I noticed that his o