for it was seldom
any unmixed romance about "love and nonsense," which moved _her_ to the
sacrifice: if she entertained notions of that sort, they were such only
as could find a place in her well-balanced mind, and, above all, were
the subject of no raptures or transports of delight. If she indulged any
enthusiasm, in view of the approaching change, it was in the prospect of
endless shirt-making, and in calculations about how cheaply (not how
happily) she could enable her husband to live. She had no squeamish
delicacy about allowing the world to know the scope and meaning of her
arrangements, and all her friends participated in her visions of comfort
and economy. False modesty was no part of her nature--and her sentiment
could be reduced to an algebraic formula--excluding the "unknown
quantities" usually represented by the letters _b_, _c_, and _d_:
meaning "bliss," "cottages," and "devotion."

Yet, though she cared little for poetry, and seldom understood the
images of fancy, she was not averse to a modicum of scandal in moments
of relaxation: for the faults of others were the illustrations of her
prudent maxims, and the thoughtlessness of a sister was the best
possible text for a moral homily. The tense rigidity of her character,
too, sometimes required a little unbending, and she had, therefore, no
special aversion to an occasional surreptitious novel. But this she
would indulge only in private; for in her mind, the worst quality of
transgression was its bad example; and she never failed, in public, to
condemn all such things with becoming and virtuous severity. Nor must
this apparent inconsistency be construed to her disadvantage; for her
strong mind and well-fortified morals, could withstand safely what would
have corrupted a large majority of those around her; and it was meet,
that one whose "mission" it was to reform, should thoroughly understand
the enemy against which she battled. And these things never unfavorably
affected her life and manners, for she was as prudent in her deportment
(ill-natured people say _prudish_) as if some ancestress of hers had
been deceived, and left in the family a tradition of man's perfidy and
woman's frailty.

She was careful, then, of three things--her clothes, her money, and her
reputation: and, to do her justice, the last was as spotless as the
first, and as much prized as the second, and that is saying a good deal,
both for its purity and estimation. Neat, economical, and pru