ss; she smiled frankly over his
succinct stories, which, as has already been mentioned, were invariably
good--Aunt Katrina generally managing to comprehend them by about the
next day; in addition she directed the complicated household so that no
jars made themselves felt; and during all this time, these long two
years, no one had heard a syllable from her lips that was sharp in
sound; nay, more, that was not sweet.

There are women who are capable of sacrificing themselves, with the
noblest unselfishness in great causes, who yet, as regards the small
matters of every-day life, are rather uncomfortable to live with; so
much so, indeed, that those who are under the same roof with them are
driven to reflect now and then upon the merits of the ancient hermitages
and caves to which in former ages such characters were accustomed to
retire. These being out of fashion, however, the relatives can only wish
(with a certain desperation of fancy) that their dear self-sacrificing
companions might imbibe from somewhere, anywhere, such a dose of
selfishness as should render their own lives more comfortable; and, as
a sequence, that of the household, as well.

The Doctor had had these saints as his patients more than once, he knew
them perfectly. But here was a woman who had sacrificed her whole life
to duty, who felt constantly the dreary ache of deprivation; but who yet
did not think in the least, apparently, that these things freed her from
the kindly efforts, the patience, the small sweet friendly attempts
which made home comfortable.

The Doctor had been witness to all this, as he had been witness also
that day in the orange grove, when Evert Winthrop lifted this same woman
in his arms, where she lay speechless, tortured by the pain of parting
with him.

Her pain was the same now--he knew that; but she had learned to bear it.
Unspeakably he honored her.

And now this woman had come to see Garda in her trouble, Garda who was
so infinitely dear to him, though in another way. He felt, as he stood
there with his hand upon the door-knob, that he must for once--for
once--acknowledge the difference between these two natures; he could not
be content with himself without it. "I know you will be very good to
her," he said--"our poor Garda, our dear little girl; she is suffering
greatly, and we must tide her over it as well as we can. Yes, tide her
over it; for you and I know, Mrs. Harold, that deep as her sorrow
is--undoubtedly is, po