old looked
straight before her. Winthrop turned off to the right, and was soon lost
to view.

He pulled up after a while, and let his horse walk slowly along the
trail; he was thinking of Margaret Harold. He was always seeing her now,
it could not be otherwise so long as she continued to live with his
aunt. But he said to himself that he should never really like her, and
what he was thinking of at present was whether or not she had perceived
this.

She was not easy to read. Just now, for instance, when she had begun to
speak of the pine barrens, and to speak with (for her) a good deal of
warmth, had he not perhaps had something to do with her falling into
complete silence immediately afterwards? He had answered, of course; he
had done what was necessary to keep up the conversation; still, perhaps
she had seen--perhaps---- Well, he could not help it if she had, or
rather he did not care to help it. Whatever she might be besides, quiet,
well-bred, devoted to the welfare of his aunt, she was still in his
opinion so completely, so essentially wrong in some of her ideas, and
these in a woman the most important, that his feeling towards her at
heart was one of sternest disapproval; it could not be otherwise. And
she held so obstinately to her mistakes! That was the worst of her--her
obstinacy; it was so tranquil. It was founded, of course, upon her
immovable self-esteem--a very usual foundation for tranquillity! No
doubt Lanse had required forgiveness, and even a great deal of
forgiveness; there had, indeed, been no period of Lanse's life when he
had not made large demands on this quality from those who were nearest
him. But was it not a wife's part to forgive? Lanse could have been led
by his affections, probably, his better side; it had always been so with
Lanse. But instead of trying to influence him in that way, this wife had
set herself up in opposition to him--the very last thing he would stand.
She had probably been narrow from the beginning, narrow and punctilious.
Later she had been shocked; then had hardened in it. She was evidently a
cold woman; in addition, she was self-righteous, self-complacent; such
women were always perfectly satisfied with themselves, they had
excellent reasons for everything. Of course she had never loved her
husband; if she had loved him she could not have left him so easily,
within a few months--less than a year--after their marriage. And though
seven years had now passed since that sepa