nning has disappeared.

I am sorry for her, as she is deeply anxious, also, about this
question of the Yeomanry going to the war.

Augustus is still her idol.

Perhaps I am wicked to be so indifferent to them all. Perhaps it is
not enough just to submit and to have gentle manners. I ought to
display interest; but I cannot--oh, I cannot.

It is the very small things that jar upon me--their sordid views upon
no matter what question--the importance they attach to trifles.

Sometimes in the afternoons, after tea, Amelia reads the _Family
Herald_ to Mrs. Gurrage.

"A comfort it was to me in my young days, my dear," she often tells
me.

The delinquencies of the house-maids are discussed at dinner, the
smallest piece of gossip in Tilchester society.

I cannot, try as I will, remember the people's different names, or
whom Miss Jones is engaged to, or whom Miss Brown. Quantities of these
people come out to tea, and those afternoons are difficult to bear. I
feel very tired when evening comes, after having had to sit there and
hear them talk. Their very phraseology is as of a different world.

Augustus has not been drunk since the night at Harley, but often I
think his eyes look as if he had had too much to drink, and it is on
these occasions he is rude to me.

I believe in his heart he is very fond of me still, but his habit of
bullying and blustering often conceals it.

He continually accuses me of being a cold statue, and regrets that
he has married a lump of ice. And when I ask him in what way I could
please him better, he says I must love him.

"I told you before we were married that I never should, but I would
be civil to you," I said to him at last, exasperated beyond all
endurance. "You agreed to the bargain, and I do my best to keep it.
I never disobey you or cross you in a single thing. What have you to
complain of?"

"Everything!" he said, in a fury, thumping the table so hard that
a little Dresden-china figure fell down and broke into pieces on
the parquet floor. "Everything! Your great eyes are always sad. You
never take the least interest in anything about any of us. You are
docile--yes; and obedient--yes; and when I hold you in my arms I might
be holding a stuffed doll for all the response you make. And when I
kiss you, you shudder!"

He walked up and down the room excitedly.

"Oh, we have all noticed it!" he continued. "You are polite, and
quiet, and--and--damned cold! Does Amelia ever let herse