e terrible," she answered. "But do you think there are
any so unfortunate?"

"Yes, there are some," he returned; "I hope indeed not many."

"And can nothing be done for them?"

"I don't know. I am afraid not."

"Oh, I think you should not say that," she continued, warmly; "their
friends should not despair. It would be like saving a soul from
death!"

"Thank you," he said. "Good-night!" He offered his hand, and she gave
him hers frankly.

He came away softened and humbled; the night was not so hard and cold
now. All that was compassionate and unselfish in him was re-enforced,
and the view of his better nature confirmed. His feeling toward Cora
was only gentle and pitiful.

But there was a difference between them thenceforth that he could not
equalize. He saw that the novelty and excitation of her altered
position were going from her and that the quiet of the early winter
was growing irksome. She said nothing, but he got the feeling of
having a child in the house whose playthings were worn out and whom he
felt bound to entertain. It unsettled and fretted him. He was
necessarily at the Marlakes' a great deal for some time, and his
admiration for Stella grew with the sight of her unwearied and skilful
care of the little ones; through the most trying scenes she was
steadfast, though deeply concerned; she executed his directions
with exactness. She was never taken at a disadvantage; under all
circumstances she was the same simple, friendly, self-respectful,
admirable person. He was always the better for seeing her; however
confused and wrong-sided the world might seem, at sight or sound of
her all things fell into order and marched to unheard music. He did
not disguise from himself that he went to see the Marlake children
oftener than he would have gone to others; he knew he was glad to go
there and knew the reason. He asked himself why he should not. He did
not know how he should get on without this resource. His wife soon
wore out his better feelings; sometimes he was in a rage with her,
sometimes affected with a great melancholy; she could not rest at home
unless there were people there; she wanted to be at all meetings,
fairs, parties, lectures, concerts. She would talk with most people
glibly enough, catching the cue of each with wonderful adroitness and
echoing each after his kind. Most people thought her charming when she
cared to charm; to be confirmed in one's opinions by such pretty,
vivacious eyes and lip