which had so long run decorously in Puritan
channels, leaped at its return into new gayety. Years ago Margaret had
thought that she might some time be a missionary, at least that she
should like to devote her life to useful labors among the poor and the
unfortunate. If conscience ever reminded her of this, conscience was
quieted by the suggestion that now she was in a position to be more
liberal than she ever expected to be; that is, to give everything except
the essential thing--herself. Henderson liked a gay house, brightness,
dinners, entertainment, and that his wife should be seen and admired.
Proof of his love she found in all this, and she entered into it with
spirit, and an enjoyment increased by the thought that she was lightening
the burden of his business, which she could see pressed more and more.
Not that Henderson made any account of his growing occupations, or that
any preoccupation was visible except to the eye of love, which is quick
to see all moods. These were indeed happy days, full of the brightness of
an expanding prosperity and unlimited possibilities of the enjoyment of
life. It was in obedience to her natural instinct, and not yet a feeling
of compensation and propitiation, that enlisted Margaret in the city
charities, connection with which was a fashionable self-entertainment
with some, and a means of social promotion with others. My wife came home
a little weary with so much of the world, but, on the whole, impressed
with Margaret's good-fortune. Henderson in his own house was the soul of
consideration and hospitality, and Margaret was blooming in the beauty
that shines in satisfied desire.

XIII

It is so painful to shrink, and so delightful to grow! Every one knows
the renovation of feeling--often mistaken for a moral renewal--when the
worn dress of the day is exchanged for the fresh evening toilet. The
expansiveness of prosperity has a like effect, though the moralist is
always piping about the beneficent uses of adversity. The moralist is, of
course, right, time enough given; but what does the tree, putting out its
tender green leaves to the wooing of the south wind, care for the
moralist? How charming the world is when you go with it, and not against
it!

It was better than Margaret had thought. When she came to Washington in
the winter season the beautiful city seemed to welcome her and respond to
the gayety of her spirit. It was so open, cheerful, hospitable, in the
appearance