t least. Lucy was so little and gentle and fair, that she
appeared to her husband even younger than she was; and she was a great
deal younger than himself. He thought her a sort of child-wife, whom a
little scolding or a kiss would altogether sway. The kiss had been
quite enough hitherto. Perhaps, since Jock had come upon the scene, a
few words of admonition might prove now and then necessary, but it would
be cruel to be hard upon her, or do more than let her see what his
pleasure was.

But Lucy was not what Sir Tom thought. She could not endure that there
should be any shadow between her husband and herself, but her mind was
not satisfied with this way of settling an important question. She took
his kiss and his apology gratefully, but if anything had been wanted to
impress more deeply upon her mind the sense of a duty before her, of
which her husband did not approve, and in doing which she could not have
his help, it would have been this little episode altogether. Even little
Tom did not efface the impression from her mind. At dinner she met her
husband with her usual smile, and even assented when he remarked upon
the pleasantness of finding themselves again alone together. There had
been other guests besides Jock, so that the remark did not offend her;
but yet Lucy was not quite like herself. She felt it vaguely, and he
felt it vaguely, and neither was entirely aware what it was.

In the morning, at breakfast, Sir Tom received a foreign letter, which
made him start a little. He started and cried, "Hollo!" then, opening
it, and finding two or three closely-scribbled sheets, gave way to a
laugh. "Here's literature!" he said. Lucy, who had no jealousy of his
correspondents, read her own calm little letters, and poured out the
tea, with no particular notice of her husband's interjections. It did
not even move her curiosity that the letter was in a feminine hand, and
gave forth a faint perfume. She reminded him that his tea was getting
cold, but otherwise took no notice. One of her own letters was from the
Dowager Lady Randolph, full of advice about the baby. "Mrs. Russell
tells me that Katie's children are the most lovely babies that ever were
seen; but she is very fantastic about them; will not let them wear shoes
to spoil their feet, and other vagaries of that kind. I hope, my dear
Lucy, that you are not fanciful about little Tom," Lady Randolph wrote.
Lucy read this very composedly, and smiled at the suggestion. Fanci