ends of ours, lest, doing so, we
tempt God once too often?

Your father quoted that text to John Briggs, here, many years ago. Might
he not quote it now to you? True, not one word of murmuring, not even of
regret, or fear, has passed his good old lips about your self-willed
plan. He has such utter confidence in you, such utter carelessness about
himself, such utter faith in God, that he can let you go without a sigh.
But will you make his courage an excuse for your own rashness? Again,
beware; after pride may come a fall.

* * * * *

On the fourth day Elsley was buried. Mark and Tom were the only
mourners; Lucy and Valencia stayed at Mark's house, to return next day
under Tom's care to Eaton Square.

The two mourners walked back sadly from the churchyard. "I shall put a
stone over him, Tom. He ought to rest quietly now; for he had little
rest enough in this life....

"Now, I want to talk to you about something; when I've taken off my
hatband, that is; for it would be hardly lucky to mention such matters
with a hatband on."

Tom looked up, wondering.

"Tell me about his wife, meanwhile. What made him marry her? Was she a
pretty woman?"

"Pretty enough, I believe, before she married: but I hardly think he
married her for her face."

"Of course not!" said the old man with emphasis; "of course not!
Whatever faults he had, he'd be too sensible for that. Don't you marry
for a face, Tom! I didn't."

Tom opened his eyes at this last assertion; but humbly expressed his
intention of not falling into that snare.

"Ah? you don't believe me: well, she was a beautiful woman.--I'd like to
see her fellow now in the county!--and I won't deny I was proud of her.
But she had ten thousand pounds, Tom. And as for her looks, why, if
you'll believe me, after we'd been married three months, I didn't know
whether she had any looks or not. What are you smiling at, you young
rogue?"

"Report did say that one look of Mrs. Armsworth's, to the last, would do
more to manage Mr. Armsworth than the opinions of the whole bench of
bishops."

"Report's a liar, and you're a puppy! You don't know yet whether it was
a pleasant look, or a cross one, lad. But still--well, she was an angel,
and kept old Mark straighter than he's ever been since: not that he's so
very bad, now. Though I sometimes think Mary's better even than her
mother. That girl's a good girl, Tom."

"Report agrees with you in that, at least.