g that makes the backbone
of a three-volume novel, is but a phase or an incident; everything is
but an incident with all of us, a heart-break to-day, a recollection
to-morrow, a source of encouragement and of inspiration eventually
perhaps; the which, if some would remember, there would be less
despair and fewer suicides. The recognition of this fact had helped
Beth's sense of proportion and was making her philosophical. She
believed that life could be lived so as to make the joys as inevitable
as the sorrows. We are apt to cultivate our sense of pleasure less
than our sense of suffering, by appreciating small pleasures little,
while heeding small pains excessively. Beth's deliberate intention, as
well as her natural impulse, was to reverse this in her own case as
much as possible; she would not let her physical sense of well-being
on a fine morning and her intellectual delight in a good mood for work
be spoilt because of some trouble of the night before. The trouble she
would set aside so that it might not detract from the pleasure.

But fine mornings and good moods for work had not come to her aid
since she discovered the mean treachery of Dan and Bertha, and when
she left Slane she was still oppressed by the sense of their hypocrisy
and deceit. As the train bore her swiftly away from them both,
however, her spirits rose. The sun shone, the country looked lovely in
its autumn bravery of tint and tone; she felt well, and the
contemplation of such people as Dan and Bertha was not elevating; they
must out of her mind like any other unholy thought, that she might be
worthy to associate with the loyal ladies and noble gentlemen whose
hands were outheld to help her. The people we cling to are those with
whom we find ourselves most at home. It is not the people who amuse us
that we like best, but those who stir our deeper emotions, rouse in us
possibilities of generous feeling which lie latent for the most part,
and give form to our higher aspirations; and Beth anticipated with a
happy heart that it was with such she was bound to abide.

Mrs. Kilroy met her at the station at Morningquest. "What a bonny
thing you are!" she exclaimed in her queer abrupt way. "I didn't
realise it till I saw you walking up the platform towards me. There's
a cart to take your luggage to Ilverthorpe. Do you mind coming to
lunch with Mrs. Orton Beg? She has a dear little house in the Close,
and we thought you might like to see the Cathedral. Here'