irritation, and pain.

A thunder-storm sometimes clears the air; and the passion of resistance
into which Christian had been goaded apparently cooled the family
atmosphere for a few days. But she herself felt only a dead-weight--a
heavy chill--which lay on her heart long after the storm was spent.

For the "gentleman" and his rude remark--if indeed he had made it,
which she more than doubted, aware how Miss Gascoigne, like all
people who can only see things from the stand-point of their own
individuality, was somewhat given to exaggeration--Christian heeded
him not. The world might talk as it chose; she knew her husband loved
her, and that he had married her for love.

And her boy loved her too, and needed her sorely, as he would need for
many a long day yet. It would take a whole year, Dr. Anstruther said,
before the injury to the lung was quite recovered, and all fear of
Arthur's falling into continued ill health removed.

Thus duties, sweet as strong, kept continually weaving themselves
about her once forlorn life; binding her fast, it is true, but in such
pleasant bonds that she never wished them broken. Every day she grew
safer and happier and every day, as she looked on Dr. Grey's kind, good
face, which familiarity was making almost beautiful, she felt thankful
that--whether she loved it or only liked it--she should have it beside her
all her days.

Chapter 7.

_"And do the hours slip fast or slow,
And are ye sad or gay?
And is your heart with your liege lord, lady,
Or is it far away?_

_"The lady raised her calm, proud head,
Though her tears fell one by one:
'Life counts not hours by joys or pangs,
But just by duties done._

_"And when I lie in the green kirk-yard,
With the mould upon my breast,
Say not that "She did well or ill,"
Only, "She did her best."'"_

A day or two after this, Christian, returning from her daily walk, which
was now brief enough, and never beyond the college precinct

Christian's Mistake

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