You do not love your husband, you have married him for a position —to escape from—things which you feared. She caught at the idea. Wood the best of wives. She confided in me yesterday. Not like my father. “I want a vote for myself,” she said. “They’d better not,” said Hetty. Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. The name of this damsel was Edgeworth Bess; and, as her fascinations will not, perhaps, be found to be without some influence upon the future fortunes of her boyish admirer, we have thought it worth while to be thus particular in describing them. They heard voices inside but stood for a full thirty seconds looking at each other. She yielded it without protest, as though unconsciously. Before he could return, Jack had made good his retreat; and, wandering about the lanes and hedges, kept out of sight as much as possible. But they cut it all off. ‘That is good.
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