exacting of others to do the same. I went away cold and stiff this afternoon
because she wasn't silly and sentimental when I was. I'm to her an
unpolished, homely, middle-aged man, and yet I sort of scoffed at the
self-sacrifice which has led her to be pleasant and companionable in every way
that her feelings allowed. I wish I were younger and better looking, so it
wouldn't all be a sense of duty and gratitude. Gratitude be hanged! I don't
want any more of it. Well, now, James Holcroft, if you're the square man you
supposed yourself to be, you'll be just as kind and considerate as you know
how, and then you'll leave Alida to the quiet, peaceful life to which she
looked forward when she married you. The thing for you to do is to go back to
your first ways after you were married and attend to the farm. She doesn't
want you hanging around and looking at her as if she was one of her own
posies. That's something she wasn't led to expect and it would be mean enough
to force it upon her before she shows that she wishes it, and I couldn't
complain if she NEVER wished it."

During the first hour after Holcroft's departure Alida had been perplexed and
worried, but her intuitions soon led to hopefulness, and the beauty and peace
of nature without aided in restoring her serenity. The more minutely she
dwelt on Holcroft's words and manner, the more true it seemed that he was
learning to take an interest in her that was personal and apart from every
other consideration. "If I am gentle, patient, and faithful," she thought,
"all will come out right. He is so true and straightforward that I need have
no fears."

When he returned and greeted her with what seemed his old, friendly, natural
manner, and, during a temporary absence of Jane, told her laughingly of the
Mumpson episode, she was almost completely reassured. "Suppose the widow
breaks through all restraint and appears as did Jane, what would you do?" he
asked.