physical graces which had made him a fine figure behind his bar.
But even with the softening of her feelings towards him since she
had thus set herself up in his defence, Deborah could not fail to
perceive under all these surface attractions an expression of
unreliability, or, as some would say, of actual cruelty. Ruddy-
haired and fair of skin, he should have had an optimistic
temperament; but, on the contrary, he was of a gloomy nature, and
only infrequently social. No company was better for his being in
it. Never had she seen any man sit out the evening with him
without effort. Yet the house had prospered. How often had she
said to herself, in noting these facts: "Yet the house prospers!"
There was always money in the till even when the patronage was
small. Their difficulties were never financial ones. She was still
living on the proceeds of what they had laid by in those old days.

Her mind continued to plunge back. He had had no business worries;
yet his temper was always uncertain. She had not often suffered
from it herself, for her ascendency over men extended even to him.
But Reuther had shrunk before it more than once--the gentle
Reuther, who was the refined, the etherealised picture of himself.
And he had loved the child as well as he could love anybody. Great
gusts of fondness would come over him at times, and then he would
pet and cajole the child almost beyond a parent's prerogative. But
he was capable of striking her too--had struck her frequently. And
for nothing--an innocent look; a shrinking movement; a smile when
he wasn't in the mood for smiles. It was for this Deborah had
hated him; and it was for this the mother in her now held him
responsible for the doubts which had shadowed their final parting.
Was not the man, who could bring his hand down upon so frail and
exquisite a creature as Reuther was in those days, capable of any