In their own parlor Robert was more enthusiastic than Theodora had seen him for a long time. "You have often gone to my heart, Dora," he said, "but this morning you touched my soul." And they were very happy together. This was the man Theodora loved. This was the man to whom she had given her heart and hand. Oh, how was she to keep this Robert Campbell always to the fore? To do any great thing with the heart of another, you must vivisect your own, and this truth Theodora had to practise continually. Her life was one of such painful self-denial as left all its little pleasant places bare and barren; but she knew that in this way only could peace be bought, and she paid the price, excepting always, when it struck at her self-respect or violated her conscience. For she had constant opportunities of seeing that the spirit of submission carried too far was responsible for most of the misery and wrongs of the household; since despotism is never the sin of one, but comes from the servility of those around the despot. And as Robert was not always indifferent, but had frequent visitings from his better self, she made the most of these happy times, and took the envy and hatred of the rest as she took wet weather, or wind, or snow, or any other exhibition of the Higher Powers. For if training and education had made Theodora self-respectful, it had also made her avoid everything like self-indulgence. "_To her there never came the thought, That this her life was meant to be A pleasure house, where peace unbought Should minister to pride and glee._ "_Sublimely she endured each ill As a plain fact, whose right or wrong She questioned not; confiding still That it would last--not over long._ "_Willing from first to last to take The mysteries of her life as given, Leaving her time-worn soul to slake Its thirst, in an undoubted heaven._" So the weeks passed on in a kind of armed truce with short intervals of satisfying happiness, whenever Robert chose to make her happy. She still took her breakfast alone, and now and then Robert, allured by the pretty appetizing table on the cheerful hearth, drank his coffee and ate a rasher of bacon beside her. Then how gay and delighted she was, and as on such occasions he gave up his porridge and salt herring, McNab, in order to pleasure the mistress whom she loved, always found him some dainty to atone for his deprivation. And the meal was so good and cheerful, that it was a wonderful thing he did not join his wife constantly.