Catharine knew nothing of what had passed between husband and wife--one scene amongst many--and consequently could not understand the peculiar earnestness, somewhat unusual with her, with which Mrs. Cardew dwelt upon this subject. We lead our lives apart in close company, with private hopes and fears unknown to anybody but ourselves, and when we go abroad we often appear inexplicable and absurd, simply because our friends have not the proper key. "Do you think, Catharine--you know that, though I am older than you and married, I feel we are friends." Here Mrs. Cardew took Catharine's hand in hers. "Do you think I could learn how to talk? What I mean is, could I be taught how to say what is appropriate? I _do_ feel something when Mr. Cardew reads Milton to me. It is only the words I want--words such as you have." "Oh, Mrs. Cardew!"--Catharine came closer to her, and Mrs. Cardew's arm crept round her waist--"I tell you again I have not so many words as you suppose. I believe, though, that if people take pains they can find them." "Couldn't you help me?" "I? Oh, no! Mr. Cardew could. I never heard anybody express himself as he does." "Mr. Cardew is a minister, and perhaps I should find it easier with you. Suppose I bring the 'Paradise Lost' out into the garden when we next meet, and I will read, and you shall help me to comment on it." Catharine's heart went out towards her, and it was agreed that "Paradise Lost" should be brought, and that Mrs. Cardew would endeavour to make herself "articulate" thereon. The party broke up, and Catharine's reflections were not of the simplest order. Rather let us say her emotions, for her heart was busier than her head. Mrs. Cardew had deeply touched her. She never could stand unmoved the eyes of her dog when the poor beast came and laid her nose on her lap and looked up at her, and nobody could have persuaded her of the truth of Mr. Cardew's doctrine that the reason why a dog can only bark is that his thoughts are nothing but barks. Mrs. Cardew's appeal, therefore, was of a kind to stir her sympathy; but--had she not heard that Mr. Cardew had observed and praised her? It was nothing--ridiculously nothing; it was his duty to praise and blame the pupils at the Limes; he had complimented Miss Toogood on her Bible history the other day, and on her satisfactory account of the scheme of redemption. He had done it publicly, and he had pointed out the failings of the other pupils, she, Catharine herself, being included. He had reminded her that she had not taken into account the one vital point, that as we are the Almighty Maker's creatures, His absolutely, we have no ground of complaint against Him in whatever way He may be pleased to make us. Nevertheless, just those two or three words Mrs. Cardew reported were like yeast, and her whole brain was in a ferment.