“Well! when one has plenty to live on, what does it matter? It will always be delightful. We shall take walks. Don’t you remember the common, how beautiful it was? And now and then we will go to London; and in the evening we can--you can read out loud to me,” said Nancy, stopping, with a little confusion. “We can go and see mother,” was what she was about to say; but she stopped instinctively, and kept that in the background. She was standing by his chair, putting her fingers through his hair, arranging and re-arranging it with soft touches, each one of which was a caress. It was seldom that she was in this tender mood, and he felt himself melting under it. Sometimes she would stoop down and put her cheek against his. “You would teach me all sorts of things,” said Nancy. “Sometimes I know I am not good-tempered, Arthur. I give you a great deal of trouble. It makes me wild to think that I am not like you, that I don’t do you credit; and then my temper gets the better of me, and I say I am as good as they are, why should I trouble?” As she made this confession, tears came trembling into Nancy’s eyes and stole into her voice. She had never before revealed to her husband the state of mind which made her so capricious, and as she told it, all those vagaries of temper which had tormented Arthur, became sacred things to him, and beautiful in the light of love and penitence. He took into his arms this tender culprit, whose avowal made all her faults into virtues. “Don’t, my darling!” he cried; “don’t! Not like me? You are far better than I am. Not do me credit? Nancy! don’t you know I am as proud of you as I am fond of you--and can anything be more than that? Teach you! What could I teach you? It is you who teach me.” And he meant what he said, and she meant it, to the bottom of their foolish young hearts, and it was all true and all false, as only human things can be. Nancy, though her heart was melting and running over with the tenderness of her confession, was as ready to be defiant as ever at half a moment’s notice, and Arthur as sure soon to be doubtful of her, alarmed and anxious, uncertain as to what she might do or say. But neither of them was at all aware of this as they clung together and mutually repented, and declared that never again, never again should anything disturb their harmony and full understanding of each other. “There are so many things you could teach me,” Nancy said, smiling through her tears, “in our own little house at home! You could make a lady of me. Oh, yes, we all thought you had done that when we were married, but now I know better. But you can make a lady of me, Arthur, if you will try.” “You are a lady already, my darling,” he said; but how sweet was this consciousness of what was wanting in herself, and the confidence that he could communicate all she wanted! It was like an inspiration direct from Heaven.