Most people would have thought that the apology might have been made before, or might be left alone now; but this conditional tense in which her friends put the case was met by Mrs. Wymans with plausible reasons. Certainly she had always thought of going--but till now--did any one know that Mrs. Dorriman was anything more than a visitor? Had she known that she was really to be resident.... Why of course it would be very rude not to call. Mrs. Dorriman was not at all inclined to despise the proffered olive-branch. She had no distaste for acquaintances, and was so evidently glad to see that people intended to be kind to her, that the infection spread. From being liked she became extremely popular; a person never sure enough of her facts to contradict anybody is always approved of; and after being spoken of as poor Mrs. Dorriman for many months she was now talked of as dear Mrs. Dorriman, being one of those women who, for some inexplicable reason, is never mentioned without an adjective. The visits were made and returned--the only drawback being that Mr. Sandford had never yet been seen by any one--though Mrs. Wymans, who always posed as having done or seen a little more than her neighbours, avowed to having seen the back of his head upon one occasion, which, if true, certainly proved that he was capable of being in two places at once. Truth to tell, the _rapprochement_ between the brother and sister was not productive of entire satisfaction to Mr. Sandford. If Mrs. Dorriman's conscience was so sensitive that she felt like a traitor towards her brother, because of certain papers she knew of, the contents of which might _possibly_ betray something against him, his conscience, though not sensitive, had a far far heavier weight upon it, though it did not press upon him continually. It was impossible to live with a woman so meek, so gentle, and so unselfish, without learning to like her, but the liking produced much acute uneasiness; and at times his rough manner was more a mask for his uncomfortable feelings than for any other reason. He was up and out again, though he felt that he had not quite his old clearness of perception, he was more easily tired and he was always thankful to get home. That home was indeed changed to him now. The cheerfulness and serenity, the evenness of Mrs. Dorriman's temper made him look forward to going home, where his most trifling wishes were attended to, and when he had that _certainty_ of being met in the same quiet way, of having no fluctuations in manner, which gives the real home feeling. Mrs. Dorriman was not perfect, she was a woman who possessed no great gifts, and she was constitutionally timid, and not much fitted to form an opinion about subjects outside those of domestic interest; but she did understand that a man, tired and worried by affairs outside his home, required rest and refreshment in it, and she knew how to give both.