So the slow hidden current of his feelings began to bore for itself a new channel--a way round the rock of principle that barred direct advance. Another change there was in him. A woman--his wife--had gibbeted him as a man impossible to live with. He was secretly, almost unconsciously, afraid of the world's agreeing with her. Seeking sympathy, he tried to manifest it; afraid of being misunderstood, he embarked on an effort to be understanding. He made a fair success of it. People said that he was human after all, and that Mrs. Maxon ought to have seen it. The work which Winnie had done redounded to her discredit; it is not an uncommon case. The rebels are shot, flogged, or have to fly the kingdom. But reforms are introduced into the administration, and these make the rebels seem more guilty still--because, of course, the reforms were just going to be introduced anyhow, if only the rebels would have had a little faith, a little patience. Who has not read it a score of times in the newspapers? "That little wife of his can't have known how to manage a man," said old Mrs. Ladd, who had owned two husbands, the first an over-festive soul, the second a hypochondriac. "The Vicar has the highest opinion of him," remarked Miss Fortescue. Mrs. Ladd smiled. "He won't have such a high opinion of him if he goes gadding after Rosaline Deering." Miss Fortescue was shocked and interested. "My dear, is there any chance of that?" Mrs. Ladd pursed up her lips. "I don't see much harm in it myself," she said. "Oh, Mrs. Ladd! If the Vicar heard you!" "If you may marry again when your husband's dead----" "It's allowed, but it's--it's not exactly recommended, is it?" "Well, on the Vicar's theory, I don't see in the end any difference between the two cases--or, at any rate, not much." Mrs. Ladd destroyed her logic by a concession to her friend's pained surprise. She ought to have stuck to there being no difference at all. Then on Attlebury's theory she had an argument; 'not much' came perilously near to cutting the roots of it.