“Happiness never seems to form part of your philosophy, Sarah.” “Wealth and power, Luke--isn’t that happiness? To wear real diamonds, and heaps of them; to drive in the parks; to be presented at court; to make other women envy you. Happiness! Talk of clear consciences and all that stuff, to set a room full of women hating you for your wealth and beauty is bliss--joy above everything!” Luke took his pipe from his mouth and gazed in astonishment at his wife, who had ceased knitting, and was looking out beyond where he sat,--but not at the quiet rural picture spread out before her. She was simply looking at her own thoughts. “Women, Luke, are devils. To men they are bad enough, but they treat each other like fiends: they are mean to an extent beyond all imagination; they hate each other mortally; and a pretty woman is a mark for all their spite and slander. But she takes it out; she has her revenge; she stings them like an adder.” “You are a strange woman, Sarah; but you say a great deal more than you believe,” said Luke. “Do I? I believe women capable of anything. But men deserve to be deceived by them, because the first of the race was a sneak and a coward. ‘The woman tempted me, and I did eat.’” Mrs. Somerton gave a contemptuous toss of her head, and went on with her knitting. “What a pity you didn’t marry some great gun who could have given you your full swing of power and wealth. You were a fine showy woman when I married you, Sarah; and hang me if you wouldn’t eclipse some of the young ones now. What a blessing it would be if you hadn’t such a bitter tongue.” Luke seemed to be turning this over in his mind, and contemplating it. He spoke half admiringly, half in regret. “Ah, Luke, I dare say you think I am a fiend like the rest of my sex, and I feel like one at times; but if my time had to come over again, I should not alter my choice. There are some things that I’ve done which I would undo if I could, but not that, not that, Luke.” “Come, Sarah, that does me good,” said Luke, going up to her, and putting his hand on her shoulders. “I have often thought we were an ill-assorted couple, and you’ve said many an unkind thing; but you have been a good wife to me after all, always done your duty--ay, and more; and I am sure your heart’s in the right place.” Mrs. Somerton looked up at her husband with a disturbed expression of face. Her heart was in the right place; but her life was blighted by one act of wicked deceit, and she had struggled ever since to justify it to her conscience. “There, you may go now, Luke. You don’t believe I am so bad as I seem?” “You’re a good soul; try and drop all that nonsense about position, and we shall be a regular Darby and Joan in our old age.” Luke kissed her on the forehead and went out; and the wife continued her knitting.