From that day a new life commenced for Mr. Loveday. It was not that there was any great improvement in the ordinary domestic arrangements of his modest establishment, because the reign of Timothy had introduced beneficial changes in this respect before Nansie was made queen. It was more in its spiritual than its material aspect that the new life was made manifest. To have a lady moving quietly about the house, to be greeted by a smile and a kind glance whenever he turned towards her, to hear her gentle voice addressing him without invitation on his part--all this was not only new, but wonderful and delightful. Mr. Loveday very soon discovered that Nansie was indeed a lady, and far above the worldly station to which her circumstances relegated her; it was an agreeable discovery, and he appreciated it keenly. He found himself listening with pleasure to her soft footfall on the stairs or in the rooms above, and he would even grow nervous if any length of time elapsed without evidence of her presence in the house. Perhaps Nansie's crowning virtue was her unobtrusiveness. Everything she did was done quietly, without the least fuss or noise; no slamming of doors to jar the nerves, nothing to disturb or worry. "Where did you learn it all, Nansie?" asked Mr. Loveday. "It is what all women do," she replied. He did not dispute with her, although his experience was not favorable to her view. Inwardly he said: "What all women could _not_ do, if they tried ever so hard, but then Nansie had perfection for a mother." His thoughts travelled frequently now to the early days when he loved the woman who was not to become his wife, and it may be that he accepted Nansie's companionship and presence as in some sense a recompense for his youthful disappointment, a meting out of poetical justice, as it were.