"Which is not a simple matter, Nansie," observed Mr. Loveday, "when a man runs after it. I can imagine few things more laborious and less likely of a satisfactory result. Now, Nansie, what are your husband's duties in his employment?" "He does not say, uncle." "Do you think he has any?" "I suppose so." "More supposings, Nansie." "What else can I say, uncle?" "Nothing, my dear, and I am to blame for worrying you. We will drop the subject." "No," said Nansie, earnestly, "please do not drop it." "Why should we continue it, Nansie?" "Because," replied Nansie, with a slight flush on her face, "I am afraid you are doing Kingsley an injustice." "I should be sorry to do that," said Mr. Loveday, very seriously. "I know you would," responded Nansie, in a tone of affection, "and that is why I want to set you right. You think that Kingsley is concealing something from me. He is not; he loves me too well. You think that I need some one to defend me. I do not. It is only when a person is wronged or oppressed that he needs a defender. No one has ever wronged or oppressed me. On the contrary, every one in the world is kind to me--that is," she added hastily in correction, for she thought of her husband's parents, "every one who knows me. Now you, uncle," she said, wistfully and tenderly, "before I came here I dare say you had no great regard for me." "I had not, Nansie." "It was only because you made a promise to my dear father out of your kind heart, and because you are an honorable man who would not break his word, that you welcomed me at first. And perhaps, too," her voice faltered a little here, "because I resemble my mother, for whom you had an affection." She paused, uncertain whether she had gone too far; but he inclined his head kindly towards her, and said, "You are speaking justly, Nansie. Go on, if you have anything more to say." "Yes, uncle, I have something more to say. That was your feeling for me at first; but since then--I say it humbly and gratefully--I have been happy in the belief that I have learned something for myself." "You have," said Mr. Loveday. "I love you, Nansie." "It is so sweet to me to know it, dear uncle," said Nansie, with tears in her eyes, "that I am enabled to bear Kingsley's absence--I hope and pray it will not be for long--with courage and resignation. And because of that, because of the love which unites us, you must think well of Kingsley--you must think always well of him. Uncle, he is the soul of honor, truth, and unselfishness. When he told me he loved me, and asked me to marry him, he did not weigh the consequences, as nearly every other man in his position would have done." "He was rash," observed Mr. Loveday. "Would you censure him for it? Did he not behave as an honorable, noble-hearted man?" "Undoubtedly. He has a worthy champion in his wife."