his will: “Well, since he hadn’t the decency to remain single, I’m thankful he hasn’t inflicted a stranger on us; and I shall never forget what Miss Brent did for my poor Bessy.…”
It was the view she had wished to bring him to, and the view which, in due course, with all his accustomed grace and adaptability, he presented to the searching gaze of a society profoundly moved by the incident of Amherst’s marriage. “Of course, if Mr. Langhope approves—” society reluctantly murmured; and that Mr. Langhope did approve was presently made manifest by every outward show of consideration toward the newly-wedded couple.
Amherst and Justine had been married in September; and after a holiday in Canada and the Adirondacks they returned to Hanaford for the winter. Amherst had proposed a short flight to Europe; but his wife preferred to settle down at once to her new duties.
The announcement of her marriage had been met by Mrs. Dressel with a comment which often afterward returned to her memory. “It’s splendid for you, of course, dear, in one way,” her friend had murmured, between disparagement and envy—“that is, if you can stand talking about the Westmore mill-hands all the rest of your life.”
“Oh, but I couldn’t—I should hate it!” Justine had
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