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6 BLACK SHEEP.all her life and being, who had renounced for him— though she denied to herself that such renunciationwas any sacrifice, for did she not love him,as happy women, the caressed of society, do notknow how to love — home, name,kindred,and God,could possibly shrink from him now?She hadnot played any pretty little game of self-deception;she had not persuaded herself that he wasother than he really was; she did not care, sheloved him, just as he was, no better and no worse.She lived for him, she believed in, she desired, sheasked no other life;and if a terrible anguishhadcome into that life latterly, that was her share ofit, her fair share. It yvas not easy,for she was awomanand weak;her nerves would thrill sometimes,andphantoms syvarm about her; sleeplessnesswould wear her down, and a spellbe set uponher lips,under yvhich they strove vainly to curvewith their old smile, and to utter their old yvordsof endearment and protestation;for she scornedand hated herself for such weakness, and couldhave torn her rebellious fleshwith rage, thatsometimes it would creep and turn cold yvhen hetouched her, or even when he only spoke. She

RECOGNITION. 7fought this false and dastardly yveakness, as shecalled it, yvith steady bravery, and yvith the resolveto conquer, yvhich is always half a moralbattle; but she did not conquer it, she onlyquelledit for alittle while. Itreturned on occasions,and thenit tortured and appalled her evenmore than when the foe had been always inposition.All such conflicts of feehng had the effect ofnarrowingthe sphere of her life,of concentratingher whole attention on, and intensifying her absorptionin,her husband. A lassitude yvhich heroyvngoodsense told her yvas dangerousbegan totake possession of her. They were better off now— she did not rightly knoyv how, or hoyv much,for she had gradually lapsed from her previouscustomary active overseering of Routh's affairs,and had been content to take money as he gaveit, and expendit as he desired,skilfully and economically,but yvith an entire indifference, verydifferent from thecheerful,sunnyhousehold thriftinesswhichhacl formerly been so marked a featurein their Bohemian life, and had testified, perhapsmore strongly than any other of its character-

6 BLACK SHEEP.all her life and being, who had renounced for him— though she denied to herself that such renunciationwas any sacrifice, for did she not love him,as happy women, the caressed of society, do notknow how to love — home, name,kindred,and God,could possibly shrink from him now?She hadnot played any pretty little game of self-deception;she had not persuaded herself that he wasother than he really was; she did not care, sheloved him, just as he was, no better and no worse.She lived for him, she believed in, she desired, sheasked no other life;and if a terrible anguishhadcome into that life latterly, that was her share ofit, her fair share. It yvas not easy,for she was awomanand weak;her nerves would thrill sometimes,andphantoms syvarm about her; sleeplessnesswould wear her down, and a spellbe set uponher lips,under yvhich they strove vainly to curvewith their old smile, and to utter their old yvordsof endearment and protestation;for she scornedand hated herself for such weakness, and couldhave torn her rebellious fleshwith rage, thatsometimes it would creep and turn cold yvhen hetouched her, or even when he only spoke. She

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