sharpened, as they had a way of doing when she was tired; and she had
little else to do that evening than think how tired she was, for her
husband observing, as he remarked afterwards, that she did not feel like
talking, kindly entertained her friend himself.

As they went up stairs for the night, it struck him, for the first time
in his life, that Harrie had a snubbed nose. It annoyed him, because she
was his wife, and he loved her, and liked to feel that she was as well
looking as other women.

"Your friend is a bright girl," he said, encouragingly, when Harrie had
hushed a couple of children, and sat wearily down to unbutton her boots.

"I think you will find her more easy to entertain than Cousin
Mehitabel."

Then, seeing that Harrie answered absently, and how exhausted she
looked, he expressed his sorrow that she should have worked so long over
the shirts, and kissed her as he spoke; while Harrie cried a little, and
felt as if she would cut them all over again for that.

The next day Miss Dallas and Mrs. Sharpe sat sewing together; Harrie
cramping her shoulders and blackening her hands over a patch on Rocko's
rough little trousers; Pauline playing idly with purple and orange
wools,--her fingers were white, and she sank with grace into the warm
colors of the arm-chair; the door was opened into the hall, and Dr.
Sharpe passed by, glancing in as he passed.

"Your husband is a very intelligent man, Harrie," observed Miss Dallas,
studying her lavenders and lemons thoughtfully. "I was much interested