would never understand, even if it were possible for me to explain,
how hard it is to see which way my duty lies--especially filial."

"Do you mean in general, or in this special matter?"

"Both. You see, in her hands he is so different from what he was
before she came home, that I don't feel as if I was obeying him--
only her; and I don't think I am bound to do that. Not in the great
matter, I am clear. Nobody can meddle with my real sincere pledge
of myself to Frank, nobody!" she spoke as if there was iron in her
lips. "But as far as overt acts go, they have a right to forbid me,
till I am of age at least, and we must bear it."

"Yes, you are right there."

"But there are thousands of other little cases of right and wrong,
and altogether I have come to such a spirit of opposition that I
find it easier to resist than to do anything with a good grace."

"You cannot always tell when resistance is principle, and when
temper or distaste."

"There's distaste enough always," said poor Lenore.

"To gaieties?" he said, amazed as one habituated to his wife's
ravenous appetite for any sort of society or amusement.

"Of course," she answered sadly. "A great deal of trouble just for
a little empty babble. Often not one word worth remembering, and a
general sense of having been full of bad feelings."