them by extreme surprise. The apparition before them--tall, graceful,
and dignified--could by no means be mistaken for any thing but a
lady--such a lady as Avonsbridge, with all its aristocracy of birth and
condition, rarely produced. She would have been the same even if
attired in hodden gray, but now she was well-dressed in silks and furs.
Dr. Grey had smiled at the modest trousseau, and soon settled every
thing by saying, "My wife must wear so and so." In this rich clothing,
which set off her fair large Saxon beauty to the utmost advantage,
Christian quite dazzled the eyes of the two ladies who had so
persistently called her "that young woman." Any person with eyes at
all could see that, except for the difference in age, there was not the
slightest incongruity between (to follow Barker's pompous
announcement) "the master and Mrs. Grey."

Dr. Grey's personal introduction was brief enough: "Christian, these are
my sisters. This is Maria, and this is Henrietta--Miss Gascoigne."

Christian bowed--a little stately, perhaps--and then held out her hand,
which, after a hesitating glance at Miss Gascoigne, was accepted
timidly by Miss Grey. "I couldn't help it, my dear" she afterward
pleaded, in answer to a severe scolding; "she quite took me by
surprise."

But in Miss Gascoigne's acuter and more worldly nature the surprise
soon wore off, leaving a sharp consciousness of the beauty, grace and
dignity--formidable weapons in the hands of any woman, and
especially of one so young as the master's wife. Not that her youth was
now very noticeable; to any one who had known Christian before her
marriage, she would have appeared greatly altered, as if some strange
mental convulsion had passed over her--passed, and been subdued. In