been; for, if we believe in an overruling Providence at all, there can be
no such possibility as 'might have been.'"

"That is true," said Christian, musingly. She had never known Dr.
Grey to speak like this. She wondered a little why he should do it now;
and yet his words struck home. That great "mistake"--was it his first
marriage? which, perhaps, had not been a happy one. At least, he never
spoke of it, or of his children's mother. And besides, it was difficult to
believe that any man could have loved two women, as, Christian knew
and felt, Dr. Grey now loved herself.

But she asked hint no questions; she felt not the slightest curiosity
about that, or about any thing. She was like a person in a state of moral
catalepsy, to whom, for the time being, every feeling, pleasant or
painful, seems dulled and dead.

Dr. Grey said no more, and what he had said was evidently with great
effort. He appeared glad to go back into ordinary talk, showing her
what he had done in the room to make it pretty and pleasant for his
bride, and smiling over her childish delight to see again her maiden
treasures, with which she had parted so mournfully.

"You could not think I meant you really to part with them, Christian?"
said he. "I fancied you had found out my harmless deceit long ago.
But you are such an innocent baby, my child--as clear as crystal, and as
true as steel."

"Oh no, no!" she cried, as he went out of the room--a cry that was
almost a sob, and might have called him back again--but he was gone,
and the moment had passed by. With it passed the slight quivering and