Christian started; the hot flush which now twenty times a day was
beginning to burn in her once pale cheek, burnt there now; but she
restrained herself, for the children sat there--Letitia, preternaturally
sharp, and noticing every thing; Arthur, who rarely spoke except to say
something rude; and also the children's father.

Christian sought his eyes; she was convinced he had heard and
understood every word. But still it had not affected him, except to a
wistful watchfulness of herself, so tender that her indignation sank
down.

"Shall I wait till to-morrow before I write? Perhaps, Dr. Grey, after
all, it would be as well for us to accept these invitations?"

"Perhaps," said he, and said no more. There was no need. Whether or
not they loved, without doubt the husband and wife perfectly
understood one another. So next morning, after a brief consultation
with Dr. Grey, Christian sat down and wrote to these grand University
ladies, who, though not an atom better than herself, would, she knew
well--and smiled, half amused at the knowledge--a year ago have
scarcely recognized her existence, that Mrs. Grey "accepted with
pleasure" their kind invitations.

When the day came round she dressed herself, for the first time in her
whole life, in proper evening costume--white silk, white lace,
ornaments, and flowers. Not too youthful a toilet, for she had no wish
to appear young now, but still bridal--a "bride adorned with her
jewels," only these were but few. She was fastening her one opal
brooch, and looking into the mirror, half sad, half wondering to see
herself so fair, when Dr. Grey entered.