comfort now--that the children are all under our eye; and, indeed, with
but one sitting-room furnished, and so little outing except in our own
fields, it couldn't well be otherwise. It's an advantage in a way."

"A doubtful advantage in some ways," said Sophia; but the little
children were now heard crying, so she ran from the room.

"Ah, Principal Trenholme," cried the little step-mother, shaking her
head (she was sewing most vigorously the while), "if my children will
but profit by _her_ example! But, indeed, I reproach myself that she is
here at all, although she came against my desire. Sophia is not involved
in our--I might say poverty, Principal Trenholme." (It was the
first-time the word had crossed her lips, although she always conversed
freely to him.) "When I see the farm producing so little in comparison,
I may say, in confidence, _poverty_; but Sophia has sufficient income of
her own." "I did not know that," said Trenholme, sincerely. "She came
with us, for we couldn't think of taking any of it for the house
expenses if she was away; and, as it's not large, it's the more
sacrifice she makes. But Sophia--Sophia might have been a very rich
woman if she'd married the man she was engaged to. Mr. Monekton was only
too anxious to settle everything upon her."

Trenholme had positively started at these words. He did not hear the
next remark. The eight years just passed of Sophia's life were quite
unknown to him, and this was a revelation. He began to hear the talk
again.

"My husband said the jointure was quite remarkable. And then the
carriages and gowns he would have given! You should have seen the jewels
she had! And poor Mr. Monekton--it was one month off the day the wedding