As for Alice's own life, it was happier than it had ever been. Mr.
Openshaw required no demonstration, no expressions of affection from her.
Indeed, these would rather have disgusted him. Alice could love deeply,
but could not talk about it. The perpetual requirement of loving words,
looks, and caresses, and misconstruing their absence into absence of
love, had been the great trial of her former married life. Now, all went
on clear and straight, under the guidance of her husband's strong sense,
warm heart, and powerful will. Year by year their worldly prosperity
increased. At Mrs. Wilson's death, Norah came back to them, as nurse to
the newly-born little Edwin; into which post she was not installed
without a pretty strong oration on the part of the proud and happy
father; who declared that if he found out that Norah ever tried to screen
the boy by a falsehood, or to make him nesh either in body or mind, she
should go that very day. Norah and Mr. Openshaw were not on the most
thoroughly cordial terms; neither of them fully recognising or
appreciating the other's best qualities.

This was the previous history of the Lancashire family who had now
removed to London, and had come to occupy the House.

They had been there about a year, when Mr. Openshaw suddenly informed his
wife that he had determined to heal long-standing feuds, and had asked
his uncle and aunt Chadwick to come and pay them a visit and see London.
Mrs. Openshaw had never seen this uncle and aunt of her husband's. Years
before she had married him, there had been a quarrel. All she knew was,
that Mr. Chadwick was a small manufacturer in a country town in South
Lancashire. She was extremely pleased that the breach was to be healed,
and began making preparations to render their visit pleasant.

They arrived at last. Going to see London was such an event to them,