his affairs, married him in the hope of doing something to help him
out of his difficulties. A few pounds she had saved up, and a
trifle her mother had left her, she placed unreservedly at his
disposal, and he in his abounding honesty spent it on his
creditors, bettering things for a time, and, which was of much more
consequence, greatly relieving his mind, and giving the life in him
a fresh start. His marriage was of infinitely more salvation to the
laird than if it had set him free from all his worldly
embarrassments, for it set him growing again--and that is the only
final path out of oppression.

Whatever were the feelings with which he took his wife home, they
were at least those of a gentleman; and it were a good thing
indeed, if, at the end of five years, the love of most pairs who
marry for love were equal to that of Cosmo Warlock to his
middle-aged wife; and now that she was gone, his reverence for her
memory was something surpassing. From the day almost of his
marriage the miseries of life lost half their bitterness, nor had
it returned at her death. Instinctively he felt that outsiders,
those even who respected him as an honest man, believed that,
somehow or other, they could only conjecture how, he must be to
blame for the circumstances he was in--either this, or providence
did not take care of the just man. Such was virtually the unuttered
conclusion of many, who nevertheless imagined they understood the
Book of Job, and who would have counted Warlock's rare honesty,
pride or fastidiousness or unjustifiable free-handedness. Hence
they came to think and speak of him as a poor creature, and soon
the man, through the keen sensitiveness of his nature, became aware
of the fact. But to his sense of the misprision of neighbours and
friends, came the faith and indignant confidence of his wife like