For much as she had revelled in fictitious sentiment, she had somehow never
thought of seeking it in nature, and how that she had found a lover, the
critical sense was not strong enough in her to lead her to compare reality
with imagination. She accepted Ralph as unsuspectingly as she hitherto
accepted the tawdry poetry of her favourite fiction. And her nature not
being a passionate one, she was able to do this without any apparent
transition of sentiment. She pitied him, hoped she could be of use in
nursing him, and felt flattered at the idea of being mistress of a shop.

The mothers were delighted, and spoke of the coincidence of their religions
and the admirable addition dressmaking would be to the drapery business. Of
love, small mention was made. The bridegroom spoke of his prospects of
improving the business, the bride listened, interested for the while in his
enthusiasm; orders came in, and Kate was soon transformed into a
hard-working woman.

This change of character passed unperceived by all but Mrs. Howell, who
died wondering how it came about. Kate herself did not know; she fancied
that it was fully accounted for by the fact that she had no time--'no time
for reading now'--which was no more than the truth; but she did not
complain; she accepted her husband's kisses as she did the toil he imposed
on her--meekly, unaffectedly, as a matter of course, as if she always knew
that the romances which used to fascinate her were merely idle dreams,
having no bearing upon the daily life of human beings--things fit to amuse
a young girl's fancies, and to be thrown aside when the realities of life
were entered upon. The only analogy between the past and present was an
ample submission to authority and an indifference to the world and its
interest. Even the fact of being without children did not seem to concern
her, and when her mother-in-law regretted it she merely smiled languidly,
or said, 'We are very well as we are.' Of the world and the flesh she lived