dreadful for us all."

They had been repeatedly but not very much together of late, and I was
compelled to allow to myself that if they did fall in love with each other
it would be very natural on both sides, for there was evidently a great
mental resemblance between them, so that they could not help sympathising
with each other's peculiarities. And anyone could see what a fine couple
they would make.

Wynnie was much taller than Connie--almost the height of her mother. She
had a very fair skin, and brown hair, a broad forehead, a wise, thoughtful,
often troubled face, a mouth that seldom smiled, but on which a smile
seemed always asleep, and round soft cheeks that dimpled like water when
she did smile. I have described Percivale before. Why should not two such
walk together along the path to the gates of the light? And yet I could
not help some anxiety. I did not know anything of his history. I had no
testimony concerning him from anyone that knew him. His past life was a
blank to me; his means of livelihood probably insufficient--certainly,
I judged, precarious; and his position in society--but there I checked
myself: I had had enough of that kind of thing already. I would not
willingly offend in that worldliness again. The God of the whole earth
could not choose that I should look at such works of his hands after that
fashion. And I was his servant--not Mammon's or Belial's.

All this passed through my mind in about three turns of the winnowing-fan
of thought. Mr. Percivale had begun talking to my wife, who took no pains
to conceal that his presence was pleasant to her, and I went upstairs,
almost unconsciously, to Connie's room.

When I opened the door, forgetting to announce my approach as I ought to