I saw Delia myself, on the next day.  She was dressed in New York, not in S——­, style; and so, naturally, appeared to disadvantage in my eyes.  I found her very bright and animated; and to my questions as to her new city life, she spoke warmly of its attractions.  At times, in the intervals of exciting talk, her countenance would fall into its true expression, as nearly all countenances will when thought ceases to be active—­that expression, in which you see, as in a mirror, the actual state of mind.  It revealed far more than came into her consciousness at the time, else would she have covered it with one of the rippling smiles she had already learned to throw, like a spangled veil, over her face.

Mrs. Dewey spent nearly a month in S——­and then went back with her husband to New York.  I saw them several times together during this period.  He had grown more pompous in manner, and talked in a larger way.  Our little town was simply contemptible in his eyes, and he was at no pains to conceal his opinion.  New York was everything; and a New York merchant of passable standing, able to put two or three towns like S——­in his breeches pocket.

The only interest I felt in this conceited young man was as the husband of my young friend; and as touching their relation to each other, I observed both of them very closely.  It did not take me long to discover that there was no true bond of love between them.  The little fond attentions that we look for in a husband of only six months’ standing; and the tender reciprocations which are sure to follow, were all wanting here.  Constance spoke of this, and I answered, lightly, to cover the regret the fact occasioned—­

“It is not fashionable in good society, you know, for husband and wife to show any interest in each other.”

She laid her hand suddenly upon my arm, and looked lovingly into my face.

“May we never make a part of good society, then!”

I kissed her pure lips, and answered,

“There is no present prospect of it, my Constance.  I am not ambitious of social distinction.  Still, our trial in this direction may come, for you know that I am not without ambition professionally.  A chair in one of the medical schools might tempt me to an Atlantic city.”

Constance smiled, as she still rested her hand upon my arm.  Then looking from my face to our little ones, two of whom were playing on the floor, while the third slept like a vision of innocence in the cradle, she said:—­

“I shall not need the glitter of diamonds—­these are my jewels.”

Turn your eyes away, good society reader, lest they be offended at sight of a husband’s kiss.  Could I do less than breathe my tender love upon her lips again?

“And richer jewels were never worn in the diadem of a queen,” said I.  “As a mother, woman attains her highest glory.”

“As wife and mother,” Constance answered quickly.  And now she leaned against me, and I drew my arm tenderly around her.