“Any woman, situated as she is,” remarked another, “who is not contented, deserves to be wretched.  I have no sympathy for her.  Her husband I know very well, and know him to be one of the kindest and most indulgent of men.”

“He has indulged her too much,” alleged another.

These impressions the elder Mrs. Edwards strengthened and confirmed, whenever she had occasion to say any thing on the subject.

“Percy has rather a gloomy time of it,” she would sometimes remark, when allusion was made to the subject; and then, when the inquisitive would ask as to the cause of Kate’s strange conduct, she would shake her head gravely, and say—­

“Over-indulgence has spoiled her.”

Or—­

“It’s hard to tell what ails her, unless it be the desire for some impossible thing.  Some minds are never content.  To multiply their blessings is but to multiply their misery.”

Or—­

“Heaven knows what ails her!  Percy would give worlds for that knowledge, if with it came also the remedy.”

The rapid decline in his wife’s health, or rather its failure, after the birth of her child, to come back its old standard united to her lowness of spirits—­naturally gave her husband some concern, and he consulted her physician as to the cause.  He, as the profession generally do, assigned a physical cause, and recommended change of air.

“Let her go to the sea-shore, or among the Mountains,” said he.

And this change was proposed to Kate.

“I saw Doctor R—­to-day,” said her husband, after the interview, “and he recommends a few weeks on the sea-shore, or somewhere among the mountains.”

“I don’t wish to go,” replied Kate, in a low, sad voice.

“But your health, Kate,” said Mr. Edwards.

“I shall be just as well at home,” she replied.

“No, I will not admit that.  Doctor R—­is sure that a change of air will do you good; and what he says is reasonable.”

Kate made no answer.  Mr. Edwards continued to urge the matter upon her; but she had no more to say.

On the same evening Percy called to see his mother.

“How is Kate?” inquired the latter.

“No better.  I saw Doctor R—­about her to-day, and he says a change of air is absolutely necessary, and recommends a few weeks at the Bedford Springs, or at Newport, or Cape May.”

“No doubt it would do her much good.”

“No doubt in the world.  But, as in every thing else of late, she is opposed to just what her friends recommend to her as best.”

“She doesn’t want to go?”

“No, of course not.”

“Did you tell that the doctor recommended the change?”

“Yes.  But she insists upon it that she will be just as well at home.”

“A compliment to the medical opinion of Doctor R—!

“Isn’t it?  I wish you would see her, and urge her to go somewhere.”