“True,” he said, “and is not that view applicable to our social and domestic as well as to our religious state?  Can we draw life always from one person?”

“No; nor was it ever intended that men and women should so exhaust each other.  The marriage law is too arbitrary; it allows no scope for individual action, and yet the subject is so delicate, so intricate, that none but the keenest and nicest balanced minds dare attempt to criticise, much less improve it.  The misconstructions of a person’s motives are so great that many who see its errors, tremble and fear to speak of them.  But if we are to bring any good to the covenant, so sacred in its offices, we must point out its defects and seek to remedy them, and I sometimes think it will be my mission to help it to higher states.  Although such a task would be far from enviable, I will willingly give my thoughts to those who are struggling, at the risk of being misunderstood nine times in ten, as I probably shall be.”

“Then please give me your best thoughts, Miss Evans, for I need all the light I can get, not only for myself, but for others.”

“I am but a scholar, like yourself, Mr. Deane, and I sometimes think that all I may hope to do will be but to lift the burden an instant from the pilgrim’s shoulder, that deeper breath may be taken for the long and often dreary journey.”

A sharp ring of the door-bell interrupted further conversation, and Mr. Deane, bowing to the intruder, as such she seemed at that moment to be, bade Miss Evans good evening, and departed.

The caller was a gossiping woman, who kept many domestic fires alive with her fuel of scandalous reports.

“Dear me, Miss Evans,” she said, as soon as comfortably seated, “was n’t that Mr. Deane?  Yes, I thought so; but my eye-sight ’aint over good, and then he looked so sad-like; maybe he ’aint well,” and she looked inquiringly to Miss Evans, who replied,—­

“I think he is in his usual health; a little worn, perhaps, with business.  How is your family, Mrs. Turner?”

“O, tol’rable, thank ye.  But Mr. Deane did n’t say anything, did he, about his folks?

“His folks?  What do you mean, Mrs. Turner?”

“Law me, I might as well tell as not, now I’ve said what I have.  Why you see Miss Moses who nusses Mrs. Baker, was up ter Mrs. Brown’s last night, and Mrs. Deane’s hired gal was there, and she told Mrs. Brown’s man that Mr. Deane and his wife had some pretty hard words together, and that her folks-her father and mother-was ’goin ter take her home.”

“Mrs. Turner, I have no interest in this gossip; we will change the subject if you please.”

“Lor, don’t be ’fended; I only-I mean I meant no harm.”

“You may not; but this idle habit of retailing the sayings of others, is worse than folly.  It’s a great wrong to yourself and the individuals spoken of.”

“Well, I did n’t think to have such a lectur’,” said the woman, affecting a feeling of good nature, “I say as I said afore, I meant no harm.  I like Mr. and Mrs. Deane very much, and thought it was too bad for such things to be said.”