He could not bear, without a pang, to see Angela in the dingy surroundings that he could barely afford to provide for her.
On her part Angela took nothing with her but a few jewels her mother had left her, some clothes and very little money.

The money soon disappeared and then one by one the keepsakes of her mother were parted with.

But they never lost heart.

Through it all they were happy.

All the poetry of O'Connell's nature came uppermost, leavened, as it was, by the deep faith and veneration of his wife.
This strangely assorted fervent man and gentle woman seemed to have solved the great mystery of happiness between two people.
But the poverty chafed O'Connell--not for himself, but for the frail, loving, uncomplaining woman who had given her life into his care.
His active brain was continually trying to devise new ways of adding to his meagre income.