Morel was good to her, as good as gold.

But she felt very lonely, miles away from her own people.

She felt lonely with him now, and his presence only made it more intense.
The boy was small and frail at first, but he came on quickly.

He was a beautiful child, with dark gold ringlets, and dark-blue eyes which changed gradually to a clear grey.

His mother loved him passionately.
He came just when her own bitterness of disillusion was hardest to bear; when her faith in life was shaken, and her soul felt dreary and lonely.
She made much of the child, and the father was jealous.
At last Mrs.Morel despised her husband.