She raked the fire.

Her heart was heavy now as it had never been.

Before, with her husband, things had seemed to be breaking down in her, but they did not destroy her power to live.

Now her soul felt lamed in itself.

It was her hope that was struck.
And so often William manifested the same hatred towards his betrothed.
On the last evening at home he was railing against her.
"Well," he said, "if you don't believe me, what she's like, would you believe she has been confirmed three times ?" "Nonsense!" laughed Mrs.Morel.
"Nonsense or not, she HAS! That's what confirmation means for her--a bit of a theatrical show where she can cut a figure." "I haven't, Mrs.Morel!" cried the girl--"I haven't! it is not true!" "What!" he cried, flashing round on her.