He was rich, and boasted of it vulgarly; he was ignorant, and vaunted the fact, thanking Heaven that for him the purity of religious conviction had never been endangered by the learning that leads astray; he was proud of possessing a young and handsome wife, and for the first time evoked in her a personal vanity.

Day by day was it--most needlessly--impressed upon Miriam that she must regard herself as the chief lady in Bartles, and omit no duty appertaining to such a position.

She had an example to set; she was chosen as a support of religion.
Most happily, the man died.

Had he remained her consort for ten years, the story of Miriam's life would have been one of those that will scarcely bear dwelling upon, too repulsive, too heart-breaking; a few words of bitterness, of ruth, and there were an end of it.

His death was like the removal of a foul burden that polluted her and gradually dragged her down.