Nobody

"I could not eat dry food," said the lady; "and you do not drink wine.

What do you drink? Water?"

"Sometimes. Generally we manage to get milk. It is fresh and excellent."

"And without cups and saucers?" said the astonished lady. Lois's"ripple of laughter" sounded again softly.

"Not quite without cups; I am afraid we really do without saucers. Wehave an unlimited tablecloth, you know, of lichen and moss."

"And you really enjoy it?"

But here Lois shook her head. "There are no words to tell how much."

Mrs. Caruthers sighed. If she had spoken out her thoughts, it was tooplain to Lois, she would have said, "I do not enjoy anything."

"How long are you thinking to stay on this side of the water?" Tomasked his friend now.

"Several months yet, I hope. I want to push on into Tyrol. We are notin a hurry. The old house at home is getting put into order, and tillit is ready for habitation we can be nowhere better than here."

"The old house? your house, do you mean? the old house at Battersby?"

"Yes."

"You are not going there? for the winter at least?"

"Yes, we propose that. Why?"

"It is I that should ask 'why.' What on earth should you go to livethere for?"

"It is a nice country, a very good house, and a place I am fond of, and

I think Lois will like."

"But out of the world!"

"Only out of your world," his friend returned, with a smile.

"Why should you go out of our world? it is the world."

"For what good properties?"

"And it has always been your world," Tom went on, disregarding thisquestion.

"I told you, I am changed."

"But does becoming a Christian change a man, Mr. Dillwyn?" Mrs.

Caruthers asked.

"So the Bible says."

"I never saw much difference. I thought we were all Christians."

"If you were to live a while in the house with that lady," said Tomdarkly, "you'd find your mistake. What in all the world do you expectto do up there at Battersby?" he went on, turning to his friend.

"Live," said Philip. "In your world you only drag along existence. Andwe expect to work, which you never do. There is no real living withoutworking, man. Try it, Tom."

"Cannot you work, as you call it, in town?"

"We want more free play, and more time, than town life allows one."

"Besides, the country is so much pleasanter," Lois added.

"But such a neighbourhood! you don't know the neighbourhood – but youdo, Philip. You have no society, and Battersby is nothing but amanufacturing place – "

"Battersby is three and a half miles off; too far for its noise or itssmoke to reach us; and we can get society, as much as we want, andwhat we want; and in such a place there is always a great deal thatmight be done."

The talk went on for some time; Mrs. Caruthers seeming amazed andmystified, Tom dissatisfied and critical. At last, being informed thattheir own quarters were ready, the later comers withdrew, afteragreeing that they would all sup together.

"Tom," said Mrs. Caruthers presently, "whom did Mr. Dillwyn marry?"

"Whom did he marry?"

"Yes. Who was she before she married?"

"I always heard she was nobody," Tom answered, with something between agrunt and a groan.

"Nobody! But that's nonsense. I haven't seen a woman with more style ina great while."

"Style!" echoed Tom, and his word would have had a sharp addition if hehad not been speaking to his wife; but Tom was before all things agentleman. As it was, his tone would have done honour to a grisly bearsomewhat out of temper.

"Yes," repeated Mrs. Caruthers. "You may not know it, Tom, being a man; but I know what I am saying; and I tell you Mrs. Dillwyn has verydistinguished manners. I hope we may see a good deal of them."

Meanwhile Lois was standing still where they had left her, in front ofthe fire; looking down meditatively into it. Her face was grave, andher abstraction for some minutes deep. I suppose her New Englandreserve was struggling with her individual frankness of nature, for shesaid no word, and Mr. Dillwyn, who was watching her, also stood silent.At last frankness, or affection, got the better of reserve; and, with aslow, gentle motion she turned to him, laying one hand on his shoulder, and sinking her face upon his breast.

"Lois! what is it?" he asked, folding his arms about her.

"Philip, it smites me!"

"What, my darling?" he said, almost startled. And then she lifted upher face and looked at him.

"To know myself so happy, and to see them so unhappy. Philip, they arenot happy, – neither one of them!"

"I am afraid it is true. And we can do nothing to help them."

"No, I see that too."

Lois said it with a sigh, and was silent again. Philip did not chooseto push the subject further, uncertain how far her perceptions went, and not wishing to give them any assistance. Lois stood silent andpondering, still within his arms, and he waited and watched her. Atlast she began again.