him much for his unobtrusive moral support.
Even Mutimer was putting aside his suspicions and beginning to believe that the
clergyman would have openly encouraged Socialism had his position allowed him to
do so. He was glad to see his wife immersed in grave historical and scientific
reading; he said to himself that in this way she would be delivered from her
religious prejudices, and some day attain to free thought. Adela as yet had no
such end in view, but already she understood that her education, in the serious
sense, was only now beginning. As a girl, her fate had been that of girls in
general; when she could write without orthographical errors, and could play by
rote a few pieces of pianoforte music, her education had been pronounced
completed. In the profound moral revolution which her nature had recently
undergone her intellect also shared; when the first numbing shock had spent
itself, she felt the growth of an intellectual appetite formerly unknown.
Resolutely setting herself to exalt her husband, she magnified his acquirements,
and, as a duty, directed her mind to the things he deemed of importance. One of
her impulses took the form of a hope which would have vastly amused Richard had
he divined it. Adela secretly trusted that some day her knowledge might be
sufficient to allow her to cope with her husband's religious scepticism. It was
significant that she could face in this way the great difficulty of her life;
the stage at which it seemed sufficient to iterate creeds was already behind
her. Probably Mr. Wyvern's conversation was not without its effect in aiding her
to these larger views, but she never spoke to him on the subject directly. Her
native dignity developed itself with her womanhood, and one of the
characteristics of the new Adela was a reserve which at times seemed to indicate
coldness or even spiritual pride.
    The weather made it possible to spread the children's tea in the open air.
At four o'clock Letty came, and was quietly happy in being allowed to
superintend one of the tables. Adela was already on affectionate terms with many
of the little ones, though others regarded her with awe rather than warmth of
confidence. This was strange, when we remember how childlike she had formerly
been with children. Bat herein, too, there was a change; she could not now have
caught up Letty's little sister and trotted with her about the garden as she was
used to do. She could no longer smile in the old simple, endearing way; it took
some time before a child got accustomed to her eyes and lips. Her movements,
though