A feeling which one may not call jealousy,--that were too inhuman,--but still one of the million forms which jealousy assumes to torture us, drove him to ask himself what the effect of such a crisis in her life might be on Emily's love for him.

There would always remain in her inmost soul one profound sadness in which he had no part, and which by its existence would impugn the supremacy of that bond which united him and her.
'How does Mrs.Hood bear it ?' he asked, when he found Mrs.Baxendale again examining his face.
'I think Emily's illness has been her great help,--poor creatures that we are, needing one great grief to balance another.

But she seems in a very weak state; I didn't like her look yesterday.' 'Will you describe her to me ?' asked Wilfrid.
'She is not the kind of mother you would give to Emily.

I'm afraid her miserable life has told upon her greatly, both in mind and body.' 'Emily never spoke of her, though so often of her father.' 'That is what I should have expected.

Still, you must not think her quite unworthy.