CHAPTER XI.
WILLIAM MARSTON.
The clouds were gathering over Mary, too--deep and dark, but of altogether another kind from those that enveloped Letty: no troubles are for one moment to be compared with those that come of the wrongness, even if it be not wickedness, that is our own.

Some clouds rise from stagnant bogs and fens; others from the wide, clean, large ocean.

But either kind, thank God, will serve the angels to come down by.

In the old stories of celestial visitants the clouds do much; and it is oftenest of all down the misty slope of griefs and pains and fears, that the most powerful joy slides into the hearts of men and women and children.

Beautiful are the feet of the men of science on the dust-heaps of the world, but the patient heart will yield a myriad times greater thanks for the clouds that give foothold to the shining angels.
Few people were interested in William Marston.