Perhaps she did not fully appreciate it; to a life like hers it was only an incident, the mere turning of a page of the illimitable book of youth; the breaking up of what she now felt had become a monotony.

In fact, she was not quite sure she had ever been satisfied with their present success.

Had it brought her all she expected?
She wanted to say this to her husband, not only to comfort him, poor fellow, but that they might come to a better understanding of life in the future.

She was not perhaps different from other loving women who, believing in this unattainable goal of matrimony, have sought it in the various episodes of fortune or reverses, in the bearing of children, or the loss of friends.

In her childless experience there was no other life that had taken root in her circumstances and might suffer transplantation; only she and her husband could lose or profit by the change.