Four Gates by Amy Le Feuvre

"She is so conjunctive to my life and soul That as the star moves not but in his sphere I could not, but by her. " SHAKESPEARE.

PAULINE took the small farmhouse and moved her furniture into it.

When Audrey motored down and stayed a couple of nights with her, she was delighted with it. There was an oak staircase, and the rooms were large, with quaint window seats and corners.

"But," said Audrey, "it seems too big for you, Pauline. I don't like to think of you upon the dreary winter days wandering about here in the dusk alone."

"Do you know what I want to do?"

"Something philanthropic, I am sure."

"Not at all. I want to have Honor and her children here for a part of the winter. I have even planned out their rooms."

"That would be delightful, but are you sure you can afford it?"

"I think so. We shall live very simply. And the small girl I have to help Mary is as strong as a pony and very willing. We shall want no extra help. Honor tells me she takes entire charge of her baby; she has no nurse."

"But perhaps her sister-in-law won't let her come."

"That is the very point. Miss Selkirk has been accustomed to spend two or three months away at Torquay in the winter-time. Honor told me privately she would like to get a little cottage somewhere for that time. But I know at present she cannot afford it. You see, Audrey dear, you cannot expect me to sit down and do nothing in this house. I cannot tell you what a blank there is in my life. I have not become accustomed to my leisure. I have taken the house, as I must have a home and a place for my furniture, and I thought about Honor when I did it. I want to have guests, and she will be my first one."

"Oh! " cried Audrey impulsively. "What a dear you are! And if I were the poor governess again, I should come here for all my holidays-shouldn't I? I lose a lot by Bernard's money."

"You can do a lot of good with it."

"I am getting tired of my leisure," said Audrey, with a sigh. "Like you, I don't care for it. I love a busy life, and I haven't got it. Bernard isn't well enough to lead anything but a quiet life. We are too peaceful. I can hardly believe I am marching westward. My storms have disappeared. I think-if I may say so under my breath-I rather enjoyed them. The whole time I was at the college, there were continual breezes of some sort or another. There was always something happening to call forth one's powers. I declare, if I were over sixty, with a flagging step and fading sight, I would suit Bernard just as well. I could still look after his comforts and mend his socks and read the papers to him."

"I am afraid you are discontented."

If Pauline's words were a rebuke, her smile was not.

"Yes; I have a discontented nature unless I am filled to the brim with work, and then I am happy. I think I am at present like a lamp nearly empty of oil-I have the capacity for being filled and consequently giving more light. Oh, I am a conceited wretch! Don't make me talk any more about myself. Every day I pray to be kept humble. I do rise up so aggressively whenever I get a chance! I shall come down and see Honor when you get her here. What a happy little party you will be! Don't laugh at me-but living alone with one man is very dull!"

"Oh, Audrey, for shame! What would you do if you were married?"

"Help my husband with his work. I would never marry an idle man like Bernard, though he is a dear, and I am simply longing for him to get a nice wife."

When Pauline's invitation arrived for Honor, Miss Selkirk looked rather glum. She was vexed at the lighting of Honor's face and the eagerness with which she told her about it.