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The task is no
trifling one. I'm very much afraid that neither you nor I will live
to see it completed."
"Pray don't discourage us," put in Constance. "Comprehensive
theories are all very well, but Mr. Breakspeare's practical energy
is quite as good a thing."
The editor turned his eyes upon Miss Bride, their expression a
respectful gratitude. He was a married man, with abundant offspring.
Mrs. Breakspeare rose every morning at half-past six, and toiled at
her domestic duties, year in year out, till ten o'clock at night;
she was patient as laborious, and had never repined under her lot.
But her education was elementary; she knew nothing of political
theories, nothing of science or literature, and, as he looked at
Constance Bride, Breakspeare asked himself what he might not have
done, what ambition he might not have achieved, had it been his fate
to wed such a woman as _that_! Miss Bride was his ideal. He came to
Rivenoak less often than he wished, because the sight of her
perturbed his soul and darkened him with discontent.


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