Page 449 - for-the-term-of-his-natural-life

ing the man to whom she had allied herself, she began to
be haunted by a dread lest he might do something which
would lessen the affection she bore him. On one or two oc-
casions she had been forced to confess that her husband was
more of an egotist than she cared to think. He demanded
of her no great sacrifices— had he done so she would have
found, in making them, the pleasure that women of her na-
ture always find in such self-mortification—but he now and
then intruded on her that disregard for the feeling of others
which was part of his character. He was fond of her—al-
most too passionately fond, for her staider liking—but he
was unused to thwart his own will in anything, least of all
in those seeming trifles, for the consideration of which true
selfishness bethinks itself. Did she want to read when he
wanted to walk, he good-humouredly put aside her book,
with an assumption that a walk with him must, of neces-
sity, be the most pleasing thing in the world. Did she want
to walk when he wanted to rest, he laughingly set up his
laziness as an all-sufficient plea for her remaining within
doors. He was at no pains to conceal his weariness when
she read her favourite books to him. If he felt sleepy when
she sang or played, he slept without apology. If she talked
about a subject in which he took no interest, he turned the
conversation remorselessly. He would not have wittingly of-
fended her, but it seemed to him natural to yawn when he
was weary, to sleep when he was fatigued, and to talk only
about those subjects which interested him. Had anybody
told him that he was selfish, he would have been astonished.
Thus it came about that Sylvia one day discovered that she

For the Term of His Natural Life