With these ideas, and the healthy satisfaction they engendered, his heart grew light and joyous,--his eyes more lustrous,--his step gay and elastic,--and his whole appearance was that of man at his best,--man, as God most surely meant him to be--not a rebellious, feebly-repining, sneering wretch, ready to scoff at the very sunlight,--but a being both brave and intelligent, strong and equally balanced in temperament, and not only contented, but absolutely glad to be alive,--glad to feel the blood flowing through the veins,--glad and grateful for the gifts of breathing and sight.
As each day passed, the more close and perfect grew the sympathies of husband and wife,--they were like two notes of a perfect chord, sounding together in sweetest harmony. Naturally, much of this easy and mutual blending of character and disposition arose from Thelma's own gracious and graceful submissiveness,--submissiveness which, far from humiliating her, actually placed her (though she knew it not) on a throne of almost royal power, before which Sir Philip was content to kneel--an ardent worshipper of her womanly sweetness. Always without question or demur, she obeyed his wishes implicitly,--though, as has been before mentioned, she was at first a little overpowered and startled by the evidences of his wealth, and did not quite know what to do with all the luxuries and gifts he heaped upon her. Britta's worldly prognostications had come true,--the simple gowns her mistress had worn at the Altenfjord were soon discarded for more costly apparel,--though Sir Philip had an affection for his wife's Norwegian costumes, and in his heart thought they were as pretty, if not prettier, than the most perfect triumphs of a Parisian modiste.
But in the social world, Fashion, the capricious deity, must be followed, if not wholly, yet in part; and so Thelma's straight, plain garments were laid carefully by as souvenirs of the old days, and were replaced by toilettes of the most exquisite description,--some simple,--some costly,--and it was difficult to say in which of them the lovely wearer looked her best. She herself was indifferent in the matter--she dressed to please Philip,--if he was satisfied, she was happy--she sought nothing further. It was Britta whose merry eyes sparkled with pride and admiration when she saw her "Fröken" arrayed in gleaming silk or sweeping velvets, with the shine of rare jewels in her rippling hair,--it was Britta who took care of all the dainty trifles that gradually accumulated on Thelma's dressing table,--in fact, Britta had become a very important personage in her own opinion. Dressed neatly in black, with a coquettish muslin apron and cap becomingly frilled, she was a very taking little maid, with her demure rosy face and rebellious curls, though very different to the usual trained spy whose officious ministrations are deemed so necessary by ladies of position, whose lofty station in life precludes them from the luxury of brushing their own hair. Britta's duties were slight--she invented most of them--yet she was always busy sewing, dusting, packing, or polishing. She was a very wide-awake little person, too,--no hint was lost upon her,--and she held her own wherever she went with her bright eyes and sharp tongue. Though secretly in an unbounded state of astonishment at everything new she saw, she was too wise to allow this to be noticed, and feigned the utmost coolness and indifference, even when they went from Germany to Paris, where the brilliancy and luxury of the shops almost took away her breath for sheer wonderment.