One of the saddest features of their trouble was the necessity of reticence and of suffering in silence.  Their proud, sensitive spirits did not permit them to speak of their shame even to Mrs. Wheaton, and she respected their reserve.  Indeed, among themselves they shrank from mentioning the sorrow that oppressed every waking moment and filled their dreams with woful imagery.

Daring an absence of nearly two weeks Mr. Jocelyn occasionally wrote a line, saying that he was as well as they could expect, and that was all.  Then he reappeared among them and began leading a desultory kind of life, coming and going in an aimless way, and giving but little account of himself.  They saw with a deeper depression that he had not improved much, although apparently he had avoided any great excesses.  Occasionally he gave Mildred a little money, but how it was obtained she did not know.  It was well he was reticent, for had she known that it was often part of a small loan from some half-pitying friend of former days, and that it would never be repaid, she would not have used a penny of it.  They were simply compelled to recognize the awful truth, that the husband and father was apparently a confirmed opium inebriate.  At first they pleaded with him again and again, unable to understand how it was possible for him to continue in so fatal a course, but at last they despairingly desisted.  He would at times weep almost hysterically, overwhelmed with remorse, and again storm in reckless anger and unreasoning fury.  As in thousands of other homes wherein manhood and honor have been destroyed, they found no better resource than silent endurance.  Under such inflictions resignation is impossible.  For Mrs. Jocelyn and Mildred it was simply a daily martyrdom, but in her companionship with Roger, Belle had much to sustain, cheer, and even brighten her life.

He was in truth a loyal friend, and daily racked his brain for opportunities to show her and Mrs. Jocelyn some reassuring attention; and his kindness and that of Mrs. Wheaton were about the only glints of light upon their darkening way.  Mildred was polite and even kind in her manner toward the young man, since for Belle’s sake and her mother’s she felt that she must be so.  His course, moreover, had compelled her respect; but nevertheless her shrinking aversion did not diminish.  The fact that an evil destiny had seemingly destroyed her hope of ever looking into the face of Vinton Arnold again made the revolt of her heart all the more bitter against an unwelcome love of which she was ever conscious when Roger was present.  But he had won her entire respect; he knew so much, and he worked on and waited.  The grasp of his mind upon his studies daily grew more masterful, and his industry and persistence were so steady that the old commission merchant began to nod to himself approvingly.