THE TWO WIVES;

OR, LOST AND WON. 

BY

T. S. ARTHUR. 

PHILADELPHIA:

1851. 

PREFACE. 

THE story of the "Two Wives; or, Lost and Won, " is intended to show thepower of tender, earnest, self-forgetting love, in winning back fromthe path of danger a husband whose steps have strayed, and who hasapproached the very brink of ruin; and, by contrast, to exhibit the sadconsequences flowing from a want of these virtues under likecircumstances. 

This book is the third in the Series of "ARTHUR'S LIBRARY FOR THEHOUSEHOLD. " The fourth, which is nearly ready, will be called "THE WAYSOF PROVIDENCE; OR, HE DOETH ALL THINGS WELL. "

THE TWO WIVES. 

CHAPTER I. 

"YOU are not going out, John?" said Mrs. Wilkinson, looking up from thework she had just taken into her hands. There was a smile on her lips;but her eyes told, plainly enough, that a cloud was upon her heart. 

Mrs. Wilkinson was sitting by a small work-table, in a neatly furnishedroom. It was evening, and a shaded lamp burned upon the table. Mr. Wilkinson, who had been reading, was standing on the floor, havingthrown down his book and risen up hastily, as if a sudden purpose hadbeen formed in his mind. 

"I shall only be gone a little while, dear, " returned Mr. Wilkinson, aslight air of impatience visible beneath his kind voice and manner. 

"Don't go, John, " said Mrs. Wilkinson, still forcing a smile to hercountenance. "I always feel so lonely when you are away. We only haveour evenings to be together; and I cannot bear then to be robbed ofyour company. Don't go out, John; that's a good, dear husband. "

And Mrs. Wilkinson, in the earnestness of her desire to keep herhusband at home, laid aside her sewing, and rising, approached andleaned her hands upon his shoulder, looking up with an affectionate, appealing expression into his face. 

"You're a dear, good girl, Mary, " said Mr. Wilkinson, tenderly, and hekissed the pure lips of his wife as he spoke. "I know it's wrong toleave you alone here. But, I won't be gone more than half an hour. Indeed I won't. See, now;" and he drew forth his watch; "it is justeight o'clock, and I will be home again precisely at half-past eight, to a minute. "

Mrs. Wilkinson made no answer; but her husband saw that tears were inthe eyes fixed so lovingly upon him. 

"Now don't, love, " said he, tenderly, "make so much of just half anhour's absence. I promised Elbridge that I would call around and seehim about a little matter of business, and I must keep my word. I hadforgotten the engagement until it crossed my mind while reading. "

"If you have an engagement. " There was a certain emphasis in the wordsof Mrs. Wilkinson that caused her husband to partly turn his face away. 

"I have, dear. But for that, I should not think of leaving you alone. "

Almost instinctively Mrs. Wilkinson withdrew the hands she had placedupon the shoulder of her husband, and receded from him a step or two;at the same time her face was bent downwards, and her eyes rested uponthe floor. 

For some moments Mr. Wilkinson stood as if in earnest debate withhimself; then he said, in a cheerful, lively tone--

"Good-by, love. I shall only be gone half an hour. " And turning away, left the room. He did not pause until he was in the street. Then aspirit of irresolution came over him, and he said to himself, as hemoved slowly away, "It isn't kind in me to leave Mary alone in this way; I know it isn't. But I want to see Elbridge; and, in fact, partly promised that I wouldcall upon him this evening. True, I can say all I wish to say to him inthe morning, and to quite as good purpose. But--"

Wilkinson, whose steps had been growing more and more deliberate, stopped. For some time he stood, in a thoughtful attitude--then slowlyreturned. His hand was in his pocket, his dead-latch key between hisfingers, and his foot upon the marble sill of his door. And thus heremained, in debate with himself, for as long a time as two or threeminutes. 

"Yes; I must see him! I had forgotten that, " he exclaimed, in a lowtone, and suddenly stepped back from the door, and with a rapid pacemoved down the street. A walk of ten minutes brought him to the houseof Mr. Elbridge. But it so happened that this gentleman was not at home. 

"How soon do you expect him to return?" was inquired of the servant. 

"He may be here in half an hour; or not before ten o'clock, " was thereply. 

Wilkinson was disappointed. Leaving his name with the servant, andsaying that he would probably call again during the evening, hedescended the steps and walked away. He was moving in the direction ofhis home, and had arrived within a block thereof when he stopped, saying to himself as he did so--

"I must see Elbridge this evening. It is already nearly half an hoursince I left home, and I promised Mary that I would not remain away amoment longer than that time. But, I did not think Elbridge would beout. Poor Mary! She looks at me with such sad eyes, sometimes, that itgoes to my very heart. She cannot bear to have me out of her sight. Canshe doubt me in any thing? No; I will not believe that. She is aloving, gentle-minded creature--and one of the best of wives. Ah me! Iwish I were more like her. "

Still Wilkinson remained standing, and in debate with himself. 

"I will go home, " said he, at length, with emphasis, and walked quicklyonward. He was within a few doors of his own home, when his steps beganto linger again. He had come once more into a state of irresolution. 

"Perhaps Elbridge has returned. " This thought made him stop again. "Hemust have understood me that I would be around. "

Just at this moment the crying of a child was heard. 

"Is that Ella?" Wilkinson walked around a little way, until he camenearly opposite his own house. Then he stopped to listen moreattentively. 

Yes. It was the grieving cry of his own sick babe. 

"Poor child!" he murmured. "I wonder what can ail her?"

He looked up at the chamber windows. The curtains were drawn aside, andhe saw upon the ceiling of the room the shadow of some one moving toand fro. He did not doubt that it was the shadow of his wife, as, withtheir sick babe in her arms, she walked to and fro in the effort tosoothe it again to sleep. Had there been a doubt, it would have beenquickly dispelled, for there came to his ears the soft tones of a voicehe knew full well--came in tones of music, low and soothing, but withmost touching sweetness. It was the voice of his wife, and she sang theair of the cradle-hymn with which he had been soothed to rest when helay an innocent babe in his mother's arms. 

The feelings of Wilkinson, a good deal excited by the struggle betweenaffection and duty on the one side, and appetite and inclination on theother, were touched and softened by the incident, and he was aboutentering his house when the approaching form of a man, a short distancein advance, caught his eye, and he paused until he came up. 

"Elbridge! The very one I wished to see!" he exclaimed, in a low voice, as he extended his hand and grasped that of his friend. "I've just beento your house. Did you forget that I was to call around?"

"I didn't understand you to say, certainly, that you would call, or Ishould have made it a point to be at home. But no matter. All in goodtime. I'm on my way home now, and you will please return with me. "

"I don't know about that, " said Wilkinson, who could not forget hispromise to his wife. "I told Mary, when I went out, that I would onlybe gone half an hour, and that time has expired already. "

"Oh, never mind, " returned the other, lightly. "She'll forgive you, I'll be bound. Tell her that you came home, in all obedience to herwishes, but that I met you at your own door, and carried you off inspite of yourself. "

And as Elbridge said this, he drew his arm within that of Wilkinson, and the two men went chatting away. 

Elbridge was fond of good wine, and always kept a few choice bottles onhand. Wilkinson knew this; and, if he had looked narrowly into hisheart on the present occasion, he would have discovered that the wineof his friend had for him a stronger attraction than his company. 

As the latter had anticipated, wine and cigars were producedimmediately on their arrival at the house of Elbridge; and in theexhilaration of the one and the fumes of the other, he soon forgot hislonely, troubled wife and sick child at home. 

A friend or two dropped in, in the course of half an hour; and then asecond bottle of wine was uncorked, and glasses refilled with itssparkling contents. 

The head of Wilkinson was not very strong. A single glass of winegenerally excited him, and two or three proved, always, more than hecould bear. It was so on this occasion; and when, at eleven o'clock, hepassed forth from the house of his friend, it was only by an effortthat he could walk steadily. The cool night air, as it breathed uponhis heated brow, partially sobered him, and his thoughts turned towardshis home. A sigh and the act of striking his hand upon his foreheadmarked the effect of this transition of thought. 

"Poor Mary! I didn't mean to stay away so late. I meant to return inhalf an hour, " he muttered, half aloud. "But this is always the way. I'm afraid I've taken too much of Elbridge's wine; a little affects me. I wonder if Mary will notice it; I wouldn't have her to do so for theworld. Poor child! it would frighten her to death. I rather think I'dbetter try to walk off the effects of what I've been drinking. It'slate, any how, and fifteen or twenty minutes will make but littledifference either way. "

As Wilkinson said this, he turned down a cross street which he happenedto be passing at the moment, and moved along with a quicker pace. Gradually the confusion of his thoughts subsided. 

"I wish I had remained at home, " he sighed, as the image of his wifearose distinctly in his mind. "Poor Mary! I broke my word with her, though I promised so faithfully. Oh, dear! this weakness on my part isterrible. Why was I so anxious to see Elbridge? there was no realengagement, and yet I told Mary there was. I would not have her know ofthis deception for the world. I forgot about dear little Ella's beingso sick; what if we should lose that little angel? Oh! I could not bearit!"

Wilkinson stopped suddenly as this thought flashed over his mind. Hewas soberer by far than when he left the house of Mr. Elbridge. 

"I'll go home at once. " He turned and began quickly retracing hissteps. And now he remembered the moving shadow on the wall, as hestood, nearly three hours before, in front of his house, debating withhimself whether to enter or no. He heard too, in imagination, theplaintive cries of his sick child, and the soothing melody of itsmother's voice as she sought to hush into sleep its unquiet spirit. 

CHAPTER II. 

WILKINSON was nearly in front of his own door, when he was thusfamiliarly accosted by a man named Ellis, who came leisurely walkingalong with a lighted cigar in his mouth. 

"Hallo! is this you, Wilkinson? What in the name of wonder are youdoing out at such an hour?"

"And suppose I were to ask you the same question?" inquired Wilkinson, as he took the hand of the other, who was an old acquaintance. 

"It would be easily answered, " was the unhesitating reply of Ellis, whohad been drinking rather freely. 

"Well, suppose I have the benefit of your answer. "

"You're quite welcome. I keep no secrets from an old friend, you see. Can't you guess?"

"I'm not good at guessing. "

"Had a little tiff with Cara, " said Ellis in a half whisper, as he bentto the ear of his companion. 

"Oh, no!" returned Wilkinson. 

"Fact. Cara's a dear, good soul, as you know; but she's a self-willedlittle jade, and if I don't do just as she wants me to--if I don't walkher chalk line--_presto!_ she goes off like a rocket. To-night, d'yesee, I came home with the first volume of Prescott's new work onMexico--a perfect romance of a book, and wanted to read it aloud toCara. But no, she had something else in her head, and told me, up anddown, that she didn't want to hear any of my dull old histories. I gotmad, of course; I always get mad when she comes athwart my hawes inthis way. 

"'Dull old histories!' said I, indignantly. 'There's more true life andreal interest in this book than in all the Wandering Jews or LauraMatilda novels that ever were written; and I wish you'd throw suchmiserable trash into the fire, and read books from which to get someintelligence and strength of mind. ' Whew! The way she combed my hairfor me at this was curious. I am a philosopher, and on these occasionsgenerally repeat to myself the wise saw--

 'He that fights and runs away, May live to fight another day. '

So, deeming discretion the better part of valour, I retreated indisorder. "

"That's bad, " remarked Wilkinson, who knew something of the characterof his friend's wife. 

"I know it's bad; but, then, I can't help myself. Cara has such a queertemper, I never know how to take her. "

"You ought to understand her peculiarities by this time, and bear withthem. "

"Bear with them! I'd like to see you have the trial for a while; yourwife is an angel. Ah, John! you're a lucky dog. If I had such asweet-tempered woman in my house, I would think it a very paradise. "

"Hush! hush! Harry; don't speak in that way. Few women possess so manygood qualities as Mrs. Ellis; and it is your duty to cherish and lovethe good, and to bear with the rest. "

"Well preached; but, as I am to apply the discourse, and not you, Imust beg to be excused. "

"Good-night. Go home, kiss Cara, and forgive her, " said Wilkinson; andhe made a motion to pass on, adding, as he did so, "I'm out much laterthan usual, and am in a hurry to get back. Mary will be uneasy aboutme. "

But Ellis caught hold of one of his arms with both hands, and held onto him. 

"Can't let you go, Wilkinson" said he, firmly. "You're the man of allothers I want to see--been thinking about you all the evening; want tohave a long talk with you. "

"Any other time, but not now, " replied Wilkinson. 

"Now, and no other time, " persisted the other, clinging fast to his arm. 

"What do you wish to talk about?" said Wilkinson, ceasing his effort torelease himself from the firm grip of his friend. 

"About Cara, " was answered. 

"Go home and make it up with her; that's the best way. She loves you, and you love her; and your love will settle all differences. Andbesides, Harry, you shouldn't talk about these things to other people. The relation between man and wife is too sacred for this. "

"Do you think I talk in this way to everybody? No, indeed!" respondedEllis, in a half-offended tone of voice. "But you're a particularfriend. You know Cara's peculiar temper, and can advise with me as afriend. So come along, I want to have a talk with you. "

"Come where?"

Ellis turned and pointed to a brilliant gas lamp in the next square, that stood in front of a much frequented tavern. 

"No, no; I must go home. " And Wilkinson tried to extricate himself fromthe firm grasp of his friend. But the latter tightened his hold, as hesaid--

"It's of no use. I shall not let you go. So come along with me toParker's. Over a couple of brandy toddies we will discuss this matterof Cara's. "

A vigorous jerk from the hand of Ellis gave the body of Wilkinson amotion in the direction of the tavern. Had his mind been perfectlyclear--had none of the effects of his wine-drinking at Elbridge'sremained, he would have resisted to the end this solicitation, at thehour and under the circumstances. But his mind was not perfectly clear. And so, a few steps being taken by compulsion, he moved on by a sort ofconstrained volition. 

As mentioned above, Wilkinson had nearly reached his own door when heencountered Ellis; was, in fact, so near, that he could see the lightshining from the chamber-window through which, some hours before, hehad marked on the wall the flitting shadow of his wife, as she walkedto and fro, seeking to soothe into slumber her sick and grieving child. For nearly five minutes, he had stood talking with his friend, and thesound of their voices might easily have been heard in his dwelling, ifone had been listening intently there. And one was listening with everysense strung to the acutest perception. Just as Wilkinson moved away, an observer would have seen the door of his house open, and a slenderfemale form bend forth, and look earnestly into the darkness. A momentor two, she stood thus, and then stepped forth quickly, and leaningupon the iron railing of the door steps, fixed eagerly her eyes uponthe slowly receding forms of the two men. 

"John! John!" she called, in half suppressed tones. 

But her voice did not reach the ear of her husband, whose form she wellknew, even in the obscurity of night. 

Gliding down the steps, Mrs. Wilkinson ran a few paces along thepavement, but suddenly stopped as some thought passed through her mind;and, turning, went back to the door she had left. There she stoodgazing after her husband, until she saw him enter the tavern mentionedas being kept by a man named Parker, when, with a heavy, flutteringsigh, she passed into the house, and ascended to the chamber from whichshe had, a few minutes before, come down. 

It was past eleven o'clock. The two domestics had retired, and Mrs. Wilkinson was alone with her sick child. Ella's moan of suffering cameon her ear the instant she re-entered the room, and she stepped quicklyto the crib, and bent over to look into its face. The cheeks of thechild were flushed with fever to a bright crimson, and she was movingher head from side to side, and working her lips as if there wassomething in her mouth. Slight twitching motions of the arms and handswere also noticed by the mother. Her eyes were partly open. 

"Will Ella have a drink of water?" said Mrs. Wilkinson, placing herhand under the child's head, and slightly raising it from the pillow. 

But Ella did not seem to hear. 

"Say--love, will you have some water?"

There was no sign that her words reached the child's ears. 

A deeper shade of trouble than that which already rested on themother's face glanced over it. 

"Ella! Ella!" Mrs. Wilkinson slightly shook the child. 

The only response was the muttering of some incoherent words, and acontinued moaning as if pain were disturbing her sleep. 

The mother now bent low over her child, and eagerly marked theexpression of her face and the character of her breathing. Then shelaid a hand upon her cheek. Instantly it was withdrawn with a quickstart, but as quickly replaced again. 

"What a burning fever!" she murmured. Then she added, in a tone ofanxiety, "How strangely she works her mouth! I don't like this constant rollingof her head. What can it mean? Ella! Ella!"

And she shook the child again. 

"Want some water, love?"

The mother's voice did not appear to reach the locked sense of hearing. 

Mrs. Wilkinson now lifted a glass of water from the bureau near by, andraising the head of Ella with one hand, applied, with the other, thewater to her lips. About a table-spoonful was poured into her mouth. Itwas not swallowed, but ran out upon the pillow. 

"Mercy! mercy! what can ail the child!" exclaimed Mrs. Wilkinson, alook of fear coming into her face. 

A little while she stood over her, and then leaving her place besidethe crib, she hurried out into the passage, and, pausing at the bottomof the stairs leading to the room above, called several times--

"Anna! Anna! Anna!"

But no answer came. The domestic thus summoned had fallen into herfirst sound sleep, and the voice did not penetrate her ears. 

"Anna!" once more called Mrs. Wilkinson. 

There was no response, but the reverberation of her own voice returnedupon the oppressive silence. She now hurried back to her sick child, whose low, troubled moaning had not been hushed for a moment. 

There was no apparent change. Ella lay with her half-opened eyes, showing, by the white line, that the balls were turned up unnaturally;with her crimsoned cheeks, and with the nervous motions of her lips andslight twitchings of her hands, at first noticed with anxiety and alarm. 

Mrs. Wilkinson was but little familiar with sickness in children; andknew not the signs of real danger--or, rather, what unusual signs suchas those now apparent in Ella really indicated. But she wassufficiently alarmed, and stood over the child, with her eyes fixedeagerly upon her. 

Again she tried to arouse her from so strange and unnatural a state, but with as little effect as at first. 

"Oh, my husband!" she at length exclaimed, clasping her hands together, and glancing upward, with tearful eyes, "why are you away from me now?Oh, why did you break your promise to return hours and hours ago?"

Then covering her face with her hands, she sobbed and wept, until, startled by a sharp, unnatural cry from the lips of Ella, her attentionwas once more fixed upon her suffering child. 

CHAPTER III. 

"Now, what will you take?" said Henry Ellis, as he entered, with theweak and yielding Wilkinson, the bar-room of Parker's tavern. 

"Any thing you choose to call for, " replied Wilkinson, whose mind wasturning homeward, and who wished to be there. "In fact, I don't reallywant any thing. Call for two glasses of cold water. These will leaveour heads clear. "

"Water! Ha! ha! That is a good one, Bill"--and Ellis spoke to thebar-tender--"Mix us a couple of stiff brandy toddies. "

The bar-tender nodded and smiled his acceptance of the order, and thetwo men retired to a table that stood in a remote part of the room, atwhich they were soon served with the liquor. 

"Bill mixes the best brandy toddy I ever tasted. He knows hisbusiness, " said Ellis, as he put the glass to his lips. "Isn't it fine?"

"It is very good, " replied Wilkinson, as he sipped the tempting mixture. 

But his thoughts were turning homeward, and he scarcely perceived thetaste of what he drank. Suddenly, he pushed the glass from him, and, making a motion to rise from the table, said--

"Indeed, Ellis, I must go home. My child is sick, and Mary will bedistressed at my absence. Come around to my store, to-morrow, and wewill talk this matter over. Neither you nor I are now in a fit state todiscuss so grave a matter. 

"Sit down, will you!"

This was the reply of Ellis, as he caught quickly the arm of hisfriend, and almost forced him, by main strength, to resume his seat. 

"There, now, " he added, as Wilkinson resumed his seat. "Never put offuntil to-morrow what can as well be done to-day. That is my motto. Iwant to talk with you about Cara, and no time is so good as thepresent. "

"Well, well, " returned Wilkinson, impatiently. "What do you want tosay? Speak quickly, and to the point. "

"Just what I'm going to do. But, first, I must see the bottom of mytumbler. There, now; come, you must do the same. Drink to good oldtimes, and eternal friendship--drink, my fast and faithful friend!"

The warmth of the room and the quick effects of a strong glass ofbrandy toddy were making rapid advances on Ellis's partial state ofinebriety. 

Wilkinson emptied his glass, and then said--

"Speak, now, I'm all attention. "

"Well, you see, Jack, " and Ellis leaned over towards Wilkinsonfamiliarly, and rested his arm upon his knee. "You see, Jack, thathuzzy of mine--if I must call the dear girl by such a name--is leadingme the deuce of a life. Confound her pretty face! I love her, and woulddo almost any thing to please her; but she won't be pleased at anything. She combs my head for me as regularly as the day comes. "

"Hush--hush! Don't talk so of Cara. Her temper may be a littleuncertain, but that is her weakness. She is your wife, and you mustbear with these things. It isn't manly in you to be vexed at everytrifle. "

"Trifle! Humph! I'd like you to have a week of my experience. Youwouldn't talk any more about trifles. "

"You should humour her a great deal, Harry. I am not so sure that youare not quite as much to blame for these differences and fallings outas she is. "

"I wasn't to blame to-night, I am sure. Didn't I bring home Prescott, thinking that she would be delighted to have me sit the evening withher and read so charming an author? But, at the very proposition, sheflared up, and said she didn't want to hear my musty old histories. Humph! A nice way to make a man love his home. Better for her and me, too, I'm thinking, that she had listened to the history, and kept herhusband by her side. "

"And for me, too, " thought Wilkinson. "I should now, at least, be athome with my loving-hearted wife. Ah, me!"

"Now, what am I to do, Jack--say? Give me your advice. "

"The first thing for you to do is to go home, and to go at once. Come!"

And Wilkinson made another effort to rise; but the hand of Ellis borehim down. 

"Stay, stay!" he muttered, impatiently. "Now don't be in such aconfounded hurry. Can't you talk with an old friend for a minute or so?Look here, I've been thinking--let me see--what was I going to say?"

The mind of Ellis was growing more and more confused; nor was the headof Wilkinson so clear as when he entered the bar-room. The strong glassof brandy toddy was doing its work on both of them. 

"Let me see, " went on Ellis, in a wandering way. "I was speaking ofCara--oh, yes, of Cara. Bless her heart, but confound her crookedtemper! Now, what would you advise me to do, my old friend?"

"Go home, I have said, " replied Wilkinson. 

"And get my head combed with a three-legged stool? No, blast me if Ido! I've stayed out this long just to make her sensible of herunkindness to one of the best of husbands--and I'm not going home untilI am dead drunk. I guess that'll bring her to her bearings. Ha! Don'tyou think so, Jack?"

"Good heavens!" was just at this instant exclaimed by one of theinmates of the bar-room, in a low, startled tone of voice. 

"Your wife, as I live!" fell from the lips of Ellis, whose face wasturned towards the entrance of the bar-room. 

Wilkinson sprang to his feet. Just within the door stood a female form, her head uncovered, her under person clad in a white wrapper, and herface colourless as the dress she wore. There was a wild, frightenedlook in her staring eyes. 

"Is Mr. Wilkinson here?" she asked, just as her husband's eyes restedupon her, and her thrilling voice reached his ears. 

With a bound, Wilkinson was at her side. 

"Oh, John! John!" she cried, in a voice of anguish. "Come home! Comequick! Our dear little Ella is dying!"

An instant more, and, to the inmates of the bar-room, the curtain fellupon that startling scene; for Wilkinson and his wife vanished almostas suddenly as if they had sunk together through the floor. 

CHAPTER IV. 

DURING the day on which our story opened, Henry Ellis had obtained froma friend the first volume of Prescott's History of Mexico, then justfrom the press. An hour's perusal of its fascinating pages awakened inhis mind a deep interest. 

"Just the book to read to Cara, " said he to himself, closing thevolume, and laying it aside. "She's too much taken up with merefiction. But here is that truth which is stranger than fiction; and Iam sure she will soon get absorbed in the narrative. "

With his new book, and this pleasant thought in his mind, Ellis tookhis way homeward, after the business of the day was over. As he walkedalong, a friend overtook him, and said, familiarly, as he touched himon the shoulder, "I'm glad to overhaul you so opportunely. Half a dozen times, to-day, Ihave been on the eve of running round to see you, but as often wasprevented. All in good time yet, I hope. I want you to come over to myroom, this evening. There are to be three or four of our friends there, and some good eating and drinking into the bargain. "

"A temptation certainly, " replied Ellis. "No man likes good companybetter than I do; but, I rather think I must forego the pleasure thistime. "

"Why do you say that?"

"I've promised myself another pleasure. "

"Another engagement?"

"Not exactly that. Barker has loaned me the first volume of Prescott'sMexico; and I'm going to spend the evening in reading it to my wife. "

"Any other evening will do as well for that, " returned the friend. "Sopromise me to come around. I can't do without you. "

"Sorry to disappoint you, " said Ellis, firmly. "But, when I once get mymind fixed on a thing, I am hard to change. "

"Perhaps your wife may have some engagement on hand, for the evening, or be disinclined for reading. What then?"

"You will see me at your room, " was the prompt answer of Ellis; and thewords were uttered with more feeling than he had intended to exhibit. The very question brought unpleasant images before his mind. 

"I shall look for you, " said the friend, whose name was Jerome. "Goodevening!"

"Good evening! Say to your friends, if I should not be there, that I amin better company. "

The two men parted, and Ellis kept on his way homeward. Not until thesuggestion of Jerome that his wife might be disinclined to hear himread, did a remembrance of Cara's uncertain temper throw a shade acrosshis feelings. He sighed as he moved onward. 

"I wish she were kinder and more considerate, " he said to himself. "Iknow that I don't always do right; yet, I am not by any means so bad asshe sometimes makes me out. To any thing reasonable, I am always readyto yield. But when she frowns if I light a cigar; and calls me atippler whenever she detects the smell of brandy and water, I growangry and stubborn. Ah, me!"

Ellis sighed heavily. A little way he walked on, and then begancommuning with himself. 

"I don't know"--he went on--"but, may be, I do take a little too muchsometimes. I rather think I must have been drinking too freely when Icame home last week: by the way Cara talked, and by the way she actedfor two or three days afterwards. There may be danger. Perhaps thereis. My head isn't very strong; and it doesn't take much to affect me. Iwish Cara wouldn't speak to me as she does sometimes. I can't bear it. Twice within the last month, she has fairly driven me off to spend myevening in a tavern, when I would much rather have been at home. Ah, me! It's a great mistake. And Cara may find it out, some day, to hersorrow. I like a glass of brandy, now and then; but I'm not quite sofar gone that I must have it whether or no. I'm foolish, I will own, tomind her little, pettish, fretful humours. I ought to be more of a manthan I am. But, I didn't make myself, and can't help feeling annoyed, and sometimes angry, when she is unkind and unreasonable. Going off toa tavern don't mend the matter, I'll admit; but, when I leave thehouse, alone, after nightfall, and in a bad humour, it is the mostnatural thing in the world for me to seek the pleasant company of someof my old friends--and I generally know where to find them. "

Such was the state of mind in which Ellis returned home. 

A word or two will give the reader a better idea of the relation whichHenry Ellis and his wife bore to each other and society. They had beenmarried about six years, and had three children, the oldest a boy, andthe other two girls. Ellis kept a retail dry-goods store, in a smallway. His capital was limited, and his annual profits, therefore, butlight. The consequence was, that, in all his domestic arrangements, theutmost frugality had to be observed. He was a man of strict probity, with some ambition to get ahead in the world. These made him carefuland economical in his expenditures, both at home and in the managementof his business. As a man, he was social in his feelings, but inclinedto be domestic. While unmarried, he had lived rather a gay life, andformed a pretty large acquaintance among young men. His associationsled him into the pretty free use of intoxicating drinks; but thethought of becoming a slave of a vicious appetite never once crossedhis mind with its warning shadow. 

The first trial of Henry Ellis's married life was the imperativenecessity that required him to lay a restraining hand upon his wife'sdisposition to spend money more freely than was justified by theircircumstances. He had indulged her for the period of a whole year, andthe result was so heavy a balance against his expense account, that hebecame anxious and troubled. There must be a change, or his businesswould be crippled, and ultimate ruin follow. As gently as he could, Ellis brought the attention of his wife to this matter. But, she couldnot comprehend, to its full extent, the point he urged. It then becamenecessary for Ellis to hold the purse-strings more tightly than he hadformerly done. This fretted the mind of his wife, and often led her, inthe warmth of the moment of disappointment, to utter unkindexpressions. These hurt Ellis; and, sometimes, made him angry. Thecloud upon Cara's brow, consequent upon these occasionalmisunderstandings, was generally so unpleasant to Ellis, whose heartwas ever wooing the sunshine, let the rays come through almost anymedium, that he would spend his evenings abroad. Temptation, as anatural consequence, was in his way. His convivial character made himseek the company of those who do not always walk the safest paths. Howanxious should be the wife of such a husband to keep him at home; howlight the task would have been for Cara. Alas! that she was so selfish, so self-willed--so blind! The scene that occurred on the evening ofEllis's return home with the book he wished to read for his wife, willgive a fair view of Mrs. Ellis's manner of reacting upon her husband;and his mode of treating her on such occasions. 

It has been seen in what state of feeling the husband returned home. Remembrances of the past brought some natural misgivings to his mind. His face, therefore, wore rather a more subdued expression than usual. Still, he was in a tolerably cheerful frame of mind--in fact, he wasnever moody. To his great relief, Cara met him with a smile, and seemedto be in an unusually good humour. Their sweet babe was lying asleep onher lap; and his other two children were playing about the room. Instantly the sunshine fell warmly again on the heart of Ellis. Hekissed mother and children fervently, and with a deep sense of love. 

"I called to see the bride this afternoon, " said Mrs. Ellis, soon afterher husband came in. 

"Ah, did you?" he answered. "At her new home?"

"Yes. "

"She is well and happy, of course?"

"Oh, yes; happy as the day is long. How could she help being so in sucha little paradise?"

"Love makes every spot a paradise, " said Ellis. 

"Beg your pardon, " replied the wife, with some change in her tone ofvoice. "I'm no believer in that doctrine. I want something more thanlove. External things are of account in the matter; and of veryconsiderable account. "

"They have every thing very handsome, of course, " said Ellis; who wasgenerally wise enough not to enter into a discussion with his wife onsubjects of this kind. 

"Oh, perfect!" replied his wife, "perfect! I never saw a housefurnished with so much taste. I declare it has put me half out ofconceit with things at home. Oh, dear! how common every thing did lookwhen I returned. "

"You must remember that our furniture has been in use for about sixyears, " said Ellis; "and, moreover, that it was less costly than yourfriend's, in the beginning. Her husband and your's are in differentcircumstances. "

"I know all about that, " was returned, with a toss of the head. "I knowthat we are dreadfully poor, and can hardly get bread for our children. "

"We are certainly not able to furnish as handsomely as Mr. And Mrs. Beaumont. There is no denying that, Cara. Still, we are able to haveevery real comfort of life; and therewith let us try to be content. Todesire what we cannot possess, will only make us unhappy. "

"You needn't preach to me, " retorted Mrs. Ellis, her face slightlyflushing. "When I want to hear a sermon, I'll go to church. "

Mr. Ellis made no answer, but, lifting his babe from its mother's lap, commenced tossing it in the air and singing a pleasant nursery ditty. Caroline sat in a moody state of mind for some minutes, and then leftthe room to give some directions about tea. On her return, Ellis said, in as cheerful a voice as if no unpleasant incident had transpired, "Oh! I had forgotten to say, Cara, that Mr. Hemming and his wife havereturned from Boston. They will be around to see us some evening thisweek. "

"Hum-m--well. " This was the cold, moody response of Mrs. Ellis. 

"Mr. Hemming says that his wife's health is much better than it was. "

"Does he?" very coldly uttered. 

"He seemed very cheerful. "

Mrs. Ellis made no comment upon this remark of her husband, and thelatter said nothing more. 

Tea was soon announced, and the husband and wife went, with their twooldest children, to partake of their evening meal. A cloud still hungover Caroline's features. Try as Ellis would to feel indifferent to hiswife's unhappy state of mind, his sensitiveness to the fact became moreand more painful every moment. The interest at first felt in hischildren, gradually died away, and, by the time supper was over, he wasin a moody and fretted state, yet had he manfully striven to keep hismind evenly balanced. 

On returning to the sitting-room, the sight of the book he had broughthome caused Ellis to make a strong effort to regain hisself-possession. He had set his heart on reading that book to Cara, because he was sure she would get interested therein; and he hoped, byintroducing this better class of reading, to awaken a healthierappetite for mental food than she now possessed. So he occupied himselfwith a newspaper, while his wife undressed the children and put them tobed. It seemed to him a long time before she was ready to sit down withher sewing at the table, upon which the soft, pleasant light of theirshaded lamp was falling. At last she came, with her small work-basketin her mind. Topmost of all its contents was a French novel. When Ellissaw this, there came doubts and misgivings across his heart. 

"Cara, " said he quickly, and in a tone of forced cheerfulness, takingup, at the same time, his volume of Prescott, --"I brought this bookhome on purpose to read aloud. I dipped into it, to-day, and found itso exceedingly interesting, that I deferred the pleasure of its perusaluntil I could share it with you. "

Now, under all the circumstances, it cost Ellis considerable effort toappear cheerful and interested, while saying this. 

"What book is it?" returned Cara, in a chilling tone, while her eyeswere fixed upon her husband's face, with any thing but a look of love. 

"The first volume of Prescott's History of Mexico, one of the mostcharming"--

"Pho! I don't want to hear your dull old histories!" said Cara, with acontemptuous toss of the head. 

"Dull old histories!" retorted Ellis, whose patience was now gone. "Dull old histories! You don't know what you are talking about. There'smore real interest in this book than in all the French novels that everwere invented to turn silly women's heads. "

Of course, Mrs. Ellis "fired up" at this. She was just at the rightpoint of ignition to blaze out at a single breath of reproof. We willnot repeat the cutting language she used to her husband. Enough, that, in the midst of the storm that followed, Ellis started up, and bowing, with mock ceremony, said--

"I wish you good evening, madam. And may I see you in a better humourwhen we meet again. "

A moment afterwards, and Caroline was alone with her own perturbedfeelings and unpleasant, self-rebuking thoughts. Still, she could nothelp muttering, as a kind of justification of her own conduct--

"A perfect Hotspur! It's rather hard that a woman can't speak to herhusband, but he must fling himself off in this way. Why didn't he readhis history, if it was so very interesting, and let me alone. I don'tcare about such things, and he knows it. "

After this, Mrs. Ellis fell into a state of deep and gloomy abstractionof mind. Many images of the past came up to view, and, among them, somethat it was by no means pleasant to look upon. This was not the firsttime that her husband had gone off in a pet; but in no instance had hecome home with a mind as clear as when he left her. A deep sigh heavedthe wife's bosom as she remembered this; and, for some moments, shesuffered from keen self-reproaches. But, an accusing spirit quicklyobliterated this impression. In her heart she wrote many bitter thingsagainst her husband, and magnified habits and peculiarities intoserious faults. 

Poor, unhappy wife! How little did she comprehend the fact that herhusband's feet were near the brink of a precipice, and that a fearfulabyss of ruin was below; else would she have drawn him lovingly back, instead of driving him onward to destruction. 

CHAPTER V. 

ELLIS, excited and angry, not only left his wife's presence, but thehouse. Repulsed by one pole, he felt the quick attraction of another. Not a moment did he hesitate, on gaining the street, but turned hissteps toward the room of Jerome, where a party of gay young men were toassemble for purposes of conviviality. 

We will not follow him thither, nor describe the manner of hisreception. We will not picture the scene of revelry, nor record thecoarse jests that some of the less thoughtful of the company venturedto make on the appearance of Ellis in their midst--for, to most of hisfriends, it was no secret that his wife's uncertain temper often causedhim to leave his home in search of more congenial companionship. Enough, that at eleven o'clock, Ellis left the house of Jerome, muchexcited by drink. 

The pure, cool night air, as it bathed the heated temples of HenryEllis, so far sobered him by the time he reached his own door, that adistant remembrance of what had occurred early in the evening waspresent to his thoughts; and, still beyond this, a remembrance of howhe had been received on returning at a late hour in times gone by. Hishand was in his pocket, in search of his dead-latch key, when hesuddenly retreated from the door, muttering to himself--

"I'm not going to stand a curtain lecture! There now! I'll wait untilshe's asleep. "

Saying which, he drew a cigar and match-box from his pocket, andlighting the former, placed it between his lips, and moved leisurelydown the street. 

The meeting with Wilkinson has already been described. 

Scarcely less startled was Ellis at the sudden apparition of Mrs. Wilkinson than her husband had been. He remained only a few momentsafter they retired. Then he turned his steps again homeward, with aclearer head and heavier heart than when he refused to enter, in fearof what he called a "curtain lecture. "

Many painful thoughts flitted through his mind as he moved along with aquick pace. 

"I wish Cara understood me better, or that I had more patience withher, " he said to himself. "This getting angry with her, and going offto drinking parties and taverns is a bad remedy for the evil, I willconfess. It is wrong in me, I know. Very wrong. But I can't bear to besnapped, and snubbed up, and lectured in season and out of season. I'monly flesh and blood. Oh dear! I'm afraid evil will come of it in theend. Poor Wilkinson! What a shock the appearance of his wife must havegiven him! It set every nerve in my body to quivering. And it was allmy fault that he wasn't at home with his watching wife and sick child. Ah me! How one wrong follows another!"

Ellis had reached his own door. Taking out his night-key, he applied itto the latch; but the door did not open. It had been locked. 

"Locked out, ha!" he ejaculated quickly; and with a feeling of anger. His hand was instantly on the bell-pull, and he jerked it three or fourtimes vigorously; the loud and continued ringing of the bell soundingin his ears where he stood on the doorstep without. A little while hewaited, and then the ringing was renewed, and with a more prolongedviolence than at first. Then he listened, bending his ear close to thedoor. But he could detect no movement in the house. 

"Confound it!" came sharp and impatiently from his lips. "If I thoughtthis was designed, I'd--"

He checked himself, for just at that instant he saw a faint glimmer oflight through the glass over the door. Then he perceived the distantshuffle of feet along the passage floor. There was a fumbling at thekey and bolts, and then the half-asleep and half-awake servant admittedhim. 

"I didn't know you was out, sir, " said the servant, "or I wouldn't havelocked the door when I went to bed. "

Ellis made no reply, but entered and ascended to his chamber. Cara wasin bed and asleep, or apparently so. Her husband did not fail toobserve a certain unsteady motion of the lashes that lay over herclosed eyes; and he was not far wrong in his impression that she wasawake, and had heard his repeated ringing for admission. His beliefthat such was the case did not lessen the angry feelings produced bythe fact of having the key of his own door turned upon him. 

But slumber soon locked his senses into oblivion, and he did not awakeuntil the sun was an hour above the horizon. 

The moment Mrs. Wilkinson emerged, with her husband, from the bar-roomof Parker's tavern, she fled along the street like a swift glidingspirit, far outstripping in speed her thoroughly sobered and alarmedhusband, who hurried after her with rapid steps. The door of the househad been left open when she came forth in the anguish of her wild alarmto summon her husband, and she re-entered and flew up-stairs withoutthe pause of an instant. Wilkinson was but a moment or two later inreaching the house, and in gaining their chamber. The sight that methis eyes sent the blood coldly to his heart. The mother had alreadysnatched the child from the crib in which she had left her, and wasstanding with her close to the lamp, the light from which fell stronglyupon her infantile face, that was fearfully distorted. The eyes wereopen and rolled up, until the entire pupil was hidden. The lips werewhite with their firm compression; and yet they had a quick nervousmotion. 

"Oh, John! John! what is the matter?" cried Mrs. Wilkinson, as shelooked first upon the face of her child, and then into that of herhusband, with a most anxious and imploring glance. "Is she dying?"

"No, dear, I think not, " returned Wilkinson, with a composure of voicethat belied the agitation of his feelings. 

"Oh! what is the matter? Yes! Yes! I'm sure she's dying. Oh! run quick!quick! for the doctor. "

"First, " said Wilkinson, who was becoming, every moment, moreself-possessed, and who now saw that the child, who was teething, hadbeen thrown into spasms, "let us do what we can for her. She is inconvulsions, and we must get her into a bath of hot water as quickly aspossible. I will call up Anna. Don't be alarmed, " he added, in asoothing voice: "there is no immediate danger. "

"Are you sure, John? Are you sure? Oh! I'm afraid she is dying! Myprecious, precious babe!" And the mother clasped her child passionatelyto her bosom. 

In the course of ten or fifteen minutes, a vessel of hot water wasready, and into this the still writhing form of the convulsed child wasplaced. Then Wilkinson hurried off for their physician. Half an hourafterwards he returned with him. The good effects of the hot-bath werealready perceptible. The face of the child had resumed its placidsweetness of expression, and there was but slight convulsive twitchingin the limbs. The doctor remained with them, applying, from time totime, appropriate remedies, until all the painful signs whichoccasioned so much alarm had vanished, and then left, promising to callearly on the next morning. 

It was past one o'clock. The physician had left, and the domesticsretired to their own apartment. Mr. And Mrs. Wilkinson were alone withtheir still unconscious child, that lay in a deep, unnatural slumber. They were standing, side by side, and bending over the bed on whichlittle Ella lay. Wilkinson had drawn his arm around his wife, and shehad laid her head upon his shoulder. Each heard the beating of theother's heart, as thus they stood, silent, yet with troubled thoughtsand oppressed feelings. 

A tear fell upon the hand of Wilkinson, and the warm touch, coming asit did in that moment of intense excitement, caused a quick thrill topass through his nerves; and he started involuntarily. Words ofconfession and promises for the future were on his tongue; but, theirutterance, just at that moment, seemed untimely, and he merely answeredthe mute appeal of tears with a fervent, heart-warm kiss, that, if thepower of his will could have gone with it, would have filled the heartof his wife with joy unspeakable. Scarcely had his lips touched hers, ere she started up, and flung her arms around his neck, sobbing--

"Oh, my husband! My husband!"

If she had designed to say more, utterance failed, or was checked; forshe hid her face on his bosom, and wept like a heart-broken child. 

How sincere was Wilkinson's repentance for past errors in that solemnhour! and how fervent was the promise of future amendment!

"I were worse than an evil spirit, to lay grief upon that gentle heart, or to make of those loving eyes a fountain of tears!"

Such was the mental ejaculation of Wilkinson, and he meant all that hesaid. 

"God bless you, dearest!" he murmured in her ear. --"God bless you, andtake this shadow quickly from your heart! Believe me, Mary, that no actof mine will ever dim its bright surface again. "

Mrs. Wilkinson slowly raised her pale, tear-moistened face, and fixed, for a few moments, her eyes in those of her husband's. There was moreof confidence and hope in them than pages of written language couldexpress. Then her face was again hid on his bosom; while his armclasped her slender form with a more earnest pressure. 

CHAPTER VI. 

MORNING found little Ella, though much exhausted by the severe strugglethrough which she had passed, so far restored that her parents ceasedto feel that anxiety with which for hours, as they hung over her, theirhearts had been painfully oppressed. 

It could not but be that a shadow would rest on the gentle face of Mrs. Wilkinson, as she met her husband at the breakfast table; for it wasimpossible to obliterate the memory of such a night of trial and alarmas the one through which she had just passed. And yet, with a strongeffort, she strove to appear cheerful, and when she spoke to herhusband, it was with a forced smile and a tone of tenderness thattouched and subdued his feelings; for he well understood that, in acertain sense, she was merely acting. 

But few words passed between them during the brief morning meal. As thehour was later than usual, Wilkinson found it necessary to hurry off tohis place of business; so, rising before his wife left the table, hekissed her pale lips, and, without venturing to make a remark, left theroom. 

The door had scarcely closed upon him, ere a tear stole out from thesad eyes of Mrs. Wilkinson. A few moments she sat in statue-likestillness, then there was a quick glancing of her eye upwards, whilethe motion of her lips showed that she asked strength for herself, orprotection for one whom she loved better than herself. 

It was a regular custom with Wilkinson to stop at a drinking-house onhis way to his store, and get a glass of brandy. This was an afternoonas well as a morning custom, which had been continued so long that itwas now a habit. Yet he was not aware of this fact, and, if he hadthought about the custom, would have regarded it as one easilyabandoned. He had a glimpse of his error on the present occasion. 

To do a thing by habit is to do it without reflection; and herein liesthe dangerous power of habit; for, when we act from confirmed habit, itis without thought as to the good or evil to result from our action. Thus had Wilkinson been acting for months as regards his regular glassof brandy in the morning and afternoon, while passing from his dwellingto his store. Not until now was he in the least conscious that habitwas gaining an undue power over him. 

As the eyes of Wilkinson rested upon the form of a certain elegantcoloured glass lamp standing in front of a well-known drinking-house, he was conscious of a desire for his accustomed draught of brandy andwater; but, at the same instant, there came a remembrance of thepainful occurrences of the evening previous, and he said tohimself--"One such lesson ought to make me hate brandy, and every thingelse that can rob me of a true regard for the happiness of Mary. "

Yet, even as he said this, habit, disturbed in the stronghold of itspower, aroused itself, and furnished him with an argument thatinstantly broke down his forming resolution. This argument was his lossof rest, the consequent debility arising therefrom, and the actual needof his system for something stimulating, in order to enable him toenter properly upon the business of the day. 

So habit triumphed. Wilkinson, without even pausing at the door, entered the drinking-house and obtained his accustomed glass of brandy. 

"I feel a hundred per cent. Better, " said he, as he emerged from thebar-room and took his way to his store. "That was just what my systemwanted. "

Yet, if he felt, for a little while, better as regarded his bodilysensations, the act did not leave him more comfortable in mind. Hisinstinctive consciousness of having done wrong in yielding to thedesire for brandy, troubled him. 

"I shall have to break up this habit entirely, " he remarked to himselfduring the morning, as his thought returned, again and again, to thesubject. "I don't believe I'm in any particular danger; but, then, ittroubles Mary; and I can't bear to see her troubled. "

While he thus communed with himself, his friend Ellis dropped in. 

"I meant to have called earlier, " said Ellis, "to ask about your sickchild, but was prevented by a customer. She is better, I hope?"

"Oh, yes, much better, thank you. "

"What was the matter?" inquired Ellis. 

"She is teething, and was thrown into convulsions. "

"Ah! yes. Well, I never was so startled in my life as by the appearanceof Mrs. Wilkinson. And the child is better?"

"When I came away this morning, I left her sleeping calmly and sweetly;and, what is more, the points of two teeth had made their way throughthe red and swollen gums. "

"All right, then. But how is Mary?"

"Not very well, of course. How could she be, after such a night ofanxiety and alarm? The fact is, Harry, I was to blame for having lefther alone during the evening, knowing, as I did, that Ella was not verywell. "

Ellis shrugged his shoulders, as he replied--"Not much excuse for you, I must admit. I only wish the attraction at my home was as strong as itis at yours: Parker's would not see me often. As for you, my oldfriend, if I speak what I think, I must say that your inclination to goout in the evening needs correcting. I spend most of my evenings fromhome, because home is made unpleasant; you leave your wife, because alove of conviviality and gay company entices you away. Such company Iknow to be dangerous, and especially so for you. There now, as afriend, I have talked out plainly. What do you think of it? Ain't Iright?"

"I don't know, " replied Wilkinson, musingly. "Perhaps you are. I havethought as much, sometimes, myself. "

"I know I'm right, " said Ellis, positively. "So take a friend's advice, and never go out after sundown, except in company with your wife. "

There was a change from gravity to mock seriousness in the voice ofEllis as he closed this sentence. Wilkinson compressed his lips andshook his head. 

"Can't always be tied to my wife's apron-string. Oh, no! haven't cometo that. "

"With such a wife, and your temperament, it is the best place for you, "said Ellis, laughing. 

"May be it is; but, for all that, I like good company too well to spendall my time with her. "

"Isn't she good company?"

"Oh, yes; but, then, variety is the very spice of life, you know. "

"True enough. Well, we'll not quarrel about the matter. Come! let's goand take a drink; I'm as dry as a fish. "

"I don't care if I do, " was the instinctive reply of Wilkinson, whotook up his hat as he spoke. 

The two men left the store, and were, a little while after, taking alunch at a public house, and chatting over their brandy and water. 

At the usual dinner hour, Wilkinson returned home. He did not fullyunderstand the expression of his wife's face, as she looked at him onhis entrance: it was a look of anxious inquiry. She sat with Ella uponher lap: the child was sleeping. 

"How is our little pet?" he asked, as he bent over, first kissing hiswife, and then touching his lips lightly to the babe's forehead. 

"She's been in a heavy sleep for most of the time since morning, "replied Mrs. Wilkinson, turning her face aside, so that her husbandcould not see its changed expression. 

Mr. Wilkinson's habitual use of brandy had long been a source oftrouble to his wife. In reviewing the painful incidents of the previousevening, a hope had sprung up in her heart that the effect would be toawaken his mind to a sense of his danger, cause him to reflect, andlead to a change of habit. Alas! how like a fairy frost-work fabricmelted this hope away, as the strong breath of her husband fell uponher face. She turned away and sighed--sighed in her spirit, but notaudibly; for, even in her pain and disappointment, active love promptedto concealment, lest the shadow that came over her should repel the oneshe so earnestly sought to win from his path of danger. 

Ah, who can tell the effort it cost that true-hearted wife to call upthe smile with which, scarcely a moment afterwards, she looked into herhusband's face!

"It is no worse, if no better, " was her sustaining thought; and sheleaned upon it, fragile reed as it was. 

CHAPTER VII. 

"COME home early, dear, " said Mrs. Wilkinson, resting her hand upon herhusband, and looking into his face with a loving smile. "The time seemsso long when you are away!"

"Does it?" returned Wilkinson, and he kissed his wife. Yet, did not thetenderness of tone with which he spoke, nor the act of love whichaccompanied it, hide from the quick perception of Mary the fact thather husband's thoughts were elsewhere. 

"Oh, yes, " she replied. "I count the hours when you are absent. You'llbe home early to tea?"

"Certainly I will. There now, let your heart be at rest. "

And Wilkinson retired. This was after dinner, on the day that succeededthe opening of our story. 

As in the morning, he found it the most natural thing in the world tocall in at a certain drinking house and get his accustomed glass ofbrandy. As he entered the door of the bar-room, a man named Carltonstepped forward to meet him, with extended hand. He was an oldacquaintance, with whom Wilkinson had often passed an agreeablehour, --one of your bar-room loungers, known as good fellows, who, whilethey exhibit no apparent means of support, generally have money tospend, and plenty of time on their hands. 

"Glad to see you, Wilkinson; 'pon my soul! Where have you kept yourselffor this month of Sundays?"

Such was the familiar greeting of Carlton. 

"And it does one's eyes good to look upon your pleasant face, " returnedWilkinson, as he grasped the other's hand. "Where have you keptyourself?"

"Oh, I'm always on hand, " said Carlton, gayly. "It's you who are shutup, and hid away from the pure air and bright sunshine in a gloomystore, delving like a mole in the dark. The fact is, old fellow! youare killing yourself. Turning gray, as I live!"

And he touched, with his fingers, the locks of Wilkinson, in which afew gray lines were visible. 

"Bad! bad!" he went on, shaking his head. "And you are growing as thinas a lath. When did you ride out?"

"Oh, not for two months past. I've been too closely occupied withbusiness. "

"Business!" there was a slight air of contempt in Carlton's voice andmanner. "I hate to hear this everlasting cant, if I must so call it, about business; as if there were nothing else in the world to think orcare about. Men bury themselves between four brick walls, and toil frommorning until night, like prison-slaves; and if you talk to them aboutan hour's recreation for body and mind, all you can get out of themis--'Business! business!' Pah! I'm out of all patience with it. Lifewas made for enjoyment as well as toil. But come, what'll you drink?I've preached to you until I'm as dry as a chip. "

The two men stepped to the bar and drank. As they turned away, Carltondrew his arm within that of Wilkinson, saying, as he did so--

"As it is an age since I saw you, I must prolong the pleasure of thismeeting. Your work is done for the day, of course. "

"No, I can't just say that it is. "

"Well, I can then. If you've been immuring yourself, as you have onyour own confession, for some two months, or more, an afternoon withgood company is indispensable. So, consider this a holiday, and thinkno more of bags, boxes, cash-book, or ledger. I bought a splendidtrotter yesterday, and am going to try his speed. You are a first-ratejudge of horse-flesh, and I want your opinion. So, consider yourselfengaged for a flying trip to Mount Airy. "

"You are a tempter, " said Wilkinson, laughing. 

"Oh, no. A friend, who will give health to your veins, and life to yourspirit. "

"Let me see, " said Wilkinson, now turning his thoughts upon hisbusiness--"if there isn't something special that requires my attention. Yes, " he added, after thinking for a few moments--"a customer promisedto be in after dinner. He is from the country, and bought a good billlast season. You will have to excuse me, Carlton. I'll go with youto-morrow. "

"Indeed, and I shall do no such thing, " was promptly answered. "Letyour customers call in the morning--always the best time for business. Men don't buy in the afternoon. "

"My experience says differently. "

"A fig for your experience! No, no, my good friend. You're booked for aride with me this very afternoon; so let your business and customerstake care of themselves. Health is better than dollars; and length ofdays than great possessions. There's wisdom in miniature for you. Wouldn't I make a capital preacher, ha?"

"But Carlton"--

"But me no buts, my hearty!" and Carlton slapped Wilkinson on theshoulder as he spoke, in a familiar manner. "You're my prisoner for therest of the day. Do you understand that?"

"You've bought a fast trotter, have you?" said Wilkinson, after a briefbut hurried self-communion, the end of which was a determination totake the afternoon for pleasure, and let his customer call in themorning. 

"I have; and the prettiest animal your eyes ever looked upon. "

"Fleet as an arrow?"

"Ay; as the very wind. But you shall have a taste of his quality. Socome along. Time passes. "

The two men left the tavern, and went to the stable where Carlton's newhorse was kept. The animal was soon in harness. 

Four hours afterwards, the last rays of the setting sun came throughthe windows of a room, in which were seated, at a table, Carlton andWilkinson. Liquor and glasses were on the table, and cards in the handsof the men. Wilkinson appeared excited, but Carlton was calm andself-possessed. The former had been drinking freely; but the latterexhibited not the smallest sign of inebriation. A single five-dollarbill lay beside Wilkinson; a dozen bills and two gold coins were besidethe other. They were playing for the last stake. Nervously didWilkinson lay card after card upon the table, while, with the mostperfect coolness, his adversary played his hand, a certainty of winningapparent in every motion. And he did win. 

"Curse my luck!" exclaimed Wilkinson, grinding his teeth together, asthe last five-dollar bill he had with him passed into the hands of hisvery particular friend. 

There was more than "luck" against him, if he had but known it. 

"The fortune of war, " smilingly replied the winner. "The race is notalways to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, you know. You playedwell--very well; never better within my knowledge. But, as you say, luck was against you. And, by the way, what a curious and uncertainthing this luck is! I've seen men lose at every turn of the card, untilthey had parted with thousands; and then, on a borrowed dollar, perhaps, start again, and not only get every thing back, but breaktheir antagonists. This is an every-day occurrence, in fact. "

Wilkinson had risen from the table, and was pacing the room in afretful, impatient manner. Suddenly he stopped. A light flashed overhis face. Then, sitting down, he snatched up a pen, and writing on aslip of paper--"Due Andrew Carlton $20, " signed it with his name. 

Carlton saw every letter and word as they left the pen, and ere thelast flourish was made to the signature, had selected four five-dollarbills from the pile beside him. Simultaneously with the motion ofWilkinson's hand, in pushing to him this memorandum of debt, was themotion of his hand in furnishing the sum required. 

"Not the man to be frightened at a little adverse fortune, I see, "remarked the cunning tempter. "Well, I do like a man who never canacknowledge himself beaten. The timid and easily discouraged are soonleft far behind in the world's race--and they deserve to be. "

Wilkinson did not reply. Another deal was made, and again the two menbent over the table in their unequal contest. 

In less than half an hour, the money obtained from Carlton had goneback to him. 

By this time twilight had fallen. 

"Nearly eight o'clock, as I live!" muttered Wilkinson. He had drawnforth his watch. "I had no idea of this. And we are ten miles from thecity!"

A thought of his anxiously waiting wife flitted across his mind. Heremembered her last pleading injunction for him to come home early, andthe promise he had given. Alas! like so many more of his promises toher, made to be broken. 

"Shall we return now; or order supper here?" said Carlton, in his blandway. 

"I must go back immediately, " replied Wilkinson. "It is an hour laterthan I supposed. I was to have been home early this evening. "

"It is too late now to join your family at tea. They have given you outbefore this. So, I think we'd better order supper here. The moon isfull, and it will be almost as clear as daylight; and much pleasanterriding, for the dew will keep down the dust. What say you?"

The end was, Wilkinson yielded. 

"Not down in the mouth, because of this little run of ill-luck?" saidCarlton, in a bantering way, as he saw a cloud settling over the faceof his victim. 

Lights had been brought in, and the two men still remained seated bythe table at which they had been playing, awaiting the preparation ofsupper. 

"I'm never down in the mouth, " replied Wilkinson, forcing a smile tohis countenance. "Better luck next time, has always been my motto. "

"And it will carry you safely through the world. Try another glass ofbrandy. "

"No--I've taken enough already. "

"It isn't every man who knows when he has enough, " returned the other. "I've often wished that I knew exactly the right gauge. "

And, as Carlton spoke, he poured some brandy into a glass, and, addinga little water, affected to take a deep draught thereof; but, thoughthe glass was held long to his mouth, only a small portion of thecontents passed his lips. In replacing the tumbler on the table, hemanaged to give it a position behind the water-pitcher where the eye ofWilkinson could not rest upon it. He need hardly have taken thistrouble, for his companion was too much absorbed in his own thoughts tonotice a matter like this. 

"They're a long time in getting supper, " remarked Carlton, in awell-affected tone of impatience. "What is the time now?"

Wilkinson drew forth his watch, and, after glancing upon the face, replied--

"Ten minutes after eight. "

"We shall have it pretty soon now, I suppose. They don't understand thedouble quick time movement out here. "

As Carlton said this, his eyes rested, with more than a mere passinginterest, on the gold lever that Wilkinson, instead of returning to hispocket, retained in one hand, while with the other he toyed with thekey and chain in a half-abstracted manner. 

For the space of nearly a minute, neither of the men spoke, but thethought of each was at the same point. 

"That's a beautiful watch, " at length Carlton ventured to say. Therewas a well disguised indifference in his tones. 

"It ought to be, " was the reply of Wilkinson. 

"What did it cost you?"

"One hundred and forty dollars. "

"Is it a good time-keeper?"

"First-rate. It hasn't varied a minute in six months. "

"Just such a watch as I would like to own. I've had terrible bad luckwith watches. "

This was a kind of feeler. 

No reply was made by Wilkinson, although an offer to sell trembled onhis tongue. He still kept the watch in his hand, and toyed with the keyand chain, as before, in an absent manner. 

"Could you be tempted to sell?" finally asked Carlton. 

"I don't know. Perhaps I might, "--said Wilkinson. He drew his breathdeeply as he spoke. 

"Or, perhaps you would trade?" and Carlton now produced his gold lever. "Mine is a very good watch, though not so valuable as yours. It keepsfair time, however. I paid a hundred dollars for it three or four yearsago. "

A mutual examination of watches took place. 

"Well--what do you say to a trade?"

The servant appeared at this juncture, and announced supper. The twowatches were returned to their respective places of deposit, and thetwo men proceeded to the dining-room. Here the traffic, just begun, wasrenewed and completed. The watches were exchanged, and Wilkinsonreceived sixty dollars "boot. "

"Shall I order the horse brought out?" asked Carlton, as they arose, about half an hour afterwards, from the supper-table. 

"Yes; if you please. "

This was not said with much promptness of tone; a fact instantly notedby the ear of Carlton. 

"Well, I'm ready. Come--let's have a drink before we go!"

The two men stepped to the bar and drank. Then they lingered, each witha lighted cigar, and finally withdrew--to proceed to the city? No. Toreturn to their room up-stairs, and renew their unequal contest. Thesixty dollars which Wilkinson had received were staked, and soon passedover to his adversary. Rendered, now, desperate by his losses and thebrandy which inflamed his brain, he borrowed, once more, on hisdue-bill--this time to the amount of several hundred dollars. Hisill-success continued. 

It was nearly eleven o'clock, when Wilkinson started up from the table, exclaiming, as he threw the cards upon the floor--

"Fool! fool! fool! One step more, and I am ruined. Carlton!" And hefixed his eyes almost fiercely upon his companion. 

"Carlton! I thought you my friend, but find, when it is almost too lateto profit by the discovery, that you are a tempter. Ay! and worse thana tempter. Pure air and the bright sunshine! Is this your health formind and body? Oh! weak, weak, unstable one that I am! Poor Mary!" Thiswas said in a low, mournful, and scarcely audible voice. "Thus has mypromise to you vanished into thin air!"

As Wilkinson said this, he turned away and left the room. Carlton wasin no hurry to follow. When, at length, he came down, and made inquiryfor the one he had dealt by so treacherously, the man, who was shuttingthe windows of the bar-room, and about locking up for the night, replied that he had not seen him. 

"Not seen him?" he asked, in a tone of surprise. 

"No, sir. He didn't come in here. "

The hostler was aroused from his sleeping position on a bench in thecorner, and directed by Carlton to bring out his buggy. During the timehe was away, the latter made a hurried search in and around the house. Not finding the object thereof, he muttered, in an under tone, a fewwicked oaths; then, jumping into his vehicle, he put whip to his horse, and dashed off towards the city. He had Wilkinson's due-bills in hispocket for various sums, amounting, in all, to nearly two thousanddollars!

CHAPTER VIII. 

ALMOST motionless, with her sleeping babe upon her lap, sat Mrs. Wilkinson for nearly half an hour after her husband left the house. Shesaw nothing that was around her--heard nothing--felt nothing. Not eventhe breathings of her sleeping infant reached her ear; nor was sheconscious of the pressure of its body against her own. Fixed in adreamy, inward gaze were her eyes; and her soul withdrew itself fromthe portal at which, a little while before, it hearkened into the worldof nature. At last there came a motion of the eyelids--a quiveringmotion--then they closed, slowly, over the blue orbs beneath; and soonafter a tear trembled out to the light from behind the barriers thatsought to retain them. A deep, fluttering sigh succeeded to this signof feeling. Then her lips parted, and she spoke audibly to herself. 

"Oh, that I knew how to win him back from the path of danger! He doesnot love his home; and yet how have I striven to make it attractive!How much have I denied myself! and how much yielded to and thought ofhim! He is always kind to me; and he--yes--I know he loves me; but--ah!"

The low voice trembled back sighing into silence. Still, for a longtime, the unhappy wife sat almost as motionless as if in sleep. Then, as some thought grew active towards a purpose in her mind, she arose, and laying Ella on the bed, began busying herself in some householdduties. 

The afternoon passed slowly away, yet not for a moment was the thoughtof her husband absent from the mind of Mrs. Wilkinson. 

"What ought I to do? How shall I make his home sufficiently attractive?"

This was her over and over again repeated question; and her thoughtsbent themselves eagerly for some answer upon which her heart might restwith even a small degree of hope. 

The prolonged, intense anxiety and alarm of the previous night, addedto bodily fatigue and loss of rest, were not without their effect uponMrs. Wilkinson. Early in the day she suffered from lassitude and asense of exhaustion; and, after dinner, a slight headache was added;this increased hourly, and by four o'clock was almost blinding in itsviolence. Still, she tried to forget herself, and what she suffered inthinking about and devising some means of saving her husband from thedangers that lay hidden from his own view about his footsteps. 

"If I could only add some new attraction to his home!" she murmured toherself, over and over again. 

Sometimes she would hold her temples with both her hands, in the vaineffort to still, by pressure, the throbbing arteries within, while shecontinued to think of her husband. 

As tea-time drew near, Mrs. Wilkinson left Ella in the care of adomestic, and went into the kitchen to prepare some delicacy for theevening meal of which she knew her husband was fond; this engaged herfor half an hour, and the effort increased the pain in her aching head. 

The usual time at which Mr. Wilkinson came home arrived, and his wife, who had returned to her chamber, sat with her babe on her bosom, listening for the well-known welcome sound of her husband's footstepsin the passage below. Time glided by, yet she waited and listened invain; and to the pleasant thoughts of the influence her love was tothrow around him on that very evening, to keep him at home, began tosucceed a fear, which made her heart faint, that he would not come homeat all; or, at least, not until a late hour. 

The sun went down, and stealthily the sober twilight began to fall, bringing with it shadows and forebodings for the heart of the anxiouswife. 

How vainly she waited and watched! The twilight was lost in darkness, and yet her eagerly listening ear failed to note the well-known soundof her husband's footfall on the pavement, as she stood, listening atthe open window. 

"Oh! what can keep him so long away!"

How often did these words come sighing from her lips, yet there was noanswer. Alas! how to the very winds were flung the pleasant hopes shehad cherished--cherished with a sense of fear and trembling--during theafternoon. 

Night closed in, and the time wore on steadily, minute by minute, andhour by hour, until the poor wife was almost wild with suspense andanxiety. The dainties she had so thoughtfully and lovingly prepared forher husband remained untasted, and had now become cold andunpalatable--were, in fact, forgotten. Food she had not, herself, tasted. Once or twice a servant had come to know if she would have teaserved; but she merely answered--"Not until Mr. Wilkinson returns. "

Nine--ten--eleven o'clock; still Mrs. Wilkinson was alone. Sometimesshe moved restlessly about her chamber; or wandered, like a perturbedspirit, from room to room; and, sometimes in mere exhaustion, woulddrop into a chair or sink across the bed, and sit or lie as motionlessas if in a profound sleep. 

Ah! could her husband have looked in upon her, but for a few moments;could he have seen the anguish of her pale face; the fixed and dreamyexpression of her tearful eyes; the grieving arch of the lips heloved--could he have seen and comprehended all she suffered and all shefeared, it must have won him back from his selfish folly. And how manywives have suffered all this, and more! How many still suffer! Erranthusband, pause, look upon the picture we have presented, and think ofthe many, many heart-aches you have given the tender, long-suffering, loving one who clings to you yet so closely, and who, for your sake, would even lay down, if needful, her very life. 

Happily for Mrs. Wilkinson, her child lay in a sound sleep; for, withthe appearance of the edges of two teeth through her red and swollengums, the feverish excitement of her system yielded to a healthyreaction. 

Twelve o'clock was rung out clearly upon the hushed air of midnight;and yet the poor wife was alone. One o'clock found her in a state ofagonized alarm, standing at the open street-door, and hearkening, eagerly, first in one direction and then in another; yet all invain--for the absent one came not. 

It was nearly two o'clock, and Mrs. Wilkinson, in the impotence of herprolonged and intense anxiety and fear, had thrown herself, with agroan, across her bed, when a sound in the street caught her ear. Instantly she started up, while a thrill ran through every nerve. Feetwere on the door-steps; a key was in the lock--a moment more, and thedoor opened and shut, and a familiar tread that made her heart leapechoed along the passage. Her first impulse was to fly to meet thecomer, but a hand seemed to hold her back; and so, half reclining, sheawaited, with her heart beating violently, the appearance of him whosestrange absence had cost her so many hours of bitter anguish. A momentor two more, and then an exclamation of surprise and almost terror, fell from her lips. And well might she be startled at the appearance ofher husband. 

Pale, haggard, covered with dust, and with large drops of perspirationon his face, Wilkinson stood before his wife. With a grieving look hegazed upon her for some moments, but did not speak. 

"My husband!" exclaimed Mrs. Wilkinson as soon as she could recoverherself; and, as she uttered the words, she threw her arms around him, and buried her weeping face on his bosom. 

But Wilkinson tried to disengage her arms, saying, as he did so--

"Not this!--not this, Mary! I am unworthy of even your feeblest regard. Speak to me coldly, harshly, angrily, if you will. That I deserve--butnothing of kindness, nothing of love. Oh, that I were dead!"

"My husband! my husband! you are dearer to me than life!" was whisperedin reply, as Mary clung to him more closely. 

Such evidences of love melted the strong man's heart. He tried to bracehimself up against what, in his pride, he felt to be a weakness, butfailed, and leaning his face downward until it rested upon the head ofhis wife, sobbed aloud. 

CHAPTER IX. 

WILKINSON, on leaving the presence of the man who, under the guise offriendship, had so basely led him astray, and robbed him--it wasrobbery, in fact, for Carlton had not only enticed his victim to drinkuntil his mind was confused, but had played against him with trick andfalse dealing--passed, not by the bar-room of the hotel, but throughone of the passages, into the open air, and with hurried steps, andmind all in a whirl of excitement, started on foot for home. He was notin a state to consider exactly what he was doing--he did not reflectthat he was at least ten miles from the city, and that it would takehim hours to walk that distance. His predominant feeling was a desireto escape from the presence of the man who had so basely betrayed andalmost ruined him. 

It was a calm, clear, summer night; and the full moon, which hadreached the zenith, shone with an unusual radiance. Not a leaf moved onthe forest trees, for even the zephyrs were asleep. All was stillnessand tranquil beauty. 

Yet nature did not mirror herself on the feelings of Wilkinson, fortheir surface was in wild commotion. The unhappy man was conscious onlyof the folly he had committed and the wrong he had sustained; andthought only of his culpable weakness in having been drawn, by aspecious villain, to the very verge of ruin. 

Onward he strode, toward the city, with rapid pace, and soon histhoughts began to go forward towards his home. 

"Poor Mary!" he sighed, as the image of his wife, when she said tohim--"I count the hours when you are away, " arose before his eyes. Then, as the image grew more and more distinct, his hands were clenchedtightly, and he murmured through his shut teeth--

"Wretch! cruel wretch, that I am! I shall break her heart! Oh, why didI not resist this temptation? Why was I so thoughtless of the best, thetruest, the most loving friend I ever knew or ever can know--my Mary!"

Rapid as his steps had been from the first, the thought of his wifecaused Wilkinson to increase his pace, and he moved along, the onlypassenger at that hour upon the road, at almost a running speed. Soonthe perspiration was gushing freely from every pore, and this, in ashort time, relieved the still confused pressure on the brain of thealcohol which had been taken so freely into his system. Thoroughlysobered was he, ere he had passed over half the distance; and theclearer his mind became, the more troubled grew his feelings. 

"What, " he repeated to himself, over and over, "what if our dear Ellashould be in convulsions again?"

So great was the anguish of the unhappy man, that he was allunconscious of bodily fatigue. He was nearly half way to the city whenovertaken by Carlton. The latter called to him three or four times, andinvited him to get up and ride; but Wilkinson strode on, without somuch as uttering a word in reply, or seeming to hear what was said tohim. So Carlton, finding that his proffer was disregarded, dashed aheadand was soon out of sight. 

At what hour Wilkinson reached his home, and how he was received, hasalready been seen. 

Too heavy a pressure lay on the mind of the unhappy man, as he met hiswife at the breakfast table on the next morning, for him even to makean effort at external cheerfulness. There was not only the remembranceof his broken promise, and the anguish she must have suffered inconsequence of his absence for half the night--how visible, alas! wasthe effect written on her pale face, and eyes still red and swollenfrom excessive tears--but the remembrance, also, that he had permittedhimself, while under the influence of drink, to lose some two thousanddollars at the gaming table! What would he not endure to keep thatblasting fact from the knowledge of his single-hearted, uprightcompanion? He a gambler! How sick at heart the thought made him feel, when that thought came into the presence of his wife!

Few words passed between Mr. And Mrs. Wilkinson, but the manner of eachwas subdued, gentle, and even affectionate. They parted, after themorning meal, in silence; Wilkinson to repair to his place of business, his wife to busy herself in household duties, and await with tremblinganxiety the return of her husband at the regular dinner hour. 

This time, Wilkinson did not, as usual, drop in at a certaindrinking-house that was in his way, but kept on direct to his store. The reason of this omission of his habitual glass of brandy was not, weare compelled to say, from a purpose in his mind to abandon thedangerous practice, but to avoid encountering the man Carlton, whomight happen to be there. But he was not to keep clear of him in thisway. Oh, no. Carlton held his due-bills for "debts of honour, " callingfor various sums, amounting in all, as we have before said, to abouttwo thousand dollars, and he was not a person at all likely to forgetthis fact. Of this Wilkinson was made sensible, about an hour afterappearing at his store. He was at his desk musing over certain resultsfigured out on a sheet of paper that lay before him, and which hadreference to payments to be made during the next three or four weeks, when he heard his name mentioned, and, turning, saw a strangeraddressing one of his clerks, who had just pointed to where he wassitting. The man, with his unpleasant eyes fixed upon Wilkinson, came, with firm yet deliberate steps, back to his desk. 

"Mr. Wilkinson, I believe?" said he. 

"That is my name. " Wilkinson tried to feel self-possessed andindifferent. But that was impossible, for he had an instinctiveknowledge of the purport of the visit. 

The man thrust his hand into a deep inside pocket, and abstractedtherefrom a huge pocket-book. He did not search long in thecompartments of this for what he wanted, but drew directly therefromsundry small, variously shaped pieces of paper, much blotted andscrawled over in a hurried hand. Each of these bore the signature ofWilkinson, and words declaring himself indebted in a certain sum toAndrew Carlton. 

"I am desired to collect these, " said the man coldly. 

Much as Wilkinson had thought, in anticipation of this particularcrisis, he was yet undecided as to what he should do. He had been madethe victim of a specious scoundrel--a wolf who had come to him insheep's clothing. Running back his thoughts, as distinctly as it waspossible for him to do, to the occurrences of the previous night, heremembered much that fully satisfied him that Carlton had playedagainst him most unfairly; he not only induced him to drink until hismind was confused, but had taken advantage of this confused state, tocheat in the grossest manner. Some moments passed ere he replied to theapplication; then he said--

"I'm not prepared to do any thing with this matter just now. "

"My directions are to collect these bills, " was the simple reply, madein a tone that expressed even more than the words. 

"You may find that more difficult than you imagine, " replied Wilkinson, with some impatience. 

"No--no--we never have much difficulty in collecting debts of thiskind. " There was a meaning emphasis on the last two words, whichWilkinson understood but too well. Still he made answer, "You may find it a little harder in the present case than you imagine. I never received value for these tokens of indebtedness. "

"You must have been a precious fool to have given them then, " waspromptly returned, with a curling lip, and in a tone of contempt. "Theyrepresent, I presume, debts of honour?"

"There was precious little honour in the transaction, " said Wilkinson, who, stung by the manner and words of the collector, lost hisself-possessions. "If ever a man was cheated, I was. "

"Say that to Mr. Carlton himself; it is out of place with me. As Iremarked a little while ago, my business is to collect the sums calledfor by these due-bills. Are you prepared to settle them?"

"No, " was the decisive answer. 

"Perhaps, " said the collector, who had his part to play, and who, understanding it thoroughly, showed no inclination to go off in a huff;"you do not clearly understand your position, nor the consequenceslikely to follow the answer just given; that is, if you adhere to yourdetermination not to settle these due-bills. "

"You'll make the effort to collect by law, I presume?"

"Of course we will. "

"And get nothing. The law will not recognise a debt of this kind. "

"How is the law to come at the nature of the debt?"

"I will"--Wilkinson stopped suddenly. 

"Will you?" quickly chimed in the collector. "Then you are a bolder, orrather, more reckless man than I took you for. Your family, friends, creditors, and mercantile associates will be edified, no doubt, when itcomes to light on the trial, under your own statement, that you havebeen losing large sums of money at the gaming table--over two thousanddollars in a single night. "

A strong exclamation came from the lips of Wilkinson, who saw the trapinto which he had fallen, and from which there was, evidently, no safemode of escape. 

"It is impossible for me to pay two thousand dollars now, " said he, after a long, agitated silence, during which he saw, more clearly thanbefore, the unhappy position in which he was placed. "It will be ruinanyhow; and if loss of credit and character are to come, it might aswell come with the most in hand I can retain. "

"You are the best judge of that, " said the collector, coldly, turningpartly away as he spoke. 

"Tell Carlton that I would like to see him. "

"He left the city this morning, " replied the collector. 

"Left the city?"

"Yes, sir; and you will perceive that all of these due-bills have beenendorsed to me, and are, consequently, my property, for which I havepaid a valuable consideration. They are, therefore, legal claimsagainst you in the fullest sense, and I am not the man to waive myrights, or to be thwarted in my purposes. Are you prepared to settle?"

"Not to-day, at least. "

"I am not disposed to be too hard with you, " said the man, slightlysoftening in his tone; "and will say at a word what I will do, and allI will do. You can take up five hundred of these bills to-day, fivehundred in one week, and the balance in equal sums at two and threeweeks. I yield this much; but, understand me, it is all I yield, andyou need not ask for any further consideration. 

"Well, sir, what do you say?" Full five minutes after the collector hadgiven his ultimatum, he thus broke in upon the perplexed and undecidedsilence of the unhappy victim of his own weakness and folly. "Am I toreceive five hundred dollars now, or am I not?"

"Call in an hour, and I will be prepared to give an answer, " saidWilkinson. 

"Very well. I'll be here in one hour to a minute, " and the manconsulted his watch. 

And to a minute was he there. 

"Well, sir, have you decided this matter?" said he, on confrontingWilkinson an hour later. He spoke with the air of one who feltindifferent as to which way the decision had been made. Withoutreplying, Wilkinson took from under a paper weight on his desk a checkfor five hundred dollars, and presented it to the collector. 

"All right, " was the satisfied remark of the latter as he read the faceof the check; and, immediately producing his large pocket-book, drewforth Wilkinson's due-bills, and selecting one for three hundred andone for two hundred dollars, placed them in his hands. 

"On this day one week I will be here again, " said the man, impressively, and, turning away, left the store. 

The moment he was out of sight, Wilkinson tore the due-bills he hadcancelled into a score of pieces, and, as he scattered them on thefloor, said to himself--"Perish, sad evidences of my miserable folly!The lesson would be salutary, were it not received at too heavy a cost. Can I recover from this? Alas! I fear not. Fifteen hundred more to beabstracted from my business, and in three weeks! How can it possibly bedone?"

To a certain extent, the lesson was salutary. During the next threeweeks, Wilkinson, who felt a nervous reluctance to enter adrinking-house lest he should meet Carlton, kept away from such places, and therefore drank but little during the time; nor did he once go outin the evening, except in company with his wife, who was studious, allthe time, in the science of making home happy. But it was impossiblefor her to chase away the shadow that rested upon her husband's brow. 

Promptly, on a certain day in each week of that period, came the manwho held the due-bills given to Carlton, leaving Wilkinson five hundreddollars poorer with each visitation--poorer, unhappier, and morediscouraged in regard to his business, which was scarcely stanch enoughto bear the sudden withdrawal of so much money. 

Under such circumstances it was impossible for Wilkinson to appearotherwise than troubled. To divine the cause of this trouble soonbecame the central purpose in the mind of his wife. To all herquestions on the subject, he gave evasive answers; still she gatheredenough to satisfy her that every thing was not right in regard to hisbusiness. Assuming this to be the case, she began to think over theways and means of reducing their range of expenses, which were in theneighbourhood of fifteen hundred dollars per annum. The result willappear. 

CHAPTER X. 

THE morning of the day came on which Wilkinson had to make his lastpayment on account of the due-bills given to Carlton. He had nothing inbank, and there were few borrowing resources not already used to theutmost limit. At ten o'clock he went out to see what could be done inthe way of effecting further temporary loans among business friends. His success was not very great, for at twelve o'clock he returned withonly two hundred dollars. Carlton's agent had called twice during thetime, and came in a few minutes afterwards. 

"You're too soon for me, " said Wilkinson, with not a very cheerful orwelcome expression of countenance. 

"It's past twelve, " returned the man. 

"All the same if it were past three. I haven't the money. "

The collector's brow lowered heavily. 

"How soon will you have it?"

"Can't tell, " replied Wilkinson, fretfully. 

"That kind of answer don't just suit me, " said the man, with someappearance of anger. "I've been remarkable easy with you, and now"--

"Easy!" sharply ejaculated Wilkinson. "Yes; as the angler who plays histrout. You've already received fifteen hundred dollars of the sum outof which I was swindled, and with that I should think both you and yourprincipal might be content. Go back to him, and say that he is aboutplacing on the camel's back the pound that may break it. "

"I have before told you, " was replied, "that Mr. Carlton has no longerany control in this matter. It is I who hold your obligations; theyhave been endorsed to me, and for a valuable consideration; and beassured that I shall exact the whole bond. "

"If, " said Wilkinson, after some moments' reflection, and speaking in achanged voice and with much deliberation, "if you will take my note ofhand for the amount of your due-bills, at six months from to-day, Iwill give it; if not"--

"Preposterous!" returned the man, interrupting him. 

"If not, " continued Wilkinson, "you can fall back upon the law. It hasits delays and chances; and I am more than half inclined to the beliefthat I was a fool not to have left this matter for a legal decision inthe beginning. I should have gained time at least. "

"If you are so anxious to get into court, you can be gratified, " wasanswered. 

"Very well; seek your redress in law, " said Wilkinson, angrily. "Occasionally, gamblers and pickpockets get to the end of their rope;and, perhaps, it may turn out so in this instance. My only regret nowis, that I didn't let the matter go to court in the beginning. "

The man turned off hastily, but paused ere he reached the door, stoodmusing for a while, and then came slowly back. 

"Give me your note at sixty days, " said he. 

"No, sir, " was the firm reply of Wilkinson. "I offered my note at sixmonths. For not a day less will I give it; and I don't care threecoppers whether you take it or no. I had about as lief test the matterin a court of justice as not. "

The man again made a feint to retire, but again returned. 

"Say three months, then. "

"It is useless to chaffer with me, sir. " Wilkinson spoke sternly. "Ihave said what I will do, and I will do nothing else. Even that offer Ishall withdraw if not accepted now. "

The man seemed thrown quite aback by the prompt and decisive manner ofWilkinson, and, after some hesitation and grumbling, finally consentedto yield up the balance of the due-bills for a note payable in sixmonths. 

"Saved as by fire!" Such was the mental ejaculation of Wilkinson, asthe collector left the store. "I stagger already under the extra weightof fifteen hundred dollars. Five hundred added now would come nigh tocrushing me. Ah! how dearly have I paid for my folly!"

While he still sat musing at his desk, his friend Ellis came in, looking quite sober. 

"I know you've been pretty hard run for the last week or ten days, "said he, "but can't you strain a point and help me a little? I've beenrunning about all the morning, and am still two hundred dollars shortof the amount to be paid in bank to-day. "

"Fortunately, " replied Wilkinson, "I have just the sum you need. "

"How long can you spare it?"

"Until day after to-morrow. "

"You shall have it then, without fail. "

The money was counted out and handed to Ellis, who, as he received it, said in a desponding voice--

"Unless a man is so fortunate as to be born with a silver spoon in hismouth, he finds nothing but up-hill work in this troublesome world. Ideclare! I'm almost discouraged. I can feel myself going behindhand, instead of advancing. "

"Don't say that. You're only in a desponding mood, " replied Wilkinson, repressing his own gloomy feelings, and trying to speak encouragingly. 

"I wish it were only imagination. It is now nearly ten years since Iwas married, and though my business, at the time, was good, and payinga fair profit on the light capital invested, it has, instead of gettingmore prosperous, become, little and by little, embarrassed, untilnow--I speak this confidently, and to one whom I know to be afriend--were every thing closed up, I doubt if I should be worth fivehundred dollars. "

"Not so bad as that. You are only in a gloomy state of mind. "

"I wish it were only nervous despondency, my friend. But it is not so. All the while I am conscious of a retrograde instead of an advancemovement. "

"There must be a cause for this, " said Wilkinson. 

"Of course. There is no effect without a cause. "

"Do you know what it is?"

"Yes. "

"A knowledge of our disease is said to be half the cure. "

"It has not proved so in my case. "

"What is the difficulty?"

"My expenses are too high. "

"Your store expenses?"

"No, my family expenses. "

"Then you ought to reduce them. "

"That is easily said; but, in my case, not so easily done. I cannotmake my wife comprehend the necessity of retrenchment. "

"If you were to explain the whole matter to her, calmly and clearly, Iam certain you would not find her unreasonable. Her stake in thismatter is equal to yours. "

"Oh, dear! Haven't I tried, over and over again?"

"If Cara will not hear reason, and join with you in prudent reforms, then it is your duty to make them yourself. What are your annualexpenses?"

"I am ashamed to say. "

"Fifteen hundred dollars?"

"They have never fallen below that since we were married, and, for thelast three years, have reached the sum of two thousand dollars. Thisyear they will even exceed that. "

Wilkinson shook his head. 

"Too much! too much!"

"I know it is. A man in my circumstances has no right to expend evenhalf that sum. Why, five hundred dollars a year less in our expensessince we were married would have left me a capital of five thousanddollars in my business. "

"And placed you now on the sure road to fortune. "

"Undoubtedly. "

"Take my advice, and give to Cara a full statement of your affairs. Doit at once--this very day. It has been put off too long already. Letthere be no reserve--no holding back--no concealment. Do it calmly, mildly, yet earnestly, and my word for it, she will join you, heart andhand, in any measure of reform and safety that you may propose. Shewere less than a woman, a wife, and a mother, not to do so. You wrongher by doubt. "

"Perhaps I do, " said Ellis in reply. "Perhaps I have never managed herrightly. I know that I am quick to get out of patience with her, if sheoppose my wishes too strongly. But I will try and overcome this. Thereis too much at stake just now. "

The two men parted. Henry Ellis pondered all day over the present stateof his affairs, and the absolute necessity there was for a reduction ofhis expenses. The house in which he lived cost four hundred and fiftydollars a year. Two hundred dollars could easily be saved, he thought, by taking a smaller house, where, if they were only willing to thinkso, they might be just as comfortable as they now were. Beyond thisreduction in rent, Ellis did not see clearly how to proceed. The restwould have mainly to depend upon his wife, who had almost the entirecharge of the home department, including the expenditures made onaccount thereof. 

The earnestness with which Ellis pondered these things lifted histhoughts so much above the sensual plane where they too often rested, that he felt not the desire for stimulating drink returning at certainhours, but passed through the whole of the afternoon without eitherthinking of or tasting his usual glass of brandy and water. On cominghome to his family in the evening, his mind was as clear as a bell. This, unhappily, was not always the case. 

And now for the task of making Cara comprehend the real state of hisaffairs; and to produce in her a cheerful, loving, earnest co-operationin the work of salutary reform. But how to begin? What first to say?How to disarm her opposition in the outset? These were the questionsover which Ellis pondered. And the difficulty loomed up larger andlarger the nearer he approached it. He felt too serious; and wasconscious of this. 

Unhappily, Cara's brow was somewhat clouded. Ellis approached her withattempts at cheerful conversation; but she was not in the mood to feelinterested in any of the topics he introduced. The tea hour passed withlittle of favourable promise. The toast was badly made, and thechocolate not half boiled. Mrs. Ellis was annoyed, and scolded thecook, in the presence of her husband, soundly; thus depriving him ofthe little appetite with which he had come to the table. Gradually theunhappy man felt his patience and forbearance leaving him; and morethan once he said to himself--

"It will be worse than useless to talk to her. She will throw back mywords upon me, in the beginning, as she has so often done before. "

Tea over, Mr. And Mrs. Ellis returned with their children to thesitting-room. The former felt an almost irrepressible desire for thecigar, which habit had rendered so nearly indispensable; but he deniedhimself the indulgence, lest Cara should make it the occasion of someannoying remark. So he took up a newspaper, and occupied himselftherewith, until his wife had undressed and put their two oldestchildren to bed. As she returned from the adjoining room, where theyslept, Ellis looked earnestly into her face, to see what hope there wasfor him in its expression. Her lips were drawn closely together, herbrows slightly contracted, and her countenance had a fretful, discontented expression. He sighed inwardly, and resumed the perusal ofhis newspaper; or, rather, affected to resume it, for the words thatmet his eyes conveyed to his mind no intelligible ideas. 

Mrs. Ellis took her work-basket, and commenced sewing, while herhusband continued to hold the newspaper before his face. After some tenminutes of silence, the latter made a remark, as a kind of feeler. Thiswas replied to with what sounded more like a grunt than a vocalexpression. 

"Cara, " at length said Ellis, forcing himself to the unpleasant work onhand, "I would like to have a little plain talk with you about myaffairs. " He tried, in saying this, to seem not to be very serious; buthis feelings, which had for some time been on the rack, were toopainfully excited to admit of this. He both looked and expressed, inthe tones of his voice, the trouble he felt. 

Now, just at the moment Ellis said this, his wife was on the eve ofmaking the announcement, in rather a peremptory and dogmatic way, thatif he didn't give her the money to buy new parlour carpets, for whichshe had been asking as much as a year past, she would go and orderthem, and have the bill sent in to him. All day this subject had beenin her mind, and she had argued herself into the belief that herhusband was perfectly able, not only to afford her new carpets, butalso new parlour furniture; and that his unwillingness to do so arosefrom a penurious spirit. Such being her state of mind, she was notprepared to see in the words, voice, and look of her husband the realtruth that it was so important for her to know. From the beginning oftheir married life, she had been disposed to spend freely, and he torestrain her. In consequence, there was a kind of feud between them;and now she regarded his words as coming from a desire on his part tomake her believe that he was poorer, in the matter of this world'sgoods, than was really the case. Her reply, therefore, rather pettishlyuttered, was--

"Oh! I've heard enough about your affairs. No doubt you are on theverge of bankruptcy. A man who indulges his family to the extent thatyou do must expect shipwreck with every coming gale. "

The change of countenance and exclamation with which this heartlessretort was made startled even Cara. Rising quickly to his feet, andflinging upon his wife a look of reproach, Ellis left the room. Amoment or two afterwards, the street-door shut after him with a heavyjar. 

It was past midnight when he came home, and then he was stupid fromdrink. 

CHAPTER XI. 

HOW different was it with Wilkinson, when he returned to his wife onthe same evening, in a most gloomy, troubled, and desponding state ofmind! A review of his affairs had brought little, if any thing, toencourage him. This dead loss of two thousand dollars was more, hefelt, than he could bear. Ere this came upon him, there was often greatdifficulty in making his payments. How should he be able to make themnow, with such an extra weight to carry? The thought completelydisheartened him. 

"I, too, ought to retrench, " said he, mentally, his thoughts recurringto the interview which had taken place between him and Ellis. "In fact, I don't see what else is to save me. But how can I ask Mary to give upher present style of living? How can I ask her to move into a smallerhouse? to relinquish one of her domestics, and in other respects todeny herself, when the necessity for so doing is wholly chargeable tomy folly? It is no use; I can't do it. Every change--every stepdownwards, would rebuke me. No--no. Upon Mary must not rest the evilconsequences of my insane conduct. Let me, alone, suffer. "

But how, alone, was he to bear, without sinking beneath the weight, thepressure that was upon him?

With the usual glad smile and heart-warm kiss Wilkinson was greeted onhis return home. 

"God bless you, Mary!" said he, with much feeling, as he returned hiswife's salutation. 

Mrs. Wilkinson saw that her husband was inwardly moved to a degree thatwas unusual. She did not remark thereon, but her manner was gentle, andher tones lower and tenderer than usual, when she spoke to him. But fewwords passed between them, until the bell rang for tea. While sittingat the table, the voice of Ella was heard, crying. 

"Agnes!" called Mrs. Wilkinson, going to the head of the stairs thatled down into the kitchen--"I wish you would go up to Ella, she isawake. "

The girl answered that she would do as desired, and Mrs. Wilkinsonreturned to her place at the table. 

"Where is Anna?" asked Mr. Wilkinson. 

Mrs. Wilkinson smiled cheerfully, as she replied, "Her month was up to-day, and I concluded to let her go. "

"What!" Wilkinson spoke in a quick surprised voice. 

"She was little more than a fifth wheel to our coach, " was replied;"and fifth wheels can easily be dispensed with. "

"But who is to take care of Ella? Who is to do the chamber work? Notyou!"

"Don't be troubled about that, my good husband!" was answered with asmile. "Leave all to me. I am the housekeeper. "

"You are not strong enough, Mary. You will injure your health. "

"My health is more likely to suffer from lack, than from excess ofeffort. The truth is, I want more exercise than I have been in thehabit of taking. "

"But the confinement, Mary. Don't you see that the arrangement youpropose will tie you down to the house? Indeed, I can't think of it. "

"I shall not be confined in-doors any more than I am now. Agnes willtake care of the baby whenever I wish to go out. "

"There is too much work in this house, Mary'" said Mr. Wilkinson, in adecided way. "You cannot get along with but a single domestic. "

"There are only you, and Ella, and I!" Mrs. Wilkinson leaned towardsher husband, and looked earnestly into his face. There was anexpression on her countenance that was full of meaning; yet its importhe did not understand. 

"Only you, and Ella, and I?" said he. 

"Yes; only we three. Now, I have been wondering all day, John, whetherthere was any real necessity for just we three having so large a houseto live in. I don't think there is. It is an expense for nothing, andmakes work for nothing. "

"How you talk, Mary!"

"Don't I talk like a sensible woman?" said the young wife, smiling. 

"We can't go into a smaller house, dear. "

"And why not, pray?"

"Our position in society"--

Mr. Wilkinson did not finish the sentence; for he knew that argumentwould be lost on his wife. 

"We are not rich, " said Mrs. Wilkinson. 

"No one knows that better than myself, " replied the husband, with morefeeling than he meant to exhibit. 

"And, if the truth were known, are living at an expense beyond what wecan afford. Speak out plainly, dear, and say if this is not the case. "

"I shouldn't just like to say that, " returned Wilkinson; yet his toneof voice belied his words. 

"It is just as I supposed, " said Mrs. Wilkinson, growing more serious. "Why have you not confided in me? Why have you not spoken freely to meon this subject, John? Am I not your wife? And am I not ready to bearall things and to suffer all things for your sake?"

"You are too serious Mary, --too serious by far. I have not said thatthere was any thing wrong in my circumstances. I have not said that itwas necessary to reduce our expenses. "

"No matter, dear. We are, by living in our present style, expendingseveral hundred dollars a year more than is necessary. This is useless. Do you not say so yourself?"

"It is certainly useless to spend more than is necessary to securecomfort. "

"And wrong to spend more than we can afford?"

"Undoubtedly. "

"Then let us take a smaller house, John, by all means. I shall feel somuch better contented. "

It was some time before Wilkinson replied. When he did so, he spokewith unusual emotion. 

"Ah, my dear wife!" said he, leaning towards her and grasping her hand;"you know not how great a load you have taken from my heart. The changeyou suggest is necessary; yet I never could have urged it; never couldhave asked you to give up this for an humbler dwelling. How much ratherwould I elevate you to a palace!"

"My husband! Why, why have you concealed this from me? It was not truekindness, " said Mrs. Wilkinson, in a slightly chiding voice. "It is myprovince to stand, sustainingly, by your side; not to hang upon you, adead weight. "

But we will not repeat all that was said. Enough that, ere the evening, spent in earnest conversation, closed, all the preliminaries of anearly removal and reduction of expenses were settled, and, whenWilkinson retired for the night, it was in a hopeful spirit. Light hadbroken through a rift in the dark cloud which had so suddenly loomedup; and he saw, clearly, the way of escape from the evil thatthreatened to overwhelm him. 

CHAPTER XII. 

TWELVE o'clock of the day on which Ellis was to return the two hundreddollars borrowed of Wilkinson came, and yet he did not appear at thestore of the latter, who had several payments to make, and depended onreceiving the amount due from his friend. 

"Has Mr. Ellis been here?" asked Wilkinson of his clerk, coming inabout noon from a rather fruitless effort to obtain money. 

The clerk replied in the negative. 

"Nor sent over his check for two hundred dollars?"

"No, sir. "

"Step down to his store, then, if you please, and say to him from methat he mustn't forget the sum to be returned to-day, as I have twonotes yet in bank. Say also, that if he has any thing over, I shall beglad to have the use of it. "

The clerk departed on his errand. In due time he returned, but with nomoney in his possession. 

"Did you see Mr. Ellis?" asked Wilkinson. 

"No, sir, " was replied. "He hasn't been at the store to-day. "

"Not to-day!"

"No, sir. "

"What's the matter? Is he sick?"

"His clerk didn't say. "

Taking up his hat, Wilkinson left his store hurriedly. In a few minuteshe entered that of his friend. 

"Where is Mr. Ellis?" he inquired. 

"I don't know, sir, " was answered by the clerk. 

"Has he been here this morning?"

"No, sir. "

"He must be sick. Have you sent to his house to make inquiry?"

"Not yet. I have expected him all the morning. "

"He was here yesterday?"

"Not until late in the afternoon. "

"Indeed! Did he complain of not being well?"

"No, sir. But he didn't look very well. "

There was something in the manner of the clerk which Wilkinson did notunderstand clearly at first. But all at once it flashed upon his mindthat Ellis might, in consequence of some trouble with his wife, havesuddenly abandoned himself to drink. With this thought came theremembrance of what had passed between them two days before; and thisbut confirmed his first impression. 

"If Mr. Ellis comes in, " said he, after some moments of hurriedthought, "tell him that I would like to see him. "

The clerk promised to do so. 

"Hadn't you better send to his house?" suggested Wilkinson, as heturned to leave the store. "He may be sick. "

"I will do so, " replied the clerk, and Wilkinson retired, feeling by nomeans comfortable. By this time it was nearly one o'clock, and six orseven hundred dollars were yet required to make him safe for that day'spayments. The failure of Ellis to keep his promise laid upon him anadditional burden, and gradually caused a feeling of despondency tocreep in upon him. Instead of making a new and more earnest effort toraise the money, he went back to his store, and remained there fornearly half an hour, in a brooding, disheartened state of mind. Aglance at the clock, with the minute-hand alarmingly near the figure 2, startled him at length from his dreaming inactivity; and he went forthagain to raise, if possible, the money needed to keep his name fromcommercial dishonour. He was successful; but there were only fifteenminutes in his favour when the exact sum he needed was made up, and hisnotes taken out of bank. 

Two o'clock was Mr. Wilkinson's dinner hour, and he had always, before, so arranged his bank business as to have his notes taken up long enoughbefore that time to be ready to leave promptly for home. But for thefailure of Ellis to keep his promise, it would have been so on this day. 

"It's hardly worth while to go home now, " said he, as he closed hiscash and bill books, after making some required entries therein. "Maryhas given me over long ago. And, besides, I don't feel in the mood ofmind to see her just now. I can't look cheerful, to save me; and I havealready called too many shadows to her face to darken it with any more. By evening I will recover myself, and then can meet her with a brightercountenance. No, I won't go home now. I'll stop around to Elder's, andget a cut of roast beef. "

Wilkinson had taken up his hat, and was moving down the store, when asuggestion that came to his mind made him pause. It was this:

"But is not Mary waiting for me, and will not my absence for the wholeday cause her intense anxiety and alarm? I ought to go home. "

And now began an argument in his thoughts. The fact was, a sense ofexhaustion of body and depression of spirits had followed the effortand trouble of the day, and Wilkinson felt a much stronger desire forsomething stimulating to drink than he did for food. Elder's was adrinking as well as an eating-house; and in deciding to go there, instead of returning home, the real influence, although he did notperceive it to be so, was the craving felt for a glass of brandy. Andnow came the conflict between appetite and an instinctive sense of whatwas due both to himself and his wife. 

"It will only put her to trouble if I go home now. " Thus he sought tojustify himself in doing what his better sense clearly condemned aswrong. 

"It will rather relieve her from trouble, " was quickly answered to this. 

For a little while Wilkinson stood undecided, then slowly retired to aremote part of the store, took off his hat, and sat down to debate thepoint at issue in his mind more coolly. 

"I will go home early, " said he to himself. 

"Why not go home now?" was instantly replied. 

"It is too late; Mary has given me up long ago. "

"She will be extremely anxious. "

"I can explain all. "

"Better do it now than two or three hours later: poor Mary has sufferedenough already. "

This last suggestion caused the image of his wife to come up before themind of Wilkinson very distinctly. He saw, now, her smile of winninglove; now, the sad drooping of her countenance, as he turned to leaveher alone for an evening; now, the glance of anxiety and fear withwhich she so often greeted his return; and now, her pale, grief-stricken face, after some one of his too many lapses from theright way. And, in imagination, his thoughts went to his home in thepresent moment. What did he see? A waiting, anxious, troubled wife, nowsitting with fixed and dreamy eyes; now moving about with restlesssteps; and now standing at the street-door, eagerly straining her eyesto see in the distance his approaching form. With such images of hiswife came no repulsive thought to the mind of Wilkinson. Ever loving, tender, patient, forbearing, and true-hearted had Mary been. Not oncein the whole of their married life had she jarred the chord that boundthem together, with a touch of discord. He could only think of her, therefore, with love, and a feeling of attraction; and this it was thatsaved him in the present hour. Starting up suddenly, he said, "I willgo home: why have I hesitated an instant? My poor Mary! Heaven knowsyou have already suffered enough through my short-comings andwanderings from the way of right and duty. I am walking a narrow path, with destruction on either hand: if I get over safely, it will bethrough you as my sustaining angel. "

A skilful limner, at least in this instance, was the imagination ofWilkinson. Much as it had been pictured to his thoughts was the sceneat home. Poor Mary! with what trembling anxiety did she wait and hopefor her husband's coming, after the usual hour for his return hadpassed. Now she sat motionless, gazing on some painful image that waspresented to her mind; now she moved about the room from an unquietnessof spirit that would not let her be still; and now she bent her eartowards the street, and listened almost breathlessly for the sound ofher husband's footsteps. Thus the time passed from two until threeo'clock, the dinner yet unserved. 

"Oh, what can keep him away so long?"

How many, many times was this spoken audibly! Now her heart beat with aquick, panting motion, as the thought of some accident to her husbandflitted through the mind of Mrs. Wilkinson; now its irregular motionsubsided, and it lay almost still, with a heavy pressure; for the fearlest he had again been tempted from the path of sobriety came with itsdeep and oppressive shadow. 

And thus the lingering moments passed. Three o'clock came, and yet Mr. Wilkinson was absent. 

"I can bear this suspense no longer, " said the unhappy wife. "Somethinghas happened. "

And as she said this, she went quickly into her chamber to put intoexecution some suddenly-formed resolution. Opening a wardrobe, she tooktherefrom her bonnet and a shawl. But, ere she had thrown the latteraround her shoulders, she paused, with the words on her lips--

"If business should have detained him at his store, how will myappearance there affect him? I must think of that. I do not want him tofeel that I have lost confidence in him. "

While Mrs. Wilkinson stood, thus musing, her ear caught the sound ofher husband's key in the lock of the street-door. How quickly were herbonnet and shawl returned to their places! How instant and eager wereher efforts to suppress all signs of anxiety at the prolonged absence!

"He must not see that I have been over-anxious, " she murmured. 

The street-door closed; Mr. Wilkinson's well-known tread sounded alongthe passage and up the stairway. With what an eager discrimination wasthe ear of his wife bent towards him for a sign that would indicate thecondition in which he returned to her! How breathless was her suspense!A few moments, and the door of her room opened. 

"Why, John!" said she, with a pleasant smile, and a tone so welldisguised that it betrayed little of the sea of agitation below--"whathas kept you so late? I was really afraid something had happened. Haveyou been sick; or did business detain you?"

"It was business, dear, " replied Mr. Wilkinson, as he took the handwhich Mary placed within his. The low, nervous tremour of that hand heinstantly perceived, and as instantly comprehended its meaning. She hadbeen deeply anxious, but was now seeking to conceal this from him. Heunderstood it all, and was touched by the fact. 

"I ought to have sent you word, " said he, as he kissed her with morethan usual tenderness of manner. "It was wrong in me. But I've beenvery hard put to it to take up my notes, and didn't succeed until nearthe closing of bank hours. I loaned Ellis some money, which he was toreturn to me to-day; but his failing to do so put me to a good deal ofinconvenience. "

"Oh, I'm sorry, " was the sympathizing response. "But how came Mr. Ellisto disappoint you?"

"I don't exactly know. He hasn't been at his store to-day. "

"Is he sick?"

"Worse, I'm afraid. "

"How, worse?"

"His habits have not been very good of late. "

"Oh! how sad! His poor wife!"

This was an almost involuntary utterance on the part of Mrs. Wilkinson. 

"Her poor husband, rather say, " was the reply. "The fact is, if Ellisgoes to ruin, it will be his wife's fault. She has no sympathy withhim, no affectionate consideration for him. A thoroughly selfish woman, she merely regards the gratification of her own desires, and is evermaking home repulsive, instead of attractive. "

"You must be mistaken. "

"No. Ellis often complains to me of her conduct. "

"Why, John! I can scarcely credit such a thing. "

"Doubtless it is hard for _you_ to imagine any woman guilty of suchunwifelike conduct. Yet such is the case. Many a night has Ellis spentat a tavern, which, but for Cara's unamiable temper, would have beenspent at home. "

"Ah! she will have her reward, " sighed Mrs. Wilkinson. 

"And you yours, " was the involuntary but silent ejaculation ofWilkinson. 

Ere further remark was made, the dinner-bell rang, and Mr. Wilkinsonand his wife repaired to the dining-room. 

It was not possible for the former to endure the pressure that was onhis feelings without letting the fact of its existence betray itself inhis countenance; and Mary, whose eyes were scarcely a moment from herhusband's face, soon saw that his mind was ill at ease. 

"How much did Mr. Ellis borrow of you?" she asked, soon after they hadtaken their places at the table. 

"Two hundred dollars, " was replied. 

"No more?" The mind of Mrs. Wilkinson was evidently relieved, atknowing the smallness of the sum. 

"True, it isn't much, " said Wilkinson. "But even a small sum is ofgreat importance when we have a good deal to pay, and just lack thatamount, after gathering in all our available resources. And that wasjust my position to-day. " "Why didn't you call on me?" Mary smiled, with evident meaning as she said this. 

"On you!" Wilkinson looked at her with a slight air of surprise. 

"Yes, on me. I think I could have made you up that sum. "

"You!"

A bright gleam went over the face of Mrs. Wilkinson, as she saw thesurprise of her husband. 

"Yes, me. Why not? You have always been liberal in your supplies ofmoney, and it is by no means wonderful that I should have saved alittle. The fact is, John, I've never spent my entire income; I alwaysmade it a point of conscience to keep as far below it as possible. "

"Mary!" Beyond this simple ejaculation, Wilkinson could not go, butsat, with his eyes fixed wonderingly on the face of his wife. 

"It is true, dear, " she answered, in her loving gentle way. "I haven'tcounted up lately; but, if I do not err, I have twice the sum youneeded to-day; and, what is more, the whole is at your service. Sodon't let this matter of Ellis's failure to return you the sumborrowed, trouble you in the least. If it never comes back to you, theloss will be made up in another quarter. "

It was some moments before Wilkinson could make any answer. At last, dropping the knife and fork which he held in his hands, he started fromhis place, and coming round to where his wife sat, drew his arms aroundher, and as he pressed his lips to hers, said with an unsteady voice--

"God bless you, Mary! You are an angel!"

Had she not her reward in that happy moment? Who will say nay?

CHAPTER XIII. 

ON the morning that followed the fruitless attempt of Henry Ellis tomake his wife comprehend the necessity that existed for an immediatereduction in their household expenditures, he did not get up untilnearly ten o'clock. For at least an hour before rising, he was awake, suffering in both body and mind; for the night's debauch had left him, as was usually the case, with a most violent headache. During all thetime he heard, at intervals, the voice of Cara in the adjoining, talking to or scolding at the children; but not once during the timedid she come into the chamber where he lay. He felt it as a total wantof interest or affection on her part. He had done wrong; he felt that;yet, at the same time, he also felt that Cara had her share of theblame to bear. If she had only manifested some feeling for him, someinterest in him, he would have been softened; but, as she did not, bykeeping entirely away, show that she thought or cared for him, the purewaters of right feeling, that were gushing up in his mind, were touchedwith the gall of bitterness. 

Rising at length, Ellis began dressing himself, purposely makingsufficient noise to reach the ears of his wife. But she did not makeher appearance. 

Two doors led from the chamber in which he was. One communicated withthe adjoining room, used as a nursery, and the other with the passage. After Ellis had dressed and shaved himself, he was, for a short time, undecided whether to enter the nursery, in which were his wife andchildren, or to pass through the other door, and leave the housewithout seeing them. 

"I shall only get my feelings hurt, " said he, as he stood debating thepoint. "It's a poor compensation for trouble and the lack of domesticharmony, to get drunk, I know; and I ought to be, and am, ashamed of myown folly. Oh dear! what is to become of me? Why will not Cara see theevil consequences of the way she acts upon her husband? If I go todestruction, and the chances are against me, the sin will mainly restupon her. Yet why should I say this? Am I not man enough to keep sober?Yes"--thus he went on talking to himself--"but if she will not act insome sort of unity with me, I shall be ruined in my business. It willnever do to maintain our present expensive mode of living; and she willnever hear to a change. "

Just at this moment an angry exclamation from the lips of Mrs. Elliscame sharply on the ears of her husband, followed by the whipping andcrying of one of the children, who had, as far as Ellis could gather, from what was said, overset his mother's work-basket. 

"No use for me to go in there, " muttered the unhappy man. "I shall onlyincrease the storm; and I've had storms enough!"

So he went from the chamber by way of the passage, descended to theentry below, and, taking up his hat, left the house. 

Now, of all things in the world, in the peculiar state of body and mindin which Ellis then was, did he want a good strong cup of coffee at hisown table, and a kind, forbearing, loving wife to set it before him. These would have given to his body and to his mind just what bothneeded, for the trials and temptations of the day; and they would havesaved him, at least for the day, perhaps for life; for the pivot uponwhich the whole of a man's future destiny turns is often small, andscarcely noticed. 

As Ellis stepped from his door, and received the fresh air upon hisface and in his lungs, he was instantly conscious of a want in hissystem, and a craving for something to supply that want. Having takenno breakfast, the feeling was not to be wondered at. Ellis understoodits meaning, in part, and took the nearest way to an eating-house wherehe ordered something to eat. For him, it was the most natural thing inthe world, under the circumstances, to call for something at the barwhile his breakfast was preparing. He felt better after taking a glassof brandy. 

Ellis had finished his breakfast, and was standing at the bar with asecond glass of liquor in his hand, when he was accosted in a familiarmanner by the same individual who had lured Wilkinson to thegaming-table. 

"Ah, my boy! how are you?" said Carlton, grasping the hand of Ellis andshaking it heartily. 

"Glad to see you, 'pon my word! Where do you keep yourself?"

"You'll generally find me at my store during business hours, " repliedEllis. 

"What do you call business hours?" was asked by Carlton. 

"From eight or nine in the morning until six or seven in the evening. "

"Yes--yes--yes! With you as with every other 'business' man I know. Business every thing--living nothing. You'll get rich, I suppose; but, by the time your sixty or a hundred thousand dollars are safelyinvested in real estate or good securities, health will have departed, never to return. "

"Not so bad as that, I presume, " returned Ellis. 

"How can it be otherwise? The human body is not made of iron and steel;and, if it were, it would never stand the usage it receives from somemen, you among the number. For what are the pure air and brightsunshine made? To be enjoyed only by the birds and beasts? Man issurely entitled to his share; and if he neglects to take it, he does soto his own injury. You don't look well. In fact, I never saw you lookworse; and I noticed, when I took your hand, that it was hot. Now, mygood fellow! this is little better than suicide on your part; and if Ido not mistake, you are too good a Christian to be guilty ofself-murder. Why don't you ride out and take the air? You ought to dothis daily. "

"Too expensive a pleasure for me, " said Ellis. "In the first place, with me time is money, and, in the second place, I have no goldenmint-drops to exchange for fast horses. "

"I have a fine animal at your service, " replied the tempter. "Happy tolet you use him at any time. "

"Much obliged for the offer; and when I can run away from business fora few hours, will avail myself of it. "

"What do you say to a ride this morning? I'm going a few miles overinto Jersey, and should like your company above all things. "

"I hardly think I can leave the store to-day, " replied Ellis. "Let mesee: have I any thing in the way of a note to take up? I believe not. "

"You say yes, then?"

"I don't know about that. It doesn't just seem right. "

"Nonsense! It is wonderful how this business atmosphere does affect aman's perceptions! He can see nothing but the dollar. Every thing isbrought down to a money valuation. "

We will not trace the argument further. Enough that the tempter wassuccessful, and that Ellis, instead of going to his store, rode outwith Carlton. 

He was not, of course, home at his usual dinner-hour. It was betweenthree and four o'clock when he appeared at his place of business, theworse for his absence, in almost every sense of the word. He had beendrinking, until he was half stupid, and was a loser at the gaming-tableof nearly six hundred dollars. A feeble effort was made by him to gointo an examination of the business of the day; but he found itimpossible to fix his mind thereon, and so gave up the attempt. Heremained at his store until ready to close up for the day, and thenturned his steps homeward. 

By this time he was a good deal sobered, and sadder for his sobriety;for, as his mind became clearer, he remembered, with more vividness, the events of the day, and particularly the fact of having lost severalhundred dollars to his pretended friend, Carlton. 

"Whither am I going? Where is this to end?" was his shudderingejaculation, as the imminent peril of his position most vividlypresented itself. 

How hopelessly he wended his reluctant way homeward! There was nothingto lean upon there. No strength of ever-enduring love, to be, as itwere, a second self to him in his weakness. No outstretched arm to draghim, with something of super-human power, out of the miry pit intowhich he had fallen; but, instead, an indignant hand to thrust himfarther in. 

"God help me!" he sighed, in the very bitterness of a hopeless spirit;"for there is no aid in man. "

Ah! if, in his weakness, he had only leaned, in true dependence, on Himhe thus asked to help him; if he had but resisted the motions of evilin himself, as sins against his Maker, and resisted them in adetermined spirit, he need not have fallen; strength would, assuredly, have been given. 

The nearer Ellis drew to his home, the more unhappy he felt at thethought of meeting his wife. After having left the house without seeingher in the morning, and then remaining from home all day, he had nohope of a kind reception. 

"It's no use!" he muttered to himself, stopping suddenly, when within asquare of his house. "I can't meet Cara; she will look coldly at me, orfrown, or speak cutting words; and I'm in no state of mind to bear anything patiently just now. I've done wrong, I know--very wrong; but Idon't want it thrown into my face. Oh, dear! I am beset within andwithout, behind and before and there is little hope for me. "

Overcoming this state of indecision, Ellis forced himself to go home. On entering the presence of his wife, he made a strong effort tocompose himself, and, when he met Cara, he spoke to her in a cheerfultone of voice. How great an effort it cost him to do this, consideringall the circumstances by which he was surrounded, the reader may easilyimagine. And what was his reception?

"Found your way home at last!"

These were the words with which Cara received her husband; and theywere spoken in a sharp, deriding tone of voice. The day's doubt, suspense, and suffering, had not quieted the evil spirit in her heart. She was angry with her husband, and could not restrain its expression. 

A bitter retort trembled on the tongue of Ellis; but he checked itsutterance, and, turning from his wife, took one of his children in hisarms. The sphere of innocence that surrounded the spirit of that childpenetrated his heart, and touched his feelings with an emotion oftenderness. 

"Oh, wretched man that I am!" he sighed, in the bitterness of arepentant and self-upbraiding spirit. "So much dependent on me, and yetas weak as a reed swaying in the wind. "

How much that weak, tempted, suffering man, just trembling on the brinkof destruction, needed a true-hearted, forbearing, long-suffering wife!Such a one might--yes, would--have saved him. By the strong cords oflove she would have held him to her side. 

Several times Ellis tried to interest Cara in conversation; but toevery remark she replied only in monosyllables. In fact she was angrywith him, and, not feeling kindly, she would not speak kindly. All dayshe had suffered deeply on his account. A thousand fears had harassedher mind. She had even repented of her unkindness towards him, andresolved to be more forbearing in the future. For more than an hour shekept the table waiting at dinner time, and was so troubled at hisabsence, that she felt no inclination to touch food. 

"I'm afraid I am not patient enough with him, " she sighed, as betterfeelings warmed in her heart. "I was always a little irritable. But Iwill try to do better. If he were not so close about money, I could bemore patient. "

While such thoughts were passing through the mind of Mrs. Ellis, aparticular friend, named Mrs. Claxton, called to see her. 

"Why, bless me, Cara! what's the matter?" exclaimed this lady, as shetook the hand of Mrs. Ellis. "You look dreadful. Haven't been sick, Ihope?"

"No, not sick in body, " was replied. 

"Sick in mind. The worst kind of sickness. No serious trouble, I hope?"

There was a free, off-hand, yet insinuating manner about Mrs. Claxton, that, while it won the confidence of a certain class of minds, repulsedothers. Mrs. Ellis, who had no great skill in reading character, belonged to the former class; and Mrs. Claxton was, therefore as justsaid, a particular friend, and in a certain sense a confidante. 

"The old trouble, " replied Mrs. Ellis to the closing question of herfriend. 

"With your husband?"

"Yes. He pinches me in money matters so closely, and grumbles soeternally at what he calls my extravagance, that I'm out of allpatience. Last evening, just as I was about telling him that he mustgive me new parlour carpets, he, divining, I verily believe, mythoughts, cut off every thing, by saying, in a voice as solemn as thegrave--'Cara, I would like to have a little plain talk with you aboutmy affairs. ' I flared right up. I couldn't have helped it, if I'd diedfor it the next minute. "

"Well; what then?"

"Oh! the old story. Of course he got angry, and went off like a streakof lightning. I cried half the evening, and then went to bed. I don'tknow how late it was when he came home. This morning, when I got up, hewas sleeping as heavy as a log. It was near ten o'clock when I heardhim moving about in our chamber, but I did not go in. He had gothimself into a huff, and I was determined to let him get himself out ofit. Just as I supposed he would come into the nursery, where I wassitting with the children, awaiting his lordship's pleasure to appearfor breakfast, he opens the door into the passage, and walks himselfoff. "

"Without his breakfast?"

"Yes, indeed. And I've seen nothing of him since. "

"That's bad, " said the friend. "A little tiff now and then is all wellenough in its place. But this is too serious. "

"So I feel it. Yet what am I to do?"

"You will have to manage better than this. "

"Manage?"

"Yes. I never have scenes of this kind with my husband. "

"He's not so close with you as Henry is with me. He isn't so mean, if Imust speak plainly, in money matters. "

"Well, I don't know about that. He isn't perfect by many degrees. Oneof his faults, from the beginning, has been a disposition to dole outmy allowance of money with a very sparing hand. I bore this for someyears, but it fretted me; and was the source of occasionalmisunderstandings that were very unpleasant. "

Mrs. Claxton paused. 

"Well; what remedy did you apply?" asked Mrs. Ellis. 

"A very simple one. I took what he was pleased to give me, and if itdidn't hold out, I bought what I needed, and had the bills sent in tothe store. "

"Capital!" exclaimed Mrs. Ellis. "Just what I have been thinking of. And it worked well?"

"To a charm. "

"What did Mr. Claxton say when the bills came in?"

"He looked grave, and said I would ruin him; but, of course, paid them. "

"Is that the way you got your new carpets?"

"Yes. "

"And your new blinds?"

"Yes. "

"Well, I declare! But doesn't Mr. Claxton diminish your allowances ofmoney?"

"Yes, but his credit is as good as his money. I never pay for drygoods, shoes, or groceries. The bills are all sent in to him. "

"And he never grumbles?"

"I can't just say that. It isn't a week since he assured me, with themost solemn face in the world, that if I didn't manage to keep thefamily on less than I did, he would certainly be ruined in hisbusiness. "

"The old story. "

"Yes. I've heard it so often, that it goes in at one ear and out at theother. "

"So have I. But I like your plan amazingly, and mean to adopt it. Infact, something of the kind was running through my head yesterday. "

"Do so; and you will save yourself a world of petty troubles. I findthat it works just right. "

This advice of her friend Mrs. Ellis pondered all the afternoon, and, after viewing the matter on all sides, deliberately concluded to act inlike manner. Yet, for all this, she could not conquer a certain angryfeeling that rankled towards her husband, and, in spite of sundry halfformed resolutions to meet him, when he returned, in a kind manner, herreception of him was such as the reader has seen. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

THE turning-point with Ellis had nearly come. It required, comparatively, little beyond the weight of a feather to givepreponderance to the scale of evil influences. Cara's reception, asshown in the last chapter, was no worse than he had anticipated, yet ithurt him none the less; for unkind words from her were always felt asblows, and coldness as the pressure upon his heart of an icy hand. Inthe love of his children, who were very fond of him, he sought a kindof refuge. Henry, his oldest child, was a bright, intelligent boybetween eight and nine years of age; and Kate, between six and seven, was a sweet-tempered, affectionate little girl, who scarcely ever lefther father's side when he was in the house. 

At the tea-table, only the children's voices were heard: they seemednot to perceive the coldness that separated their parents. Aftersupper, Mr. Ellis went up into the nursery with Henry and Kate, and waschatting pleasantly with them, when their mother, who had remainedbehind to give some directions to a servant, came into the room. 

"Come!" said she, in rather a sharp voice, as she entered, "it is timeyou were in bed. "

"Papa is telling us a story, " returned Kate, in a pleading tone: "justlet us wait until he is done. "

"I've got no time to wait for stories. Come!" said the mother, imperatively. 

"Papa will soon be done, " spoke up Henry. 

"It's early yet, mother, " said Ellis; "let them sit up a little while. I'm away all day, and don't see much of them. "

"I want them to go to bed now, " was the emphatic answer. "It's theirbed-time, and I wish them out of the way, so that I can go to work. Ifyou'd had their noise and confusion about you all day, as I have, you'dbe glad to see them in their beds. "

"You'll have to go, " said Mr. Ellis, in a tone of disappointment thathe could not conceal. "But get up early to-morrow morning, and I willtell you the rest of the story. Don't cry, dear!" And Mr. Ellis kissedtenderly his little girl, in whose eyes the tears were already starting. 

Slowly, and with sad faces, the children turned to obey their mother, who, not for a moment relenting, spoke to them sharply for their lackof prompt obedience. They went crying up-stairs, and she scolding. 

The moment the door of the nursery closed upon the retiring forms ofthe children, Mr. Ellis started to his feet with an impatientexclamation, and commenced pacing the room with rapid steps. 

"Temptations without and storms within, " said he, bitterly. "Oh, that Ihad the refuge of a quiet home, and the sustaining heart and wisecounsels of a loving wife!"

By the time Mrs. Ellis had undressed the children and got them snuglyin bed, her excited feelings were, in a measure, calmed; and fromcalmer feelings flowed the natural result--clearer thoughts. Then camethe conviction of having done wrong, and regret for a hasty and unkindact. 

"He sees but little of them, it is true, " she murmured, "and I mighthave let them remain up a little while longer, I'm too thoughtless, sometimes; but I get so tired of their noise and confusion, which iskept up all day long. "

And then she sighed. 

Slowly, and with gentler feelings, Mrs. Ellis went down-stairs. Betterthoughts were in her mind, and she was inwardly resolving to acttowards her husband in a different spirit from that just manifested. Onentering the nursery, where she had left him, she was not a littledisappointed to find that he was not there. 

"It isn't possible that he has gone out!" was her instant mentalejaculation; and she passed quickly into the adjoining chamber to seeif he were there. It was empty. 

For some time Mrs. Ellis stood in deep abstraction of mind; then, as asigh heaved her bosom, she moved from the chamber and went down-stairs. A glance at the hat-stand confirmed her fears; her husband had left thehouse. 

"Ah, me!" she sighed. "It is hard to know how to get along with him. Ifevery thing isn't just to suit his fancy, off he goes. I might humourhim more than I do, but it isn't in me to humour any one. And for a manto want to be humoured! Oh, dear! oh, dear! this is a wretched way tolive; it will kill me in the end. These men expect their own way inevery thing, and if they don't get it, then there is trouble. I'm notfit to be Henry's wife. He ought to have married a woman with lessindependence of spirit; one who would have been the mere creature ofhis whims and fancies. "

Mrs. Ellis, with a troubled heart, went up to the room where so many ofher lonely evening hours were spent. Taking her work-basket, she triedto sew; but her thoughts troubled her so, that she finally soughtrefuge therefrom in the pages of an exciting romance. 

The realizing power of imagination in Ellis was very strong. While hepaced the floor after his wife and children had left the room, therecame to him such a vivid picture of the coldness and reserve that mustmark the hours of that evening, if they were passed with Cara, that heturned from it with a sickening sense of pain. Under the impulse ofthat feeling he left the house, but with no purpose as to where he wasgoing. 

For as long, perhaps, as half an hour, Ellis walked the street, hismind, during most of the time, pondering the events of the day. Hisabsence from business was so much lost, and would throw double burdenson the morrow, for, besides the sum of two hundred dollars to bereturned to Wilkinson, he had a hundred to make up for another friendwho had accommodated him. But where was the money to come from? In thematter of borrowing, Ellis had never done much, and his resources inthat line were small. His losses at the gaming-table added so much tothe weight of discouragement under which he suffered!

"You play well. " Frequently had the artful tempter, Carlton, lured hisvictim on by this and other similar expressions, during the time he hadhim in his power; and thus flattered, Ellis continued at cards untilrepeated losses had so far sobered him as to give sufficient mentalresolution to enable him to stop. 

Now, these expressions returned to his mind, and their effect upon himwas manifested in the thought, --

"If I hadn't been drinking, he would have found in me a differentantagonist altogether. "

It was an easy transition from this state of mind to another. It wasalmost natural for the wish to try his luck again at cards to beformed; particularly as he was in great need of money, and saw nolegitimate means of getting the needed supply. 

The frequency with which Ellis had spent his evenings abroad made himacquainted with many phases of city life hidden from ordinaryobservers. Idle curiosity had more than once led him to visit certaingambling-houses on a mere tour of observation; and, during thesevisits, he had each time been tempted to try a game or two, in whichcases little had been lost or won. The motive for winning did not thenexist in tempting strength; and, besides, Ellis was naturally acautious man. Now, however, the motive did exist. 

"Yes, I do play well, " said he, mentally answering the rememberedcompliment of Carlton, "and but for your stealing away my brains withliquor, you would have found me a different kind of antagonist. "

Ellis had fifty dollars in his pocket. This sum was the amount of theday's sales of goods in his store. Instead of leaving the money in hisfire-closet, he had taken it with him, a sort of dim idea being in hismind that, possibly, it might be wanted for some such purpose as nowcontemplated. So he was all prepared for a trial of his skill; and thetrial was made. To one of the haunts of iniquity before visited in merereprehensible curiosity, he now repaired with the deliberate purpose ofwinning money to make up for losses already sustained, and to providefor the next day's payments. He went in with fifty dollars in hispocket-book; at twelve o'clock he left the place perfectly sober, andthe winner of three hundred dollars. Though often urged to drink, hehad, knowing his weakness, firmly declined in every instance. 

Cara, he found, as usual on returning home late at night, asleep. Hesought his pillow without disturbing her, and lay for a long time withhis thoughts busy among golden fancies. In a few hours he had won threehundred dollars, and that from a player of no common skill. 

"Yes, yes, Carlton said true. I play well. " Over and over did Ellisrepeat this, as he lay with his mind too much excited for sleep. 

Wearied nature yielded at last. His dreams repeated the incidents ofthe evening, and reconstructed them into new and varied forms. When heawoke, at day-dawn, from his restless slumber, it took but a short timefor his thoughts to arrange themselves into a purpose, and that purposewas to seek out Carlton as the first business of the day, and win backthe evidence of debt that he had against him. 

The meeting of Ellis and his wife at the breakfast-table had less ofcoldness and reserve in it than their meeting at tea-time. No referencewas made to the previous evening, nor to the fact of his havingremained out to a late hour. 

It was the intention of Ellis, on leaving his house after breakfast, torepair to his store and make some preliminary arrangements for the daybefore hunting up Carlton; but on his way thither, his appetiteconstrained him to enter a certain drinking-house just for a singleglass of brandy to give his nerves their proper tension. 

"Ah! how are you, my boy?" exclaimed Carlton, who was there before him, advancing as he spoke, and offering his hand in his usual frank way. 

"Glad to meet you!" returned Ellis. "Just the man I wished to see. Takea drink?"

"I don't care if I do. "

And the two men moved up to the bar. When they turned away, Carltondrew his arm familiarly within that of Ellis, and bending close to hisear, said--"You wish to take up your due-bills, I presume?

"You guess my wishes precisely, " was the answer. 

"Well, I shall be pleased to have you cancel them. Are you prepared todo it this morning?"

"I am--in the way they were created. "

A gleam of satisfaction lit up the gambler's face, which was partlyturned from Ellis; but he shrugged his shoulders, and said, in analtered voice--"I'm most afraid to try you again. "

"We're pretty well matched, I know, " said the victim. "If you decline, of course the matter ends. "

"I never like to be bantered, " returned Carlton. "If a man were to dareme to jump from the housetop, it would be as much as I could do torestrain myself. "

"I've got three hundred in my pocket, " said Ellis, "and I'm prepared tosee the last dollar of it. "

"Good stuff in you, my boy!" and Carlton laid his hand upon hisshoulder in a familiar way. "It would hardly be fair not to give you achance to get back where you were. So here's for you, win or lose, sinkor swim. "

And the two men left the tavern together. We need not follow them, nordescribe the contest that ensued. The result has already beenanticipated by the reader. A few hours sufficed to strip Ellis of histhree hundred dollars, and increase his debts to the gambler nearlydouble the former amount. 

CHAPTER XV. 

MRS. ELLIS knew, by the appearance of her husband, that he had not beendrinking on the night previous, late as he had remained away. This tooka weight from her feelings, and relieved her mind from self-upbraidingsthat would have haunted her all the day. After breakfast her mind beganto ponder what Mrs. Claxton had said on the day previous, and the moreshe thought of her advice and example, the more she felt inclined toadopt a similar course of action. On new Brussels carpets she had, longago, set her heart, and already worried her husband about them pastendurance. To obtain his consent to the purchase, she felt to behopeless. 

"I must get them in this way, or not at all. So much is clear. " Thusshe communed with herself. "He's able enough to pay the bill; if I hadany doubts of that, the matter would be settled; but I have none. "

With the prospect of getting the long coveted carpets, came anincreased desire for their possession. 

In imagination Mrs. Ellis saw them already on the floor. For some hoursthere was a struggle in her mind. Then the tempter triumphed. Shedressed herself, and went out for the purpose of making a selection. From this moment she did not hesitate. Calling at a well-known carpetwarehouse, she made her selection, and directed the bill, after thecarpet was made and put down, to be sent in to her husband. The priceof the carpet she chose was two dollars and a quarter a yard; and thewhole bill, including that of the upholsterer, would reach a hundredand sixty dollars. 

When Mrs. Ellis returned home, after having consummated her purpose, the thought of her beautiful carpet gave her far less pleasure than shehad anticipated. In every wrong act lies its own punishment. Uneasinessof mind follows as a sure consequence. From the idea of her beautifulparlours, her mind would constantly turn to her husband. 

"What _will_ he say?"

Ah! if she could only have answered that question satisfactorily!

"I will be so good, I will disarm him with kindness. I will humour himin every thing. I will not give him a chance to be angry. "

For a while this idea pleased the mind of Mrs. Ellis. But it onlybrought a temporary respite to the uneasiness produced by her wrong act. 

"I'll tell him just what I have done, " said she to herself, as thedinner hour approached, and Cara began to look for her husband'sreturn. "He might as well know it now, as in a week; and, besides, itwill give him time to prepare for the bill. Yes, that is what I willdo. "

Still, her mind felt troubled. The act was done, and no way of retreatremained open. The consequences must be met. 

The hour for Mr. Ellis to return home at length arrived, and his wifewaited his coming with a feeling of troubled suspense such as she hadrarely, if ever, before experienced. Smiles, ready to be forced to hercountenance, were wreathing themselves in her imagination. She meant tobe "_so_ good, " so loving, so considerate. A particular dish of whichhe was so fond had been ordered, --it was a month since it had gracedtheir table. 

But time moved on. It was thirty minutes past the dinner hour, and hewas still away. At last Mrs. Ellis gave him up. A full hour hadelapsed, and there was little probability of his return before theclose of business for the day. So she sat down with her children to eatthe meal which long delay had spoiled, and for which she had now butlittle appetite. 

Wearily passed the afternoon, and, as the usual time for Ellis'sappearance drew near, his wife began to look for his coming withfeelings of unusual concern. Not concern for him, but for herself. Shehad pretty well made up her mind to inform him of what she had done, but shrank from the scene which she had every reason to believe wouldfollow. 

The twilight had just begun to fall, and Mrs. Ellis, with her babe inher arms, was sitting in one of the parlours, waiting for and thinkingof her husband, when she heard his key in the door. He came in, andmoving along the entry with a quicker step than usual, went up-stairs. Supposing that, not finding her above, he would come down to theparlours, Mrs. Ellis waited nearly five minutes. Then she followed himup-stairs. Not finding him in the nursery, she passed into theirchamber. Here she found him, lying across the bed, on which he had, evidently, thrown himself under some strong excitement, or abandonment, of feeling, for his head was not upon a pillow, and he lay perfectlymotionless, as if unconscious of her presence. 

"Henry!" She called his name, but he made no answer, nor gave even asign. 

"Henry! Are you sick?"

There was a slight movement of his body, but no reply. 

"Henry! Henry!" Mrs. Ellis spoke in tones of anxiety, as she laid herhand upon him. "Speak! What is the matter? Are you sick?"

A long deep sigh was the only answer. 

"Why don't you speak, Henry?" exclaimed Mrs. Ellis. "You frighten medreadfully. "

"Don't trouble me just now, if you please, " said the wretched man, in alow, half-whispering voice. 

"But what ails you, Henry? Are you sick?"

"Yes. "

"How? Where? What can I do for you?"

"Nothing!" was faintly murmured. 

By this time, Cara began to feel really alarmed. Leaving the roomhurriedly, she gave the babe she held in her arms to one of herdomestics, and then returned. Bending, now, over her husband, she tookone of his hands, and clasping it tightly, said, in a voice of earnestaffection that went to the heart of Ellis with electric quickness--

"Do, Henry, say what ails you! Can't I get something for you?"

"I'll feel better in a little while, " whispered Ellis. 

"Let me send for the doctor. "

"Oh, no! no! I'm not so sick as that, " was answered. "I only feel alittle faint, not having taken any dinner. "

"Why did you go without a meal? It is not right to do so. I waited foryou so long, and was so disappointed that you did not come. "

There was more of tenderness and wife-like interest in Cara's words andmanner than had been manifested for a long time, and the feelings ofEllis were touched thereby. Partly raising himself on his elbow, hereplied--

"I know it isn't right; but I was so much engaged!"

The twilight pervading the room was too feeble to give Mrs. Ellis adistinct view of her husband's countenance. Its true expression, therefore, was veiled. 

"You feel better now, do you?" she inquired tenderly. 

"Yes, dear, " he answered, slightly pressing the hand she had laid inhis. 

"I will order tea on the table immediately. "

And Mrs. Ellis left the room. When she returned, he had risen from thebed, and was sitting in a large chair near one of the windows. 

"Are you better, dear?" tenderly inquired Mrs. Ellis. 

"Yes, a good deal better, " was answered. And the words were trulyspoken; for this unlooked-for, kind, even tender reception, had wroughtan almost instantaneous change. He had come home with a feeling ofdespair tugging at his heart. Nothing appeared before him but ruin. Nowthe light of hope, feeble though were the rays, came glimmering acrossthe darkness of his spirit. 

"I am glad to hear it!" was the warm response of Cara. "Oh! it is sowrong for you to neglect your meals. You confine yourself too closelyto business. I wanted you to come home to-day particularly, for I hadprepared for you, just in the way you like it, such a nice dish ofmaccaroni. "

"It was very thoughtful in you, dear. I wish I had been at home toenjoy it with you. "

Tea being announced, Mrs. Ellis arose and said:

"Come; supper is on the table. You must break your long fast. "

"First let me wash my hands and face, " returned Ellis, who wished togain time, as well as use all the means, to restore his countenance toa better expression than it wore, ere meeting Cara under the glare ofstrong lamp light. 

A basin was filled for him by his wife, and, after washing his handsand face, he left the chamber with her, and went to the dining-room. Here Cara got a distinct view of her husband's countenance. Many linesof the passion and suffering written there during that, to him, ever-to-be-remembered day, were still visible, and, as Cara read themwithout comprehending their import, a vague fear came hovering over herheart. Instantly her thoughts turned to what she had been doing, andmost sincerely did she repent of the act. 

"I will confess it to him, this very night, " such was her mentalresolution, --"and promise, hereafter never to do aught against hiswishes. "

Notwithstanding Ellis had taken no dinner, he had little appetite forhis evening meal; and the concern of his wife was increased onobserving that he merely tasted his food and sipped his tea. 

The more than ordinary trouble evinced, as well in the whole manner ofEllis as in the expression of his face and in the tones of his voice, oppressed the heart of Cara. She felt that something more than usualmust have occurred to disturb him. Could it be possible that any thingwas wrong in his business? The thought caused a low thrill to tremblealong her nerves. He had frequently spoken of his affairs as not veryprosperous; was always, in fact, making a "sort of a poor mouth. " Butall this she had understood as meant for effect--as a cover for hisopposition to her wish to spend. What if it were all as he hadrepresented?

Such thoughts could not but sober the mind of Mrs. Ellis, and causedher manner towards her husband to assume an air of tenderness andconcern to which it had too long been a stranger. How quickly was thisfelt by Ellis! How gratefully did his heart respond to his wife'sgentler touches on its tensely strung chords!

That evening Henry Ellis spent at home. Not much conversation passedbetween him and his wife; for the mind of each was too heavily burdenedwith thoughts of its own to leave room for an interchange of ideas. Butthe manner of Cara towards her husband was subdued, and even tender;and he felt it as the grateful earth feels the strength-givingimpression of the gentle rain. Leaving the past, to the future boththeir thoughts turned; and both strengthened themselves in goodresolutions. 

Cara resolved to be a better wife--to be more considerate and moreyielding towards her husband. And Ellis resolved to abandon, at everysacrifice the vicious habits he had indulged, --habits which, within aday or two, had led him aside from the path of safety, and conductedhim to the brink of a precipice, from which he now started back with athrilling sense of fear. 

More than twenty times during that evening was Cara on the eve oftelling her husband about the carpet. But she shrank from theconfession. 

"In the morning I will do it, " was her final conclusion; thus puttingoff the evil hour. But morning found her no better prepared for thetask. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

ALL through the night, the mind of Ellis was haunted with troubleddreams; but, on waking, he felt calm, and good purposes were in hisheart. The manner of Cara still being tender and considerate, he wentforth feeling the strength of her love, and resolving, for her sake, and the sake of his children, to free himself from his presententanglements, cost what it would. 

Seven hundred dollars was the sum he had lost at the gaming-table andfor over five hundred of this, Carlton held his obligations, payable ondemand. Besides this, he owed on account of temporary loans, frombusiness friends, about an equal amount. Moreover, on that day, a noteof three hundred dollars fell due; and in the coming ten days, about athousand dollars had to be paid into bank. The aggregate of all theseobligations, to be met within two weeks, was two thousand three hundreddollars. 

As Ellis looked at this formidable amount, and calculated hisresources, he felt, for a time, utterly discouraged. But a reactionfrom this state of feeling came, and he set his mind vigorously to workin devising means for the pressing emergency. 

"There is one thing certain, " said he to himself, as he pondered thematter. "Carlton will have to wait. So there are five hundred dollarspushed ahead. I received no value in the case, and shall not hurrymyself to make payment. "

Even while Ellis thus spoke, a man called and presented the due-billshe had given to the gambler. 

"I can't take these up now, " was the prompt reply. 

"My directions are to collect them forthwith, " said the man. 

"Mr. Carlton will have to wait my convenience. " Ellis spoke withconsiderable irritation of manner. 

"Shall I say so to him?" was asked, in a tone that involved a warningof consequences. 

"You can say to him what you please, " answered Ellis, sharply. 

"Oh! very well!"

The man turned away, and walked towards the door. He paused, however, after going a short distance; stood, as if reflecting, for somemoments, and, then came back. 

"You had better think over this a little;" said he, in a conciliatoryvoice. "The debt is, I need not remind you, one of _honour_; and it isneither wise nor safe for a man of business to let such a debt behanded over for legal collection. You understand, I presume?"

The suggestion caused Ellis to start, involuntarily. He saw, at aglance, the dangerous position in which he stood. Only by retaining afair credit would it be possible for him to surmount his presentdifficulties; and his credit would be instantly blasted if a suit werebrought against him by a man he had now good reasons to believe wasknown in the community as a gambler. 

"You understand me?" repeated the collector, in a tone of markedsignificance. 

Ellis tried to regain his self-possession, and affect indifference. Buthis feelings were poorly disguised. 

"Just say to Mr. Carlton, " he replied, "that it is not my purpose togive him any trouble about this matter. I will take up the due-bills. But I have some heavy payments to make, and cannot do it just now. "

"When will it be done?"

"That I am unable, just now, to say. "

"Can't you give me a part of the money today?"

Ellis shook his head. 

"I have notes in bank, and they must take the precedence of all otherpayments. "

"To-morrow, then?"

"I have five hundred dollars to pay to-morrow. "

The man's countenance began to lower. 

"Just go to Mr. Carlton, if you please, and tell him what I say. He's aman of common sense;--he will listen to reason. "

"My orders to collect were imperative, " persisted the man. 

"Tell him that you can't collect to-day. That I must and will havetime. There now! Go! I've something else to do besides arguing thismatter fruitlessly. "

The collector turned off with an angry, threatening look. A few minutesafter he was gone, and ere the mind of Ellis had recovered its balance, a customer called in and paid a bill of a hundred dollars. Thisawakened a feeling of confidence; and, in a hopeful spirit, Ellis wentforth to make arrangements for the balance of what was wanted for theday. He found no difficulty in procuring the sum he needed, which wasfour hundred dollars. After taking up his note, he called upon hisfriend Wilkinson with the two hundred dollars he had failed to returnthe day before, when, after apologizing for his neglect, he asked himhow he would be off in regard to money matters during the ensuing twoweeks. 

"Tight as a drum, " was answered. 

"I'm sorry to hear that, " replied Ellis, showing more disappointmentthan he wished to appear; "for I have made some calculation on you. Ihave nearly two thousand dollars to take care of in the next ten days. "

"I wish I could help you. But, indeed, I can not, " said Wilkinson, looking serious. "I have been a good deal crowded of late, and shallhave my hands full, and more than full for some time to come. I neverknew money so tight as it is just now. "

"Nor I neither. Well, I suppose we shall get through somehow. But Imust own that things look dark. "

"The darkest hour is just before the break of day, " said Wilkinson, with an earnestness that expressed his faith in what he said. His faithwas born of a resolution to separate himself from all dangerouscompanionship and habits, and a deeply felt conviction of theall-sustaining strength of his wife's self-denying affection. 

"Yes--yes--so the proverb says, and so the poet sings, " returned Ellis, thoughtfully. "This seems to be my darkest hour. God grant it be onlythe precursor of day!"

"Amen!" The solemn response of Wilkinson was involuntary. 

"And so you can't help me?" said Ellis, recovering himself, andspeaking in a more cheerful voice. 

"Indeed I cannot. "

"Well, help will come, I suppose. There is nothing like trying. So goodmorning. Time is too precious to waste just now. "

Between the store of Wilkinson and that of Ellis was a refectory, wherethe latter often repaired for a lunch and something to drink abouteleven or twelve o'clock. It was now twelve, and, as Ellis had takenonly a light breakfast, and omitted his morning dram, he felt bothhungry and dry. Almost as a matter of course, he was about enteringthis drinking-house, when, as he stepped on the threshold, his eyesrested on the form of Carlton, standing by the bar with a glass in hishand. Quickly he turned away, and kept on to his store, where hequenched his thirst with a copious draught of ice-water. Not a drop ofliquor had passed his lips when he went home at dinner-time. And he wasas free from its influence when he joined his family at the close ofday. Cara received him with the kindness and consideration that were sograteful to his feelings; and he spent the evening, safe from alldangers, at home. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

"WILL you have the money now, dear?" said Mrs. Wilkinson, as she arose, with her husband, from the dinner-table, on the day she announced tohim the fact that she had saved a few hundred dollars, out of theamount given her for the expenses of the family. 

"No, not to-day, " replied Wilkinson. "In fact, Mary, " he added, "Idon't feel just right about taking your money; and I think I mustmanage to get along without it. "

"John!" Mrs. Wilkinson seemed hurt by her husband's words. 

"It is yours, Mary, " was replied with much tenderness of manner. "Youhave saved it for some particular purpose, and I shall not feel happyto let it go back again and become absorbed in my business. "

"Have we divided interests, John?" said Mrs. Wilkinson, in a low, serious voice, as she clung to her husband's arm, and looked steadilyinto his face. 

"I hope not, Mary. "

"Am I not your wife?"

"Yes, yes; and one of the best of wives. "

"And do I not love you?"

"Never for a single moment has a doubt of your love been whispered inmy heart. "

"Such a whisper would have wronged me. Yes, my husband, I do love you, and as my very life. "

Wilkinson bent down and pressed his lips to hers. 

"Love ever seeks to bless its object, " continued Mary, "and finds, indoing so, its purest delight. Do you think I could use the money Ihave, in any way that would bring me so much pleasure as by placing itin your hands? Surely your heart says no. "

"I will take it, dear, " said Wilkinson, after a slight pause. His voicewas unsteady as he spoke; "and you will have your reward, " he added, intones filled with a prophecy for the future. 

"Never--never--never shall act of mine bring a shadow to that dearface!" was the mental ejaculation of Wilkinson, as, with an impulse ofaffection he could not restrain, he threw his arms around his wife andhugged her to his bosom. 

"Bless you! Bless you, Mary!" came, almost sobbing, from hisoverflowing heart. 

On his way to his store, that afternoon, Wilkinson felt the old desireto stop and get his usual glass of brandy, and he was actually about toenter a drinking-house, when the image of his wife came so distinctlybefore his mind, that it seemed almost like a personal presence. He sawa shadow upon her face, and the dimness of tears was in her tender blueeyes. 

"No!" said he resolutely, and with an audible expression, and quicklypassed on. 

How his bosom rose and fell, with a panting motion, as if from somestrong physical effort. 

"What an escape! It was the very path of danger!" such were histhoughts. "To venture into that path again were the folly of a madman. No, Mary, no! Your love shall draw me back with its strong attraction. A new light seems breaking all around me. I see as I never saw before. There is the broad way to destruction, and here winds the narrow butpleasant path of safety. Ruined hopes, broken hearts, and sad wrecks ofhumanity are scattered thickly along the first, but heavenlyconfidence, joyful hearts, and man, with the light of celestial truthupon his upturned face, is to be found in the other. Shall I hesitatein which to walk? No!"

With a quicker and more elastic step Wilkinson pursued his way, andreached his store just as a customer from the country, who had beenwaiting for him, was leaving. 

"Just in time, " said the latter. "I've been waiting for you over halfan hour. "

"I dined later to-day than usual, " returned Wilkinson. 

"I wanted to settle my bill, but there were two or three items whichyour clerk could not explain. So I concluded to let the matter standover until I was in the city again, which will be in the course of afew weeks. However, as you are here, we will arrange it now. "

So the two men walked back to the desk upon which lay Wilkinson'saccount books. The customer's bill was referred to, and one or twoslight discrepancies reconciled. The amount of it was nearly twohundred dollars. 

"You will take off five per cent. For cash, I presume?"

"Certainly, " replied Wilkinson. 

The money was paid down. 

"So much for not stopping on the way to business for a glass of brandy. "

This thought was spontaneous in the mind of Wilkinson. After hiscustomer had left, he fell into a musing state, in which many thoughtswere presented, that, from the pain and self-condemnation theyoccasioned, he tried to push from his mind. But he was not able to dothis. Much of the history of his daily life for the past few yearspresented itself, and, in reviewing it, many things stood out in boldrelief, which were before regarded as of little moment. Not until nowdid he clearly see the dangerous position in which he stood. 

"So near the brink of ruin!" he sighed. "I knew the path to be adangerous one; I knew that other feet had slipped; but felt secure inmy own strength. Ah! that strength was weakness itself. I a drunkard!"He shuddered as the thought presented itself. "And Mary, the hopeless, brokenhearted wife of one lost to every ennobling sentiment of thehuman mind! It is awful to think of it!"

Wilkinson was deeply disturbed. For some time longer his mind dwelt onthis theme: then, in the depths of his own thoughts, and in thepresence of Heaven, he resolved to be in safety, by avoiding the pathof danger; to put forever from his lips the cup from which he had sooften drank confusion. 

Suddenly he appeared to be lifted above the level he had occupied, intoa region whose atmosphere was purer, and to a position from which hesaw things in new relations. It was only then that he fullycomprehended the real danger from which he had escaped. 

"And my wife has saved me!" was the involuntary acknowledgment of hisheart. 

The rest of the afternoon was spent by Wilkinson in a carefulinvestigation of his affairs. He ascertained the entire amount he wouldhave to pay in the coming six months, and also his probable resourcesduring the time. The result was very discouraging. But for the sum lostto Carlton he would have seen all clear; but the abstraction of so muchlessened his available means, and would so clog the wheels of hisbusiness as to make all progress exceedingly difficult. 

There was a shadow on the brow of Wilkinson when he met his wife thatevening, and she saw it the moment he came in, notwithstanding hiseffort to seem cheerful. This shadow fell upon her heart, but she didnot permit its reproduction on her countenance. 

After tea, Mary was busied for a short time in getting little Ella tosleep. When she returned, at length, to their sitting-room, she had asmall package in her hand, which, with a smiling face, she laid uponthe table at which her husband sat reading. 

"What is that, dear?" he asked, lifting his eyes to her face. 

"We shall soon see, " was answered, and Mrs. Wilkinson commenced openingthe package. In a moment or two, five or six rolls of coin wereproduced, nicely enveloped in paper. 

"This is my sub-treasury, " said she, with a smile. "I took an accountof the deposits to-day, and find just five hundred and fifty dollars. So, even if Mr. Ellis should fail to return the two hundred dollars heborrowed, you will still be three hundred and fifty dollars better offthan you thought you were. So push every gloomy thought from yourheart. All will come out right in the end. "

Wilkinson looked at the money like one who could scarcely believe theevidence of his senses. 

"This for the present, " said Mrs. Wilkinson, leaning towards herhusband, and fixing her gentle, yet earnest, loving eyes upon his face. "This for the present. And now let me give you my plans for the future. Your business is to earn money, and mine to expend so much of it asdomestic comfort and well-being requires. Thus far I believe theexpenditure has not been in a just ratio to the earnings. Speak outplainly, dear husband! and say if I am not right. "

Wilkinson sat silent, gradually withdrawing his eyes from those of hiswife, and letting them fall to the floor. 

"Yes, I am right, " said the latter, after a pause. "And such being thecase, you have become pressed for money to conduct your business. Achange, then, is required. We must lessen our expenses. And now listento what I have to propose. I went this afternoon to see Mrs. Capron, and she says, that if we will furnish our own room, she will board usand a nurse for ten dollars a week. "

"Board us!"

"Yes, dear. Won't it be much better for us to take boarding for two orthree years, until we can afford to keep a house?"

"But our furniture, Mary? What is to be done with that?"

"All provided for, " said Mrs. Wilkinson, with sparkling eyes, and acountenance flushed with the excitement she felt. "We will have a sale. "

"A sale!"

"Yes, a sale. And this will give you more money. We will live at halfthe present cost, and you will get back into your business at least athousand dollars that never should have been taken from it. "

"But the sacrifice, Mary!" said Wilkinson, as if seeking an argumentagainst his wife. 

"Did you never hear of such a thing, " she replied, "as throwing over apart of the cargo to save the ship?"

"Bless you! Bless you, Mary!" exclaimed Wilkinson, in a broken voice, as he hid his face upon his wife's bosom. "You have, indeed, saved mefrom shipwreck, body and soul, just as I was about to be thrown uponthe breakers! Heaven will reward your devoted love, your tenderness, your long-suffering and patient forbearance. Thank God for such a wife!"

And the whole frame of the strong man quivered. 

It was many minutes before either of them spoke; then Mr. Wilkinsonlifted his face, and said calmly--

"Yes, Mary, we will do as you propose; for you have spoken wisely. Iwill need every dollar in my business that I can get. And now let mesay a few words more. In times past I have not been as kind to you--asconsiderate--"

"Dear husband! let the past be as if it had not been. You were alwayskind, gentle, loving"--

"Let me speak what is in my mind. I wish to give it utterance, "interrupted Wilkinson. "In times past, I have too often soughtcompanionship from home, and such companionship has ever been dangerousand debasing. I have this day resolved to correct that error; and Iwill keep my resolution. Henceforth, home shall be to me the dearestplace. And there is one more thing I wish to say"--

The voice of Wilkinson changed its expression, while a slight flushcame into his face. 

"There is one habit that I have indulged, and which I feel to be anexceedingly dangerous one. That habit I have solemnly promised, in thesight of Heaven, to correct. I will no longer put to my lips the cup ofconfusion. "

Wilkinson was not prepared for the effect these words had upon hiswife, who, instantly uttering a cry of joy, flung herself into herhusband's arms, sobbing--

"Oh! I am the happiest woman alive this day!"

CHAPTER XVIII. 

TO Ellis the trials of the next two weeks were of the severestcharacter. Yet, he kept himself away from drinking-houses, andstruggled manfully to retain his feet under him. In this he was onlysustained by the kindness of his wife's manner, and the interest sheseemed to feel in him. Had she acted towards him with her usual want ofaffectionate consideration, he would have fallen under the heavyburdens that rested upon him. Scarcely a day passed in which he was notvisited by Carlton's agent, and fretted almost past endurance by hisimportunities. But he steadily refused to take up any of the due-bills;at the same time that he promised to cancel them at some future period. This did not, of course, suit the gambler, who sent threats of animmediate resort to legal proceedings. 

Of all this Cara knew nothing; yet she could not help seeing that herhusband was troubled, and this caused her to muse on what she had donewith increasing uneasiness. She no longer took any pleasure in thethoughts of new parlour carpets. But it was too late, now, to retraceher steps of error. The carpets were already in the hands of theupholsterers, and a few days would see them on the floor. 

"I must tell him about them, " said Cara to herself, about a week afterher act of folly, as she sat, towards the close of day, brooding overwhat she had done. "To be forewarned is to be forearmed. In a few daysthe carpets will be sent home, and then"--

A slight inward shudder was felt by Cara, as she paused, with thesentence unfinished. 

"But I'm foolish, " she added, recovering herself, "very foolish. Whyneed I be so afraid of Henry? I have some freedom of action left--someright of choice. These were not all yielded in our marriage. His willwas not made the imperative law of all my actions. No--no. And herelies the ground of difference between us. The fact is, he is to blamefor this very thing, for he drove me to it. "

But such thoughts did not satisfy the mind of Mrs. Ellis, nor removethe sense of wrong that oppressed her spirit. So, in a little while, she came back to her resolution to tell her husband, on that veryevening, all about what she had done. This was her state of mind, whenher friend Mrs. Claxton called in. After the first pleasant greeting, the lady, assuming a slight gravity of manner, said--

"Do you know, Mrs. Ellis, that I've thought a good deal about thematter we talked of the last time I saw you?"

"To what do you allude?" asked Cara. 

"To running up bills without your husband's knowledge. All men are notalike, and Mr. Ellis might not take it so easily as Mr. Claxton hasdone. The fact is, I have been checked off a little, so to speak, within a day or two, and it has rather set me to thinking"

"In what way?" inquired Mrs. Ellis. 

"I will tell you--but, remember, this is in the strictest confidence. It might injure my husband's business if it got out. In fact, I don'tthink I have any right to tell you; but, as I advised you to follow myexample, I must give you convincing proof that this example is a badone. Last evening, when Mr. Claxton came home, he looked unusuallyserious. 'Is any thing wrong?' I asked of him, manifesting in my voiceand manner the concern I really felt. 'Yes, ' said he, looking mefixedly in the eyes--'there is something wrong. I came within an ace ofbeing protested to-day. ' 'Indeed! How?' I exclaimed. 'Listen, ' said he, 'and you shall hear; and while you hear, believe, for I solemnlydeclare that every word I utter is the truth, and nothing but thetruth. I could not spare the cash when your new carpet and upholsterybill came in, so I gave a note for the amount, which was over twohundred dollars. The note was for six months, and fell due to-day. Ialso gave a note for your new sofa, chairs, and French bedstead, because I had no cash with which to pay the bill. It was two hundredand fifty dollars, and the note given at four months. That also felldue to-day. Now, apart from these, I had more than my hands full totake up business paper, this being an unusually heavy day. At everypoint where I could do so I borrowed; but at half-past two o'clock Iwas still short the amount of these two notes. While in the utmostdoubt and perplexity as to what I should do in my difficulty, two noteswere handed in. One contained a dry goods bill which you had run up ofover a hundred and fifty dollars, and the other a shoe bill oftwenty-five. I cannot describe to you the paralyzing sense ofdiscouragement that instantly came over me. It is hopeless for me tostruggle on at such a disadvantage, said I to myself--utterly hopeless. And I determined to give up the struggle--to let my notes lie over, andthus end the unequal strife in which I was engaged; for, to this, I sawit must come at last. Full twenty minutes went by, and I still sat inthis state of irresolution. Then, as a vivid perception of consequencescame to my mind, I aroused myself to make a last, desperate effort. Hurriedly drawing a note at thirty days for five hundred dollars, Itook it to a money-lender, whom I knew I could tempt by the offer of alarge discount. He gave me for it a check on the bank in which my noteswere deposited, for four hundred and fifty dollars. Just as the clockwas striking three, I entered the banking-house. '

"My husband paused. I saw by the workings of his face and by the largebeads of perspiration which stood upon his forehead, that he was indeedin earnest. I never was so startled by any thing in my life. It seemedfor a time as if it were only a dream. I need not say how sincerely Irepented of what I had done, nor how I earnestly promised my husbandnever again to contract a debt of even a dollar without his knowledge. I hope, " added Mrs. Claxton, "that you have not yet been influenced bymy advice and example; and I come thus early to speak in your ears aword of caution. Pray do not breathe aught of what I have told you--itmight injure my husband--I only make the revelation as a matter of dutyto one I tried to lead astray. "

The thoughts of Mrs. Ellis did not run in a more peaceful channel afterthe departure of her friend. But she resolved to confess every thing toher husband, and promise to conform herself more to his wishes in thefuture. 

"What, " she said, "if he should be in like business difficulties withMr. Claxton? He has looked serious for a week past, and has remained athome every evening during the time--a thing unusual. And I don't thinkhe has used liquor as freely as common. Something is the matter. Oh, Iwish I had not done that!"

While such thoughts were passing through the mind of Mrs. Ellis, herhusband came home. She met him with an affectionate manner, which hereturned. But there was a cloud on his brow that even her smile couldnot drive away. Even as she met him, words of confession were on thetongue of Mrs. Ellis, but she shrank from giving them utterance. 

After tea she resolved to speak. But, when this set-time ofacknowledgment came, she was as little prepared for the task as before. Mr. Ellis looked so troubled, that she could not find it in her heartto add to the pressure on his mind an additional weight. And so theevening passed, the secret of Mrs. Ellis remaining undivulged. And so, day after day went on. 

At length, one morning, the new carpet was sent home and put down. Itwas a beautiful carpet; but, as Mrs. Ellis stood looking upon it, afterthe upholsterer had departed, she found none of the pleasure sheanticipated. 

"Oh, why, why, why did I do this?" she murmured. "Why was I tempted tosuch an act of folly?"

Gradually the new carpet faded from the eyes of Mrs. Ellis, and she sawonly the troubled face of her husband. It was within an hour ofdinner-time, and in painful suspense she waited his arrival. Variousplans for subduing the excitement which she saw would be created in hismind, and for reconciling him to the expense of the carpets, werethought over by Mrs. Ellis: among those was a proposition that heshould give a note for the bill, which she would pay, when it matured, out of savings from her weekly allowance of money. 

"I can and will do it, " said Mrs. Ellis, resolutely: her thought dweltlonger and longer on this suggestion. "I hope he will not be too angryto listen to what I have to say, when he comes home and sees thecarpet. He's rather hasty sometimes. "

While in the midst of such thoughts, Mrs. Ellis, who had left theparlour, heard the shutting of the street-door, and the tread of herhusband in the passage. Glancing at the timepiece on the mantel, shesaw that it was half an hour earlier than he usually came home. Eagerlyshe bent her ear to listen. All was soon still. He had entered therooms below, or paused on the threshold. A few breathless momentspassed, then a smothered exclamation was heard, followed by two orthree heavy foot-falls and the jarring of the outer door. Mr. Ellis hadleft the house!

"Gone! What does it mean?" exclaimed Mrs. Ellis, striking her handstogether, while a strange uneasiness fell upon her heart. A long timeshe sat listening for sounds of his return; but she waited in vain. Itwas fully an hour past their usual time for dining, when she sat downto the table with her children, but not to partake of food herself. Leaving Mrs. Ellis to pass the remainder of that unhappy day with herown troubled and upbraiding thoughts, we will return to her husband, and see how it fares with him. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

FOR hours after his wife had sunk into the forgetfulness of sleep, Ellis lay awake, pondering over the ways and means by which he was tomeet his engagements for the next day, which, exclusive of Carlton'sdemand, were in the neighbourhood of a thousand dollars. During theprevious two weeks, he had paid a good deal of money, but he was reallybut little better off therefor, the money so paid having been mainlyprocured through temporary loans from business friends. Most of it hehad promised to return on the morrow. Earnestly as the mind of Ellisdwelt on the subject, he was not able to devise the means of gettingsafely through the next day. 

"And what if I do get over the difficult place?" was the despondingconclusion of his mind--"ultimate failure is inevitable, unless a greatreduction can be made in expenses. At present, our living exceeds theprofits on my business. Ah! if I could only make Cara understand this!She has been more considerate and wife-like of late; but I fear to sayone word about the embarrassed state of my affairs, lest the sunshineof love be again darkened with clouds and storms. "

With such thoughts in his mind, Ellis fell asleep. 

On the next morning, he repaired early to his place of business, inorder to have time fully to digest his plan of operations for the day. He had many doubts as to his ability to get through, but was resolutenot to yield without a vigorous struggle. Of the amount to be paid, only four hundred was for notes in bank. The rest was on borrowed moneyaccount. Fully an hour and a half was spent in drawing off certainaccounts, and in determining the line of operations for the morning. Onreceiving two hundred dollars for these accounts, Ellis thought hemight with safety calculate; and a lad was sent out to see to theircollection. Then he started forth himself. First in order, he deemed itbest to see if he could not get a little more time on some of hisborrowed money. This was a delicate operation, and its attempt couldonly, he felt, be justified by the exigencies of the case. The largestsum to be returned was three hundred dollars. He had borrowed it from amerchant in good circumstances, who could at any time command histhousands, and to whose credit there usually remained heavy balances inbank. But he was exceedingly punctilious in all business matters. 

Both these facts Ellis knew. It would put the merchant to noinconvenience whatever to continue the accommodation for ten dayslonger; but the policy of asking this was felt to be a veryquestionable one, as it would be most likely to create in his mind adoubt of Ellis's standing, and a doubt in that quarter would beinjurious. Still, the case was so pressing, that Ellis determined tosee him. So, assuming a pleasant, partly unconcerned air, he calledupon the merchant. 

"Good morning, Mr. A--, " said he, in a cheerful tone. 

"Good morning, friend Ellis, " returned the merchant, pushing hisspectacles above his forehead, and fixing his eyes upon the face of hisvisitor, with a sharp, penetrating look which rather belied the smilethat played about his lips. 

"Let me see! Isn't it to-day that I am to return you the three hundreddollars borrowed last week?"

"I don't remember, but can tell you in a moment, " replied A--, replacing his glasses, and taking from a pigeon-hole in the desk beforewhich he sat a small memorandum-book. After consulting this, hereplied--

"Yes: you are right. It is to be returned to-day. "

"So I thought. Very well. I'll send you a check around during themorning. That will answer, I presume?"

"Oh, certainly--certainly. "

So far, nothing was gained. A hurried debate, as to the policy ofasking a few days more on the loan, took place in the mind of Ellis. Hethen said--

"If just the same to you, it will be more convenient for me to returnthis money on the day after to-morrow. "

There was a slight contraction of brow on the part of Mr. A--, whoreplied, rather coldly--

"I shall want it to-day, Mr. Ellis. "

"Oh, very well--very well, " said Ellis, hiding artfully hisdisappointment. "It will be all the same. I will send you around acheck in a little while. "

As he left the store, A-- said to himself--

"Of all things, I like to see punctuality in the matter of engagements. The man who promises to return in an hour the money he borrows from youshould keep his word to the minute. "

The failure to get a few days' extension of time on so important a sumhad the effect to dispirit Ellis a good deal. He left the store of themerchant in a despondent mood, and was returning towards his own placeof business, when he met Wilkinson. Grasping the hand of the latterwith the eagerness of one who knows, in a great extremity, that he isface to face with a real friend, he said--

"You must help me to-day. "

"I don't see that it is possible, Ellis, " was replied. "What amount doyou want?"

"I must have a thousand dollars. "

"So much?"

"Yes. But where the sum is to be obtained is more than I can divine. "

"Is all to go into bank?"

"No. Six hundred is for borrowed money. "

"To whom is the latter due?"

"I must return three hundred to A--. "

"He can do without it for a few days longer. "

"I have just seen him; but he says it must be returned to-day. "

"He does?"

"Yes. He wants to use it. "

Wilkinson stood thoughtfully for some time. 

"Can you return the sum in a week?" he then asked. 

"O yes; easily. "

"Very well I'll go and ask him to loan me three hundred for a week. He'll do it, I know. You shall have the use of it for the timespecified. "

"If you can get me that sum, you will place me under an everlastingobligation, " said Ellis, with more feeling than he wished to display. 

Twenty minutes afterward the money was in his hands. It had beenobtained from A--, and during the morning returned to him in payment ofEllis's loan. 

So much accomplished, Ellis turned his thoughts towards the ways andmeans for raising the seven hundred dollars yet required for the day'sbusiness. By twelve o'clock all of his borrowed money was returned; buthis notes still remained in bank. In view of the difficulties yet to besurmounted, he felt that he had erred in not making it the firstbusiness of the day to take up his notes, and thus get beyond thedanger of protest. But it was too late now for regrets to be of anyavail. Four hundred dollars must come from some quarter, or ruin wascertain. 

But from whence was aid to come? He had not spent an idle moment sincehe came to his store in the morning, and had so fully passed over thelimits within which his resources lay, that little ground yet remainedto be broken, and the promise of that was small. 

While Ellis stood meditating, in much perplexity of mind, what stepnext to take, a man entered his store, and, approaching him, read aloudfrom a paper which he drew from his pocket, a summons to answer beforean alderman in the case of Carlton, who had brought separate suits onhis due-bills, each being for an amount less than one hundred dollars. 

"Very well, I will attend to it, " said Ellis in a voice of assumedcalmness, and the officer retired. 

Slowly seating himself in a chair that stood by a low writing-desk, theunhappy man tried to compose his thoughts, in order that he might seeprecisely in what position this new move would place him. He couldbring nothing in bar of Carlton's claim unless the plea of its being agambling debt were urged; and that would only ruin his credit in thebusiness community. A hearing of the case was to take place in a week, when judgment would go against him, and then the quick work of anexecution would render the immediate payment of the five hundreddollars necessary. All this Ellis revolved in his thoughts, and thendeliberately asked himself the question, if it were not better to giveup at once. For a brief space of time, in the exhausted state producedby the un-equal struggle in which he was engaged, he felt likeabandoning every thing; but a too-vivid realization of the consequencesthat would inevitably follow spurred his mind into a resolution to makeone more vigorous effort to overcome the remaining difficulties of theday. With this new purpose, came a new suggestion of means, and he wasin the act of leaving his store to call upon a friend not beforethought of, when a carpet dealer, whom he knew very well, came in, andpresented a bill. 

"What is this?" asked Mr. Ellis. 

"The bill for your parlour carpets, " was answered. 

"What parlour carpets? You are in an error. We have no new parlourcarpets. The bill is meant for some one else. "

"Oh, no, " returned the man, smiling. "The carpets were ordered twoweeks ago; and this morning they were put down by the upholsterer. "

"Who ordered them?"

"Mrs. Ellis. "

"She did!"

"Yes; and directed the bill sent in to you?"

"What is the amount?"

"One hundred and sixty-eight dollars. "

"Very well, " said Ellis, controlling himself, "I will attend to it. "

The man retired, leaving the mind of Ellis in a complete sea ofagitation. 

"If this be so, " he muttered in a low, angry voice, "then is all over!To struggle against such odds is hopeless. But I cannot believe it. There is--there must be an error. The carpets are not mine. He hasmistaken some other woman for my wife, and some other dwelling formine. Yes, yes, it must be so. Cara would never dare to do this! Butall doubt may be quickly settled. "

And with, this last sentence on his lips, Ellis left his store, andwalked with hurried steps homeward. Entering his house, he stood for amoment or two in one of the parlour doors. A single glance sufficed. Alas! it was but too true. 

"Mad woman!" he exclaimed, in a low, bitter tone. "Mad woman! You havedriven me over the precipice!"

Turning quickly away, he left the house--to return to his store?--Alas!no. With him the struggle was over. The manly spirit, that had, fornearly two weeks, battled so bravely with difficulty without andtemptation within, yielded under this last assault. In less than anhour, all sense of pain was lost in the stupor of inebriation!

CHAPTER XX. 

WE will not trace, minutely, the particulars attendant on the headlongdownward course of Henry Ellis. The causes leading thereto have beenfully set forth, and we need not refer back to them. Enough, that thefall was complete. The wretched man appeared to lose all strength ofmind, all hope in life, all self-respect. Not even a feeble effort wasopposed to the down-rushing torrent of disaster that swept away everyvestige of his business. For more than a week he kept himself sostupefied with brandy, that neither friends nor creditors could getfrom him any intelligible statement in regard to his affairs. In thewish of the latter for an assignment, he passively acquiesced, andpermitted all his effects to be taken from his hands. And so he wasthrown upon the world, with his family, helpless, penniless, crushed inspirit, and weak as a child in the strong grasp of an over-masteringappetite, which had long been gathering strength for his day ofweakness. 

Over the sad history of the succeeding five years let us draw a veil. We have no heart to picture its suffering, its desolation, itshopelessness. If, in the beginning, there was too much pride in theheart of Mrs. Ellis, all was crushed out under the iron heel of grimadversity. If she had once thought too much of herself, and too littleof her husband, a great change succeeded; for she clung to him in allthe cruel and disgusting forms his abandonment assumed, and, with aself-sacrificing devotion, struggled with the fearful odds against herto retain for her husband and children some little warmth in the humblehome where they were hidden from the world in which they once moved. 

From the drunkard, angels withdraw themselves, and evil spirits comeinto nearer companionship; hence, the bestiality and cruelty ofdrunkenness. The man, changing his internal associates, receives byinflex a new order of influence, and passively acts therefrom. Hebecomes, for the time, the human agent by which evil spirits effecttheir wicked purposes; and it usually happens that those who arenearest allied to him, and who have the first claims on him forsupport, protection, and love, are they who feel the heaviest weight ofinfernal malice. The husband and father too often becomes, in the handsof his evil associates, the cruel persecutor of those he should loveand guard with the tenderest solicitude. So it was in the case of HenryEllis. His manly nature underwent a gradually progressing change, untilthe image of God was wellnigh obliterated from his soul. After thelapse of five miserable years, let us introduce him and his family oncemore to the reader. 

Five years! What a work has been done in that time! Not in a pleasanthome, surrounded with every comfort, as we last saw them, will they befound. Alas, no!

It was late in the year. Frost had already done its work upon theembrowned forests, and leaf by leaf the withered foliage had droppedaway or been swept in clouds before the autumnal winds. Feebler andfeebler grew, daily, the sun's planting rays, colder the air, and morecheerless the aspect of nature. 

One evening, --it was late in November, and the day had been damp andcold, --a woman, whose thin care-worn face and slender form marked heras an invalid, or one whose spirits had been broken by trouble, wasbusying herself in the preparation of supper. A girl, between twelveand thirteen years of age, was trying to amuse a child two years old, who, from some cause, was in a fretful humour; and a little girl in herseventh year was occupied with a book, in which she was spelling out alesson that had been given by her mother. This was the family, or, rather, a part of the family of Henry Ellis. Two members were absent, the father and the oldest boy. The room was small, and meagerlyfurnished, though every thing was clean and in order. In the centre ofthe floor, extending, perhaps, over half thereof, was a piece of fadedcarpet. On this a square, unpainted pine table stood, covered with aclean cloth and a few dishes. Six common wooden chairs, one or two lowstools or benches, a stained work-stand without drawers, and a fewother necessary articles, including a bed in one corner, completed thefurniture of this apartment, which was used as kitchen and sitting-roomby the family, and, with a small room adjoining, constituted the entirehousehold facilities of the family. 

"Henry is late this evening, " remarked Mrs. Ellis, as she laid the lastpiece of toast she had been making on the dish standing near the fire. "He ought to have been here half an hour ago. "

"And father is late too, " said Kate, the oldest daughter, who wasengaged with the fretful child. 

"Yes--he is late, " returned Mrs. Ellis, as if speaking to herself. Andshe sighed heavily. 

Just then the sound of feet was heard in the passage without. 

"There's Henry now, " said Kate. 

And in a moment after the boy entered. His face did not wear thecheerful expression with which he usually met the waiting ones at home. His mother noticed the change; but asked no question then as to thecause. 

"I wish father was home, " said Mrs. Ellis. "Supper is all ready. "

"I don't think it's any use to wait for him, " returned Henry. 

"Why not?" asked the mother, looking with some surprise at her son, inwhose voice was a covert meaning. 

"Because he won't be home to supper. "

"Have you seen him, Henry?"

Mrs. Ellis fixed her eyes earnestly upon her son. 

"Yes, mother. I saw him go into a tavern as I was coming along. I wentin and tried to persuade him to come home with me. But he was angryabout something, and told me to go about my business. I then said--'Do, father, come home with me, ' and took hold of his arm, when he turnedquickly around, and slapped me in the face with the back of his hand. "

The boy, on saying this, burst into tears, and sobbed for some timeviolently. 

"Oh, Henry! did he do that?"

Such was the mother's exclamation. She tried to control her feelings, but could not. In a moment or two, tears gushed over her face. 

The only one who appeared calm was Kate, Henry's oldest sister. Sheuttered no expression of pain or surprise, but, after hearing what herbrother said, looked down upon the floor, and seemed lost in meditation. 

"My poor children!" such were the thoughts that passed through the mindof Mrs. Ellis. "If I could only screen you from these dreadfulconsequences! If I only were the sufferer, I could bear the burdenuncomplainingly. Ah! will this cup never be full? Is there no hope? Howearnestly I have sought to win him back again, Heaven only knows. "

From these reflections Mrs. Ellis was aroused by the voice of Kate, whohad arisen up and was taking from a nail in the wall her bonnet and anold merino coat. 

"Where is the tavern, Henry?" said she. 

"What tavern?" answered the boy. 

"The tavern where you saw father. "

"In Second street. "

"Why do you wish to know?" inquired Mrs. Ellis. 

"I will go for him. He'll come home for me. "

"No--no, Kate. Don't think of such a thing!" said Mrs. Ellis, speakingfrom the impulse of the moment. 

"It won't be of any use, " remarked Henry. "Besides, it's very dark out, sister, and the tavern where I saw him is a long distance from here. Indeed I wouldn't go, Kate. He isn't at all himself. "

The young girl was not in the least influenced by this opposition, but, rather, strengthened in her purpose. She knew that the air was damp andchilly, from an approaching easterly storm; and the thought of hisbeing exposed to cold and rain at night, in the streets, touched herheart with a painful interest in her erring, debased, and fallen parent. 

"It will rain to-night, " said she, looking at her brother. 

"I felt a fine mist in the driving wind just as I came near the door, "replied Henry. 

"If father is not himself, he may fall in the street, and perish in thecold. "

"I don't think there is any danger of that, sister. He will be homeafter awhile. At any rate, there is little chance of your finding him, for he won't be likely to remain long at the tavern where I left him. "

"If I can't find him, so much the worse, " replied the girl, firmly. "But, unless mother forbids my going, I must seek him and bring himhome. "

Kate turned her eyes full upon her mother's face, as she said this, and, in an attitude of submission, awaited her reply. 

"I think, " said Mrs. Ellis, after a long silence, "that little goodwill come of this; yet, I cannot say no. "

"Then I will find him and bring him home, " was the animated response ofKate. 

"You must not go alone, " remarked Henry, taking up the cap he had a fewminutes before laid off. 

"Wait for supper. It is all ready, " said Mrs. Ellis. "Don't go outuntil you have eaten something. "

"No time is to be lost, mother, " replied Kate. "And, then, I haven'tthe least appetite. "

"But your brother has been working hard all day, and is, of course, tired and hungry. "

"Oh, I forgot, " said Kate. "But Henry needn't go with me. If he willonly tell me exactly where I can find father, that will be enough. Ithink I'd better see him alone. "

"Food would choke me now. " Henry's voice was husky and tremulous. "Come, sister, " he added, after a pause, "if this work is done at all, it must be done quickly. "

Without a word more on either part, the brother and sister left theroom, and started on their errand. 

CHAPTER XXI. 

LATE in the afternoon of the day on which occurred the incidentsmentioned in the preceding chapter, Mr. Wilkinson, who had entirelyrecovered from his embarrassed condition, and who was now a sober manin every sense of the word, as well as a thrifty merchant, was standingat one of the counters in his large, well filled store, when amiserable looking creature entered and came back to where he stood. 

"Good-day, Mr. Wilkinson, " said the new-comer. 

Surprise kept the merchant silent for some moments, when the othersaid--

"You don't know me, I presume. "

"Henry Ellis!" exclaimed Wilkinson. "Is it possible you have fallen solow?"

"Just as you see me, " was replied. 

"You ought to be more of a man than this. You ought to have morestrength of character, " said Wilkinson, giving utterance to the firstthought that came into his mind. 

"Oh, yes; it is easy to talk, " replied Ellis, with a slight impatienceof manner. "But you know my history as well almost as I know it myself. I was driven to ruin. "

"How so?"

"Why do you ask the question?"

"You refer to your wife?"

"Of course I do. She drove me to destruction. "

"That is a hard saying, Mr. Ellis. "

"Yet true as that the sun shines. And she has had her reward!"

This last sentence was uttered in a tone of self-satisfaction thatdeeply pained Mr. Wilkinson. 

"I saw your wife this morning, " he remarked, after a moment's silence. 

"You did! Where?"

"I passed her in the street; and the sight of her made my heart ache. Ah, my friend! if you have been wronged, deeply is the wrong repaid!Such a wreck! I could scarcely believe my eyes. Ellis! I read at asingle glance her countenance, marred by long suffering, and found init only the sad evidences of patient endurance. She is changed. I ambold to say that. If she erred, she has repented. "

"But not atoned for a wrong that is irreparable, " said Ellis in adogged tone, while his heavy brows contracted. 

"Ah! how changed you are, Ellis: once so kind-hearted, so forgiving andforbearing!"

"And what changed me? Answer me that, John Wilkinson! Yes, I amchanged--changed from a man into--into--yes, let me say the word--intoa devil! And who held the enchanter's wand? Who? The wife of my bosom!"

Wilkinson felt a shudder creeping along his nerves as he looked at theexcited man, and heard his words. 

"Cara never acts toward you, now, other than with kindness, " said he. 

But Ellis made no answer to this. 

"Let the past suffice, my friend, " added Wilkinson. "Both have sufferedenough. Resolve, in the strength of God and your own manhood, to riseout of the horrible pit and miry clay into which you have fallen. "

"That is impossible. So we won't talk about it, " said Ellis, impatiently. "Lend me half a dollar, won't you?"

The hand of Wilkinson went instinctively to his pocket. But he withdrewit, without the coin he had designed, from the moment's impulse, togive. Shaking his head, he replied to the application, "I can't give you money, Ellis. "

"You can't?"

"No; for that would be no real kindness. But, if you will reform yourlife; if you will abandon drink, and become a sober, industrious man, Iwill pledge myself to procure you a good situation as clerk. In a fewyears you may regain all that has been lost. "

"Bah!" muttered Ellis, grinding his teeth as he spoke. "All good talk!"and, turning away, he passed from the store of his old friend. Withouta cent in his pocket, and burning with a desire for drink, he hadconquered all reluctance and shame, and applied, as we have seen, to anold friend, for money. Two or three other ineffectual attempts weremade to get small sums, but they proved fruitless. For some time hewandered about the streets; then he entered one of the lower class oftaverns, and boldly called for a glass of liquor. But the keeper ofthis den, grown suspicious by experience, saw in the face or manner ofEllis that he had no money, and coolly demanded pay before settingforth his bottle. It was just at this untimely crisis that Henry camein, and, taking hold of his father's arm, urged him to come home. Thecruel rebuff he received is known. 

The blow was no sooner given by Ellis than repented of; and this motionof regret prompted him to express his sorrow for the hasty act, butwhen he turned to speak to the lad, he was gone. Almost maddened bythirst and excitement, the poor wretch caught up from the counter apitcher of ice water, and, placing it to his lips, took therefrom along deep draught. Then slowly turning away, he sought a chair in a farcorner of the room; where he seated himself, crossed his arms on atable, and buried his face therein. 

The pure cold water allayed the fever that burned along the drunkard'sveins. Gradually a deep calm pervaded his mind, and then thought becameactive amid thronging memories of the past. He had once loved his homeand his children; and the image of Henry, when a bright-eyed, curly-headed, happy child, came up so vividly before him, that it wasonly by an effort that he kept the tears from gushing over his face. For years he had cherished, in mere self-justification, the bitterestfeeling towards his wife; and hundreds of times had he given expressionto these feelings in words that smote the heart of Cara with crushingforce. Only a little while before he had spoken of her, in the presenceof Wilkinson, in a hard and unforgiving spirit; but now he thought ofher more kindly. He remembered how patiently she had borne with him;how uncomplainingly she had met and struggled with her hard lot; howmany times she had tried to smile upon him, even through tears thatcould not be restrained. Never was he met, on his return home, withcoldness or neglect. Wife and children all sought his comfort; yet hecared nothing for them, and even filled their paths through life withthorns. And his boy, Henry, whom he had just repulsed in so cruel amanner, to his labour was he indebted, mainly, for the food that wasdaily set before him. How this thought smote him! How it filled hisheart with shame and repentance!

Musing thus, the unhappy man remained, until, gradually, his thoughtsbecame confused. The temporary excitement of feeling died away, andsleep overcame him. In his sleep he dreamed, and his dream was vivid asreality. Not as of old did he find himself; but, in the vision thatcame to him, he was still in bondage and degradation, with a horriblydistinct realization of his condition. His vile companions were aroundhim, but greatly changed; for they appeared more like monsters of evilthan men, and were malignant in their efforts to do harm. Against himthey seemed to feel an especial hatred. Some glared and gleamed uponhim with the fire of murder in their eyes; some pointed to a cheerlessapartment, in which he saw his wife and children cowering and shiveringover a few dying embers, and they said--"It is your work! It is yourwork!" They were devils in distorted human shapes, and he was terriblyafraid. Suddenly he was set upon by one, who caught him by the throatand dragged him into what seemed the cell of a prison, where he wascast upon a heap of straw, and left shuddering with cold and fear. Alone, for days and weeks he remained in this prison, until despairseemed to dry up the very blood in his veins, and, after a desperatestruggle to break through the bars of his narrow house, he sank downexhausted and ready to die. Then came a new horror. He had died, to alloutward appearance, and was in his coffin. He felt his body compressed, and gasped and panted for air in his narrow house of boards. It was anawful moment. Suddenly a voice came to his ear: "Father! father!" Itwas the voice of his child--of Kate. How its tones thrilled throughhim! How his heart leaped with the hope of deliverance! "Father! dearfather!"--The call was renewed, but he could make no answer, for histongue was powerless. Again and again the call was repeated, yet hecould utter no sound--could make no sign. Farther off, then, he heardhis name called. Horror! she had failed to discover him, and was aboutdeparting. In the agony of the moment he awoke. There was a hand laidgently upon him, and a voice said--"Father! dear father! come!"

It was the voice of his child; the same voice that had penetrated hisdreaming ear. 

"Oh, Kate!" he exclaimed, eagerly; "is it indeed you?"

"Yes, father, " she answered; "and won't you come home with me?"

The wretched man did not answer in words but arose immediately and wentout with his daughter. 

"Oh, what a dream I had, Kate!" said Mr. Ellis, as he left the door ofthe tavern; "and you came to me in my dream. "

His feelings were much excited, and he spoke with emotion. 

"Did I, father?" replied the girl. "And how did I come? As a good angelto save you?"

"Waking, you have come to me as such, " answered the father after abrief silence, speaking more calmly, and as if to himself. 

How wild a thrill shot through the frame of Kate at these words, sofull of meaning to her; but she dared not trust herself to make ananswer, lest she should do harm rather than good. And so they walked, in silence, all the way home; Henry, who had accompanied his sister, keeping a short distance behind them, so that his father had noindication of his presence. 

CHAPTER XXII. 

How the hearts of the mother and her two oldest children trembled withhope and fear! A marked change was apparent in Mr. Ellis when he camehome with Kate. He was sober, and very serious, but said nothing; andMrs. Ellis deemed it prudent to say nothing to him. 

On the next morning, he did not rise early. Henry had eaten hisbreakfast and was away to his work, and Kate had gone to market to getsomething for dinner, when he got up and dressed himself. Mrs. Elliswas ready for him with a good cup of coffee, a piece of hot toast, somebroiled steak, and a couple of eggs. She said little, but her toneswere subdued and very kind. Noticing that his hand trembled so that hespilled his coffee in raising his cup to his lips, (his custom was toget a glass of liquor before breakfast to steady his nerves, ) she cameand stood beside him, saying, as she did so--"Let me hold your cup foryou. "

Ellis acquiesced; and so his wife held the cup to his lips while hedrank. 

"Oh, dear! This is a dreadful state to be in Cara!"

The exclamation was spontaneous. Had Ellis thought a moment, his pridewould have caused him to repress it. 

Mrs. Ellis did not reply, for she was afraid to trust herself to speak, lest her words or voice should express something that would check thebetter feelings that were in the heart of her husband. But, ere shecould repress it, a tear fell upon his hand. Almost with a start, Ellisturned and looked up into her face. It was calm, yet sorrowful. Thepale and wasted condition of that face had never so struck him before. 

"Ah, Cara, " said he, dropping his knife and fork, "it is dreadful tolive in this way. Dreadful! dreadful!"

The poor, almost heart-broken wife could command herself no longer; andshe laid her face down upon her husband and sobbed--the moreconvulsively from her efforts to regain self-possession. 

"Oh, Henry!" she at length murmured, "if the past were only ours! If wecould but live over our lives, with some of the experience that livinggives, how differently should we act! But, surely, hope is not cleangone for ever! Is there not yet a better and a brighter day for evenus?"

"There is, Cara! There is!" replied Ellis, in tones of confidence. "Ithas been a long, long night, Cara; a cold and cheerless night. But themorning breaks. There is not much strength left in this poor arm, " andhe extended his right hand, that trembled like an aspen leaf--"but itcan yet do something. It shall not be with us as it has been anylonger. In the sight of Heaven, and in the hope of strength from above, I promise that, Cara. Will you help me to keep my promise?"

"Yes--yes--yes, " was the emphatic response. "If there is in me aparticle of strength, it is yours, and you may lean on it confidently. Oh, Henry! trust in me. The lessons of the past have not been learnedin vain. "

"I am very weak, Cara; the pressure of a child's hand might throw meover. Do not forget this. Never forget it! If you will keep close to myside, if you will help me, and love me, "--his voice quivered, and hepaused, but regained himself in a few moments--"I think all will bewell with us again. God helping me, I will try. "

"Oh, my husband!" sobbed Mrs. Ellis, drawing her arms lovingly abouthim--"it will be well with us, for God will help you, I will help you, all will help you. Forget? Oh, no! I can never forget. Have we not allbeen thoughtful of you, and kind to you in the night that is passingaway?"

"Yes, Cara, yes. "

"And will we not be kinder and more loving in the brighter future? Wewill! we will, Henry! Oh! how my glad heart runs over!"

"I saw Mr. Wilkinson yesterday, " said Ellis, after both had growncalmer; "and he said that he could and would get me a situation asclerk. I am now going to see him, and, if he be as good as his word, this desert place"--and he glanced about the room--"will soon brightenas the rose. "

The entrance of Kate closed the interview. In a little while, Ellis, after shaving himself, and in every possible way improving hisappearance, left the house and went direct to the store of Wilkinson. 

"Henry! Is it possible!" exclaimed the latter, in surprise, when Ellisstood before him. 

"In my right mind again, " was the calm, but firmly spoken answer. 

"How glad I am to hear you say so!" And Wilkinson grasped the hand ofhis old friend, and shook it warmly. 

"You remember your promise of yesterday?" said Ellis. He spokeseriously. 

"To get you a good situation?"

"Yes. "

"I have not forgotten my word, Henry; and will keep it. You are a goodaccountant?"

"I am. "

"This morning my book-keeper notified me of his intention to leave assoon as I could supply his place. If you will take the situation atseven hundred and fifty dollars a year, it is open for you. "

"John Wilkinson!" exclaimed Ellis, seizing the hand of his friend, andexhibiting much agitation. "Are you indeed in earnest?"

"I never was more so in my life, " was replied. 

"Then, indeed the day has broken!" said Ellis, with emotion. "When willyou want me to begin?" he asked after a short period of silence. 

"Now, " replied Wilkinson. 

"Now, did you say?"

"Yes. I have work that needs attention at once. When will you come?"

"A good beginning never can be made too early. Now. "

Wilkinson turned, and the two men walked back to a vacant desk. Anumber of accounts and letters lay thereon, and, as Wilkinson began toenter into some explanation in regard to them, Ellis took up a pen andlaid the point of it on a sheet of paper. The nervous tremor of hishand showed him to be in no condition for the task upon which he wasabout entering. Wilkinson comprehended this in a moment, and a fearlest the drunkard's delirium should follow so sudden a withdrawal ofstimulant from the system of Ellis, sent a chill through his feelings. Instead of putting him to the desk at once, he determined, on theinstant, to employ him at more active work about the store for a fewweeks, until, if he kept to his good resolution, some degree offirmness was restored to his shattered nerves. In agreement with thishumane purpose he acted. 

With what trembling anxiety did Mrs. Ellis await the return of herhusband at dinner-time! The hours wore slowly away, and, at last, herwatchful ear caught the sound of his footsteps. She scarcely breatheduntil the door opened. One glance sufficed. All was well. How glad wasthe impulse with which her stilled heart went on again! Tears of joybedewed her face, when he related the good fortune that had attendedhis call on Wilkinson. 

"Yes, yes, " said he, when he had told her all, and glancing around theroom as he spoke. "This desert place shall blossom as the rose. I havesaid it, and I will keep my word. "

In the evening, Henry and his father met, for the first time, face toface, since they parted in anger on one side and grief on the other. When Kate came home with the latter on the night previous, Henry hadmanaged to enter the house before them, and so kept out of his father'sway. Now, on coming in from his work, he found him already at home, andso changed in appearance, that he gazed upon him with a surprise whichhe could not at first conceal. 

"Henry, my son, " said Mr. Ellis, in a kind, self-possessed tone ofvoice, and he reached out his hand as he spoke. 

The boy took his father's hand, and looked earnestly into his face. 

"Henry, how long have you been with Mr. Wilson?" inquired Mr. Ellis. 

"Two years, sir, " was answered. 

The father looked at the boy's hands, and sighed. They were hard anddiscolored from labour. 

"Tell Mr. Wilson, in the morning, " said he, "that I wish you to leavehim after this week. "

"Sir!" Henry looked surprised. 

"Tell him that I wish you to go to school for a year or two. "

"Father!" The blood flew suddenly to the lad's face. For a few momentshe looked at his father; then turning, he passed quickly into theadjoining room. In the stillness that followed, were audible the sobsthat came from his overflowing heart. 

A week, a month, a year have passed, yet the promise of that happy timeis dimmed not by a single cloud. Firm in his better purpose and fullysustained at home, Henry Ellis is walking steadily the path of safety. Home is what it ever should have been, the pleasantest place in all theworld; for she who is its sunlight never meets him with a clouded face. His desert has, indeed, blossomed as the rose. May the bloom andfragrance thereof never fade nor lose its sweetness!

THE END.