Michael pressed his Margaret to his heart, and kissed her fondly.

“Why, oh why, my Margaret, did you link your fate with mine?”

“Why, having done so, Michael, do you not love and trust me?”

“Love?”

“Yes—­love!  Say what you will, you do not love me, if you hide your griefs from me.  We are one.  Let us be truly so.  One in our joys and in our sufferings.”

“Dearest Margaret, why should I distress you?  Why should I call upon you for assistance?  Why drag your substance from you?—­why prey upon you until you have parted with your all?  I have taken too much already.”

“Answer me one simple question, Michael.  Can money buy away this present sorrow?  Can it bring to you contentment and repose?  Can it restore to me the smile which is my own?  Oh, if it can, be merciful and kind; take freely what is needful, and let me purchase back my blessings!”

“Margaret, you deserve a better fate!”

“Name the sum, dear.  Is it my fortune?  Not more?  Then never were peace of mind and woman’s happiness so cheaply bought.  Take it, Michael, and let us thank Heaven that it is enough.  My fortune never gave me so much joy as now.  I do not remember, Michael, that you have ever refused my smallest wish.  It is not in your nature to be unkind.  Come, dearest, smile a little.  We have made the bargain—­be generous, and pay me in advance.”

He smiled and wept in gratitude.

Now Michael retired to rest, determined not to take advantage of the generous impulses of his confiding wife; yet, although he did so, it could not but be very satisfactory to his marital feelings to discover, and to be assured of the existence of, such devotedness and disregard of self and fortune as she displayed.  Indeed, he was very much tranquillized and comforted; so much so, in fact, that he was enabled, towards morning, to wake up in a condition to review his affairs with great serenity of mind, and (notwithstanding his determination) to contrive some mode of turning the virtuous magnanimity of his wife to good account, without inflicting any injury upon herself.  Surely if he could do this, he was bound to act.  To save himself by her help, and, at the same time, without injuring her at all, was a very defensible step, to say the least of it.  Who should say it wasn’t his absolute duty to adopt it?  Whatever repugnance he might have felt in asking a further loan from one who had already helped him beyond his expectations, it was certainly very much diminished since she had offered to yield to him, without reserve, every farthing that she possessed.  Not that he would ever suffer her to do any thing so wild and inexcusable; still, after such an expression of her wishes, he was at liberty to ask her aid, provided always that he could secure her from any loss or risk.  When Michael got thus far in his proposition, it was not very difficult to work it to the end.  Once satisfied that it