“I don’t like to hear you depreciate yourself, papa,” Elsie said.  “Edward may have that disposition without having got it from you.  And I am sure mamma would indignantly repel the insinuation that you were ever a domineering husband.”

“Perhaps so; my daughter was the safety-valve in my case.  Well, daughter, my advice is, wait till to-morrow at all events.  I must say she doesn’t seem to me one of the kind to submit tamely to oppression.  I did not like her behavior last evening, and it may be that she needs the lesson her husband seems to be giving her.  He certainly has been affectionate enough in the past to make it reasonable to suppose he is not abusing her now.”

“Oh, I could never think he would do that!” exclaimed his mother, “and I believe in my heart he would hurry home at once if he knew how she is fretting over his absence.”

It was near the dinner hour when Elsie returned from her drive, and stealing on tiptoe into Zoe’s bedroom she found her fast asleep.  Her eyelashes were still wet, and she looked flushed and feverish.

Elsie gazed at her in tender pity and some little anxiety; the face was so young and child-like, and even in sleep wore a grieved expression that touched the kind mother heart.

“Poor little orphan!” she sighed to herself, “she must feel very lonely and forlorn in her husband’s absence, especially if things have gone wrong between them.  How could I ever have borne a word or look of displeasure from my husband!  I hope she is not going to be ill.”

“Is Zoe not coming down?” Mr. Dinsmore asked as the family gathered about the dinner-table.

“I found her sleeping, papa, and thought it best not to wake her;” Elsie answered.  “I think she does not look quite well, and that sleep will do her more good than anything else.”

Zoe slept most of the afternoon, woke apparently more cheerful, and ate with seeming enjoyment the delicate lunch presently brought her by Elsie’s orders; but she steadily declined to join the family at tea or in the parlor.

She would much rather stay where she was for the rest of the day, she said, as she felt dull and her head still ached a little.

Every one felt concerned about, and disposed to be as kind to her as possible.  Mrs. Dinsmore, Elsie, Violet, and Rosie all came in in the course of the afternoon and evening to ask how she did, and express the hope that she would soon be quite well again, and to try to cheer her up.

They offered her companionship through the night; any one of them would willingly sleep with her; but she said she was not timid and would prefer to remain alone.

“Well, dear, I should feel a trifle easier not to have you alone,” Elsie said, as she bade her good-night, “but we will not force our company upon you.  None of us lock our doors at night, and my rooms are not far away; don’t hesitate to wake me, if you feel uneasy or want anything in the night.”