“Enough, dear!” replied Edward Claire, smiling.  “O no, not enough, by any means.  Five hundred dollars a year is but a meagre sum.  What does it procure for us?  Only these two rooms and the commonest necessaries of life.  We cannot even afford the constant service of a domestic.”

“Why, Edward! what has come over you?  Have I complained?”

“No, dear, no.  But think you I have no ambition to see my wife take a higher place than this?”

“Ambition!  Do not again use that word,” said Edith, very earnestly.  “What has love to do with ambition?  What have we to do with the world and its higher places?  Will a more elegant home secure for us a purer joy than we have known and still know in this our Eden?  Oh, my husband! do not let such thoughts come into your mind.  Let us be content with what God in his wisdom provides, assured that it is best for us.  In envying the good of another, we destroy our own good.  There is a higher wealth than gold, Edward; and it supplies higher wants.  There are riches without wings; they lie scattered about our feet; we may fill our coffers, if we will.  Treasures of good affections and true thoughts are worth more than all earthly riches, and will bear us far more safely and happily through the world; such treasures are given to all who will receive them, and given in lavish abundance.  Let us secure of this wealth, Edward, a liberal share.”

“Mere treasures of the mind, Edith, do not sustain natural life, do not supply natural demands.  They build no houses; they provide not for increasing wants.  We cannot always remain in the ideal world; the sober realities of life will drag us down.”

The simple-hearted, true-minded young wife was not understood by her husband.  She felt this, and felt it oppressively.

“Have we not enough, Edward, to meet every real want?” she urged.  “Do we desire better food or better clothing?  Would our bodies be more comfortable because our carpets were of richer material, and our rooms filled with costlier furniture?  O no!  If not contented with such things as Providence gives us to-day, we shall not find contentment in what he gives us to-morrow; for the same dissatisfied heart will beat in our bosoms.  Let Mr. Jasper get rich, if he can; we will not envy his possessions.”

“I do not envy him, Edith,” replied Claire.  “But I cannot feel satisfied with the small salary he pays me.  My services are, I know, of greater value than he estimates them, and I feel that I am dealt by unjustly.”

Edith made no answer.  The subject was repugnant to her feelings, and she did not wish to prolong it.  Claire already regretted its introduction.  So there was silence for nearly a minute.

When the conversation flowed on again, it embraced a different theme, but had in it no warmth of feeling.  Not since they had joined hands at the altar, nearly two years before, had they passed so embarrassed and really unhappy an evening as this.  A tempting spirit had found its way into their Paradise, burning with a fierce desire to mar its beauty.