Virginia colored.

“Oh, no indeed,” she replied hastily.  “He wouldn’t drink now, I’m sure, if only out of regard for me.”

Hadley was about to say more, when suddenly the library door opened and Stafford entered, hat in hand.  Addressing his friend and without so much as glancing at his wife, he said curtly: 

“Coming over to the club, Hadley?  There’s a poker game on to-night.  I promised to take a hand.”

The two men went away together and that night Virginia sobbed herself to sleep.

Another month went by and imperceptibly, almost unnoticed by themselves, the coolness between husband and wife grew.  There was no open quarrel, not even a cross word; but Stafford stayed out nearly every night and Virginia, left alone in the great library with only books for companions, wondered if this was the happy married life she had prayed for.

One night the servants were awakened by a commotion at the front door.  Their master, returning from the club, had stumbled and fallen down the stoop.  Oku picked him up, and Stafford, luckily unhurt, staggered unaided to his room.  Half an hour later the stillness of the night was again disturbed—­this time by a woman’s shrill scream of fright and a man’s voice raised in tones of angry command.  To the servants it seemed as if the sounds came from their mistress’ room.

Thus the months passed, and to the outside world, which obtained only an occasional glimpse into the Stafford household, the railroad man’s pretty young wife was one of the most-to-be-envied women in New York.  Still, there were some who shook their heads.  They pointed to the young Mrs. Stafford’s pale face and melancholy manner.  In the last few weeks particularly she had lost her good spirits and was only a shadow of the girl who two years before had entered Robert Stafford’s home a bride.

* * * * *

Meantime Virginia’s sister, now Mrs. Gillie, was as happy and contented in her married life as circumstances would permit.  She was not able to live on as grand a scale as her rich sister, but Jimmie’s income, thanks to Mr. Stafford’s generosity, had been increased to an amount quite beyond their most sanguine expectations.  Beginning at a salary of $50 a week, he had been quickly raised to $100, and there was every prospect of even better to come.  This enabled them to live very comfortably and even to save a little money.  They had a pretty flat in One Hundred and Fortieth Street, where a baby girl had come to bless their union.  Jimmie was a considerate enough husband, but indolent, and, still impressed with his own importance, he was always grumbling that his merit was underestimated by the world in general and his present employer in particular.  Fanny considered it most ungrateful, and one morning at breakfast she took him to task: 

“How can you speak in that way of Mr. Stafford?” she protested.  “We owe him everything.”