One day, on coming home to dinner, Mr. Uhler was told by a servant, that his wife had gone to an anti-slavery meeting, and would not get back till evening, as she intended dining with a friend.  Mr. Uhler made no remark on receiving this information.  A meagre, badly-cooked dinner was served, to which he seated himself, alone, not to eat, but to chew the cud of bitter fancies.  Business, with Mr. Uhler, had not been very prosperous of late; and he had suffered much from a feeling of discouragement.  Yet, for all this, his wife’s demands for money, were promptly met—­and she was not inclined to be over careful as to the range of her expenditures.

There was a singular expression on the face of Mr. Uhler, as he left his home on that day.  Some new purpose had been formed in his mind, or some good principle abandoned.  He was a changed man—­changed for the worse, it may well be feared.

It was late in the afternoon when Mrs. Uhler returned.  To have inquired of the servant whether Mr. Uhler had made any remark, when he found that she was absent at dinner time, she would have regarded as a betrayal to that personage of a sense of accountability on her part.  No; she stooped not to any inquiry of this kind—­compromised not the independence of the individual.

The usual tea hour was at hand—­but, strange to say, the punctual Mr. Uhler did not make his appearance.  For an hour the table stood on the floor, awaiting his return, but he came not.  Then Mrs. Uhler gave her hungry, impatient little ones their suppers—­singularly enough, she had no appetite for food herself—­and sent them to bed.

Never since her marriage had Mrs. Uhler spent so troubled an evening as that one proved to be.  A dozen times she rallied herself—­a dozen times she appealed to her independence and individuality as a woman, against the o’er-shadowing concern about her husband, which came gradually stealing upon her mind.  And with this uncomfortable feeling were some intruding and unwelcome thoughts, that in no way stimulated her self-approval.

It was nearly eleven o’clock when Mr. Uhler came home; and then he brought in his clothes such rank fumes of tobacco, and his breath was so tainted with brandy, that his wife had no need of inquiry as to where he had spent his evening.  His countenance wore a look of vacant unconcern.

“Ah!  At home, are you?” said he, lightly, as he met his wife.  “Did you have a pleasant day of it?”

Mrs. Uhler was—­frightened—­shall we say?  We must utter the word, even though it meet the eyes of her “strong minded” friends, who will be shocked to hear that one from whom they had hoped so much, should be frightened by so insignificant a creature as a husband.  Yes, Mrs. Uhler was really frightened by this new aspect in which her husband presented himself.  She felt that she was in a dilemma, to which, unhappily, there was not a single horn, much less choice between two.