It has been seen in what state of feeling the husband returned home.  Remembrances of the past brought some natural misgivings to his mind.  His face, therefore, wore rather a more subdued expression than usual.  Still, he was in a tolerably cheerful frame of mind—­in fact, he was never moody.  To his great relief, Cara met him with a smile, and seemed to be in an unusually good humour.  Their sweet babe was lying asleep on her lap; and his other two children were playing about the room.  Instantly the sunshine fell warmly again on the heart of Ellis.  He kissed mother and children fervently, and with a deep sense of love.

“I called to see the bride this afternoon,” said Mrs. Ellis, soon after her husband came in.

“Ah, did you?” he answered.  “At her new home?”

“Yes.”

“She is well and happy, of course?”

“Oh, yes; happy as the day is long.  How could she help being so in such a little paradise?”

“Love makes every spot a paradise,” said Ellis.

“Beg your pardon,” replied the wife, with some change in her tone of voice.  “I’m no believer in that doctrine.  I want something more than love.  External things are of account in the matter; and of very considerable account.”

“They have every thing very handsome, of course,” said Ellis; who was generally wise enough not to enter into a discussion with his wife on subjects of this kind.

“Oh, perfect!” replied his wife, “perfect!  I never saw a house furnished with so much taste.  I declare it has put me half out of conceit with things at home.  Oh, dear! how common every thing did look when I returned.”

“You must remember that our furniture has been in use for about six years,” said Ellis; “and, moreover, that it was less costly than your friend’s, in the beginning.  Her husband and your’s are in different circumstances.”

“I know all about that,” was returned, with a toss of the head.  “I know that we are dreadfully poor, and can hardly get bread for our children.”

“We are certainly not able to furnish as handsomely as Mr. and Mrs. Beaumont.  There is no denying that, Cara.  Still, we are able to have every real comfort of life; and therewith let us try to be content.  To desire what we cannot possess, will only make us unhappy.”

“You needn’t preach to me,” retorted Mrs. Ellis, her face slightly flushing.  “When I want to hear a sermon, I’ll go to church.”

Mr. Ellis made no answer, but, lifting his babe from its mother’s lap, commenced tossing it in the air and singing a pleasant nursery ditty.  Caroline sat in a moody state of mind for some minutes, and then left the room to give some directions about tea.  On her return, Ellis said, in as cheerful a voice as if no unpleasant incident had transpired,

“Oh!  I had forgotten to say, Cara, that Mr. Hemming and his wife have returned from Boston.  They will be around to see us some evening this week.”