“Not so bad as that.  You are only in a gloomy state of mind.”

“I wish it were only nervous despondency, my friend.  But it is not so.  All the while I am conscious of a retrograde instead of an advance movement.”

“There must be a cause for this,” said Wilkinson.

“Of course.  There is no effect without a cause.”

“Do you know what it is?”

“Yes.”

“A knowledge of our disease is said to be half the cure.”

“It has not proved so in my case.”

“What is the difficulty?”

“My expenses are too high.”

“Your store expenses?”

“No, my family expenses.”

“Then you ought to reduce them.”

“That is easily said; but, in my case, not so easily done.  I cannot make my wife comprehend the necessity of retrenchment.”

“If you were to explain the whole matter to her, calmly and clearly, I am certain you would not find her unreasonable.  Her stake in this matter is equal to yours.”

“Oh, dear!  Haven’t I tried, over and over again?”

“If Cara will not hear reason, and join with you in prudent reforms, then it is your duty to make them yourself.  What are your annual expenses?”

“I am ashamed to say.”

“Fifteen hundred dollars?”

“They have never fallen below that since we were married, and, for the last three years, have reached the sum of two thousand dollars.  This year they will even exceed that.”

Wilkinson shook his head.

“Too much! too much!”

“I know it is.  A man in my circumstances has no right to expend even half that sum.  Why, five hundred dollars a year less in our expenses since we were married would have left me a capital of five thousand dollars in my business.”

“And placed you now on the sure road to fortune.”

“Undoubtedly.”

“Take my advice, and give to Cara a full statement of your affairs.  Do it at once—­this very day.  It has been put off too long already.  Let there be no reserve—­no holding back—­no concealment.  Do it calmly, mildly, yet earnestly, and my word for it, she will join you, heart and hand, in any measure of reform and safety that you may propose.  She were less than a woman, a wife, and a mother, not to do so.  You wrong her by doubt.”

“Perhaps I do,” said Ellis in reply.  “Perhaps I have never managed her rightly.  I know that I am quick to get out of patience with her, if she oppose my wishes too strongly.  But I will try and overcome this.  There is too much at stake just now.”

The two men parted.  Henry Ellis pondered all day over the present state of his affairs, and the absolute necessity there was for a reduction of his expenses.  The house in which he lived cost four hundred and fifty dollars a year.  Two hundred dollars could easily be saved, he thought, by taking a smaller house, where, if they were only willing to think so, they might be just as comfortable as they now were.  Beyond this reduction in rent, Ellis did not see clearly how to proceed.  The rest would have mainly to depend upon his wife, who had almost the entire charge of the home department, including the expenditures made on account thereof.