The earnestness with which Ellis pondered these things lifted his thoughts so much above the sensual plane where they too often rested, that he felt not the desire for stimulating drink returning at certain hours, but passed through the whole of the afternoon without either thinking of or tasting his usual glass of brandy and water.  On coming home to his family in the evening, his mind was as clear as a bell.  This, unhappily, was not always the case.

And now for the task of making Cara comprehend the real state of his affairs; and to produce in her a cheerful, loving, earnest co-operation in the work of salutary reform.  But how to begin?  What first to say?  How to disarm her opposition in the outset?  These were the questions over which Ellis pondered.  And the difficulty loomed up larger and larger the nearer he approached it.  He felt too serious; and was conscious of this.

Unhappily, Cara’s brow was somewhat clouded.  Ellis approached her with attempts at cheerful conversation; but she was not in the mood to feel interested in any of the topics he introduced.  The tea hour passed with little of favourable promise.  The toast was badly made, and the chocolate not half boiled.  Mrs. Ellis was annoyed, and scolded the cook, in the presence of her husband, soundly; thus depriving him of the little appetite with which he had come to the table.  Gradually the unhappy man felt his patience and forbearance leaving him; and more than once he said to himself—­

“It will be worse than useless to talk to her.  She will throw back my words upon me, in the beginning, as she has so often done before.”

Tea over, Mr. and Mrs. Ellis returned with their children to the sitting-room.  The former felt an almost irrepressible desire for the cigar, which habit had rendered so nearly indispensable; but he denied himself the indulgence, lest Cara should make it the occasion of some annoying remark.  So he took up a newspaper, and occupied himself therewith, until his wife had undressed and put their two oldest children to bed.  As she returned from the adjoining room, where they slept, Ellis looked earnestly into her face, to see what hope there was for him in its expression.  Her lips were drawn closely together, her brows slightly contracted, and her countenance had a fretful, discontented expression.  He sighed inwardly, and resumed the perusal of his newspaper; or, rather, affected to resume it, for the words that met his eyes conveyed to his mind no intelligible ideas.

Mrs. Ellis took her work-basket, and commenced sewing, while her husband continued to hold the newspaper before his face.  After some ten minutes of silence, the latter made a remark, as a kind of feeler.  This was replied to with what sounded more like a grunt than a vocal expression.

“Cara,” at length said Ellis, forcing himself to the unpleasant work on hand, “I would like to have a little plain talk with you about my affairs.”  He tried, in saying this, to seem not to be very serious; but his feelings, which had for some time been on the rack, were too painfully excited to admit of this.  He both looked and expressed, in the tones of his voice, the trouble he felt.