With the usual glad smile and heart-warm kiss Wilkinson was greeted on his return home.

“God bless you, Mary!” said he, with much feeling, as he returned his wife’s salutation.

Mrs. Wilkinson saw that her husband was inwardly moved to a degree that was unusual.  She did not remark thereon, but her manner was gentle, and her tones lower and tenderer than usual, when she spoke to him.  But few words passed between them, until the bell rang for tea.  While sitting at the table, the voice of Ella was heard, crying.

“Agnes!” called Mrs. Wilkinson, going to the head of the stairs that led down into the kitchen—­“I wish you would go up to Ella, she is awake.”

The girl answered that she would do as desired, and Mrs. Wilkinson returned to her place at the table.

“Where is Anna?” asked Mr. Wilkinson.

Mrs. Wilkinson smiled cheerfully, as she replied,

“Her month was up to-day, and I concluded to let her go.”

“What!” Wilkinson spoke in a quick surprised voice.

“She was little more than a fifth wheel to our coach,” was replied; “and fifth wheels can easily be dispensed with.”

“But who is to take care of Ella?  Who is to do the chamber work?  Not you!”

“Don’t be troubled about that, my good husband!” was answered with a smile.  “Leave all to me.  I am the housekeeper.”

“You are not strong enough, Mary.  You will injure your health.”

“My health is more likely to suffer from lack, than from excess of effort.  The truth is, I want more exercise than I have been in the habit of taking.”

“But the confinement, Mary.  Don’t you see that the arrangement you propose will tie you down to the house?  Indeed, I can’t think of it.”

“I shall not be confined in-doors any more than I am now.  Agnes will take care of the baby whenever I wish to go out.”

“There is too much work in this house, Mary’” said Mr. Wilkinson, in a decided way.  “You cannot get along with but a single domestic.”

“There are only you, and Ella, and I!” Mrs. Wilkinson leaned towards her husband, and looked earnestly into his face.  There was an expression on her countenance that was full of meaning; yet its import he did not understand.

“Only you, and Ella, and I?” said he.

“Yes; only we three.  Now, I have been wondering all day, John, whether there was any real necessity for just we three having so large a house to live in.  I don’t think there is.  It is an expense for nothing, and makes work for nothing.”

“How you talk, Mary!”

“Don’t I talk like a sensible woman?” said the young wife, smiling.

“We can’t go into a smaller house, dear.”

“And why not, pray?”

“Our position in society”—­

Mr. Wilkinson did not finish the sentence; for he knew that argument would be lost on his wife.

“We are not rich,” said Mrs. Wilkinson.