“No one knows that better than myself,” replied the husband, with more feeling than he meant to exhibit.

“And, if the truth were known, are living at an expense beyond what we can afford.  Speak out plainly, dear, and say if this is not the case.”

“I shouldn’t just like to say that,” returned Wilkinson; yet his tone of voice belied his words.

“It is just as I supposed,” said Mrs. Wilkinson, growing more serious.  “Why have you not confided in me?  Why have you not spoken freely to me on this subject, John?  Am I not your wife?  And am I not ready to bear all things and to suffer all things for your sake?”

“You are too serious Mary,—­too serious by far.  I have not said that there was any thing wrong in my circumstances.  I have not said that it was necessary to reduce our expenses.”

“No matter, dear.  We are, by living in our present style, expending several hundred dollars a year more than is necessary.  This is useless.  Do you not say so yourself?”

It is certainly useless to spend more than is necessary to secure comfort.”

“And wrong to spend more than we can afford?”

“Undoubtedly.”

“Then let us take a smaller house, John, by all means.  I shall feel so much better contented.”

It was some time before Wilkinson replied.  When he did so, he spoke with unusual emotion.

“Ah, my dear wife!” said he, leaning towards her and grasping her hand; “you know not how great a load you have taken from my heart.  The change you suggest is necessary; yet I never could have urged it; never could have asked you to give up this for an humbler dwelling.  How much rather would I elevate you to a palace!”

“My husband!  Why, why have you concealed this from me?  It was not true kindness,” said Mrs. Wilkinson, in a slightly chiding voice.  “It is my province to stand, sustainingly, by your side; not to hang upon you, a dead weight.”

But we will not repeat all that was said.  Enough that, ere the evening, spent in earnest conversation, closed, all the preliminaries of an early removal and reduction of expenses were settled, and, when Wilkinson retired for the night, it was in a hopeful spirit.  Light had broken through a rift in the dark cloud which had so suddenly loomed up; and he saw, clearly, the way of escape from the evil that threatened to overwhelm him.

CHAPTER XII.

Twelve o’clock of the day on which Ellis was to return the two hundred dollars borrowed of Wilkinson came, and yet he did not appear at the store of the latter, who had several payments to make, and depended on receiving the amount due from his friend.

“Has Mr. Ellis been here?” asked Wilkinson of his clerk, coming in about noon from a rather fruitless effort to obtain money.

The clerk replied in the negative.

“Nor sent over his check for two hundred dollars?”