“Why, John!” said she, with a pleasant smile, and a tone so well disguised that it betrayed little of the sea of agitation below—­“what has kept you so late?  I was really afraid something had happened.  Have you been sick; or did business detain you?”

“It was business, dear,” replied Mr. Wilkinson, as he took the hand which Mary placed within his.  The low, nervous tremour of that hand he instantly perceived, and as instantly comprehended its meaning.  She had been deeply anxious, but was now seeking to conceal this from him.  He understood it all, and was touched by the fact.

“I ought to have sent you word,” said he, as he kissed her with more than usual tenderness of manner.  “It was wrong in me.  But I’ve been very hard put to it to take up my notes, and didn’t succeed until near the closing of bank hours.  I loaned Ellis some money, which he was to return to me to-day; but his failing to do so put me to a good deal of inconvenience.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” was the sympathizing response.  “But how came Mr. Ellis to disappoint you?”

“I don’t exactly know.  He hasn’t been at his store to-day.”

“Is he sick?”

“Worse, I’m afraid.”

“How, worse?”

“His habits have not been very good of late.”

“Oh! how sad!  His poor wife!”

This was an almost involuntary utterance on the part of Mrs. Wilkinson.

“Her poor husband, rather say,” was the reply.  “The fact is, if Ellis goes to ruin, it will be his wife’s fault.  She has no sympathy with him, no affectionate consideration for him.  A thoroughly selfish woman, she merely regards the gratification of her own desires, and is ever making home repulsive, instead of attractive.”

“You must be mistaken.”

“No.  Ellis often complains to me of her conduct.”

“Why, John!  I can scarcely credit such a thing.”

“Doubtless it is hard for you to imagine any woman guilty of such unwifelike conduct.  Yet such is the case.  Many a night has Ellis spent at a tavern, which, but for Cara’s unamiable temper, would have been spent at home.”

“Ah! she will have her reward,” sighed Mrs. Wilkinson.

“And you yours,” was the involuntary but silent ejaculation of Wilkinson.

Ere further remark was made, the dinner-bell rang, and Mr. Wilkinson and his wife repaired to the dining-room.

It was not possible for the former to endure the pressure that was on his feelings without letting the fact of its existence betray itself in his countenance; and Mary, whose eyes were scarcely a moment from her husband’s face, soon saw that his mind was ill at ease.

“How much did Mr. Ellis borrow of you?” she asked, soon after they had taken their places at the table.

“Two hundred dollars,” was replied.

“No more?” The mind of Mrs. Wilkinson was evidently relieved, at knowing the smallness of the sum.