“It is yours, Mary,” was replied with much tenderness of manner.  “You have saved it for some particular purpose, and I shall not feel happy to let it go back again and become absorbed in my business.”

“Have we divided interests, John?” said Mrs. Wilkinson, in a low, serious voice, as she clung to her husband’s arm, and looked steadily into his face.

“I hope not, Mary.”

“Am I not your wife?”

“Yes, yes; and one of the best of wives.”

“And do I not love you?”

“Never for a single moment has a doubt of your love been whispered in my heart.”

“Such a whisper would have wronged me.  Yes, my husband, I do love you, and as my very life.”

Wilkinson bent down and pressed his lips to hers.

“Love ever seeks to bless its object,” continued Mary, “and finds, in doing so, its purest delight.  Do you think I could use the money I have, in any way that would bring me so much pleasure as by placing it in your hands?  Surely your heart says no.”

“I will take it, dear,” said Wilkinson, after a slight pause.  His voice was unsteady as he spoke; “and you will have your reward,” he added, in tones filled with a prophecy for the future.

“Never—­never—­never shall act of mine bring a shadow to that dear face!” was the mental ejaculation of Wilkinson, as, with an impulse of affection he could not restrain, he threw his arms around his wife and hugged her to his bosom.

“Bless you!  Bless you, Mary!” came, almost sobbing, from his overflowing heart.

On his way to his store, that afternoon, Wilkinson felt the old desire to stop and get his usual glass of brandy, and he was actually about to enter a drinking-house, when the image of his wife came so distinctly before his mind, that it seemed almost like a personal presence.  He saw a shadow upon her face, and the dimness of tears was in her tender blue eyes.

“No!” said he resolutely, and with an audible expression, and quickly passed on.

How his bosom rose and fell, with a panting motion, as if from some strong physical effort.

“What an escape!  It was the very path of danger!” such were his thoughts.  “To venture into that path again were the folly of a madman.  No, Mary, no!  Your love shall draw me back with its strong attraction.  A new light seems breaking all around me.  I see as I never saw before.  There is the broad way to destruction, and here winds the narrow but pleasant path of safety.  Ruined hopes, broken hearts, and sad wrecks of humanity are scattered thickly along the first, but heavenly confidence, joyful hearts, and man, with the light of celestial truth upon his upturned face, is to be found in the other.  Shall I hesitate in which to walk?  No!”

With a quicker and more elastic step Wilkinson pursued his way, and reached his store just as a customer from the country, who had been waiting for him, was leaving.