There was a shadow on the brow of Wilkinson when he met his wife that evening, and she saw it the moment he came in, notwithstanding his effort to seem cheerful.  This shadow fell upon her heart, but she did not permit its reproduction on her countenance.

After tea, Mary was busied for a short time in getting little Ella to sleep.  When she returned, at length, to their sitting-room, she had a small package in her hand, which, with a smiling face, she laid upon the table at which her husband sat reading.

“What is that, dear?” he asked, lifting his eyes to her face.

“We shall soon see,” was answered, and Mrs. Wilkinson commenced opening the package.  In a moment or two, five or six rolls of coin were produced, nicely enveloped in paper.

“This is my sub-treasury,” said she, with a smile.  “I took an account of the deposits to-day, and find just five hundred and fifty dollars.  So, even if Mr. Ellis should fail to return the two hundred dollars he borrowed, you will still be three hundred and fifty dollars better off than you thought you were.  So push every gloomy thought from your heart.  All will come out right in the end.”

Wilkinson looked at the money like one who could scarcely believe the evidence of his senses.

“This for the present,” said Mrs. Wilkinson, leaning towards her husband, and fixing her gentle, yet earnest, loving eyes upon his face.  “This for the present.  And now let me give you my plans for the future.  Your business is to earn money, and mine to expend so much of it as domestic comfort and well-being requires.  Thus far I believe the expenditure has not been in a just ratio to the earnings.  Speak out plainly, dear husband! and say if I am not right.”

Wilkinson sat silent, gradually withdrawing his eyes from those of his wife, and letting them fall to the floor.

“Yes, I am right,” said the latter, after a pause.  “And such being the case, you have become pressed for money to conduct your business.  A change, then, is required.  We must lessen our expenses.  And now listen to what I have to propose.  I went this afternoon to see Mrs. Capron, and she says, that if we will furnish our own room, she will board us and a nurse for ten dollars a week.”

“Board us!”

“Yes, dear.  Won’t it be much better for us to take boarding for two or three years, until we can afford to keep a house?”

“But our furniture, Mary?  What is to be done with that?”

“All provided for,” said Mrs. Wilkinson, with sparkling eyes, and a countenance flushed with the excitement she felt.  “We will have a sale.”

“A sale!”

“Yes, a sale.  And this will give you more money.  We will live at half the present cost, and you will get back into your business at least a thousand dollars that never should have been taken from it.”

“But the sacrifice, Mary!” said Wilkinson, as if seeking an argument against his wife.