“Lizzy,” said Thomas Ward, suddenly growing calm, and speaking slowly and with marked emphasis—­“I’ve decided upon going to America.  If you will go with me, as a loving and obedient wife should, I shall be glad of your company; but if you prefer to remain here, I shall lay no commands upon you.  Will you or will you not go?  Say at a word.”

Lizzy had a spice of independence about her, as well as a good share of pride.  The word “obedience,” as applied to a wife, had never accorded much with her taste, and the use of it made on the present occasion by her husband was particularly offensive to her.  So she replied, without pausing to reflect—­“I have already told you that I am not going to America.”

“Very well, Lizzy,” replied Thomas, in a voice that was considerably softened, “I leave you to your own choice, notwithstanding the vow you made on that happy morning.  My promise was to love you and to keep you in sickness and in health, but though I may love you as well in old England as in a far-off country, I cannot perform that other promise so well.  So I must e’en leave you with my heart’s best blessing, and a pledge that you shall want for no earthly comfort while I have a hand to work.”

And saying this, Thomas Ward left the presence of his wife, and started forth to walk and to think.  On his return, he found Lizzy sitting by the window with her hands covering her face, and the tears making their way through her fingers.  He said nothing, but he had a hope that she would change her mind and go with him when the time came.  In a little while Lizzy was able to control herself, and move silently about her domestic duties; but her husband looked into her face for some sign of a relenting purpose, and looked in vain.

On the next day, Ward said to his wife—­“I’ve engaged my passage in the Shamrock, that sails from Liverpool for New York in a week.”

Lizzy started, and a slight shiver ran through; her body; but a cold “Very well” was the only reply she made.

“I will leave twenty pounds in the Savings’ Bank for you to draw out as you need.  Before that is gone, I hope to be able to send you more money.”

Lizzy made no answer to this, nor did she display any feeling, although, as she afterwards owned, she felt as if she would have sunk through the floor, and sorely repented having said that she would not go with her husband to America.

The week that intervened between that time and the sailing of the Shamrock passed swiftly away.  Lizzy wished a hundred times that her husband would refer to his intended voyage across the sea, and ask her again if she would not go with him.  But Thomas Ward had no more to say upon the subject.  At least as often as three times had his wife refused to accompany him to a land where there was plenty of work and good wages, and he was firm in his resolution not to ask her again.