......FIXED in his resolution to repel every manifestation of
tenderness on the part of his wife, Percy Edwards maintained towards
her the same cold formality, in spite of all her earnest efforts to
break the icy crust of his feelings.  He did not love her, and was
not inclined to affect a passion; nay, she was absolutely repulsive
to him, and the least he could do, under the circumstances, was to
protect himself as he did without overt acts of unkindness.

And thus disjoined, instead of united, Mr. and Mrs. Edwards moved along their way through life, envied by hundreds, who, in exchanging with them, would have left an Eden of happiness for a dreary wilderness.

A few months of such an existence completely broke down the spirits of Kate.  She had no pride to sustain her.  Thousands, as unloved as she, seek refuge in pride, pleasure, and a heartless worship at the gilded shrine of fashion.  They meet coldness with a sharp disdain; and, finding nothing to love at home, turn to what the world has to offer, and become mere bubbles on the surface of society—­prominent, brilliant, and useless.  Nay, worse than useless; for they reflect the light of heaven falsely, and create discontent in those who see only their glittering exterior, and vainly imagine it to be the correspondent of internal delight.

It was not so with Kate; for she was sincere, unselfish, and true-hearted, and could not seek a false pleasure, when the sources of real delight became dry.  A naiad, at a fountain, the waters of which had failed, she turned not to another, but bent weeping over the spot, hoping, yet faint with a long desire to hear the murmur of the coming stream.

There fell, at last, a gleam of light across her path.  In her dark and cloudy sky arched, beautifully, a bow of promise.  Hope, faint, yet sweet to her spirit, revived, and she looked to the future with a trembling heart.  For a long time she locked in her own thoughts the dear secret she had discovered and pondered over it with a daily increasing pleasure.  Then it was whispered, low and with a blushing cheek, to her husband.  She was to become a mother!

From that moment she felt that there was a change.  From that moment her husband’s manner was different.  He was still as polite and formal as, before; but with these was blended a something that her heart interpreted as tenderness for his wife; and from this her fainting spirit drew the aliment that sustained it.  If, suddenly coming upon her now, he surprised her weeping, he did not turn away, silent and cold, as before; but would speak some word of apparent sympathy, which instantly dried up the fountains of grief.  And thus the time passed, until another being saw the light—­until another voice sounded upon the air.  Oh! with what a thrill of delight did the young mother take her new-born babe into her arms, and hail it as the bond that was to bind to hers the heart of her husband.  How eagerly did she read