For an hour she had been seated by the window, listening for the sound of his approaching footsteps.  As the clock struck twelve, she started, listened for a moment still more intently, and then arose with a deep sigh, her manner indicating a state of irresolution.  First she went softly to the bed, and stood looking down for some moments upon the faces of her little ones, sleeping calmly and sweetly, all unconscious of the anguish that swelled their mother’s heart almost to bursting.  Then she raised her head, and again assumed a listening attitude.  An involuntary sigh told that she had listened in vain.  A few moments after she was aroused from a state of deep abstraction of thought, by a strong shudder passing through her frame, occasioned by some fearful picture which her excited imagination had conjured up.  She now went hastily to a wardrobe, and took out her bonnet and shawl.  One more glance at her children, told her that they were sleeping soundly.  In the next minute she was in the street, bending her steps she knew not whither, in search of her husband.

Almost involuntarily, Mrs. Marshall took her way towards that portion of the city where she had, on the night previous, unexpectedly found him.  It was not longer before she paused by the door at the same drinking-house from which her husband had been thrust, when he fell, almost lifeless, at her feet.  Although it was past twelve o’clock, the sound of many voices came from within, mingled with wild excitement, and boisterous mirth.

Now came a severe trial for her shrinking, sensitive feelings.  How could she, a woman, and alone, enter such a place, at such an hour, on such an errand?  The thought caused a sensation of faintness to pass over her, and she leaned for a moment against the side of the door to keep from falling.  But affection and thoughts of duty quickly aroused her, and resolutely keeping down every weakness, she placed her hand upon the door, which yielded readily to even her light hand, and in the next moment found herself in the presence of about a dozen men, all more or less intoxicated.  Their loud, insane mirth was instantly checked by her entrance.  They were all men who were in the habit of mingling daily in good society, and more than one of them knew Marshall, and instantly recognised his wife.  No rudeness was, of course, offered her.  On the contrary, two or three came forward, and kindly inquired, though they guessed too well, her errand there at such an hour.

“Has my husband been here to-night, Mr.—?” she asked, in a choking voice, of one whose countenance she instantly recognised.

“I have not met with him, Mrs. Marshall,” was the reply, in a kind, sympathizing tone, “but I will inquire if any one here has seen him.”

These inquiries were made, and then Mr.—­came forward again, and said, in a low tone,

“Come with me, Mrs. Marshall.”

As the two emerged into the street, Mr.—­said,