resumed his old habits.  He felt that it was impossible to endure the horrors of total abstinence, and, now that he was no longer under the observation of his family, he again tried to satisfy his conscience by promising himself that he would gradually reduce the amount used until he could discontinue it utterly—­delusive hope, that has mocked thousands like himself.  If he could have gone to an asylum and surrounded his infirm will by every possible safeguard, he might have been carried through the inevitable period of horrible depression; but even then the habit had become so confirmed that his chances would have been problematical, for experience sadly proves that confirmed opium-consumers are ever in danger of a relapse.

CHAPTER XXVIII

NEW YORK’S HUMANITY

Mrs. Jocelyn drooped in her husband’s absence, for every year had increased her sense of dependence.  She felt somewhat like one who is drifting on a wreck.  If the sea would only remain calm, all might be well; but the sea never is at rest very long, and if storms, dangers, and emergencies occurred what would she do?

Each day that passed without word from her husband grew longer, and when at last a letter came it was vague and unsatisfactory.  He hoped he was better; he hoped to find a foothold; and then came again several days of silence which were almost as oppressive to Mildred as to herself.

Meanwhile their funds were failing fast, and they both felt that they ought not to sell anything else for mere living expenses.  More critical emergencies might arise and find them destitute.  If Mr. Jocelyn should become seriously ill in the South, they must be in a position to have him cared for and brought home.  Mildred with extreme reluctance was compelled to face the necessity of giving up her studies so that she might earn something at once.  She had about decided to reveal her troubles to Miss Wetheridge, when a hasty note from her friend swept away all immediate chance of aid in that direction.  “The gentleman to whom I was soon to be married,” she wrote, “has not been strong for a year past, and a few days since he was taken with a hemorrhage from his lungs.  His physician ordered him to go immediately to Nassau.  In accordance with our mutual wishes we were married quietly in the presence of a few relatives, and by the time this note reaches you we shall be on our way to the South.  My heart is burdened with anxiety, and my hourly prayer is that God will spare the life of one so dear to me.  I wish I could see you before I sail, but it is impossible.  I have had to leave almost everything undone.  Write me often.”

This note threw Mildred on her own resources.  She felt that Mr. Wentworth could do little for her beyond certifying to her character, for he was the pastor of a congregation of which a large proportion were as poor as herself.  There was naught to do but go to work like the others in uncomplaining silence and earn her bread.