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in its seclusion. To me, sympathy is so sweet, so dear! My father was right in that. And as Isabel was a part of myself, it was natural that I should go to her- solace myself in her tears and tenderness.

"It was like turning to a stone. She uttered common-place platitudes, and busied herself in her mourning, which was most elegant of its kind. I believe she never shed a tear; and a woman whom sorrow does not touch, is a monstrosity.

"Afterwards she insisted upon going away while the house was altered and refurnished. I was too deeply stunned by grief to gainsay her, and she commanded with so imperious an air that I felt a word might bring on an outbreak. I had an intense dislike of disagreements, and had learned, ere this, that Isabel was no angel in temper. Then, too, a strange sweet hope was dawning upon me. The ideal happiness of youth raises us above depressing commonplaces. We are continually looking forward until some day when we find the flame of imagination, once so powerful, has burned out to ashes.

We came home at length, and took up a life so unlike the one I had planned, that I could hardly recognize myself as an actor in it. In autumn, our child was born. I can't tell you how I had counted on it, longed for it; but it was not the thing I wanted. A dark, weazen-faced little thing, with staring eyes, and thin, spider-like fingers, that seemed forever seeking to clutch something. There was a starved look in every feature, a sort of stunted development, that struck hard against my sense of harmony. But it was my child, and the thought of ownership gave me a thrill in spite of all that was lacking.

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It had a pleasant room and a nurse, and its mother, when she recovered, went back to her old place in society. She appeared to have an insatiable desire for excitement, change, gayety, and yet I fancied that she did not thoroughly enjoy them. As if she was trying to drown out something that haunted her; an unquiet ghost, that began to walk when we two were alone. "She did not love the child, that I soon saw. It was a sickly,

wailing baby, never ill enough to be in danger, never well enough to have its limbs round out, to grow rosy and smiling. Yet hungering for something, I unconsciously drew nigh that, fed my heart on the hope of what it might become; for at present it was not winsome. It never clung to one, as babies so frequently do; but when I took it, straightened itself defiantly, and sent up its piteous wail.

"And this was the manner in which my hopes had blossomed. A wife whose chief interest was in herself, a woman of a cold, yet passionate nature, who could control her temper admirably when she chose, but who did not always choose. Her persistence, even in the most trivial matter, was untiring; her will a very giant. As the months passed on, she made me feel as if I had wronged her in some way; and Heaven knows I was sore and humble enough to make any concession, had she charged me with neglect or coldness. But I could never bring her to any point of intimate conversation. She would not remain alone with me if she could avoid it, and so we came to have guests in. the house much of the time. Mrs. Delisser was with us also. My mother-in-law was still handsome and young looking for her years, but haughty and narrow-minded. There was not the slightest sympathy between us; and though there did not seem much with Isabel, the two agreed very well, for society was the god of both. There was nothing left for me but to count on my child.

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"If it had only been a boy,' Mrs. Delisser would say, would not mind its being so very plain; but it will be extremely mortifying for a girl.'

"In her eyes want of beauty was a capital crime in a woman. "I was not miserable all the time, for society had many charms for one constituted as I was. I had agreeable friends, and wealth brings various pleasures. Music became my passion, and I used to lose myself in its divine alleviations. I might have been more resolute if I had felt quite conscience-clear. If I had been more to Isabel in the beginning. if I had not

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allowed her to stray so far away from my heart. I could not instance any particular time, but I had a fatal misgiving that the foundation had not been altogether right. For it did not seem now as if Isabel had been the woman to treat any man as she had treated me in the days of our courtship. What wretched blindness had possessed me!

"There, Tresorier,"-and Dana paused, resting on his oar,— "look about in the wide, still night. If we did not come to just such calm oases in the desert of life it would be unendurable! God knows how weak we are, how wavering, how we cast about in our own desperate needs, and he has made some quiet places for temples, where we can utter our sorest cry in his ears alone."

The river had narrowed insensibly. On either side broad level shores, broken with clusters of shrubs at intervals, and the rank grass softly swaying in the night air. Wafts of distant clover fields, and the spice of orchards in their indescribable . greenery; the peculiar fragrance of wild grapes, some vines of which must have been near. The faint lights in some far cottages were the only suggestion of life. At the left they heard the monotone of the Hudson fretting its foamy way on and on. Claude held his breath, moved by the solemn beauty.

"You'll paint the better to-morrow for this," Dana continued. "And now I'm going to turn the boat about, and start her out here in the channel where the tide will float us."

With a stroke from the oar he executed his purpose. Then he drew it in, folded his arms, and lingered a moment, as if loth to begin. Claude's eyes questioned, but his lips were mute. A deeper feeling than interest was expressed in his face, sympathy absorbing and profound.

a

IX.

A MAN'S LOSS.

I

"WE had been married two years, when one evening, at a large party, a friend of Isabel's came suddenly upon her. was standing by, and she introduced me. A Mr. Maurice Chevenor, a man who would be pronounced fine looking at a first glance, but as I examined him closely, I found his face gave me a feeling of distrust. His eyes had a peculiar stealthy glitter. His forehead was high, but narrow at the temples, and his lips thin; but his figure was manly, his voice full and fine, and impressed you with a certain sense of power.

"I learned in the course of the evening that he had lately come into possession of a considerable fortune; that his family were well connected, though formerly poor. He had been the travelling agent of an importing house, or at least had gone abroad in that capacity. He had met Mr. Delisser in Paris a few days before his return, and would be happy to take the earliest opportunity to pay his respects to Mrs. Delisser. When we parted I invited him to call, and Isabel seconded my invitation. "I was not jealous. I don't know what I might have proved under the influence of a tenderer and more absorbing passion. I had grown so accustomed to Isabel's pleasing herself with the admiration of the world, that Mr. Chevenor's call meant no more than that of any other person. I did not even wonder what sort of friends they had been, though Mrs. Delisser glanced at Isabel with a sort of dismay as she made the announcement. I was not at all suspicious, and the acquaintance was renewed without comment. I knew Isabel well enough to believe she would never have married a poor man, so the

thought of his having been a lover never entered my mind. There was no change in her conduct to rouse me.

"There is a room at the rear of the house that in my father's time was used for a conservatory. Isabel had insisted upon its being altered and fitted up for a library, as it joined the drawing-room. One rainy afternoon in February I had been down there reading, and feeling drowsy, stretched myself on a sofa in the darkest corner, and soon fell asleep. The doors between were not entirely closed, but no one would have dreamed of visitors on such a day.

"I must have been sleeping very soundly, for I did not hear the slightest stir, though I will give Isabel the credit of possessing that rare quiet which is an admirable quality in any person. She always talked low, unless in a passion; her dresses were soft, and never rustled, and her motions were light and easy. Presently I started at the sound of a voice, which, though smooth and rapid, was not hers. Opening my eyes, I found the place in a twilight gloom. Before I could think, and much before I could have acted on the hastiest impulse, I heard Isabel say,

Nothing could make Even your love would

“You shall hear my justification. The world may think me cold and heartless, yes, even my own husband, but you must, you do know better! I told you when we parted that I could never be happy as the wife of a poor man. Luxury, and ease, and beautiful surroundings are absolute needs of my nature. I should be most miserable without them. amends for a hard, bald, distasteful life. have failed there. But I did mean to wait, for my beauty would not have waned in five years. I would not promise, it is true, but the idea was sacred to me. Then came the terrible winter of our misfortunes, and not ours alone. My father made a great effort to extricate himself, and kept up to the very last, for he was desperately proud. But my mother told me, taunted me, with having allowed my fine opportunities to slip, and pictured the life to which we must shortly be reduced. We

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