fling nature. He is certainly a most
wonderful physician, and I feel bound to record that his mind is as
clear for business as if no shadow had fallen upon it.

Dr. Zabriskie loves his wife, but in a way torturing to himself and
to her. If she is gone from the house he is wretched, and yet when she
returns he often forbears to speak to her, or if he does speak it is
with a constraint that hurts her more than his silence. I was present
when she came in today. Her step, which had been eager on the stairway,
flagged as she approached the room, and he naturally noted the change
and gave his own interpretation to it. His face, which had been very
pale, flushed suddenly, and a nervous trembling seized him which he
sought in vain to hide. But by the time her tall and beautiful figure
stood in the doorway, he was his usual self again in all but the
expression of his eyes, which stared straight before him in an agony of
longing only to be observed in those who have once seen.

"Where have you been, Zulma?" he asked, as contrary to his wont, he
moved to meet her.

"To my mother's, to Arnold & Constable's, and to the hospital, as
you requested," was her quick answer, made without faltering or
embarrassment.

He stepped still nearer and took her hand, and as he did so my eye
fell on his and I noted that his finger lay over her pulse in seeming
unconsciousness.

"Nowhere else?" he queried.

She smiled the saddest kind of smile and shook her head; then,
remembering that he could not see this movement, she cried in a wistful
tone:

"Nowhere else, Constant; I was too anxious to get back."

I expected him to drop her hand at this, but he did not; and his finger
still rested on her pulse.

"And whom did you see while you were gone?" he continued.

She told him, naming over several names.

"You must have enjoyed yourself," was his cold comment, as he let go her
hand and turned away. But his manner showed relief, and I could not but
sympathize with the pitiable situation of a man who found himself forced
into means like this for probing the heart of his young wife.

Yet when I turned towards her, I realized that her position was but
little happier than his. Tears are no strangers to her eyes, but those
which welled up at this moment seemed to possess a bitterness that
promised but little peace for her future. Yet she quickly dried them and
busied herself with ministrations for his comfort.

If I am any judge of woman, Zulm