ight colour in her cheek, a merry
light in her dark eyes, and a smile on her lips. These, and a becoming
dress, would have made her a pretty woman; but a friendless, convent
girlhood, followed by an early marriage, and unswerving obedience to the
calls of a husband and family who demanded and accepted her unceasing
attention and the sacrifice of her youth, without a word of gratitude or
sympathy, had made her what she was--a plain, insignificant,
faded-looking creature, with unsatisfied yearnings, and heartaches that
she did not betray, fearing to be misunderstood or ridiculed.

[Illustration: "FAST ASLEEP IN THE LOW WICKER ARMCHAIR."]

She listened quietly to his complaints, and bore without reproach his
mocking answers to her offers of help. Then she softly drew up the
blind, and went downstairs, returning with a daintily-spread tray. But
the tempting oysters she had had such trouble to procure were pettishly
refused, and the tray was not even allowed to be in the room. The wife
sat down near the window, and took up a little garment she was
making--her face was flushed, and her lips trembled as she stitched and
folded--it seemed so hard that she could do nothing to please him,
knowing, as she did, that he considered hers an idle life, since they
kept servants to do the work of the house. He did not know of her
heart-breaking attempts to keep within the limits of her weekly
allowance, with unexpected calls from the nursery, and kitchen
breakages; he forgot that it would not go so far now that there were
more children to clothe and feed, and, when she gently hinted this, he
hurled the bitter taunt of extravagance at her, not dreaming that she
was really pinched for money, and stinting herself of a hundred and one
things necessary to her comfort and well-being for the sake of her
family. Indeed, it was part of his theory never to yield to requests of
this kind, since they were sure to be followed by others at no distant
date, and, besides, he greatly prided himself on firmness in domestic
matters.

She was very worried to-day; anxious about her husband's health, and
sorely grieved at the futility of all her efforts to interest or help
him. Great tears gathered in her eyes, and were ready to fall, but they
had to be forced back, for she was called out of the room again.

And so it went on throughout the afternoon--in and out--up and
down--never resting--never still--her thoughts always with the
discontented invalid, w