ing in proportion as he felt
the fear of her reappearance, perhaps next time, in place of making his
breakfast, to run away with him to the dire place of four letters. All
her peculiarities were now virtues--nay, the very things which had
appeared to him the most indefensible took on the aspect of angelic
endowments. While her careful housewifery was all intended for his
bodily health and comfort, her perseverance in adhering to the one
chapter and the one psalm was due to that love of iteration which
inspires those who are never weary of well-doing. And what was more
extraordinary, one verse of the psalm--that which we have quoted--had
special reference to the manner of her death, and her deliverance from
condemnation in the world to come. No doubt the man who meditates upon
his own crime or folly at the very moment when he is suffering from its
sharp recalcitrations, is just about as miserable a wretch as the
reformatory of the world can present; but when, to the effects upon
himself, he is compelled to think of the cruelty he has exercised
towards others--and those perhaps found out to be his best friends--we
doubt if there are any words beyond the vocabulary of the condemned that
are sufficient to express his anguish. Even this did not comprehend all
the suffering of Mr. Dodds, for, was he not under doom without knowing
what form it was to assume, whether the spectre (whose cookery might be
a sham) would choke him, burn him, or run away with him?

Deeply steeped in this remorseful contemplation, during which the figure
of his ill-used wife flitted before the eye of his fancy with scarcely
less of substantial reality than she had shown in her spectral form, he
found that he had lost all regard to time. The night was fast setting
in, the shadows of the tall houses were falling deeper and deeper on the
room, and the Sabbath stillness was a solemn contrast to the
perturbations inside the chamber of his soul, where "the serpents and
the cockatrices would not be charmed." Still, everything within and
without was dreary, and the spoliation of his means did not tend to
enliven the outer scene, or impart a charm to the owner. While in this
state of depression, Tammas heard a knock at the door. It was not, as on
the former occasions, what is called a tirl. It might be a neighbour, or
it might be an old crony, and he stood in need of some one to raise his
spirits, so he went to the door and opened it. But what was his horror
w