gement by her mother's influence vanished, and
I saw that the new tie between us would be stronger than any earthly
power.

"Well," said George abruptly, after a pause, "I wouldn't be so
disobliging about a little thing like that."

"Ah! you wait until you can afford the opportunity of furnishing names,
and see what you will do," I said jokingly. My joke was not generally
appreciated. The widow gave me a look a little short of savage. Bessie
suppressed a smile, in order to give me a reproof with her eyes, and
Miss Van just then thought of something wholly irrelevant to say, as if
she had not noticed my remark at all. On the whole, I was made to feel
that it was a disgraceful failure.

CHAPTER IX.

THE SHADOW ON OUR LIFE.

Another summer with all its glory was upon us. It was nearly a year
since we were married, and I was beginning to feel the dignity of a
family man. As Bessie regained her strength and bloom, she seemed to
have a matronly grace and self-command quite new to her. As I looked
back over our married life I saw no dark shadows, no coldness between us
two, no misunderstandings that need occasion regret, but somehow it
seemed as though that year had not been so bright and happy as it ought
to have been. We had lived under an irksome restraint that was
depressing. I had felt it more than Bessie, for she had been accustomed
to submit to her mother, and did not chafe, but she plainly saw that my
life had not that blithesomeness that would have been natural to me, and
which she would have been glad to give it.

It was the presence and influence of the mother-in-law that gave a
chill to my home life, and yet I could accuse the good woman of no
special offence. She was no vulgar meddler, and never wished or intended
to mar our domestic felicity. She had managed to keep control of our
household arrangements and we had passively acquiesced, but I felt that
it would be better if Bessie would take command and cater more to our
own desires. We could then have things our own way, and her position
would be more becoming as the lady of the house. She began to regard it
in the same light herself. Our social life, too, had been restrained and
restricted. I was very fond of having my friends about me, and wished
them to come in for the evening or to dinner or to pass a Sunday
afternoon in our little bower, as often as they could find it agreeable.
Mrs. Pinkerton made no open objections, but I knew the company of