his wife
waited his coming with a feeling of troubled suspense such as she had
rarely, if ever, before experienced. Smiles, ready to be forced to her
countenance, were wreathing themselves in her imagination. She meant to
be "_so_ good," so loving, so considerate. A particular dish of which
he was so fond had been ordered,--it was a month since it had graced
their table.

But time moved on. It was thirty minutes past the dinner hour, and he
was still away. At last Mrs. Ellis gave him up. A full hour had
elapsed, and there was little probability of his return before the
close of business for the day. So she sat down with her children to eat
the meal which long delay had spoiled, and for which she had now but
little appetite.

Wearily passed the afternoon, and, as the usual time for Ellis's
appearance drew near, his wife began to look for his coming with
feelings of unusual concern. Not concern for him, but for herself. She
had pretty well made up her mind to inform him of what she had done,
but shrank from the scene which she had every reason to believe would
follow.

The twilight had just begun to fall, and Mrs. Ellis, with her babe in
her arms, was sitting in one of the parlours, waiting for and thinking
of her husband, when she heard his key in the door. He came in, and
moving along the entry with a quicker step than usual, went up-stairs.
Supposing that, not finding her above, he would come down to the
parlours, Mrs. Ellis waited nearly five minutes. Then she followed him
up-stairs. Not finding him in the nursery, she passed into their
chamber. Here she found him, lying across the bed, on which he had,
evidently, thrown himself under some strong excitement, or abandonment,
of feeling, for his head was not upon a pillow, and he lay perfectly
motionless, as if unconscious of her presence.

"Henry!" She called his name, but he made no answer, nor gave even a
sign.

"Henry! Are you sick?"

There was a slight movement of his body, but no reply.

"Henry! Henry!" Mrs. Ellis spoke in tones of anxiety, as she laid her
hand upon him. "Speak! What is the matter? Are you sick?"

A long deep sigh was the only answer.

"Why don't you speak, Henry?" exclaimed Mrs. Ellis. "You frighten me
dreadfully."

"Don't trouble me just now, if you please," said the wretched man, in a
low, half-whispering voice.

"But what ails you, Henry? Are you sick?"

"Yes."

"How? Where? What can I do for you?"

"Nothing!" was faintly