r weakness. She is your wife, and you must
bear with these things. It isn't manly in you to be vexed at every
trifle."

"Trifle! Humph! I'd like you to have a week of my experience. You
wouldn't talk any more about trifles."

"You should humour her a great deal, Harry. I am not so sure that you
are not quite as much to blame for these differences and fallings out
as she is."

"I wasn't to blame to-night, I am sure. Didn't I bring home Prescott,
thinking that she would be delighted to have me sit the evening with
her and read so charming an author? But, at the very proposition, she
flared up, and said she didn't want to hear my musty old histories.
Humph! A nice way to make a man love his home. Better for her and me,
too, I'm thinking, that she had listened to the history, and kept her
husband by her side."

"And for me, too," thought Wilkinson. "I should now, at least, be at
home with my loving-hearted wife. Ah, me!"

"Now, what am I to do, Jack--say? Give me your advice."

"The first thing for you to do is to go home, and to go at once. Come!"

And Wilkinson made another effort to rise; but the hand of Ellis bore
him down.

"Stay, stay!" he muttered, impatiently. "Now don't be in such a
confounded hurry. Can't you talk with an old friend for a minute or so?
Look here, I've been thinking--let me see--what was I going to say?"

The mind of Ellis was growing more and more confused; nor was the head
of Wilkinson so clear as when he entered the bar-room. The strong glass
of brandy toddy was doing its work on both of them.

"Let me see," went on Ellis, in a wandering way. "I was speaking of
Cara--oh, yes, of Cara. Bless her heart, but confound her crooked
temper! Now, what would you advise me to do, my old friend?"

"Go home, I have said," replied Wilkinson.

"And get my head combed with a three-legged stool? No, blast me if I
do! I've stayed out this long just to make her sensible of her
unkindness to one of the best of husbands--and I'm not going home until
I am dead drunk. I guess that'll bring her to her bearings. Ha! Don't
you think so, Jack?"

"Good heavens!" was just at this instant exclaimed by one of the
inmates of the bar-room, in a low, startled tone of voice.

"Your wife, as I live!" fell from the lips of Ellis, whose face was
turned towards the entrance of the bar-room.

Wilkinson sprang to his feet. Just within the door stood a female form,
her head uncovered, her under person clad in a white