tion with her, in
which she urged her, by every consideration, to return; and we had
reason to think, when she left our house, that she went back to
you."

"Such is not the case," said Mr. Lane, with disappointment, and
something of sadness in his tone. "I have not seen her since the
morning of our unhappy difference. Where can she have gone?"

Mr. Edmondson was silent.

"Did she say that she was going to return home?" asked Mr. Lane.

"No. But we had reason to think that such was her intention. Have
you heard nothing from her?"

"Not a word."

"It is strange!"

Mr. Lane heaved a deep sigh. A few more brief questions and answers
passed, and then the two men separated. The forsaken husband went
home with a sadder heart than he had yet known. The absence of his
wife and child for several days--both objects of real affection--and
absent under such peculiar and trying circumstances, had subdued, to
a great extent, his angry feelings. He was prepared to yield much.
He would even have gone to his wife, and acknowledged that he was
partly in error, in order to have brought about a reconciliation.
Something that she had said during their last, exciting interview,
which he had rejected as untrue, or not causes of complaint, had
represented themselves to his mind; and in the sober reflecting
states that were predominant, he saw that he had not in all things
treated her as an equal, nor regarded her at all times as possessing
a rational freedom as independent as his own. Though he did not
excuse her conduct, he yet thought of it less angrily than at first,
and was willing to yield something in order to restore the old
relations.

Anxiety and alarm now took possession of his mind. The distance
between them had become wider, and the prospect of a reconciliation
more remote. Amanda had gone, he could not tell whither. She had
neither money nor friends; he knew not into what danger she might
fall, nor what suffering she might encounter. It was plain from the
manner of her leaving the house of Mr. Edmondson, that her
resolution to remain away from him was fixed. He must, therefore,
seek her out, and invite her to return. He must yield if he would
reconcile this sad difficulty. And he was now willing to do so. But,
where was she? Whither should he go in search of the wanderer?

The very means which her friend had taken to induce Mrs. Lane to
return to her husband, had driven her farther away. The hint
touching her husband'