lls, and now about
the horses, till his poor wife was utterly lost in the complexity of
the accounts. She could by no means follow him in the details of his
story; nor could she quite sympathize with him in his indignation
against Mr. Sowerby, seeing that she did not comprehend at all the
nature of the renewing of a bill. The only part to her of importance
in the matter was the amount of money which her husband would be
called upon to pay; that, and her strong hope, which was already a
conviction, that he would never again incur such debts.

"And how much is it, dearest, altogether?"

"These men claim nine hundred pounds of me."

"Oh, dear! that is a terrible sum."

"And then there is the hundred and fifty which I have borrowed from
the bank--the price of the horse, you know; and there are some other
debts,--not a great deal, I think; but people will now look for every
shilling that is due to them. If I have to pay it all, it will be
twelve or thirteen hundred pounds."

"That will be as much as a year's income, Mark; even with the stall."
That was the only word of reproach she said--if that could be called
a reproach.

"Yes," he said; "and it is claimed by men who will have no pity in
exacting it at any sacrifice, if they have the power. And to think
that I should have incurred all this debt without having received
anything for it. Oh, Fanny, what will you think of me!" But she swore
to him that she would think nothing of it--that she would never bear
it in her mind against him--that it could have no effect in lessening
her trust in him. Was he not her husband? She was so glad she knew
it, that she might comfort him. And she did comfort him, making the
weight seem lighter and lighter on his shoulders as he talked of it.
And such weights do thus become lighter. A burden that will crush a
single pair of shoulders will, when equally divided--when shared by
two, each of whom is willing to take the heavier part--become light
as a feather. Is not that sharing of the mind's burdens one of the
chief purposes for which a man wants a wife? For there is no folly
so great as keeping one's sorrows hidden. And this wife cheerfully,
gladly, thankfully took her share. To endure with her lord all her
lord's troubles was easy to her; it was the work to which she had
pledged herself. But to have thought that her lord had troubles not
communicated to her,--that would have been to her the one thing not
to be borne. And then they dis