, would never leave it again! How could she endure that
fearful pang of humiliation and self-abasement that wrung her soul, and
would grow stronger with every proof of kindness that her husband could
give?

No love--no heart to give her under all his goodness and attention. She
kept repeating such words to herself--they would never cease to ring in
her ears--there could be no pleasure so entrancing that they would not
mar it by their whispers--no grief so deep that they would not torture
her with the recollection that she was powerless to comfort or aid the
man who had made her his wife.

But she must bear it all in silence; hers was one of those deep,
reticent natures which could resolve on a painful thing and carry out
her determination to the very end. She would weary him with no sign of
affection.

The playful exactions of a young wife, which are so pleasant to a loving
husband, must be carefully avoided. He must be allowed to endure her
without revolt--not finding her much in his way.

That was the first thought upon which she settled, even while this
earliest whirl of pain and tremble made her head dizzy and her heart
sick.

She heard Elsie's voice ringing out in a gay song: she went mechanically
on with her dressing, listening to that merry song in the midst of her
bewildering thoughts with a dreary feeling of desolation.

If she could have sat down in the midst of her new life, and died
without further trouble or pain--that became her one thought! If that
man who was her husband, and his sister could enter the room and find
her dead, they might feel regret for a time, but very soon even her
memory would pass away from that old house, and out of their hearts,
where she had so shallow a resting-place, and in the grave she might
find quiet.

Elsie came dancing in, and exclaimed--

"Oh, you are dressed! I hear Grant on the stairs. May I open the door?"

Elizabeth was seemingly quiet, but the change in her manner would have
been apparent to any one less self-engrossed than Elsie.

"Open it," she answered; "I am ready."

Grantley Mellen entered the room, and led them both away down stairs;
but he felt the sudden tremor in his young wife's hand, the sort of
shrinking from his side, and his suspicious mind caught fire instantly.
He noted every change in her face, every sad inflexion in her voice, and
at once there came back to him the conversation he had held with Mrs.
Harrington.

Could Elizabeth have k