t was next
to impossible for him to do it, and it would at best involve a great
pecuniary sacrifice. She overruled and remonstrated, and was so firm in
her objections to every suggestion of his of accompanying or following
her, that finally, in spite of all his anxiety, John seemed almost piqued
at her preference for going alone. In every conversation on the subject I
saw more and more clearly that Ellen was right. He did love her--love her
warmly, devotedly.

Two weeks from the day of my conversation with her they sailed for
Liverpool. The summer was to be spent in England, and the winter in Nice
or Mentone.

Alice, the eldest daughter, a loving, sunshiny girl of twelve, was
installed in her mother's room. This was Ellen's especial wish. She knew
that in this way John would be drawn to the room constantly. All her own
little belongings were given to Alice.

"Only think, Auntie," said she, "mamma has given me, all for my own, her
lovely toilette set, and all the Bohemian glass on the bureau, and her
ivory brushes! She says when she comes home she shall refurnish her room
and papa's too!"

Oh, my wise Ellen. Could Emma Long have done more subtly!

Early on the first evening after John returned from New York, having seen
them off, I missed him. I said bitterly to myself, "At Mrs. Long's, I
suppose," and went up-stairs to find Alice. As I drew near her room I
heard his voice, reading aloud. I went in. He and Alice were lying
together on a broad chintz-covered lounge, as I had so often seen him and
Ellen.

"Oh, Auntie, come here," said Alice, "hear mamma's letter to me! She gave
it to papa in New York. She says it is like the sealed orders they give to
captains sometimes, not to be opened till they are out at sea. It is all
about how I am to fill her place to papa. And there are ever so many
little notes inside, more orders, which even papa himself is not to see!
only I suppose he'll recognize the things when I do them!"

At that moment, as I watched John Gray's face, with Alice's nestled close,
and his arms clasped tight around her, while they read Ellen's letter, a
great load rolled off my heart. I went through many dark days afterward,
but I never could quite despair when I remembered the fatherhood and the
husbandhood which were in his eyes and his voice that night

The story of the next twelve months could be told in few words, so far as
its external incidents are concerned. It could not be told in a thousand