ikes our New York friends very much," said Dr. Lacey.
"And I think you will allow that she shows good taste in the choice of her
associates."

"Oh, yes, admirable," returned Mrs. Carrington, "almost as good taste as
some of my acquaintance show in preferring her."

"What do you mean?" asked Dr. Lacey.

"Why, I mean," said Mrs. Carrington, "that I am puzzled to know what
attraction such a simple-minded girl as Fanny can have for a person of
your intelligence."

Dr. Lacey bit his lip, but forcing down his anger said, "She possesses the
same attraction which every guileless, innocent person has."

"Guileless and innocent," repeated Mrs. Carrington; "rather call her
artful and designing. Depend upon it, doctor, you have only seen the
bright side of her disposition. You should see her in her room, and know
how much trouble her sister has with her!"

She might have said more, but Dr. Lacey stopped her by saying rather
warmly, "Mrs. Carrington, you shall not talk so about Fanny. I know you do
not like her, and consequently, whatever you can say of her will have no
effect upon me."

So saying, he quitted the apartment, leaving Mrs. Carrington to her own
reflections. They were not very pleasant, for Dr. Lacey's manner had said
as plainly as words could say that she had better mind her own business,
and she began to think so herself, for she muttered, "After all, what is
it to me if he does like Fanny? I am bound fast, but oh, if I were free,
I'd compass heaven and earth to secure him." Her wish to be free was soon
realized.

That afternoon, when the Sea Gull came up from Louisville, it brought home
her husband, wearied, worn out and sick. He took his bed, and never left
his room again until strong men carried him out and laid him down to sleep
in the silent graveyard. The close of his life was calm and peaceful, for
he had early chosen the better part, and he looked upon the grave as but a
stepping stone from earth to heaven.

His life was a dreary pilgrimage, for though he possessed for his young,
giddy wife, a strong, ardent affection, he had long known that it was not
returned, and he felt that she would be happier if he were dead. She,
however, paid him as much attention during his illness as the gay life she
led would allow; but she was often away, and night after night was he left
alone with his Bible and his God, while she was in the midst of some
fashionable amusement. Her neglect was, however, partly made up t