Year: 1877

leCJ WIS klsSeu again, anu thch IctulHcu
to the drawer in the secretary from
which it had been taken. In this act
for an instant, the miniture of a lady |
met the gaze of Mrs Rowland. Locking
the drawer her husband put the key in
his pocket, and then resting both arms !
on the leaf OF the secretary, buried his
face in them and sat motionIess.


Turning away as noiselesslv as she had
approached, Mrs Rowland fled back to
her chamber in wild fight, and sat down
painting in bewildcrmcnt. As soon as
thought began to move in determined
way, the first result was flood OF indig- |
nation, a burning sense of wrong, and it |
was only by an effort that the outraged
wife could hold herself back from con-
fronting her husband and demanding to |
see the miniature. A camer, but not
less painful state succeeded, in which |
conscience whispered of Indifference and
neglect. Had she turned habitually her |
most or her least attractive side to her |
husband? Had Ae kept herself lovely
in his eycs--lovely in temper and lovely
in person? Her heart sank: it grew
darker and darker around her; lite
seemed crushed out,


"Who is it~ This question marked
change in the current of Mrs. How
lands thoughts. Rapidly she passed in
review one lady friend after another, but
without an incident to fix suspicion.
The times and seasons in which her hus
band had been absent from home were
dwelt upon. Once week regularly he
weEt out in the evening, occasionally
twice. The regular absence was for the
purpose Of attending literary society
at least so he had informed his wife.
Now, for the first time, doubt of his
truth crept in and this doubt was the
sweeping away of all the sure founda-
ton on which her soul had rested.


For time Mr.. Rowland remained sit,
ting at his secretary with his face buried
in his hands At length, rising with slow
weary motion, as if of one exhausted by
bodily or mental exertion, he drew out
his watch.


"Halfpast nine.' was calculated in
surprise. And then he looked through
the door over towards the chamber
whittier his wife had gone with the
children, and stood listening for some
sound. All was silent. For a short time
he moved in an uneasy, irresolute way
about the room, and sitting down, tried
to find interest in the pages of a book.
But in little while the volume closed
in his hand. Thought was too busy in
another direction to dwell even with
lavorite author.


"Ten o'clock! !" The bell was ringing
its clear notes from neighboring steeple.
Mr.. Rowland started up,and turning out
the light. went over to the sleeping
His wife was in bel. lie spoke to her.
but she did not answer.


care you aslecp?" No motion nor re-
Spouse of any kind. She lay with her face
nearly hidden under the bed clothes. lle
looked at her in astrange earnest manner
for some moments, and then, moving
about noiseessly prepared for rest. The
day had been one of much activity, and
Mr.. Rowland was weary enough for
sleep. Soon after his head touched the
pillow he was in the land of dreams
His deep breathing had scarcely given
evidence OF the fact ere a light movement
on the part of Mrs. Rowland showed her
to be awake. Presently she drew the
clothes from her face, and raised herself
cautiously The heavy breathing of her
husband was not disturbed. She sat up
in bed he still slept on; she glided from
beneath the covering, and cropping in the
darkness, found her husbands vest, from
which she took key,


"Mother" The slight noise made
opening the chamber door had disturbed
one of the children. Mrs. Rowland
stood still holding her breath. The call
was not repeated, and she went out,
creeping her way along the passage with
a hand on the wall. Entering the room
she sought she closed the door behind
her and drew the belt, fastening herself
in. After lighting the gas she went to
her husbands secretary, and with the
kew in her possession unlocked one of the
private drawers. Her hand shook as the
kew ratified on the scutCheOn before
way was found into the wards The
first object that met her view as the
drawer came open was morocco minia-
ture case, which she seized upon with a
clutch as eager as that of a bird of prey
and bearing it to the gas-light, unloosed
her clasp and exposed the fSce OF her
rival.


It was n young and lovely face, and
the eyes looked up into hers with ten
der and sweet expression. Away from
the pure forehead the hair Of golden au-
burn fell smooth back, and lay in curls
| hnt tIh
purer than alabaster. The lips were
full, soft, and arched as il for fight of
arrows. Loves witchery was in the
picture countenance.


Still, very still, did the wife sit and
gaze down upon her rivals face-that
face on which, scarcely an hour before,
she had seen her husbands kisses laid.
Still very still, she sat, the tears creep.
ing out of her eyes, falling slowly over
her cheeks and dropping upon the mini
ature. Was she jealous of that rival :?
No Her heart was too glad for ieal
ousy, too full of joy, too wild with a new
born Happiness. The bride of ten years
ago was the rival of to-day, and the
heart of her husband was true to his
marriage vows. 1t was no fault of his
that he could not love what had become
unlovely. Not unlovely in the poorer
sisnifcation of that word, as indicating
changes wrought by the wearing hand of
time, but unlovely through indulgence
and impatience, and fretiulness, and in
the neglect OF self-disciplineunlovely,
also, from carelessness of attire and per
sonal neatness.


With the image of herself as she was
ten years before, and with the image of
her husband fondly, passionately kissing
that image, dwelling in her imagination,
Mrs. Rowland went back to her he'd.
She had suddenly awakened from a
dream, and the language of her heart
was "Thank God, | am awakeW


As they sat at breakfast on the next
morning, Mrs. Rowland noticed change
in the expression of her husbands face
as he looked at her across the table, let.