During the earlier portions of his married life, Mr.Leslie's mind had chafed a good deal at what seemed to him Madeline's unreasonable and unwomanly conduct; the soreness of this was felt even after the change in her exterior that we have noticed, and he often indulged in the habit of mentally writing bitter things against her.

He had well nigh broken her heart; and was yet impatient because she gave signs indicative of pain.
And so, as years wore on, the distance grew wider instead of becoming less and less.

The husband had many things to draw him forth into the busy world, where he established various interests, and sought pleasure in their pursuits, while the wife, seldom seen abroad, buried herself at home, and gave her very life for her children.
But, even maternal love could not feed for very many years the flame of her life.

The oil was too nearly exhausted when that new supply came.

For a time, the light burned clearly; then it began to fail, and ere the mother's tasks were half done, it went out in darkness.
How heavy the shadows which then fell upon the household and upon the heart of Edward Leslie! As he stood, alone, in the chamber of death, with his eyes fixed upon the pale, wasted countenance, no more to quicken with life, and felt on his neck the clinging arms that were thrown around it a few moments before the last sigh of mortality was breathed; and still heard the eager, "Kiss me, Edward, once, before I die!"-- a new light broke upon him,--and he was suddenly stung by sharp and self-reproaching thoughts.