Under this feeling, I made an effort to rally myself, but in vain--and sank lower from the struggle to rise above the gloom that overshadowed me.
When my husband came home at dinner time, I tried to meet him with a smile; but I felt that the light upon my countenance was feeble, and of brief duration.

He looked at me earnestly, and in his kind and gentle way, enquired if I felt no better, affecting to believe that my ailment was one of the body instead of the mind.

But I scarcely answered him, and I could see that he felt hurt.

How, much more wretched did I become at this?
Could I have then retired to my chamber, and alone given my heart full vent in a passion of tears, I might have obtained relief to my feelings.

But I could not do this.
While I sat at the table forcing a little food into my mouth for appearance sake, my husband said: "You remember the fine lad who has been with me for some time ?" I nodded my head, but the question did not awaken in my mind the least interest.
"He has not made his appearance for several days; and I learned this morning, on sending to the house of his mother, that he is very ill." "Ah!" was my indifferent response.