Putting his arm about her, he kissed her fondly and protested with mingled energy and feeling: "I believe you to be all you should be--a true woman and true wife." Her face lighted and she clung for a moment in passionate delight to his breast; then she caught his look, which was tender but not altogether open, and the shadows fell again as she murmured: "You are not satisfied.

Oh, what do you see, what do others see, that I should be the subject of doubt?
Tell me! I can never right myself till I know." "I see a troubled face when I should see a happy one," he answered lightly; then, as she still clung in very evident question to his arm, he observed gravely: "Two weeks ago you were the life of this house, and of every other house into which your duties carried you.

Why shouldn't you be the same to-day?
Answer me that, dear, and all my doubts will vanish, I assure you." "Henry,"-- drooping her head and lacing her fingers in and out with nervous hesitation,--"you will think me very foolish,--I know that it will sound foolish, childish even, and utterly ridiculous; but I can explain myself no other way.

I have had a frightful experience--here--in my own house--on the spot where I have been so happy, so unthinkingly happy.

Henry--do not laugh--it is real, very real, to me.