During the winter Carrie wrote home frequently, giving accounts of the many gay and fashionable parties which she attended, and once in a letter to Anna she wrote, "The flattering attentions which I receive have more than, once made Ashmore jealous." Two years from the time they were married Mrs.Ashmore was brought back to her home a pale, faded invalid, worn out by constant dissipation and the care of a sickly baby, so poor and blue that even I couldn't bear to touch it.

Three days after their arrival Mr.Evelyn brought to us his bride, Cousin Emma, blooming with health and beauty.
I could scarcely believe that the exceedingly beautiful Mrs.Evelyn was the same white-faced girl who, two years before, had sat with me beneath the old grapevine.
The day after she came I went with her to visit Carrie, who, the physicians said, was in a decline.

I had not seen her before since her return, and on entering the sick-room, I was as much surprised at her haggard face, sunken eyes, and sallow skin, as was Mr.Ashmore at the appearance of Emma.

"Is it possible," said he, coming forward, "is it possible, Emma--Mrs.Evelyn, that you have entirely recovered ?" I remembered what he had once said about "invalid wives," and I feared that the comparison he was evidently making would not be very favorable toward Carrie.

We afterward learned, however, that he was the kindest of husbands, frequently walking half the night with his crying baby, and at other times trying to soothe his nervous wife, who was sometimes very irritable.
Before we left Carrie drew Emma closely to her and said, "They tell me I probably shall never get well, and now, while I have time, I wish to ask your forgiveness for the great wrong I once did you." "How?
When ?" asked Emma quickly, and Carrie contined: "When first I saw him who is my husband, I determined to leave no means untried to secure him for myself; I knew you were engaged, but I fancied that your ill-health annoyed him, and played my part well.