The union I need scarcely say was unhappy--most unhappy--though my discomforts were scrupulously concealed, and I was looked upon as a devoted wife, and my husband as a model of conjugal affection.

But this was merely the surface--internally all was strife and misery.

Erelong my dislike of my husband increased to absolute hate, while on his part, though he still regarded me with as much passion as heretofore, he became frantically jealous--and above all of Edward Braddyll of Portfield, who, as his bosom friend, and my distant relative, was a frequent visiter at the house.

To relate the numerous exhibitions of jealousy that occurred would answer little purpose, and it will be enough to say that not a word or look passed between Edward and myself but was misconstrued.

I took care never to be alone with our guest--nor to give any just ground for suspicion--but my caution availed nothing.
An easy remedy would have been to forbid Edward the house, but this my husband's pride rejected.