`No--how should you, when you never do anything to try them?'

`Then why do you try yours, Arthur?'

`Do you think I have nothing to do but to stay at home and take care of myself like a woman?'

`Is it impossible then, to take care of yourself like a man when you go abroad? You told me that you could--and would too; and you promised--`

`Come, come, Helen, don't begin with that nonsense now; I can't bear it.'

`Can't bear what?--to be reminded of the promises you have broken?'

`Helen, you are cruel. If you knew how my heart throbbed, and how every nerve thrilled through me while you spoke, you would spare me. You can pity a dolt of a servant for breaking a dish; but you have no compassion for me, when my head is split in two and all on fire with this consuming fever.'

He leant his head on his hand, and sighed. I went to him and put my hand on his forehead. It was burning indeed.

`Then come with me into the drawing-room, Arthur; and don't take any more wine; you have taken several glasses since dinner, and eaten next to nothing all the day. How can that make you better?'

With some coaxing and persuasion, I got him to leave the table. When the baby was brought I tried to amuse him with that; but poor little Arthur was cutting his teeth, and his father could not bear his complaints; sentence of immediate banishment was passed upon him on the first indication of fretfulness; and, because, in the course of the evening, I went to share his exile for a little while, I was reproached, on my return, for preferring my child to my husband. I found the latter reclining on the sofa just as I had left him.

`Well!' exclaimed the injured man, in a tone of pseudo resignation. `I thought I wouldn't send for you; I thought I'd just see--how long it would please you to leave me alone.'

`I have not been very long, have I, Arthur? I have not been an hour, I'm sure.'

`Oh, of course, an hour is nothing to you, so pleasantly employed; but to me--`

`It has not been pleasantly employed,' interrupted I. `I have been nursing our poor little baby, who is very far from well, and I could not leave him till I got him to sleep.'

`Oh to be sure, you're overflowing with kindness and pity for everything but me.'

`And why should I pity you? what is the matter with you?'

`Well! that passes everything! After all the wear and tear that I've had, when I come home sick and weary, longing for comfort, and expecting to find attention and kindness, at least, from my wife,--she calmly asks what is the matter with me!'

`There is nothing the matter with you,' returned I, `except what you have wilfully brought upon yourself against my earnest exhortation and entreaty.'

`Now, Helen,' said he, emphatically, half rising from his recumbent posture, `if you bother me with another word, I'll ring the bell and order six bottles of wine--and, by Heaven, I'll drink them dry before I stir from this place!'

I said no more but sat down before the table and drew a book towards me,