"But, do not leave me another time--not so long, Edward Do not leave

me alone. Your business is one thing. THAT you must, of course,

attend to; but hours--not of business--hours in which you do no

business--hours of leisure--your evenings, Edward--these you must

share with me--you must give to me entirely. Ah! will you not? will

you not promise me?"

These were among the last words which she spoke to me ere we slept

that night. The next morning, almost at awaking, she resumed the

same language. I could not help perceiving that she spoke in tones

of greater earnestness than usual--an earnestness expressive of

anxiety for which I felt at some loss to account. Still, the tenor

of what she said, at the time, gave me pleasure--a satisfaction

which I did not seek to conceal, and which, while it lasted, was

the sweetest of all pleasures to my soul. But the busy devil in my

heart made his suggestions also, which were of a kind to produce

any other but satisfying emotions. While I stood in my wife's

presence--in the hearing of her angel-voice, and beholding the pure

spirit speaking out from her eyes--he lay dormant, rebuked, within

his prison-house, crouching in quiet, waiting a more auspicious

moment for activity. Nor was he long in waiting; and then his cold,

insinuating doubts--his inquiries--begot and startled mine!

"Very good--all very good!" Such was the tone of his suggestions."

She may well compound for the evenings with you, since she gives

her whole mornings to your rival."

Archimedes asked but little for the propulsion of the world. The

jealous spirit--a spirit jealous like mine--asks still for the

moving of that little but densely-populous world, the human heart.

I forgot the sweet tones of my wife's words--the pure-souled words

themselves--tones and words which, while their sounds yet lingered

in my ears, I could not have questioned--I did not dare to question.

The tempter grew in the ascendant the moment I had passed out of

her sight; and when I met William Edgerton the next day, he acquired

greatly-increased power over my understanding.

William Edgerton had evidently undergone a change. He no longer met

my glances boldly with his own. Perhaps, had he done so, my eyes

would have been the first to shrink from the encounter. He looked

down, or looked aside, when he spoke to me; his words were few,

timorous, hesitating, but studiously conciliatory; and he lingered

no longer in my presence than was absolutely unavoidable. Was there

not a consciousness in this? and what consciousness? The devil at

my heart answered, and answered with truth, "He loves your wife."

It would have been well, perhaps, had the cruel fiend said nothing

farther. Alas! I would have pardoned, nay, pitied William Edgerton,

had the same chuckling spirit not assured me that she also was not

insensible to him. I was continually reminded of the words, "Your

business must, of course, be attended to!"




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