who has made
me father and master in this house? Unto God shall I have to render my
account; and though I would spare your feelings, I must still be true to
my conscience."

"As far as the religion itself goes, I don't care so much," responded
Juliet, attempting to dry her eyes with her handkerchief, already
saturated, "but what grieves me to the heart, what I cannot bear nor
tolerate is this association with the low and vulgar," the one idea
still uppermost in the weak woman's mind.

"Juliet, are you never to have thoughts higher than those that pertain
to society and fashion? Do you never think the time is surely coming
when you must give up all these things to which you are attached, when
death must come to you, and a new life, and have you no care as to what
that life shall be?"

The lady shivered and covered up her eyes.

"Why do you talk thus to me? Do you not know that I have a perfect
horror of such things? O, John, the very thought of dying almost
distracts me. _Must_ we all die? How I wish we could live forever, and
never grow old! When we get very old, John, then, if I should be taken
sick, I want you to hold me strong by the hand that death may not take
me."

"But, Juliet, if you should be taken sick before you are old?"

"I have no fear, John, while you are with me, even though I be sick. Do
you not know, have you not learned, that I fear nothing when with you,
and have a good hold of your hand? In a thunder-shower I am so timid
without you, I think every bolt is to strike me; if you are near, but
you must be close, I have no fear. It seems nothing can harm me if you
are by. So, John, while I have you, I have no fear of death."

Mr. Temple had dropped the fan, and Juliet's two little hands were
nestled in his strong, broad palms. He looked with tenderness into the
face upturned so trustfully to his.

"But if I should die, Juliet, and you should not have me?"

Juliet gave a piercing scream and threw herself into her husband's arms.
Was it for the first time such a thought had ever been presented to her
mind? Life without her husband! She could not conceive of it. It seemed
as if he had always been with her; as though he had become so much a
part of herself that she could not live without him. For, though she
wearied and annoyed him, teased, opposed, and vexed him, she loved him
beyond all things, even her children. Beneath all her vanity, folly, and
thoughtlessness throbbed one passion deepest of