e; and so at first had Althea esteemed
them to be. But by and by--ah, it is an old story, and the saddest,
sorriest of all stories in this life of ours; reading it, or hearing it,
one sighs that our guardian angel's wings are invisible, and that once
from out their protecting shadow, we rush headlong unto darkness and
death.

We will not assert that Thornton felt not the death of his only son; he
was not so inhuman as to be unaffected. He would have given all his
earthly possessions to hear again that winsome voice of his child
resounding through the house. He had not realized

"How much of hope, how much of joy,
May be buried up with an only boy!"

until the house was darkened by the death of Johnny. The grief which he
experienced, however, affected him strangely. As we have seen, instead
of softening his selfish nature, it rendered him more morose and
censorious. It alienated, instead of binding him closer to his bereaved
wife.

One reason was in this; that Althea had for him now no winning ways. She
made no effort at conciliation, and sought not to give or to receive
mutual sympathy. Indeed, from the period of the conversation above
recorded between husband and wife, he was like a volcano, and she like
an iceberg. As much as he was capable of loving, he loved Althea.
Desirable as had been her fortune in his eyes, he would never have
practised such a series of stratagems and self-denials, had she not
personally been of great value in his eyes. When won, and she was surely
his, he discontinued his deception, and appeared his natural self. She
became to him, as we have before said, like the pet dog to his young
master, though secretly beloved, yet ill-treated, scolded and abused.
The thought of her ever being lost to him had not occurred to his mind,
until he learned of the visit of Hubert Lisle. With him, Thornton well
knew he would suffer in comparison. That was the reason Thornton's
mother had taken such infinite and dishonorable pains in preventing his
coming to his dying father. Althea would surely prefer her cousin.

But Thornton was at a loss what to make of Althea's present behavior. He
had at first felt a deadly jealousy of Hubert. That emotion had almost
over-shadowed his grief. But he could not learn that any communication
was kept up between the parties. No letters came to and fro. The mention
of Hubert's name caused no blush upon Althea's cheek. She spoke of him
kindly and naturally, as of a bro