riving him onward to destruction.

CHAPTER V.

ELLIS, excited and angry, not only left his wife's presence, but the
house. Repulsed by one pole, he felt the quick attraction of another.
Not a moment did he hesitate, on gaining the street, but turned his
steps toward the room of Jerome, where a party of gay young men were to
assemble for purposes of conviviality.

We will not follow him thither, nor describe the manner of his
reception. We will not picture the scene of revelry, nor record the
coarse jests that some of the less thoughtful of the company ventured
to make on the appearance of Ellis in their midst--for, to most of his
friends, it was no secret that his wife's uncertain temper often caused
him to leave his home in search of more congenial companionship.
Enough, that at eleven o'clock, Ellis left the house of Jerome, much
excited by drink.

The pure, cool night air, as it bathed the heated temples of Henry
Ellis, so far sobered him by the time he reached his own door, that a
distant remembrance of what had occurred early in the evening was
present to his thoughts; and, still beyond this, a remembrance of how
he had been received on returning at a late hour in times gone by. His
hand was in his pocket, in search of his dead-latch key, when he
suddenly retreated from the door, muttering to himself--

"I'm not going to stand a curtain lecture! There now! I'll wait until
she's asleep."

Saying which, he drew a cigar and match-box from his pocket, and
lighting the former, placed it between his lips, and moved leisurely
down the street.

The meeting with Wilkinson has already been described.

Scarcely less startled was Ellis at the sudden apparition of Mrs.
Wilkinson than her husband had been. He remained only a few moments
after they retired. Then he turned his steps again homeward, with a
clearer head and heavier heart than when he refused to enter, in fear
of what he called a "curtain lecture."

Many painful thoughts flitted through his mind as he moved along with a
quick pace.

"I wish Cara understood me better, or that I had more patience with
her," he said to himself. "This getting angry with her, and going off
to drinking parties and taverns is a bad remedy for the evil, I will
confess. It is wrong in me, I know. Very wrong. But I can't bear to be
snapped, and snubbed up, and lectured in season and out of season. I'm
only flesh and blood. Oh dear! I'm afraid evil will come of it in the
e