ard the beating of the
other's heart, as thus they stood, silent, yet with troubled thoughts
and oppressed feelings.

A tear fell upon the hand of Wilkinson, and the warm touch, coming as
it did in that moment of intense excitement, caused a quick thrill to
pass through his nerves; and he started involuntarily. Words of
confession and promises for the future were on his tongue; but, their
utterance, just at that moment, seemed untimely, and he merely answered
the mute appeal of tears with a fervent, heart-warm kiss, that, if the
power of his will could have gone with it, would have filled the heart
of his wife with joy unspeakable. Scarcely had his lips touched hers,
ere she started up, and flung her arms around his neck, sobbing--

"Oh, my husband! My husband!"

If she had designed to say more, utterance failed, or was checked; for
she hid her face on his bosom, and wept like a heart-broken child.

How sincere was Wilkinson's repentance for past errors in that solemn
hour! and how fervent was the promise of future amendment!

"I were worse than an evil spirit, to lay grief upon that gentle heart,
or to make of those loving eyes a fountain of tears!"

Such was the mental ejaculation of Wilkinson, and he meant all that he
said.

"God bless you, dearest!" he murmured in her ear.--"God bless you, and
take this shadow quickly from your heart! Believe me, Mary, that no act
of mine will ever dim its bright surface again."

Mrs. Wilkinson slowly raised her pale, tear-moistened face, and fixed,
for a few moments, her eyes in those of her husband's. There was more
of confidence and hope in them than pages of written language could
express. Then her face was again hid on his bosom; while his arm
clasped her slender form with a more earnest pressure.

CHAPTER VI.

MORNING found little Ella, though much exhausted by the severe struggle
through which she had passed, so far restored that her parents ceased
to feel that anxiety with which for hours, as they hung over her, their
hearts had been painfully oppressed.

It could not but be that a shadow would rest on the gentle face of Mrs.
Wilkinson, as she met her husband at the breakfast table; for it was
impossible to obliterate the memory of such a night of trial and alarm
as the one through which she had just passed. And yet, with a strong
effort, she strove to appear cheerful, and when she spoke to her
husband, it was with a forced smile and a tone of tenderness