nce fell, and he sulkily went out without a word.

"Is anything wrong?" said the matron, putting away her book with the
unconcerned resignation of an experienced person who foresees a storm in
a teacup. "Where is Sidney?"

"Gone! Gone! Deserted me! I--" The young lady's utterance failed, and
she threw herself upon an ottoman, sobbing with passionate spite.

"Nonsense! I thought Sidney had more sense. There, Henrietta, don't be
silly. I suppose you have quarrelled."

"No! No!! No!!!" cried Henrietta, stamping on the carpet. "We had not a
word. I have not lost my temper since we were married, mamma; I solemnly
swear I have not. I will kill myself; there is no other way. There's a
curse on me. I am marked out to be miserable. He--"

"Tut, tut! What has happened, Henrietta? As you have been married now
nearly six weeks, you can hardly be surprised at a little tiff arising.
You are so excitable! You cannot expect the sky to be always cloudless.
Most likely you are to blame; for Sidney is far more reasonable than
you. Stop crying, and behave like a woman of sense, and I will go to
Sidney and make everything right."

"But he's gone, and I can't find out where. Oh, what shall I do?"

"What has happened?"

Henrietta writhed with impatience. Then, forcing herself to tell her
story, she answered:

"We arranged on Monday that I should spend two days with Aunt Judith
instead of going with him to Birmingham to that horrid Trade Congress.
We parted on the best of terms. He couldn't have been more affectionate.
I will kill myself; I don't care about anything or anybody. And when
I came back on Wednesday he was gone, and there was this letter." She
produced a letter, and wept more bitterly than before.

"Let me see it."

Henrietta hesitated, but her mother took the letter from her, sat down
near the window, and composed herself to read without the least regard
to her daughter's vehement distress. The letter ran thus:

"Monday night.

"My Dearest: I am off--surfeited with endearment--to live my own life
and do my own work. I could only have prepared you for this by coldness
or neglect, which are wholly impossible to me when the spell of your
presence is upon me. I find that I must fly if I am to save myself.

"I am afraid that I cannot give you satisfactory and intelligible
reasons for this step. You are a beautiful and luxurious creature: life
is to you full and complete only when it is a carnival of love. My case
is ju