to the library, found him sitting there, and laid the case
before him.

He shared her fear that all was not right between the young couple, and
remarked that, unfortunately, Edward had too much of his grandfather's
sternness and disposition to domineer.

"I don't like to hear you depreciate yourself, papa," Elsie said. "Edward
may have that disposition without having got it from you. And I am sure
mamma would indignantly repel the insinuation that you were ever a
domineering husband."

"Perhaps so; my daughter was the safety-valve in my case. Well, daughter,
my advice is, wait till to-morrow at all events. I must say she doesn't
seem to me one of the kind to submit tamely to oppression. I did not like
her behavior last evening, and it may be that she needs the lesson her
husband seems to be giving her. He certainly has been affectionate enough
in the past to make it reasonable to suppose he is not abusing her now."

"Oh, I could never think he would do that!" exclaimed his mother, "and I
believe in my heart he would hurry home at once if he knew how she is
fretting over his absence."

It was near the dinner hour when Elsie returned from her drive, and
stealing on tiptoe into Zoe's bedroom she found her fast asleep. Her
eyelashes were still wet, and she looked flushed and feverish.

Elsie gazed at her in tender pity and some little anxiety; the face was so
young and child-like, and even in sleep wore a grieved expression that
touched the kind mother heart.

"Poor little orphan!" she sighed to herself, "she must feel very lonely
and forlorn in her husband's absence, especially if things have gone wrong
between them. How could I ever have borne a word or look of displeasure
from my husband! I hope she is not going to be ill."

"Is Zoe not coming down?" Mr. Dinsmore asked as the family gathered about
the dinner-table.

"I found her sleeping, papa, and thought it best not to wake her;" Elsie
answered. "I think she does not look quite well, and that sleep will do
her more good than anything else."

Zoe slept most of the afternoon, woke apparently more cheerful, and ate
with seeming enjoyment the delicate lunch presently brought her by Elsie's
orders; but she steadily declined to join the family at tea or in the
parlor.

She would much rather stay where she was for the rest of the day, she
said, as she felt dull and her head still ached a little.

Every one felt concerned about, and disposed to be as kind to her