ess to her. Indeed, she had not been so near
happiness (or so she told herself) since her wedding day.
Another child was coming. Hope, so often cut down, grew again in her
heart. And then--

One forenoon in the second week of June--a torrid, airless day--he
came home reeling. For the moment a black fear fell on her that she
would be too weak to wrestle with this attack; but she braced herself
to meet it.

The next day her uncle called. He was about to start on a
long-planned journey to Epworth, taking his man with him; and having
lately parted with his housekeeper, he had a proposal to make; that
Hetty should sleep at Johnson's Court and look after the house in his
absence.

She shook her head. Luckily her husband was out, drinking fiercely
at some tavern, as she very well knew; but anything was better than
his encountering Uncle Matthew just now.

"Why not?" the old man urged. "It would save my hiring a carekeeper,
and tide me over until I bring back Patty with me, as I hope to do.
Besides, after travelling in those wilds I shall want to return and
find the house cheerful: and I know I can depend on you for that."

"And I promise that you shall have it. Send me but word of your
coming, and all shall be ready for you that you require."

"But you will not take up your abode there?"

She shook her head again, still smiling: but the smile had lost
connection with her thoughts. She was listening for her husband's
unsteady step and praying God to detain it.

"But why not?" Uncle Matthew persisted. "It is not for lack of good
will, I know. Your husband can spare you for a few days: or for that
matter he might come with you and leave the house at night to young
Ritson." This was Mr. Wright's apprentice, the same that had fetched
him out of the "King's Oak "; an exemplary youth, who slept as a rule
in a garret at the top of the house.

"Tom Ritson is not lodging with us just now: we have found a room for
him two doors away." She had, indeed, packed off the youth at the
first sign of his master's returning madness: but, lest Uncle Matthew
should guess the true reason, she added, "Women in my state take
queer fancies--likes and dislikes."

The old man eyed her for a while, then asked abruptly, "Is your
husband drinking again?"

"How--what makes you--I don't understand," she stammered. Do what
she might she could not prevent the come-and-go of colour in her
face.

"Oh, yes you do. Tut, tut, my dear!