who now felt an interest in all stories of
marriages.

"It happened a fortnight ago, soon after your wedding. They
quarrelled--she got through a window, and ran away home to her father.
It seems she had never cared a straw for her husband, but had married
him out of spite, liking some one else better all the time. His own
brother, too, they say."

"What a wicked--wicked thing!" cried Agatha warmly. So warmly, that she
did not see, close by her chair, her husband--watching her intently,
nay wildly. As she ceased, he rose from his stooping attitude. His
countenance became wonderfully beautiful, altogether glowing.

"Really you seem to have comprehended the matter at once," said Mr.
Thornycroft, startled in the winding-up of a long harangue about the
Corn Laws by the exceedingly bright look which his hearer turned towards
him.

"Yes, I think I shall soon comprehend everything," was the answer, as
Mr. Harper placed himself on the arm of his wife's chair in the gay
attitude of a very boy. She, moving a little, made room for him and
smiled. Nay, she even leant silently against his arm, which he had
thrown round the back of her chair.

"Come, Agatha, I want to hear about that wonderful house which your
friend is persuading you to take. You know, I happen to have a little
concern in the matter likewise. Have I not, Mr. Thornycroft?"

"Certainly; since you have turned out to be that no less wonderful
personage which my wife has been perpetually boring me about for the
last two years--Agatha's Husband," said Mr. Thornycroft, patiently
resigning the Corn Laws to their inevitable doom--oblivion.

But Emma, plunging gladly into her native element, discussed the whole
house from attic to kitchen. Mr. Harper listened with a complaisant and
amused look. Beginning to discern the sterling good there was in the
little woman, he passed over her harmless small-mindedness; knowing well
that in the wide-built mansion of human nature there must be always a
certain order of beings honourable, useful, and excellent in themselves,
to form the basement-story.

The twilight darkened while Emma talked, the faster perhaps that her
"James," whose respected presence always restrained her tongue, was
discovered to be undeniably asleep. But the young couple were excellent
listeners. Nathanael still sat balancing himself on the arm of his
wife's chair; his hand having dropped playfully among her curls. He
joined with gaiety in all the discussio