ater value than he estimates them, and I feel that I am dealt by
unjustly."

Edith made no answer. The subject was repugnant to her feelings,
and she did not wish to prolong it. Claire already regretted its
introduction. So there was silence for nearly a minute.

When the conversation flowed on again, it embraced a different theme,
but had in it no warmth of feeling. Not since they had joined hands at
the altar, nearly two years before, had they passed so embarrassed and
really unhappy an evening as this. A tempting spirit had found its way
into their Paradise, burning with a fierce desire to mar its beauty.

CHAPTER II.

"Oh, what a dream I have had!" exclaimed Mrs. Claire, starting
suddenly from sleep, just as the light began to come in dimly through
the windows on the next morning; and, as she spoke, she caught hold of
her husband, and clung to him, frightened and trembling.

"Oh, such a dream!" she added, as her mind grew clearer, and she felt
better assured of the reality that existed. "I thought, love, that
we were sitting in our room, as we sit every evening--baby asleep, I
sewing, and you, as usual, reading aloud. How happy we were! happier,
it seemed, than we had ever been before. A sudden loud knock startled
us both. Then two men entered, one of whom drew a paper from his
pocket, declaring, as he did so, that you were arrested at the
instance of Mr. Jasper, who accused you with having robbed him of a
large amount of money."

"Why, Edith!" ejaculated Edward Claire, in a voice of painful
surprise. He, too, had been dreaming, and in his dream he had done
what his heart prompted him to do on the previous evening--to act
unfaithfully toward his employer.

"Oh, it was dreadful! dreadful!" continued Edith. "Rudely they seized
and bore you away. Then came the trial. Oh, I see it all as plainly
as if it had been real. You, my good, true, noble-hearted husband,
who had never wronged another, even in thought--you were accused
of robbery in the presence of hundreds, and positive witnesses were
brought forward to prove the terrible charge. All they alleged was
believed by those who heard. The judges pronounced you guilty, and
then sentenced you to a gloomy prison. They were bearing you off,
when, in my agony, I awoke. It was terrible, terrible! yet, thank God!
only a dream, a fearful dream!"

Claire drew his arms around his young wife, and clasped her with a
straining embrace to his bosom. He made no answ