f the restraint which
each had borne with a certain restlessness that longed for a time of
freedom. On the very day that he left Irene showed so much that
seemed to her husband like perverseness of will that he was
seriously offended, and spoke an unguarded word that was as fire to
stubble--a word that was repented of as soon as spoken, but which
pride would not permit him to recall. It took nearly a week of
suffering to discipline the mind of Mr. Emerson to the point of
conciliation. On the part of Irene there was not the thought of
yielding. Her will, supported by pride, was as rigid as iron. Reason
had no power over her. She felt, rather than thought.

Thus far, both as lover and husband, in all their alienations,
Hartley had been the first to yield; and it was so now. He was
strong-willed and persistent; but cooler reason helped him back into
the right way, and he had, thus far, found it quicker than Irene.
Not that he suffered less or repented sooner. Irene's suffering was
far deeper, but she was blinder and more self-determined.

Again the sun of peace smiled down upon them, but, as before, on
something shorn of its strength or beauty.

"I will be more guarded," said Hartley to himself. "Knowing her
weakness, why should I not protect her against everything that
wounds her sensitive nature? Love concedes, is long suffering and
full of patience. I love Irene--words cannot tell how deeply. Then
why should I not, for her sake, bear and forbear? Why should I think
of myself and grow fretted because she does not yield as readily as
I could desire to my wishes?"

So Emerson talked with himself and resolved. But who does not know
the feebleness of resolution when opposed to temperament and
confirmed habits of mind? How weak is mere human strength! Alas! how
few, depending on that alone, are ever able to bear up steadily, for
any length of time, against the tide of passion!

Off his guard in less than twenty-four hours after resolving thus
with himself, the young husband spoke in captious disapproval of
something which Irene had done or proposed to do, and the
consequence was the assumption on her part of a cold, reserved and
dignified manner, which hurt and annoyed him beyond measure. Pride
led him to treat her in the same way; and so for days they met in
silence or formal courtesy, all the while suffering a degree of
wretchedness almost impossible to be endured, and all the while,
which was worst of all, writing o