e dispelled by glimpses of bright hope. So
many are the disturbing influences, so subtle the causes which derange
experiment, where some infinitesimal excess or deficiency, some minute
accession of heat or cold, some chance adulteration in this or that
ingredient, can vitiate a whole course of inquiry, requiring the labor
of weeks to be all begun again, that the pursuit at length assumes many
of the features of a game, and a game only to be won by securing every
imaginable condition of success.

Perhaps this very character was what imparted to Layton's mind one
of the most stimulating of all interests; at all events, he addressed
himself to his task like one who, baffled and repulsed as he might be,
would still not acknowledge defeat. As well from the indefatigable
ardor he showed, as from the occasional bursts of boastful triumph in
anticipation of a great success in store, his poor ailing wife had
grown to fancy that his pursuit was something akin to those wonderful
researches after the elixir vitae, or the philosopher's stone. She knew
as little of his real object as of the means he employed to attain it,
but she could see the feverish eagerness that daily gained on him, mark
his long hours of intense thought, his days of labor, his nights of
wakefulness, and her fears were that these studies were undermining his
strength and breaking up his vigor.

It was, then, with a grateful joy at her heart she saw him invited to
the Rectory,--admitted once more to the world of his equals, and the
notice of society. She had waited hour by hour for his return home, and
it was already daybreak ere she heard him enter the cottage, and repair
to his own room. Who knows what deep and heartfelt anxieties were hers
as she sought her bed at last? What sorrowful forebodings might not have
oppressed her? What bitter tears have coursed along her worn cheeks? for
his step was short and impatient as he crossed the little hall, and the
heavy slam of his door, and the harsh grating of the lock, told that he
was ruffled and angry. The morning wore on heavily,--drearily to her, as
she watched and waited, and at last she crept noiselessly to the door,
and tapped at it gently.

"Who's there? Come in!" cried he, roughly.

"I came only to ask if you would not have your breakfast," said she,
timidly. "It is already near eleven o'clock."

[Illustration: 120]

"So late, Grace?" said he, with a more kindly accent, as he offered her
a seat. "I don