children. We have so many pleasures, ay, all of us. Husband, it is
not so hard to give up this one."

He said, in a whisper, low almost as a lover's, "I could give up
anything in the world but them and thee."

So, with a brief information to me at supper-time--"Uncle Phineas, did
you hear? we cannot go to Longfield,"--the renunciation was made, and
the subject ended. For this year, at least, our Arcadian dream was
over.

But John's troubled looks did not pass away. It seemed as if this
night his long toil had come to that crisis when the strongest man
breaks down--or trembles within a hair's breadth of breaking down;
conscious too, horribly conscious, that if so, himself will be the
least part of the universal ruin. His face was haggard, his movements
irritable and restless; he started nervously at every sound. Sometimes
even a hasty word, an uneasiness about trifles, showed how strong was
the effort he made at self-control. Ursula, usually by far the most
quick-tempered of the two, became to-night mild and patient. She
neither watched nor questioned him--wise woman as she was; she only sat
still, busying herself over her work, speaking now and then of little
things, lest he should notice her anxiety about him. He did at last.

"Nay, I am not ill, do not be afraid. Only my head aches so--let me
lay it here as the children do."

His wife made a place for it on her shoulder; there it rested--the poor
tired head, until gradually the hard and painful expression of the
features relaxed, and it became John's own natural face--as quiet as
any of the little faces on their pillows up-stairs, whence, doubtless,
slumber had long banished all anticipation of Longfield. At last he too
fell asleep.

Ursula held up her finger, that I might not stir. The clock in the
corner, and the soft sobbing of the flame on the hearth, were the only
sounds in the parlour. She sewed on quietly, to the end of her work;
then let it drop on her lap, and sat still. Her cheek leaned itself
softly against John's hair, and in her eyes, which seemed so intently
contemplating the little frock, I saw large bright tears gather--fall.
But her look was serene, nay, happy; as if she thought of these beloved
ones, husband and children--her very own--preserved to her in health
and peace,--ay, and in that which is better than either, the unity of
love. For that priceless blessing, for the comfort of being HIS
comfort, for the sweetness of bring