"I thought I had a right to go away, thinking it would make you happier, but now I know I hadn't, because I had promised myself to you for all my life." "No; neither of us has a right to forsake the other (we 'are no more twain but one flesh.

What, therefore, God hath joined together, let no man put asunder'); we are husband and wife for as long as we both shall live, and must dwell together in mutual love and forbearance.

We will exchange forgiveness, dearest, for we have both been to blame, and I forgive your attempt of to-night on condition that you promise me never, never to do such a thing again." "I promise," she said, "and," imploringly, "O Ned, won't you keep my secret?
I couldn't bear to have it known even in the family." "No more could I, love," he answered; "and oh, but I am thankful that you were caught by the door and so prevented from carrying out your purpose!" "So am I, and that it was my own dear husband, and not a burglar, as I feared, who found me there." "Ah, was that the cause of your fright ?" he asked, with a look of relief and pleasure.

"I thought it was your terror of your husband's wrath that caused your faint.

But, darling, you are looking weary and actually ill.
You must go to bed at once." "I'll obey you, this time and always," she answered, looking up fondly into his face.