Already during the few weeks of their wedded life, it had needed all the strength of his outbursts of demonstrative affection, all the bright contentment she felt at her release from schoolroom drudgery, to cloak the fact that they had not one taste, one sympathy in common; that their tempers were ill suited to each other, and the moral standard of the wife as different from that of the husband as light from darkness. This crime, which Harry had made light of, tore down the last shred of illusion from before the eyes of the wife of eighteen. She had made an awful mistake. Carried away by the passionate pleading of a headstrong boy at a time when she felt herself to be utterly friendless, and when his impulsive remorse had seemed to her to show a high and generous nature, she had bound herself by a tie which would last her life to an ignorant, uncouth, unprincipled lad who did not even love her. For already the sensitive woman felt that his caresses were growing careless; and she knew that no husband of a few weeks could have used the words Harry had used to-day to a woman for whom he cared deeply. Harry had gone out; and for three long hours Annie knelt on the floor by the bed pondering what she should do with her life, and praying for help to show her where her duty lay. She came to a resolution strangely wise for so young a woman; and, when her husband returned, she was as nearly her usual bright self as she could manage to be. Harry, of course, did not appreciate the struggle she had gone through before she could do this, but came to the conclusion that she saw how silly she had been to make such a fuss about a trifle which did not concern her, and thought it was time for him to show a little just indignation at finding his brother’s arm round her. But she stopped him with surprising promptness, as if his remarks were beneath argument. He began to bluster a little. “Do you really doubt the propriety of my conduct?” she asked, coldly. “Well, it is not a usual thing, is it, to find one’s wife--er--er--like that?” “Is it a usual thing for a wife to be requested by her husband to conceal the fact that she is married, especially from his relatives?” “Why, no, of course not! And it doesn’t matter now, you see, since I told my father all about it,” said Harry, trying to speak more good-humoredly, since he saw by the steady look of his wife’s eyes, as he had seen before in less serious discussions, that, if the argument went on he would get very much the worst of it. So the peace was kept between them, though the warmth of their feelings for each other was getting rapidly less. An incident happened a few days later, however, which revived it for a time. George’s promised proposal came, and Harry had scarcely read it before he was at his wife’s feet, pressing his lips to her very dress with all the enthusiasm of a few weeks back.