“Out of charity; that she might begin some employment--flax-growing, I think--to find food for the poor people. There the tale's ended, my Lady Inquisitive. Will you go down to my sisters?” “Not yet. I want to talk to you a little--a very little longer. May I?” And she drooped her head, blushing as the young will blush over the same charitable feeling which the old and hardened ostentatiously parade. Mr. Harper gazed hopelessly around, as if longing any means of escape and solitude. His wife saw him and was pained. “What--are you tired of me?” “No, no, dear, Only I am so busy--and have so many things to think about just now.” “Tell me some of them.” “What--tell you all my business mysteries,” he returned, playfully. “Didn't you say to me once, before we were married, that you hated secrets, and never could keep one in your life?” “It is true--quite true. I do hate them,” cried Agatha. “And for all your smiling, I know you are keeping back something from me now.” “Foolish little wife!” “Foolish--but still a wife. Look at me and tell the truth. Is there anything in your heart which I do not know?” “Yes, Agatha, several things.” The sudden change from jest to deep earnest startled the wife so much that she was struck dumb. “Circumstances may happen,” he continued, “which a husband cannot always tell to his wife, especially a man of my queer temper and lonely ways. I always knew that the woman I married would have much to bear from me. Did I not tell her so, poor little Agatha?” And he tried to take her hand. “You are talking in this way to soothe me, but I know well what you mean. No husband ever really thinks himself in fault, but his wife. Emma always said so.” Mr. Harper dropped the unwilling hand; but the next moment, by a strong effort, reclaimed it firmly. “Agatha, are we beginning again to be angry with one another? Is there never to be peace between us?” “Peace” only? Nothing closer, dearer? Yet what was it that, as Agatha looked at her husband, made her think even his “peace” better than any other's love? “Yes,” she murmured, after watching him long in silence--“yes, there shall be peace. Whatever I am, I know how good you are. And,” she added, gaily, “now let me unfold a plan of mine for proving how good we both are.” “What is it?” “I want some money--a good deal.” Mr. Harper turned away. “Wherefore?” “Cannot you guess? I thought you would at once--nay, that you would be the first to propose it. I am glad I am first. Now, do guess.” “I had rather not, if it is a serious matter. If otherwise, I am hardly quite merry enough for jests to-day. Tell me.” “It is a very simple thing, though it has cost me half-an-hour's puzzling. I never thought so much about business in all my life. Well,”--she hesitated. “Go on, Agatha.”