Colonel Schuyler’s love and admiration for his wife had been steadily increasing ever since the morning when he first called her his own, and if there had been in his mind a lingering doubt as to the wisdom of his choice, it had been dispelled by the sight of her in her evening dress, sitting at his table, and performing her duties so gracefully and in a quiet, matter of course way, as if she had sat there all her life, with that array of silver, and cut glass, and flowers before her. How fair, and self-possessed, and ladylike she was, and how the pink coral and the soft lace trimmings of her gray dress became her, and how proud he was of her, as he watched her in the drawing-room, talking to his daughters and Miss Creighton, who, compared with her, lost fearfully in the balance of beauty, and grace, and culture. Usually in the olden days, when Emily trailed her silken robes over the costly carpets, or reclined in her easy-chair, or reposed upon the couch, he had found the atmosphere of the parlors a little tiresome, and had seized the earliest opportunity for stealing away to his private room. But now it was different, and only the knowing that his letters must be read had availed to take him from Edith’s side; and even while he sat reading them his thoughts were with her continually, and hurrying through them as soon as possible he joined her as we have seen. Pausing a moment in the door he looked admiringly at her as she stood in the deep window with her white dressing-gown falling in graceful folds around her, and her brown hair rippling over her shoulders. She was beautiful, and she was his, and he loved her, and fain would know if she was happy, so he asked her the question, “What do you think of your new home, and can you be happy in it with me?” “Yes, Howard, very happy;” and Edith’s hand stole into his, and her fair head drooped upon his shoulder as she continued: “It is a beautiful place, and I am glad you brought me to it, that when you came in just now and surprised me as you did, I was thanking God for it, and asking Him to make me worthy of it. Howard, do you ever pray?”