For a few weeks these bright visions remained. Then his thoughts began to come down into the present, and to consider the real aspect of things around him. In regard to Clara’s fortune, all the knowledge he possessed was that obtained through common report. It was known that her father, while living, was in the enjoyment of a handsome property, and that this on his death had been divided equally among his children. As to the nature or value of his wife’s share, he was entirely ignorant; a certain feeling of delicacy kept him from seeking or even seeming to seek for information on the subject prior to marriage. In fact, he tried at times to persuade himself that the property of Clara had nothing whatever to do with his affection for her. The mind of Ellison being proud, sensitive and independent, this delicacy remained equally strong after marriage. He took his wife to a good boarding-house, where he had engaged a large, handsomely furnished room at the rate of twelve dollars a week, and here they commenced their matrimonial life. From a friend, a short time previous to marriage, Ellison had borrowed a couple of hundred dollars, and this gave him the means of meeting all the necessary expenses attendant on the important event, besides leaving him with seventy or eighty dollars in possession as a little fund to use until some portion of his wife’s income should begin to find its way into his hands. Two or three weeks passed, during which time Ellison went daily to paint and draw in his studio, though he did not work with his former earnestness. From some cause he found it impossible to bring his mind down to a present interest in his profession; that is, to an interest in what he was then engaged in doing. His mind was continually wandering away, and his fancy teeming with bright and beautiful images. He saw the pure blue skies of Italy; he felt the fragrant airs of the sunny clime breaking over his forehead; he was a worshiper among her galleries of immortal art; and more than all this, he was panting to be in the land of art and song, and felt his impatience to be away increasing every moment. And yet, his gentle, loving young wife, for whom a profound respect as well as affection had been awakened, said nothing of her property, nor had he permitted her to look deep enough into his mind to see his dream of Italy. He had carefully avoided this lest she should suspect the motive that first drew him to her side; a motive which, could he have done so, he would gladly have concealed even from himself.