The doctor’s reflections, as he rode back to Boston, were not of the most enviable nature; and who can wonder if he _was_ rather testy towards his wife, who retorted so angrily as to bring on quite a sharp quarrel, which was prevented from being heard by the roar of the machinery; and if at _Meadow Brook_ he _did_ think again of Rosa Lee, half fancying that 5,000 divided by 13, if shared with _her_, might be preferable to _nothing_ divided by _nothing_, shared with Dell; who can blame him? Not _I_, most certainly. Wasn’t he terribly disappointed? Hadn’t he just lost $15,000, to say nothing of a patient, whose patronage would have insured him a living for at least a year, besides introducing him into a broader field of practice; and if the cameo earrings _were_ rather becoming to the dark hair and black eyes of his wife, did that in any way compensate him for the fifty dollars which stood on the Cr. side of his bank-book? Still, I see no good reason why, after their arrival home at a late hour of the night, they should sit up for more than an hour in a cold, cheerless room, telling each other—the one that she wished she had never married him, for “he alone stood in the way of her inheritance;” while the other replied, that “but for her extravagance he should now have had $1,500 in the bank instead of five hundred.” Wretched couple! Their history is like that of many others, who marry without a particle of love, or at most, only a passing fancy. Had Dell chosen, she could in time have won the affection of her husband, but being naturally selfish and exacting, she expected from him every attention; while in return she seldom gave him aught save cross looks and peevish words, complaining that he did not treat her now as he once had done. As long as the doctor had a fortune in expectancy, he bore his wife’s ill humor tolerably well, but now that hope was gone, his whole being seemed changed, and Dell was not often obliged to quarrel alone. At last, broken in spirits, and being really sick, she had sent for me, as I have before stated. I found her in bed, propped up on pillows, her shining hair combed back, and her large black eyes seeming blacker than ever, from contrast with her colorless cheek. All her old haughtiness was gone, and the moment she saw me she stretched her arms towards me, and bursting into tears, exclaimed, “Oh, Rose, I am _so_ glad you have come. I was afraid you wouldn’t, for I knew your aunt was very aristocratic, and I thought she might not be willing to have you visit poor, obscure people like us.”