“Come, love! contradict me in everything I say, of course. There is one thing, however, too harassingly plain to be covered; it is _this_—your suite of private apartments is converted into a nursery, of which you have constituted yourself chief nurse. I have borne with this for five or six weeks, Hagar, and now it is growing insufferable, and I must have a change, _will_ have a change, love! So reconcile yourself to the temporary loss of these children as well as you can. They are to be sent away for _their own_ sakes as well as for yours. _They_ must have a stout, hearty nurse, and _you_ must be relieved of their care; you must get flesh and beauty again.” Oh, the immense power of resistance that was rising and throbbing as though it would break through Hagar’s chest! Yet she suppressed its violent outbreak; she wished now, above all things, to secure her place in her husband’s affections; she would have yielded anything on earth to his wishes now, except this; nor did she understand his apparent indifference to their children. With a sudden impulse she threw herself in his arms, and amid kisses and caresses implored him to spare her the anguish of this trial. Smilingly he returned her caresses, smilingly he refused her prayer, and smilingly withdrew himself from her clasp, and was sauntering away, leaving her pale and trembling, when again she recalled him with a gesture. He returned. “Where are you going now, Raymond?” “To charge Mrs. Collins with this same business of procuring a nursing-place for the children.” “Do not so misconceive me, Raymond; if I am now pale and weak, it is by a foretaste of all I know that I must suffer in opposing your wishes—for, Raymond, I _must_ oppose them—I have no choice; none! I cannot put these children from my bosom—_can_ not; you must know it.” “We shall see, love!” said he, with a beautiful, but mocking smile, as he left her side. “Ah, I know your power of torturing me, Raymond—know it too well—but I must brace myself to bear it in this instance.” Half an hour after she met him at breakfast. He wore his usual air of elegant ease. He did not resume the conversation of the dressing-room, and when he saw that _she_ was about to speak of the subject, he arrested her by saying, emphatically, “Hagar, love, I will not have one word of controversy with you upon _this_ or any other subject—I dislike conflict. You either will or will not comply with my wishes; without being subjected to any action in the matter yourself you will, in the course of the week, have an opportunity of submitting to, or rebelling against, my will in this matter.” And Hagar was silenced. A few days passed, with no perceptible change in Raymond’s manner, and the subject was not again mentioned between them. Hagar’s secret uneasiness was perpetually betraying itself, and its expression continually repressed by the will of Raymond.