Very drearily passed the time with the bereaved wife. Her husband had promised to send home something for dinner, and various groceries; yet hour after hour went past, and nothing arrived. Morning flushed into noon, day faded to twilight, and still the well-known and always eager step sounded not upon the stairs! What could have detained him from his wife, shut up, imprisoned, as it were, in that hot, hurrying, stifling city? She feared to listen to the suggestions of her boding heart; and with feverish restlessness ran out upon the landing, and peered over the stairs every time a knock or ring was heard at the street-door. This strange behavior was, it seems, noticed by the landlady of the lodging-house, and injuriously interpreted. A knock came to the door, and that person entered to know at what time _Mrs_. ----, she had forgotten the young woman's name, expected the dinner, she, the landlady, had undertaken to cook. Esther timidly replied that her husband had promised to return in two or three hours at latest; and that she did not comprehend his continued absence--was indeed quite alarmed about it-- "Your husband!" said the woman, glancing insolently at Esther's figure. "Are you sure he _is_ your husband?" The hot blood suffused the temples of the indignant wife as she said, "This apartment, madam, I believe is mine?" "Oh, certainly, as long as you can pay for it;" and rudely slamming the door, the landlady departed. The long wretched night at last over, Esther rose with the light; and after giving her son his breakfast from the remains of that of the day before, set off with him to the place of business of the Messrs. Roberts. It was early, and one clerk only had as yet arrived at the office. He informed her that Mr. Henry Mason had not been seen, and that the partners were greatly annoyed about it, as his immediate presence was absolutely necessary.