‘Oh! it is so hard--so hard,’ she sobbed, ‘to see him so unlike himself, and find no remedy on any side. I would--I would,’ she continued hysterically, ‘give my life to see him as he used to be. But it is in vain wishing for it--all in vain--in vain!’ Arthur sat down beside her again, and took her hand. ‘My dear Hannah,’ he said, ‘I feel sure that all the dear old man wants is a complete change. He has been brooding over these sad deaths of the Cramptons, and that, added to business matters being a great anxiety, and this confounded neuralgia driving him half crazy, has had a great effect upon his mind. But, if he went right away, it would work a miracle for him. Come, dear girl, think over my proposal a second time, and bring him to Switzerland, with Edie and me.’ ‘No, no, no; anything but that,’ said Hannah, shaking her head. ‘I will pray for him, and strive for him at home, but he must not go into society. Oh, Arthur, cease worrying me about it! I am so miserable--so miserable.’ ‘My poor sister, I can see you are. Well, as you say, we must trust him to God. Good-bye for the present. Edie shall give you proper notice of our next visit. But this isn’t as it used to be--eh, Hannah?’ ‘No; nothing is as it used to be,’ she responded, as she wished him farewell. As soon as her brother-in-law was out of sight and hearing, poor Hannah gave vent to her tears in right earnest. How was all this to end, she thought. What would become of her hapless husband if it went on much longer? His condition had already attracted public notice. The next thing would be that he was declared unfit to conduct his business, and their affairs would have to be handed over to the care of a stranger. She foresaw nothing in the future but misery for herself and her children. She saw no prospect of ever having her daughters to live at home, for every day strengthened her resolve not to bring them in contact with so depraved and uncertain a father. Nothing remained for her but a life of servitude and loneliness, while she pandered to a sin she abhorred for the sake of the children she loved. Even so innocent a pleasure as the society of her brother and sister-in-law was denied her. Henry’s conduct had estranged them. Little by little, she foresaw she would be called upon to relinquish everything that had made her existence pleasant to her. When her husband returned home and she communicated the fact of his brother’s proposed departure to him, he became as angry as if he had been doing everything in his power to make their stay in town agreeable. He called Arthur ungrateful, and Edith a fool, and wanted to know why they had ever returned to England if they intended to spend their furlough apart from the only relations they had in the world.