“If I were, I should not feel inclined to discuss the question with one who was a stranger to her,” said Ricardo, in a tone very unlike himself. “The confidences which pass between husband and wife should be sacred.” “I agree with you there, so let us say no more about it. You mooted the subject to me, or I should not have presumed to mention it again. But I think you sit too often. These researches, if carried to extremes, are apt to prove harmful to both mind and body. Come to the theatre with me this evening! It will divert you. I have a box for the Adelphi. Let us take Hannah with us. She is so much more lively lately, that I think it will interest her. She seems to be enjoying life, poor child, for the first time.” The Professor being agreeable, Steinberg’s plan was carried out, and Hannah thoroughly enjoyed her evening. The Doctor was not mistaken. The change in her was quite as palpable as that in her husband. Live as long as she might, she would never have a lissom figure, nor a beautiful face, but a kind of brightness had settled over her features, which much redeemed their homeliness, and her attempts at tidiness did not at all events deteriorate from them. She laughed and cried at all the right places throughout the melodrama and returned home in high good humour with both her friends. But what still more surprised Steinberg, as time went on, was to see the gross humility that had overpowered the girl, entirely disappear, to give place to a species of pride in her attainments as a medium--as if she had suddenly waked up to a consciousness of the value she was to Ricardo, and the difficulty he would find in replacing her, if she were gone. “I can’t sit to-day,” he overheard her say to the Professor, “so it’s no good your asking me! Can’t you see that I’m dead tired from sitting so long yesterday? Do you suppose that I don’t waste my strength, as well as yours, over these séances? And what is it all for?--so that you may see the woman you cared for, and talk love nonsense to her! I tell you, Professor, there ain’t many wives in this world who would do as much for their husbands. You treats me as if I had no feelings. I’m making a dress for Sundays, and haven’t been able to put a stitch in it all the week, so you must wait for your séance till I choose to give it you.” “Very well,” Steinberg heard Ricardo answer meekly, “never mind, my dear! I’ll go for a little walk instead.” As soon as he had left the house, Steinberg took Hannah to task for her treatment of him. “I am surprised to hear you speak like that to your husband, Hannah! Do you know what I should have done if you had been my wife?” “But I ain’t your wife,” replied Hannah, with a certain arch look that startled him--so little had he considered the girl capable of giving it with her usually dull, lack-lustre eyes.