"Speak, now, I'm all attention." "Well, you see, Jack," and Ellis leaned over towards Wilkinson familiarly, and rested his arm upon his knee. "You see, Jack, that huzzy of mine--if I must call the dear girl by such a name--is leading me the deuce of a life. Confound her pretty face! I love her, and would do almost any thing to please her; but she won't be pleased at any thing. She combs my head for me as regularly as the day comes." "Hush--hush! Don't talk so of Cara. Her temper may be a little uncertain, but that is her weakness. She is your wife, and you must bear with these things. It isn't manly in you to be vexed at every trifle." "Trifle! Humph! I'd like you to have a week of my experience. You wouldn't talk any more about trifles." "You should humour her a great deal, Harry. I am not so sure that you are not quite as much to blame for these differences and fallings out as she is." "I wasn't to blame to-night, I am sure. Didn't I bring home Prescott, thinking that she would be delighted to have me sit the evening with her and read so charming an author? But, at the very proposition, she flared up, and said she didn't want to hear my musty old histories. Humph! A nice way to make a man love his home. Better for her and me, too, I'm thinking, that she had listened to the history, and kept her husband by her side." "And for me, too," thought Wilkinson. "I should now, at least, be at home with my loving-hearted wife. Ah, me!" "Now, what am I to do, Jack--say? Give me your advice." "The first thing for you to do is to go home, and to go at once. Come!" And Wilkinson made another effort to rise; but the hand of Ellis bore him down. "Stay, stay!" he muttered, impatiently. "Now don't be in such a confounded hurry. Can't you talk with an old friend for a minute or so? Look here, I've been thinking--let me see--what was I going to say?" The mind of Ellis was growing more and more confused; nor was the head of Wilkinson so clear as when he entered the bar-room. The strong glass of brandy toddy was doing its work on both of them. "Let me see," went on Ellis, in a wandering way. "I was speaking of Cara--oh, yes, of Cara. Bless her heart, but confound her crooked temper! Now, what would you advise me to do, my old friend?" "Go home, I have said," replied Wilkinson. "And get my head combed with a three-legged stool? No, blast me if I do! I've stayed out this long just to make her sensible of her unkindness to one of the best of husbands--and I'm not going home until I am dead drunk. I guess that'll bring her to her bearings. Ha! Don't you think so, Jack?" "Good heavens!" was just at this instant exclaimed by one of the inmates of the bar-room, in a low, startled tone of voice. "Your wife, as I live!" fell from the lips of Ellis, whose face was turned towards the entrance of the bar-room.