The little coolnesses and differences which are at first made up with kisses of cementing power grow more frequent and bitter. The endearing word is less frequently given. By and by the good-by kiss is forgotten when he leaves her, the salute of greeting omitted when he returns, and each heart grows harder and harder, bitterer and bitterer, until at last he thinks of her but to censure and condemn, she of him but to dislike and fear. And finally, as Byron writes, “Hating one another, wishing one another dead, they live respectably as man and wife.” Only the first act of this drama of life had as yet come to Mrs. Wylie, but the little imp of unrest had crept into her breast, and the quiet happiness of other days was no more. Horace Wylie spent less time at home than formerly, and when there buried himself in books and papers, and thus the little woman was left much to herself to seek pleasure and excitement where she could. The one thing which caused Mrs. Wylie more heart-ache than any other was her husband’s growing interest and adherence to the creed of Dr. Lyman. Although that subject was tabooed between them, she knew he regularly attended seances during the winter and no longer even asked her to accompany him. Mrs. Wylie was grievously disappointed in Mrs. Lucien and went less frequently to see her, for she knew her friend had been led into giving public seances, and as a writing medium and psychometrist was being much talked of in the city and sought after by a certain set, many of whom Mrs. Wylie felt she would not care to acknowledge as acquaintances, although they belonged to a psychical society or club of which Mr. Wylie was a member. This club had made much of Mrs. Lucien and brought her before the public. Hence, Mrs. Wylie, being left to her own resources, went more in society, was gayer, more extravagant and fashionable than ever, and little Robert was left more and more to the care of the remarkable Tibby. Tibby grew and waxed beautiful, and became more and more a fact and factor in Mr. Wylie’s household. She was no longer only nurse to the child, but companion and friend to Mrs. Wylie. It was Tibby’s fingers that brushed away the headache brought on by social dissipation. It was Tibby’s sympathy and advice that soothed away the little vexations that sometimes distressed her mistress. Mrs. Wylie would as soon have thought of giving up little Robert as this Tibby who had grown into her heart and love. Even Mr. Wylie was not insensible to the charm of her presence. He began to treat her more as a daughter of the house and indulge her in any whim or fanciful taste she might entertain. Truly, Tibby was in a fair way to become spoiled, according to his earlier theories; but Mr. Wylie seemed to have forgotten those early fears, and now helped in the spoiling. And thus, when Mr. Wylie’s business required his removal to the Pacific slope, Tibby went with this family of her adoption, secure in her present and future needs.