But Claire answered not, though he was gaining some control over his feelings. "Oh, Edward! won't you speak to me? Won't you tell me all your troubles, all your heart? Am I not your wife, and do I not love you with a love no words can express? Am I not your best and closest friend? Would I not even lay down my life for your good? Dear Edward, what has caused this great emotion?" Thus urged, thus pleaded the tearful Edith. But there was no reply, though the strong tremor which had thrilled through the frame of Claire had subsided. He was still bowed forward, with his face hid on her bosom, while her arm was drawn lovingly around him. So they remained for a time longer. At length, the young man lifted himself up, and fixed his eyes upon her. His countenance was pale and sad, and bore traces of intense suffering. "My husband! my dear husband!" murmured Edith. "My wife! my good angel!" was the low, thrilling response; and Claire pressed his lips almost reverently upon the brow of his wife. "I have had a fearful dream, Edith!" said he; "a very fearful dream. Thank God, I am awake now." "A dream, Edward?" returned his wife, not fully comprehending him. "Yes, love, a dream; yet far too real. Surely, I dreamed, or was under some dire enchantment. But the spell is gone--gone, I trust, for ever." "What spell, love? Oh, speak to me a plainer language!" "I think, Edith," said the young man, after remaining thoughtfully silent for some time, "that I will try and get another place. I don't believe it is good for me to live with Leonard Jasper. Gold is the god he worships; and I find myself daily tempted to bend my knee in the same idolatry." "Edward!" A shadow had fallen on the face of Edith. "You look troubled at my words, Edith," resumed the young man; "yet what I say is true, too true. I wish it were not so. Ah! this passage through the world, hard and toilsome as it is, has many, many dangers." "If we put our trust in God, we need have no fear," said Edith, in a gentle yet earnest and penetrating voice, laying her hand lovingly on the hot forehead of her husband, and gazing into his eyes. "Nothing without can harm us. Our worst enemies are within." "Within?" "Yes, love; within our bosoms. Into our distrusts and unsatisfied desires they enter, and tempt us to evil." "True, true," said Claire, in an abstracted manner, and as if speaking to himself. "What more do we want to make us happy?" asked Edith, comprehending still more clearly her husband's state of mind. Claire sighed deeply, but made no answer. "More money could not do it," she added. "Money would procure us many comforts that we do not now possess," said the young man.