frequent and of longer duration. After one of these visits he returned
wearied and not at all like himself; care was on his brow, and his
manner betokened some great grief. I said:

"'John, dear, it is two weeks since you left me, and you promised to
return the same day. What is the matter? are you in trouble? You must
be, for your face has that pinched look which nothing but extreme
anxiety can produce. Confide in me.'

"'Nothing very serious, my dear child,' he replied, 'it will soon be
over; only a temporary embarrassment; some unlucky speculations.' Then
he gave me a kiss, smiled as he used to do, and said I was a baby.

"'Ah, John, your words buoy me up and make me feel almost happy
again.'

"'Let us speak of it no more, and when I have my business all in shape
again, I will never leave you, but remain here, where, if you cannot
see me every moment, you can hear me.'

"'Oh, that will be such joy for me. But do you know, John, that while
I have waited, and waited, to hear the splash of the oars as you
crossed from the shore, I have conjured up all sorts of things?
Sometimes I have thought that perhaps--'

"'Perhaps what?'

"'That the chains of Cupid had been woven around you during your first
absence, and that you might have returned to her who--'