looking forward cheerfully to the time when she should become a
mother, and the merry laughter of his children should, in his hours
of rest from worldly cares, gladden and enliven their home.

A year rolled by, and both Mr. and Mrs. Quintin looked hopefully
towards the future; two years passed and still they were childless.
Mrs. Quintin would have given all the world, had she possessed it,
for one of God's blessings; she loved children, even those of other
children, and _one of her own_ would have been a priceless treasure.
But she lamented more on her husband's account. She knew that he
doted on children; and when she saw him take the neighbours'
children on his knee, and, after looking wistfully in their faces,
rise and dash his hand across his eyes, she knew what it meant.
"Oh," she would cry, "if only these abandoned wretches who desert
their offspring could realize what it is to desire them and yet live
unblest! If they but knew the priceless treasures they were casting
from them, they would turn and repent in sackcloth and ashes."

Mr. and Mrs. Quintin had been married about three years when one day
the former called on me, his face beaming with joy, and informed me
that his fondest hopes were about to be realized, and that he would
like me to call and consult with his wife. I was a little surprised
at this intimation, as, from what I knew of Mrs. Quintin, I had
fully made up my mind that she would never become a patient of nine;
however, I was glad to hear that I had been mistaken, and so, when
next in the neighborhood I waited on that lady and congratulated her
on her improved prospects. To my great surprise she burst into tears,
and confessed that she was not _enceinte_, or likely ever to become
so; that her career in M----'s store, and continued standing for
hours together, had rendered her physically unable ever to become a