"Well, I'll retrench somewhere. I think we are paying our servants too
high wages any how. Mrs. Shenflint gets twice as much work done for the
same money. I'll retrench, John Anderson, but I want you to remember
that I did not marry you empty handed."

"I don't think I shall be apt to forget it in a hurry while I have such
a gentle reminder at hand," he replied sarcastically.

"And I suppose you would not have married me if I had had no money."

"No, I would not," said John Anderson thoroughly exasperated, "and I
would have been a fool if I had."

These bitter words spoken in a heat of passion were calculated to work
disastrously in that sin darkened home.

For some time she had been suspecting that her money had been the chief
inducement which led him to seek her hand, and now her worse suspicions
were confirmed, and the last thread of confidence was severed.

"I should not have said it," said Anderson to himself, "but the woman is
so provoking and unreasonable. I suppose she will have a fit of sulks
for a month and never be done brooding over those foolish words"; and
Anderson sighed as if he were an ill used man. He had married for money,
and he had got what he bargained for; love, confidence, and mutual
esteem were not sought in the contract and these do not necessarily come
of themselves.

"Well, the best I can do is to give her what money she wants and be done
with it."