circulates more freely as the fire of youth goes out and leaves the ashes
of mental and moral desolation. Ah no! the club-house is no conservator of
the purity of social life, and this Catherine Grant soon felt, as night
after night her husband left her to the society of her own thoughts, or her
favorite books, to meet old friends in its familiar saloons, and show them
that he at least was none the less "a good fellow" for being a married man!

It was all very well, no doubt, to be able to break away from the pleasant
parlor, and the interesting woman who was the presiding genius of his
household, and spend his evenings in the society of gay gallants who talked
of horses and Tedesco's figure, or the gray-headed votaries of the whist
table, who played the game as if the presidency depended upon "following
lead," and each trump was a diamond of inestimable worth, to be cherished
and reserved, and parted with only at the last extremity. Sometimes a
thought of comparison would arise, as he sat with elevated feet beside the
anthracite fire, and gazed steadfastly on his patent leathers. Sometimes
the idle jests and the heartless laughter would jar upon his ear; and the
cigar was suffered to die out as, in thoughts of wife and child, he forgot
to put it to his lips. But the injustice of his conduct, in thus depriving
them of his society, did not once cross his mind, until he was
involuntarily made the witness of a visit between Catherine and a lady who
had been her intimate friend before marriage.

He had returned hurriedly one morning in search of some papers left in his
own room, dignified by the name of study, though it must be confessed that
he passed but little time there. It communicated with Catherine's
apartment, which was just then occupied by the two ladies in confidential
chat.

"And so you won't go to Mrs Sawyer's to-night?" said Miss Lyons, who had