scolded. The chief good of friends is that they do one of these three
things, and a wife should do all three."

"Which shall I do?" asked the Picture, smiling good-humoredly.

Stuart looked at the beautiful face and at the reclining figure of the
woman to whom he was to turn for sympathy for the rest of his life, and
felt a cold shiver of terror, that passed as quickly as it came. He
reached out his hand and placed it on the arm of the chair where his
wife's hand should have been, and patted the place kindly. He would shut
his eyes to everything but that she was good and sweet and his wife.
Whatever else she lacked that her beauty had covered up and hidden, and
the want of which had lain unsuspected in their previous formal
intercourse, could not be mended now. He would settle his step to hers,
and eliminate all those interests from his life which were not hers as
well. He had chosen a beautiful idol, and not a companion, for a wife.
He had tried to warm his hands at the fire of a diamond.

Stuart's eyes closed wearily as though to shut out the memories of the
past, or the foreknowledge of what the future was sure to be. His head
sank forward on his breast, and with his hand shading his eyes, he
looked beyond, through the dying fire, into the succeeding years.

* * * * *

The gay little French clock on the table sounded the hour of midnight
briskly, with a pert insistent clamor, and at the same instant a
boisterous and unruly knocking answered it from outside the library
door.