which he had just emerged, and, sitting down, covered his face with
his hands, and endeavoured to collect his thoughts.

"Has she deserted me?" he asked of himself in an audible husky
whisper.

His heart grew faint in the pause that followed. As the idea of
desertion became more and more distinct, Mr. Lane commenced
searching about in order to see whether his wife had not left some
communication for him, in which her purpose was declared. But he
found none. She had departed without leaving a sign. The night that
followed was a sleepless one to Lane. His mind was agitated by many
conflicting emotions. For hours, on the next day, he remained at
home, in the expectation of seeing or hearing from Amanda. But no
word came. Where had she gone? That was the next question. If he
must go in search of hers in what direction should he turn his
steps? She had no relations in the city, and with those who resided
at a distance she had cultivated no intimacy.

The whole day was passed in a state of irresolution. To make the
fact known was to expose a family difficulty that concerned only
himself and wife; and give room for idle gossip and gross
detraction. Bad as the case was, the public would make it appear a
great deal worse than the reality. In the hope of avoiding this, he
concealed the sad affair for the entire day, looking, in each
recurring hour, for the return of his repentant wife. But he looked
in vain. Night came gloomily down, and she was still absent.

He was sitting, about eight o'clock in the evening, undetermined yet
what to do, when a gentleman with whom he was but slightly