But these were unpleasant images, and Mr. Bain thrust them from his
mind.

While Mr. Bain took his morning walk to his store, his lungs freely
and pleasurably expanding in the pure, invigorating air, his wife,
to whose throbbing temples the anguish had returned, and whose
relaxed muscles had scarcely enough tension to support the weight of
her slender frame, slowly and painfully began the work of getting
her two oldest children ready for school. This done, the baby had to
be washed and dressed. It screamed during the whole operation, and
when, at last, it fell asleep upon her bosom, she was so completely
exhausted, that she had to lie down. Tears wet her pillow as she lay
with her babe upon her arm. He, to whom alone she had a right to
look for sympathy, for support, and for strength in her many trials,
did not appear to sympathize with her in the least. If she looked
sober from the pressure of pain, fatigue, or domestic trials, he
became impatient, and sometimes said, with cruel thoughtlessness,
that he was tired of clouds and rain, and would give the world for a
wife who could smile now and then. If, amid her many household cares
and duties, she happened to neglect some little matter that affected
his comfort, he failed not to express his annoyance, and not always
in carefully chosen words. No wonder that her woman's heart
melted--no wonder that hot tears were on her cheeks.

Mr. Bain had, as we have said, an excellent appetite; and he took
especial pleasure in its gratification. He liked his dinner
particularly, and his dinners were always good dinners. He went to
market himself. On his way to his store he passed through the
market, and his butcher sent home what he purchased.