you will find him ready as before to yield to you. What he was not
ready to give under the force of a demand, love will prompt him
cheerfully to render."

"Oh! if Edward should never return!" Esther said, clasping her hands
together. She had scarcely heard the last sentence of her aunt.

"You need not fear on that account, my child," replied Mrs.
Carlisle, in a voice meant to inspire confidence. "Edward will no
doubt return. Few men act so rashly as to separate themselves at the
first misunderstanding, although, too often, the first quarrel is
but the prelude to others of a more violent kind, that end in
severing the most sacred of all bonds, or rendering the life that
might have been one of the purest felicity, an existence of misery.
When Edward comes home to-night, forget every thing but your own
error, and freely confess that. Then, all will be sunshine in a
moment, although the light will fall and sparkle upon dewy
tear-drops."

"I was mad to treat him so!" was Esther's response to this, as she
paced the floor, with uneasy step. "Oh! if he should never return."

Once possessed with the idea that he would not return, the poor wife
was in an agony of fear. No suggestion made by her aunt in the least
relieved her mind. One thought--one fear--absorbed every thing else.
Thus passed the evening, until ten o'clock came. From that time
Esther began to listen anxiously for her husband's return, but hour
after hour went by, and she was still a tearful watcher.

"I shall go mad if I sit here any longer!" murmured Huntley to