"Full three hours. All have retired and are sleeping. Ah, my
husband! I do not like this new direction your thoughts are taking.
To me, there is in it a prophecy of evil to us all."

"A mere superstitious impression, Agnes dear: nothing more, you may
depend upon it. I am in the vigour of manhood. My mind is yet clear,
strong, and suggestive--and my reason, I hope, more closely
discriminating, as every man's should be with each added year of his
life. Shall I let all these powers slumber in disgraceful
inactivity! No, Agnes, it cannot, must not be."

Mr. Markland spoke with a fervid enthusiasm, that silenced his
wife--confusing her thoughts, but in no way inspiring her with
confidence. Hitherto, he had felt desirous of concealing from her
the fact that he was really entering into new business
responsibilities; but now, in his confident anticipations of
success, he divulged a portion of the enlarged range of operations
in which he was to be an active co-worker.

"We have enough, Edward," was the almost mournfully-uttered reply of
Mrs. Markland--"why, then, involve yourself in business cares? Large
transactions like those bring anxious days and wakeful nights. They
are connected with trouble, fatigue, disappointment, and, Edward!
_sometimes ruin_!"

Very impressively were the last words spoken; but Mr. Markland
answered almost lightly--

"None of your imagined drawbacks have any terror for me, Agnes. As
for the ruin, I shall take good care not to invite that by any large