mind. The sense of misery and discouragement was paralyzing, and
he was fairly appalled by his lack of energy. And yet he felt his
need of power and resolution as keenly as he realized his feebleness.
He knew that he had appeared unnatural to his wife and children,
and that while they now ascribed his behavior to the long strain
he had been under, their loving and charitable blindness could not
last if he often exhibited before them such variable moods and
conditions. Therefore he felt that he must overcome the habit before
they were together permanently, for to permit them to discover his
vile weakness in this time of their great need would be a mortal
wound to his pride. All his manhood revolted at the bare thought.
Their trust, their love, their dependence and unrepining courage
in meeting poverty and privation with him imposed the strongest
and most sacred of obligations, and his high sense of honor--which
hitherto had been his religion--made failure to meet these
obligations the most awful disaster that could overwhelm him. The
means of escaping from his wretchedness and dejection--from the
horrible lassitude of body and soul--could be grasped in a moment,
and the temptation to use them and become within a few minutes
a strong, sanguine, courageous man was almost irresistible; but
he knew well that such an abrupt change from the heavy, dull-eyed
condition in which they had seen him at the breakfast table could
not fail to arouse suspicion; and should they once discern his
crime--for crime he now regarded it--he feared his self-respect
would be so destroyed that he would never have the pride and strength
for the struggle now clearly foreseen; therefore, with the instinct
of self-preservation, and from the impulse of all his native and
long-fostered Southern pride, he resolved that they must never know
his degradation. He must rally his shattered forces, spend the few
hours before his departure with his family in a way to lull all