was growing so careworn of aspect.

"Nothing, my dear, nothing."

"But there is something, Judson, and as your wife I demand to know what it
is. Perhaps I can help you."

And then Mr. Terwilliger broke down, and told the whole story to Mrs.
Terwilliger, omitting no detail, stopping only to bring that worthy lady
to on the half-dozen or more occasions when her emotions were too strong
for her nerves, causing her to swoon. When he had quite done, she looked
him reproachfully in the eye, and said that if he had told her the truth
instead of deceiving her on the night of the spectral visitation, he might
have been spared all his trouble.

"For you know, Judson," she said, "I have made a study of the art of
acquiring titles. Since I read the story of the girl who started in life
as an innkeeper's daughter and died a duchess, by Elizabeth Harley Hicks,
of Salem, and realized how one might be lowly born and yet rise to lofty
heights, it has been my dearest wish that my girls might become
noblewomen, and at times, Judson, I have even hoped that you might yet
become a duke."

"Great Scott!" ejaculated Terwilliger. "That would be awful. Hankinson,
Duke of Terwilliger! Why, Molly, I'd never be able to hold up my head in
shoe circles with a name on me like that."

[Illustration]

"Is there nothing in the world but shoes, Judson?" asked his wife,