tinued my mother, looking rather keenly at me, "perhaps it would be better for your interests—and mine, for I am your mother, Elsie—that you should not do so. Live quietly for a few months more, and then—"
"I will not!" I cried, rising energetically from my seat. "I will not endure such a home, unless there be some very excellent reason why I should do so. I love my husband—I may as well tell you that; but when I see myself neglected in such a shameful way, through nothing that I have done, I will not submit blindly to it. Tell me what the cause of this trouble is, if you know, and I will try to remedy it. If I can do so, and can gain Arthur's love, no one will be happier than I. If I cannot, I will leave him, before the—the—whole affair k-kills me."
I burst into tears.
"You are unreasonably excited," said my mother, sternly, "or you would not dare to talk to me of leaving your husband. Why, girl, your position would be gone—and mine too. You talk of suffering through no fault of your own, but you seem extremely willing to let me suffer
