The Two Wives | Page 3

but with
most touching sweetness. It was the voice of his wife, and she sang the
air of the cradle-hymn with which he had been soothed to rest when he
lay an innocent babe in his mother's arms.
The feelings of Wilkinson, a good deal excited by the struggle between
affection and duty on the one side, and appetite and inclination on the
other, were touched and softened by the incident, and he was about
entering his house when the approaching form of a man, a short
distance in advance, caught his eye, and he paused until he came up.
"Elbridge! The very one I wished to see!" he exclaimed, in a low voice,
as he extended his hand and grasped that of his friend. "I've just been to
your house. Did you forget that I was to call around?"
"I didn't understand you to say, certainly, that you would call, or I
should have made it a point to be at home. But no matter. All in good
time. I'm on my way home now, and you will please return with me."
"I don't know about that," said Wilkinson, who could not forget his
promise to his wife. "I told Mary, when I went out, that I would only be
gone half an hour, and that time has expired already."
"Oh, never mind," returned the other, lightly. "She'll forgive you, I'll be
bound. Tell her that you came home, in all obedience to her wishes, but
that I met you at your own door, and carried you off in spite of
yourself."
And as Elbridge said this, he drew his arm within that of Wilkinson,
and the two men went chatting away.
Elbridge was fond of good wine, and always kept a few choice bottles
on hand. Wilkinson knew this; and, if he had looked narrowly into his
heart on the present occasion, he would have discovered that the wine
of his friend had for him a stronger attraction than his company.
As the latter had anticipated, wine and cigars were produced
immediately on their arrival at the house of Elbridge; and in the

exhilaration of the one and the fumes of the other, he soon forgot his
lonely, troubled wife and sick child at home.
A friend or two dropped in, in the course of half an hour; and then a
second bottle of wine was uncorked, and glasses refilled with its
sparkling contents.
The head of Wilkinson was not very strong. A single glass of wine
generally excited him, and two or three proved, always, more than he
could bear. It was so on this occasion; and when, at eleven o'clock, he
passed forth from the house of his friend, it was only by an effort that
he could walk steadily. The cool night air, as it breathed upon his
heated brow, partially sobered him, and his thoughts turned towards his
home. A sigh and the act of striking his hand upon his forehead marked
the effect of this transition of thought.
"Poor Mary! I didn't mean to stay away so late. I meant to return in half
an hour," he muttered, half aloud. "But this is always the way. I'm
afraid I've taken too much of Elbridge's wine; a little affects me. I
wonder if Mary will notice it; I wouldn't have her to do so for the world.
Poor child! it would frighten her to death. I rather think I'd better try to
walk off the effects of what I've been drinking. It's late, any how, and
fifteen or twenty minutes will make but little difference either way."
As Wilkinson said this, he turned down a cross street which he
happened to be passing at the moment, and moved along with a quicker
pace. Gradually the confusion of his thoughts subsided.
"I wish I had remained at home," he sighed, as the image of his wife
arose distinctly in his mind. "Poor Mary! I broke my word with her,
though I promised so faithfully. Oh, dear! this weakness on my part is
terrible. Why was I so anxious to see Elbridge? there was no real
engagement, and yet I told Mary there was. I would not have her know
of this deception for the world. I forgot about dear little Ella's being so
sick; what if we should lose that little angel? Oh! I could not bear it!"
Wilkinson stopped suddenly as this thought flashed over his mind. He
was soberer by far than when he left the house of Mr. Elbridge.

"I'll go home at once." He turned and began quickly retracing his steps.
And now he remembered the moving shadow on the wall, as he stood,
nearly three hours before, in front of his house, debating with himself
whether to enter or no. He heard