The Two Wives | Page 6

the passage, and, pausing at the bottom of the
stairs leading to the room above, called several times--
"Anna! Anna! Anna!"
But no answer came. The domestic thus summoned had fallen into her
first sound sleep, and the voice did not penetrate her ears.
"Anna!" once more called Mrs. Wilkinson.
There was no response, but the reverberation of her own voice returned
upon the oppressive silence. She now hurried back to her sick child,
whose low, troubled moaning had not been hushed for a moment.
There was no apparent change. Ella lay with her half-opened eyes,
showing, by the white line, that the balls were turned up unnaturally;
with her crimsoned cheeks, and with the nervous motions of her lips
and slight twitchings of her hands, at first noticed with anxiety and
alarm.
Mrs. Wilkinson was but little familiar with sickness in children; and
knew not the signs of real danger--or, rather, what unusual signs such
as those now apparent in Ella really indicated. But she was sufficiently
alarmed, and stood over the child, with her eyes fixed eagerly upon her.
Again she tried to arouse her from so strange and unnatural a state, but

with as little effect as at first.
"Oh, my husband!" she at length exclaimed, clasping her hands
together, and glancing upward, with tearful eyes, "why are you away
from me now? Oh, why did you break your promise to return hours and
hours ago?"
Then covering her face with her hands, she sobbed and wept, until,
startled by a sharp, unnatural cry from the lips of Ella, her attention was
once more fixed upon her suffering child.
CHAPTER III.

"Now, what will you take?" said Henry Ellis, as he entered, with the
weak and yielding Wilkinson, the bar-room of Parker's tavern.
"Any thing you choose to call for," replied Wilkinson, whose mind was
turning homeward, and who wished to be there. "In fact, I don't really
want any thing. Call for two glasses of cold water. These will leave our
heads clear."
"Water! Ha! ha! That is a good one, Bill"--and Ellis spoke to the
bar-tender--"Mix us a couple of stiff brandy toddies."
The bar-tender nodded and smiled his acceptance of the order, and the
two men retired to a table that stood in a remote part of the room, at
which they were soon served with the liquor.
"Bill mixes the best brandy toddy I ever tasted. He knows his
business," said Ellis, as he put the glass to his lips. "Isn't it fine?"
"It is very good," replied Wilkinson, as he sipped the tempting mixture.
But his thoughts were turning homeward, and he scarcely perceived the
taste of what he drank. Suddenly, he pushed the glass from him, and,
making a motion to rise from the table, said--

"Indeed, Ellis, I must go home. My child is sick, and Mary will be
distressed at my absence. Come around to my store, to-morrow, and we
will talk this matter over. Neither you nor I are now in a fit state to
discuss so grave a matter.
" Sit down, will you!"
This was the reply of Ellis, as he caught quickly the arm of his friend,
and almost forced him, by main strength, to resume his seat.
"There, now," he added, as Wilkinson resumed his seat. "Never put off
until to-morrow what can as well be done to-day. That is my motto. I
want to talk with you about Cara, and no time is so good as the
present."
"Well, well," returned Wilkinson, impatiently. "What do you want to
say? Speak quickly, and to the point."
"Just what I'm going to do. But, first, I must see the bottom of my
tumbler. There, now; come, you must do the same. Drink to good old
times, and eternal friendship--drink, my fast and faithful friend!"
The warmth of the room and the quick effects of a strong glass of
brandy toddy were making rapid advances on Ellis's partial state of
inebriety.
Wilkinson emptied his glass, and then said--
"Speak, now, I'm all attention."
"Well, you see, Jack," and Ellis leaned over towards Wilkinson
familiarly, and rested his arm upon his knee. You see, Jack, that huzzy
of mine--if I must call the dear girl by such a name--is leading me the
deuce of a life. Confound her pretty face! I love her, and would do
almost any thing to please her; but she won't be pleased at any thing.
She combs my head for me as regularly as the day comes."
"Hush--hush! Don't talk so of Cara. Her temper may be a little

uncertain, but that is her weakness. She is your wife, and you must bear
with these things. It isn't manly in you to be vexed at every trifle."
Trifle! Humph! I'd like you to have