"Then you have other secrets. Where is all the great wealth you told me of. I never saw it. I have no proof that it exists."
She spoke very naturally, but he understood her drift, and knew, in the depths of his heart, that it was this secret which chained her in that loving position at his knee. Still, with his softened feelings, it was pleasant to have her there at any cost, so he played with the question as a good angler trifles with his fly on the surface of a lake.
"You have the best of all proof, Ellen—that of spending the money."
"Yes, I know; but what is that compared to the confidence of one's husband?"
He smiled almost pleasantly, leaned forward, and opening the book which had been closed from her inspection, pointed out a page with his finger.
"What—the Bible!" she exclaimed, astonished at the nature of his studies.
"Yes," he said, quietly. "I was reading the history of Sampson."
She looked at him a moment, and the blood mounted slowly to her forehead. He saw the flush, and turned away his eyes.
Not another word was spoken. She arose from her half kneeling posture, and he stood up.
"You will not trust me now," was her gentle leave-taking, "because you think I do not love you, but time will show how mistaken you are."