"Pooh! don't make a fuss—it's all right."
"Have you got it?'
"No; but I know where it is."
"Where?"
"In a place where it is quite safe—never fear!"
She understood him. He had pawned it, and the proceeds had gone where every shilling went.
Another day she missed the baby's coral with its golden bells. This time she said nothing; she knew too well what must have become of it, and she burst into tears as she thought of the fearful situation of a father robbing his own child to feed an infatuated passion!
One by one, every article upon which money could be raised had disappeared, until he possessed literally nothing more than the clothes he stood up in.
It was in vain she argued with herself that he, as the master, had a right to sell his own property, to sell anything and everything he pleased; she could not drive away the idea of there being something sneaking in this furtive disposal of his goods; an open sale might be necessitated, but this silent disappearance by stealth of article after article was horrible. She never knew what was gone until she wanted it; and at last her uneasiness became so great that she trembled to seek the most trifling thing.
Blanche's eyes were not shut to all the weakness of her husband's character, though her affection made her sophisticate with herself to an extraordinary extent. She saw the deplorable effects of his infatuation, and tried her best to wean him from it; but she always trusted that he would see the folly of the pursuit, and that, after a certain amount of experience, he would be cured. Meanwhile, that hope grew fainter and fainter, as time, instead of lessening, seemed to increase his passion.