"I have something of a headache, James," she said. "I think I had better retire early."
"I will not detain you long, my love," he answered.
Soon they were in the sitting-room and the lady dropped into an easy chair. He could not sit down, but began to walk up and down nervously.
"I hate very much to mention the matter to you, Sarah," he began, "but the fact is, a remittance from a man in Chicago who owes me quite some money has been delayed, and this has cut me short."
"Do you want money?"
"If you can spare it, I would like to have a hundred dollars or so until the remittance comes."
"Very well, you can have it in the morning," answered Mrs. Talbot quietly.
James Talbot had told her before they were married that he was fairly well-to-do, but since they had become man and wife she had not seen a dollar of his money.
It was true, he had a little money, or had had it, but the amount was less than a thousand dollars, and it was now tied up in a speculation that promised little or no return. James Talbot had no head for business, and even his wife was beginning to find that out. He could be miserly, but miserliness is not true economy. He pretended to deal in real estate, but he was too shiftless and lazy to apply himself to steady work.
"I will be all right as soon as the money comes," went on Talbot cheerfully. "After this I trust I shall never have to trouble you again."