CHAPTER XXXII.
“I met Howard Deane a few nights since. He appears to be sadly out of health and somewhat consumptive,” remarked Mr. Wyman to his wife, a few evenings subsequent to Mrs. Dalton's departure.
“And the reason is quite apparent. He lives too closely in one atmosphere. He needs a change of surroundings, mental and physical.”
“No one of our course of thinking can fail to perceive that the long, uninterrupted companionship of his wife, she being naturally weaker than himself, has so drawn upon his magnetism, that his vitality has become thoroughly exhausted,” remarked Hugh.
“I do not doubt that it is so. His nature is large and social, and he requires a circle of varied minds to keep him in a good, healthy condition of body and spirit, as we all do; for though they may be those who can unite with one alone, and lose nothing by such exclusiveness, yet generally, the larger the orbit of life, the better the results that accrue to both, and the greater the development of each.
“You are right; yet how closely we have lived together, Arline, since we were married.”
“Because we both had large experiences and had mingled in many spheres, previous to our union.”
“Right again; ever right,” and he gazed on her with tenderest emotion, while she wondered if the time would ever come when she should not hold him as she then did. The thought made her tremble, so deeply did she love this man who supplied her nature so richly every day with that element of manliness which all women need, but so few receive.
“I will invite Howard here to spend an evening,” said her husband, little knowing how tenderly the heart of his wife was going out to him, at that moment.
The next evening Mr. Deane came with Hugh to tea. Mrs. Wyman was surprised to see how pale and care-worn he appeared, and longed to reach his mind, that she might give him that life which he so much needed.