“Are you very ill, Mabel?”
“I feel far from well, and yet it does not seem to be from physical indisposition. It is something deeper.”
“True, my poor wife, we have become estranged; and what has caused it?”
She looked thoughtfully at him a moment, but no answer came from her lips.
“I think we had better part awhile. It will do us both good.”
She started, scarce expecting such a remark from him.
“Then my presence has, indeed, become irksome to you?” Her tone and manner implied more than she cared to display.
“You know better than that, Mabel; but I-we both are sadly out of harmony; perhaps have exhausted each other. Let us part, and each find ourselves. We shall be brighter and happier when we come together, Mabel; shall we not?” and he laid his hand tenderly on her head.
O, why cannot two at least see things in their true light? Why was it that she remained so blind to the real state of affairs? Either ignorance or wilfulness kept her from the light, and coldly bidding him good night, she left the room.
The next day was indeed gloomy. Mabel's parents had become acquainted, not with the facts, but with a distorted view of the case, and in their eyes she was a greatly abused woman. It was no longer any use for her husband to exert himself for their happiness, the poison of prejudice had entered their minds, and tinctured every thought.