"My dear, how can I do so? Does it not take all I earn to meet expenses? When accounts are settled at the end of the year, have we a shilling to spare?"
It was so, and Jane knew it; but her husband's health was above every consideration in the world. "We must reduce our expenses," she said. "We must cease to live as we are living now. We will move into a smaller house, and keep one servant, and I will turn maid-of-all-work."
She laughed quite merrily; but Mr. Halliburton detected a serious meaning in her tone. He shook his head.
"No, Jane; that time, I hope, will never come."
He lay awake all that night buried in reflection. Do you know what this night-reflection is, when it comes to us in all its racking intensity? Surging over his brain, like the wild waves that chase each other on the ocean, came the thought, "What will become of my wife and children if I die?" Thought after thought, they all resolved themselves into that one focus:—"I have made no provision for my wife and children: what will become of them if I am taken?"
Mr. Halliburton had one good habit—it was possible that he had learnt it from his wife, for it was hers in no ordinary degree—the habit of looking steadfastly into the face of trouble. Not to groan and grumble at it—to sigh and lament that no one else's trouble ever was so great before—but to see how it might best be met and contended with; how the best could be made of it.
The only feasible way he could see, was that of insuring his life. He possessed neither lands nor money. Did he attempt to put by a portion of his income, it would take years and years to accumulate into a sum worth mentioning. Why, how long would it take him to economise only a thousand pounds? No. There was only one way—that of life insurance. It was an idea that would have occurred to most of us. He did not know how much it would take from his yearly income to effect it. A great deal, he was afraid; for he was approaching what is called middle life.
He had no secrets from his wife. He consulted her upon every point; she was his best friend, his confidante, his gentle counsellor, and he had no intention of concealing the step he was about to take. Why should he?
"Jane," he began, when they were at breakfast the next morning, "do you know what I have been thinking of all night?"
"Trouble, I am sure," she answered. "You have been very restless."