"Not exactly trouble"—for he did not choose to acknowledge, even to himself, that a strange sense of trouble did seem to rest on his heart and to weigh it down. "I have been thinking more of precaution than trouble."
"Precaution?" echoed Jane, looking at him.
"Ay, love. And the astonishing part of the business, to myself, is that I never thought of the necessity for this precaution before."
Jane divined now what he meant. Often and often had the idea occurred to her—"Should my husband's health or life fail, we are destitute." Not for herself did she so much care, but for her children.
"That sudden attack last night has brought me reflection," he resumed. "Life is uncertain with the best of us. It may be no more uncertain with me than with others; but I feel that I must act as though it were so. Jane, were I taken, there would be no provision for you."
"No," she quietly said.
"And therefore I must set about making one without delay, as far as I can. I shall insure my life."
Jane did not answer immediately. "It will take a great deal of money, Edgar," she presently said.
"I fear it will: but it must be done. What's the matter, Jane? You don't look hopeful over it."
"Because, were you to insure your life, to pay the yearly premium, and our home expenses, would necessitate your working as hard as you do now."