"What is the matter with you this evening, dear? Are you not well?" inquired Mrs. Levering, breaking in upon the thoughtful mood of her husband, as he sat in unwonted silence.
"I'm perfectly well," he replied, rousing himself, and forcing a smile.
"You look sober."
"Do I?" Another forced smile.
"Something troubles you, I'm afraid."
"O no; it's all in your imagination."
"Are you sick, papa?" now asks a bright little fellow, clambering upon his knee.
"Why no, love, I'm not sick. Why do you think so?"
"Because you don't play horses with me."
"Oh dear! Is that the ground of your suspicion?" replied the father, laughing. "Come! we'll soon scatter them to the winds."