"She did!"
"Yes; and directed the bill sent in to you?"
"What is the amount?"
"One hundred and sixty-eight dollars."
"Very well," said Ellis, controlling himself, "I will attend to it."
The man retired, leaving the mind of Ellis in a complete sea of agitation.
"If this be so," he muttered in a low, angry voice, "then is all over! To struggle against such odds is hopeless. But I cannot believe it. There is—there must be an error. The carpets are not mine. He has mistaken some other woman for my wife, and some other dwelling for mine. Yes, yes, it must be so. Cara would never dare to do this! But all doubt may be quickly settled."
And with, this last sentence on his lips, Ellis left his store, and walked with hurried steps homeward. Entering his house, he stood for a moment or two in one of the parlour doors. A single glance sufficed. Alas! it was but too true.
"Mad woman!" he exclaimed, in a low, bitter tone. "Mad woman! You have driven me over the precipice!"
Turning quickly away, he left the house—to return to his store?—Alas! no. With him the struggle was over. The manly spirit, that had, for nearly two weeks, battled so bravely with difficulty without and temptation within, yielded under this last assault. In less than an hour, all sense of pain was lost in the stupor of inebriation!