"What do I care! Let them think what they please. Am I to regulate the affairs of my household by what a neighbor may happen to think, hey? The fact is, my dear Sarah—you must excuse me, I don't want to hurt your feelings—but, the fact is, you ought to have had the child put to bed three hours ago."
"Three hours ago!"
"Yes, three hours ago; and that would have prevented all this trouble."
Not a word from the young, patient wife; but she turned away hurriedly, and there was a twinkle, as of a rain-drop, falling through the lamplight.
A dead silence followed. After a few more turns, the husband stopped, and, with something of self-reproach in his tone, said—
"I take it for granted there is nothing the matter with the boy?"
No answer.
"Have you any idea what made him cry so terribly? Teething, perhaps."
No answer.
"Or the colic. You do not answer me, Sarah. It cannot be that you have allowed that girl to put him to bed, if there is anything the matter with him, poor little fellow!"