The miserable woman, however, had no such thought; she would gladly have died,--not only to be free from suffering, but that her husband might be rid of her presence. In her inmost heart she despised his selfishness and want of feeling. She knew that a worthier man would have had consideration for her and patience with her, as her burden was surely the heavier; but she was too much afraid of her husband to put such thoughts in words, even to her own mind. Suffering that is incessant, and that undermines the physical frame, must gradually weaken the mind; and thus the only strength of the hapless wife consisted in hopeless endurance.
Professor Herbert entered in his new coat, and surveyed himself attentively in the large mirror.
"It fits well,--does it not?" he asked.
"Very well! but it is very expensive."
"Did the bill come with it?"
"Here it is."
"Oh, that is not so bad. Hecht is certainly the best tailor in the city."
A shade of bitter feeling passed across his wife's face and she could not refrain from saying, "When I recollect that you lately refused to let me have the shawl I so needed, that did not cost half so much, and----"
"The money for your dress all goes to the apothecary, my dear," Herbert replied, with a sneer.
"My dress!" his wife repeated,--"you would be ashamed to walk in the street with me,--my clothes are so shabby."