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. His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. But her husband, whose deportment to her was considerably changed since the fatal knot had been tied, paid no attention whatever to her grief. A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand. The doctor would naturally offer a hundred objections; he might seriously interfere; so he must be forestalled. “John,” she declared, “I must eat or die. She leaves town to-morrow. “Perhaps that is only sleeping,” he said. Ah Coom. Sheppard," cried the carpenter's wife bitterly; "and, I repeat, Bedlam's too good for her.
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