The next day Clarissa thought William would come to her, knowing she was waking while he was there the night before, as she did not rebuke him nor send him away. This thought pleased her and she determined he should feel proud of his family when he came. Dinah marveled at the orders she received, but she said nothing, thinking her mistress ill and notional. She was too glad to have her mistress improved to care how much work she was called upon to do.

First, there was the baby and Augustus to wash and dress, with Clarissa directing and insisting upon their being arrayed with unusual care and elegance. This was no easy task, for mother and son did not always agree, especially about the baby. This over, Clarissa insisted upon having herself robed with great care, and having her room changed in several ways; finally all was arranged to her fancy, and Dinah drew a long sigh of relief. It had been a trying time to her.

Baby was asleep, and Dinah left mother and son talking; Augustus coaxing to go and see Merle. Clarissa was continually listening for William's footsteps, believing, with her usual faith in conquering conditions, he would come early to see her. She wanted him to find both children there. Few fathers had such beautiful children. He must be proud of them as she was; so she coaxed Augustus to remain, under one pretext or another, but there were no signs of William.

She grew restless and uneasy. Suddenly it dawned upon her that he expected her to ask him to come to her. He wanted to make her humble herself; her pride arose at once. She would not do it. Thinking it over, she grew restless and feverish—even anxious. Augustus kept plying her with questions. He wanted to go to see Merle; he would come home by the time baby sister would wake. Why could he not go?

Thinking it over, Clarissa thought "Here is a chance to reach William without really sending for him," so she said cheerfully:

"You may go ask your father if Merle is at home and disengaged to-day, also if he does not think baby sister ought to have some of James' choice flowers."

Before she could say more, Augustus was out of range of her voice. She lay thinking how she would greet William when he came in; she was sure he would bring the flowers as a peace offering to her. He had been rude and harsh to her; she would appear cold and distant to him to show that she resented his conduct, and she would tell him just what she thought of his mesmeric power. She was not afraid of him; he should see that. If she acted pleased to see him, he would think his power had influenced her, and that was not the impression she wanted him to have, so when she heard Augustus' chair coming, and the boy talking animatedly to his father, she quickly turned her back toward the door, and feigned arranging the baby more comfortably.

The chair soon stopped beside the bed, and Augustus said, "See, mamma, what father sent to sister. James did not want to cut them yet, but father said that nothing he owned was too good for her, and of course he owned them, so James had to do it. He said he was growing them to get a prize from the public exhibition, but father said sister's pleasure was more to him than any prize. Are they not beauties, mamma? This one is for you; he told me I could have it to give you. You are to wear it while we are gone, and think of me. Father is going to take Merle and me to see all the lovely pictures somewhere. I forget where. Then we are going to have dinner and go to the theatre. Won't that be jolly? He says I look very nice this morning. He wants me to kiss baby for him. Good bye, mamma."

Before she had time to remonstrate, he was gone. How deep was her disappointment, she was unwilling to admit, even to herself. She had been sure William would come with the flowers himself. He had sent the baby rare flowers and allowed Augustus to give her one (they were her favorite tube-roses, which James always kept in bloom). He had sent her nothing, and was going away to stay all day, seeking pleasure with Augustus and Merle, leaving her at home, ill in bed, without even a question as to how she had recovered from her indisposition of yesterday.

This thought produced anger that supplanted all the softness and tenderness she had so lately felt. She heard them go, and drew her baby to her with a sigh of injured pride. They were forgotten; she was ill, but he could go and enjoy himself.

She did William an injustice. He thought if he went to her without an invitation, she would consider it as an intrusion, after what she had said at their last interview. When Augustus came with his request to go to Merle, and said mamma asked him for flowers for sister, he thought he saw signs of Clarissa's forgiveness, and he would have given anything his money could have bought to prove to her how glad he was that she had sent to him for a favor.

He had not dared to leave the house after her threat to leave him, for, being there, she could not go;—even if it was necessary to use force. He would not be left again. He knew she would not leave without Augustus, so he thought to please her by making the boy happy therefore he had planned to give Augustus and Merle a holiday.

He knew if Clarissa had intended to see him or send for him, she would have sent her message by Augustus. He thought she would see his love in the selection of the flowers. He was disappointed not to have been called in when he went to the very door of her room with Augustus; she knew he was there, for he had purposely talked all along the passage. He was anxious to see how fully she had recovered from yesterday's illness, and was not satisfied to take Augustus' and Dinah's words concerning her health.

She might be taken suddenly ill again while he was gone, and die before he could be reached. Augustus was away now, if he had not come to him so quickly, she would have died.

These unpleasant thoughts began to haunt him about as soon as he closed the door of his house. He said nothing to Augustus, for the boy was all enthusiasm, but long before father and son had reached Mrs. Millard's, he had concluded to go back at once. He would run no risk.

Arriving at the Millard's, he pleasantly asked them to join Augustus in a day of recreation and pleasure, doing so in such a way he seemed to consider it a favor for them to care for Augustus, and entertain him. He planned out the programme, gave them the necessary money, and departed, telling them that he had business that should be attended to, but must first go home for something he had forgotten. He would send the carriage back.

Arriving home, he ran up the steps, he was so anxious to know that all was well. He met no one. Removing his street garments as quietly as possible, and hoping that he would not be heard, he ascended the stairway that led to Clarissa's room, looking for Dinah, whom he wished to tell he was at home, and would remain there; thus she was to call him if anything was wrong.

The door was open, but no Dinah was in sight. He hesitated then approached the door, trying to make no noise. He wanted to look in;—and did, undiscovered. Clarissa had been crying; that was easily seen. There was too much color in her face. Was it fever or nervousness? He was glad that he had come home. His gaze was so steady she looked up quickly and saw him just as he tried to dodge from her sight. She was so surprised she spoke before she thought.

"William!"

At the sound of his name, he stepped back into the room.

"Where is Augustus?"

"At Merle's."

"Why are you not with him? He said you were going with him."

"I did."

"What brought you back?"

"You want to know the exact truth?"

"Yes. Of course I do."

"You."

"Me?"

"Yes; I was afraid you might be ill again—"

"Probably you mean you wanted to work upon me again. Well, I am not afraid of you."

"What do you mean?"

"You need not get angry; it was you, and you alone, that almost killed baby and me."

"Clarissa, you do not know what you are saying. I make you sick!—Never. It was I who cured you."

"William, let us not get angry with each other, but try to find out the truth. Were you or were you not thinking of me when I was stricken yesterday?"

"I was."

"I knew it. I told you you made me ill."

"I deny it. I was thinking of anything but your being ill. I swear my only thought was you should send for me to come to you. I wanted to be with you. I was lonesome and desperate at the thought you would leave me again. I never thought of the baby. I am as blameless of the cause of her sickness as you."

"It was the sight of her that frightened me so."

"I do not wonder, Clarissa. I have tried and tried to account for her close resemblance to death, when she is physically such a perfect specimen of health. Try to do me justice. I am not so unnatural a man as to torture any person."

"You threatened to make me fear my children."

"I did no such thing. Only a vicious coward would do that. What a husband I must have been to you, when you suspect me of doing such things!"

"You did say so, William; that was what alarmed me."

"I say I did not. I said I could do it."

"I say you cannot."

"I shall never try. You are no more proud of the children than I, and you may be sure if they never suffer injury or injustice at any but their father's hands, they will have a pleasant life. Tell me why you were so angry, when I wanted to help Augustus. Can you not realize how I feel, when I know he is passing through life maimed for my sin? Is it not a duty I owe him to use every means in my power to assist him to walk? No person has ever been injured by my influence."

"Merle has."

"Merle? How?"

"You made him lie."

"That very experience brought me wisdom. I was jealous. I could not account for his sudden sickness upon seeing you. Can you not forgive me my indiscretions?"

"Knowing the cause;—yes. But has your gain in knowledge given Merle any more power? William, think well. Think well. The power you use, I am afraid of. Do not speak yet. Listen. You are a good man. Merle is a truthful boy. You made him tell a lie, and then believed it, placing the responsibility upon an innocent person. If a good man can make such a blunder, what great evil a bad man could do with it! Knowing what you do now, would you want Augustus or baby or me to be mesmerized, and subject to the thought of any man you know? Think what it means, William. Would you? Answer from the depth of your spirit."

The thought of the children did not so strongly impress him, but when he thought of Clarissa's being subject to the commands of any man he knew, he started as though he was stung by a wasp.

"No."

"What right then, have you to influence other men's wives and children?"

"None, I suppose. I had never thought of it that way. I honestly believed I was doing good. Help me to unravel this problem. You have shown me a picture I know is faulty, but I cannot detect the weak points. Alice has said, and you seemed proud enough of it, that I should be an illustrious exponent of science. I used to think it an infallible power; now I do not know what to think of it. If it is true that I have made my best subject lie, and almost killed my wife and babe—I who am considered an expert in practice,—you are right. I do not want to think of its force in the use of corrupt men. After all my study, and all my work, I admit I know nothing. I am discouraged."

"Come look at baby. She has just awoke. Is she not a treasure? You have not kissed her for days. Do you not want to?"

"Nor her mother either. Clarissa, what shall I do? I want to be just the man you respect and admire."

"Wait until I am well, William, then you shall explain to me the science of mesmeric control, and we will work together with Alice to find out those facts that you do not know. Somehow, I feel you are really stronger and wiser than you have ever been, though you do feel discouraged just now."

"Clarissa, you will not leave me?"

"No. I took you for better or worse, and I shall stand by the contract. I have been trying to think how you could help Augustus."

"How, dear?"

"By magnetic treatments the whole length of his spine and limbs. He is only weak there; not deformed. I was the same before he was born; but you will not mesmerize him, will you?"

"Never."

"Has she grown since you have seen her? She looks much as Augustus did at her age, Dinah and I think, so she must look like you."

* * * * *

Peace was restored, and a happier family would be hard to find than that of William Huskins. With his wife's help, he became a noted writer and exponent of mesmeric influence, reasoning from the effects or phenomena, back to the basic principles which produce them.

They worked together, and he told his friends she was the inspiring genius; he but the crude expresser. They both grew in character, making it a study how they should and might do for others, as they would wish their children done by.

Augustus, through his father's treatment, acquired sufficient strength in his limbs to forsake the wheel chair and crutches, as manhood approached, and was able to walk with a cane. He gave promise of being unusually talented in art and music. His parents sought in every manner to develop it.

Baby Clarissa was a mischievous child. James said she was the exact counterpart of her mother. The entire household set their happiness by her. The wonder is she was not spoiled and wilful, but, instead, she was winsome, and charming, doing her mischief in such a way it added, rather than detracted from her excellence.

Having passed through the fiery furnace of suffering, and coming forth grander and nobler for it, let us leave William and Clarissa with our best wishes that their children may represent them in worthiness of heart and character.