52 J. COLE.

evening I knew the mail was due, and I waited
anxiously for the last ring of the postman at
ten o’clock; but I was doomed to listen in
vain. There was the sharp, loud ring next
door, but not at ours; and I went to my room
earlier than the others, really to give way to
a few tears that I could not control.

I sat by my bedroom fire, thinking, and, I
am afraid, conjuring up all sorts of terrible
reasons for my dear husband’s silence, until I
must have fallen asleep, for I awoke chilly
and cramped from the uncomfortable posture
I had slept in. The fire was out, and the
house silent as the grave; not even a car-
riage passing to take up some late guest. I
looked at the clock, half-past three, and then
from my window. It was that “darkest hour
before dawn,’ and I hurried into bed, and
endeavored to sleep; but no, I was hopelessly
wide awake. No amount of counting, or men-
tal exercise on the subject of “sheep going
through a hedge,” had-any effect, and I found
myself lying awake, listening. Yes, I knew
that I was listening for something that I should
hear before long, but I did not know what.