The Wife

by T.S. Arthur

"I am hopeless!" said the young man, in a voice that was painfullydesponding. "Utterly hopeless! Heaven knows I have tried hard to getemployment! But no one has need of my service. The pittance doledout by your father, and which comes with a sense of humiliation thatis absolutely heart-crushing, is scarcely sufficient to provide thismiserable abode, and keep hunger from our door. But for your sake, Iwould not touch a shilling of his money if I starved.""Hush, dear Edward!" returned the gentle girl, who had left father,mother, and a pleasant home, to share the lot of him she loved; andshe laid a finger on his lips, while she drew her arm around him."Agnes," said the young man, "I cannot endure this life much longer.The native independence of my character revolts at our presentcondition. Months have elapsed, and yet the ability I possess findsno employment. In this country every avenue is crowded."The room in which they were overlooked the sea."But there is another land, where, if what we hear be true, abilityfinds employment and talent a sure reward." And, as Agnes said this,in a voice of encouragement, she pointed from the window towards theexpansive waters that stretched far away towards the south and west."America!" The word was uttered in a quick, earnest voice."Yes.""Agnes, I thank you for this suggestion! Return to the pleasant homeyou left for one who cannot procure for you even the plainestcomforts of life, and I will cross the ocean to seek a betterfortune in that land of promise. The separation, painful to both,will not, I trust, be long.""Edward," replied the young wife with enthusiasm, as she drew herarm more tightly about his neck, "I will never leave thee norforsake thee! Where thou goest I will go, and where thou liest Iwill lie. Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God.""Would you forsake all," said Edward, in surprise, "and go far awaywith me into a strange land?""It will be no stranger to me than it will be to you, Edward.""No, no, Agnes! I will not think of that," said Edward Marvel, in apositive, voice. "If I go to that land of promise, it must first bealone.""Alone!" A shadow fell over the face of Agnes. "Alone! It cannot--itmust not be!""But think, Agnes. If I go alone, it will cost me but a small sum tolive until I find some business, which may not be for weeks, or evenmonths after I arrive in the New World.""What if you were to be sick?" The frame of Agnes slightly quiveredas she made this suggestion."We will not think of that.""I cannot help thinking of it, Edward. Therefore entreat me not toleave thee, nor to return from following after thee. Where thougoest, I will go."Marvel's countenance became more serious."Agnes," said the young man, after he had reflected for some time,"let us think no more about this. I cannot take you far away to thisstrange country. We will go back to London. Perhaps another trialthere may be more successful."After a feeble opposition on the part of Agnes, it was finallyagreed that Edward should go once more to London, while she made abrief visit to her parents. If he found employment, she was to joinhim immediately; if not successful, they were then to talk furtherof the journey to America.With painful reluctance, Agnes went back to her father's house, thedoor of which ever stood open to receive her; and she went backalone. The pride of her husband would not permit him to cross thethreshold of a dwelling where his presence was not a welcome one. Ineager suspense, she waited for a whole week ere a letter came fromEdward. The tone of this letter was as cheerful and as hopeful as itwas possible for the young man to write. But, as yet, he had foundno employment. A week elapsed before another came. It opened inthese words:--"MY DEAR, DEAR AGNES! Hopeless of doing anything here, I have turnedmy thoughts once more to the land of promise; and, when you receivethis, I will be on my journey thitherward. Brief, very brief, Itrust, will be our separation. The moment I obtain employment, Iwill send for you, and then our re-union will take place with afulness of delight such as we have not yet experienced."Long, tender, and hopeful was the letter; but it brought a burden ofgrief and heart-sickness to the tender young creature, who feltalmost as if she had been deserted by the one who was dear to her asher own life.Only a few days had Edward Marvel been at sea, when he becameseriously indisposed, and, for the remaining part of the voyage, wasso ill as to be unable to rise from his berth. He had embarked in apacket ship from Liverpool bound for New York, where he arrived, atthe expiration of five weeks. Then he was removed to the sick wardsof the hospital on Staten Island, and it was the opinion of thephysicians there that he would die."Have you friends in this country?" inquired a nurse who wasattending the young man. This question was asked on the day after hehad become an inmate of the hospital."None," was the feebly uttered reply."You are very ill," said the nurse.The sick man looked anxiously into the face of his attendant."You have friends in England?""Yes.""Have you any communication to make to them?"Marvel closed his eyes, and remained for some time silent."If you will get me a pen and some paper, I will write a few lines,"said he at length."I'm afraid you are too weak for the effort," replied the nurse."Let me try," was briefly answered.The attendant left the room."Is there any one in your part of the house named Marvel?" asked aphysician, meeting the nurse soon after she had left the sick man'sroom. "There's a young woman down in the office inquiring for aperson of that name.""Marvel--Marvel?" the nurse shook her head."Are you certain?" remarked the physician."I'm certain there is no one by that name for whom any here wouldmake inquiries. There's a young Englishman who came over in the lastpacket, whose name is something like that you mention. But he has nofriends in this country."The physician passed on without further remark.Soon after, the nurse returned to Marvel with the writing materialsfor which he had asked. She drew a table to the side of his bed, andsupported him as he leaned over and tried, with an unsteady hand, towrite."Have you a wife at home?" asked the nurse; her eyes had rested onthe first words he wrote."Yes," sighed the young man, as the pen dropped from his fingers,and he leaned back heavily, exhausted by even the slight effort hehad made."Your name is Marvel?""Yes.""A young woman was here just now inquiring if we had a patient bythat name.""By my name?" There was a slight indication of surprise."Yes."Marvel closed his eyes, and did not speak for some moments."Did you see her?" he asked at length, evincing some interest."Yes.""Did she find the one for whom she was seeking?""There is no person here, except yourself, whose name came near tothe one she mentioned. As you said you had no friends in thiscountry, we did not suppose that you were meant.""No, no." And the sick man shook his head slowly. "There is none toask for me. Did you say it was a young woman?" he inquired, soonafter. His mind dwelt on the occurrence."Yes. A young woman with a fair complexion and deep blue eyes."Marvel looked up quickly into the face of the attendant, while aflush came into his cheeks."She was a slender young girl, with light hair, and her face waspale, as from trouble.""Agnes! Agnes!" exclaimed Marvel, rising up. "But, no, no," headded, mournfully, sinking back again upon the bed; "that cannot be.I left her far away over the wide ocean.""Will you write?" said the nurse after some moments.The invalid, without unclosing his eyes, slowly shook his head. Alittle while the attendant lingered in his room, and then retired."Dear, dear Agnes!" murmured Edward Marvel, closing his eyes, andletting his thoughts go, swift-winged, across the billow sea. "ShallI never look on your sweet face again? Never feel your light armsabout my neck, or your breath warm on my cheek? Oh, that I had neverleft you! Heaven give thee strength to bear the trouble in store!"For many minutes he lay thus, alone, with his eyes closed, in sadself-communion. Then he heard the door open and close softly; but hedid not look up. His thoughts were far, far away. Light feetapproached quickly; but he scarcely heeded them. A form bent overhim; but his eyes remained shut, nor did he open them until warmlips were pressed against his own, and a low voice, thrillingthrough his whole being, said--"Edward!""Agnes!" was his quick response, while his arms were thrown eagerlyaround the neck of his wife, "Agnes! Agnes! Have I awakened from afearful dream?"Yes, it was indeed her of whom he had been thinking. The moment shereceived his letter, informing her that he had left for the UnitedStates, she resolved to follow him in the next steamer that sailed.This purpose she immediately avowed to her parents. At first, theywould not listen to her; but, finding that she would, most probably,elude their vigilance, and get away in spite of all efforts toprevent her, they deemed it more wise and prudent to provide herwith everything necessary for the voyage, and to place her in thecare of the captain of the steamship in which she was to go. In NewYork they had friends, to whom they gave her letters fullyexplanatory of her mission, and earnestly commending her to theircare and protection.Two weeks before the ship in which Edward Marvel sailed reached herdestination, Agnes was in New York. Before her departure, she hadsought, but in vain, to discover the name of the vessel in which herhusband had embarked. On arriving in the New World, she wastherefore uncertain whether he had preceded her in a steamer, or wasstill lingering on the way.The friends to whom Agnes brought letters received her with greatkindness, and gave her all the advice and assistance needed underthe circumstances. But two weeks went by without a word ofintelligence on the one subject that absorbed all her thoughts.Sadly was her health beginning to suffer. Sunken eyes and palecheeks attested the weight of suffering that was on her.One day it was announced that a Liverpool packet had arrived withthe ship fever on board, and that several of the passengers had beenremoved to the hospital.A thrill of fear went through the heart of the anxious wife. It wassoon ascertained that Marvel had been a passenger on board of thisvessel; but, from some cause, nothing in regard to him beyond thisfact could she learn. Against all persuasion, she started for thehospital, her heart oppressed with a fearful presentiment that hewas either dead or struggling in the grasp of a fatal malady. Onmaking inquiry at the hospital, she was told the one she sought wasnot there, and she was about returning to the city, when the truthreached her ears."Is he very ill?" she asked, struggling to compose herself."Yes, he is extremely ill," was the reply. "And it might not be wellfor you, under the circumstances, to see him at present.""Not well for his wife to see him?" returned Agnes. Tears sprung toher eyes at the thought of not being permitted to come near in hisextremity. "Do not say that. Oh, take me to him! I will save hislife.""You must be very calm," said the nurse; for it was with her she wastalking. "The least excitement may be fatal.""Oh, I will be calm and prudent." Yet, even while she spoke, herframe quivered with excitement.But she controlled herself when the moment of meeting came, and,though her unexpected appearance produced a shock, it was salutaryrather than injurious."My dear, dear Agnes!" said Edward Marvel, a month from this time,as they sat alone in the chamber of a pleasant house in New York, "Iowe you my life. But for your prompt resolution to follow me acrossthe sea, I would, in all probability, now be sleeping the sleep ofdeath. Oh, what would I not suffer for your sake!"As Marvel uttered the last sentence, a troubled expression flittedover his countenance. Agnes gazed tenderly into his face, andasked--"Why this look of doubt and anxiety?""Need I answer the question?" returned the young man. "It is, thusfar, no better with me than when we left our old home. Though healthis coming back through every fibre, and my heart is filled with aneager desire to relieve these kind friends of the burden of oursupport, yet no prospect opens."No cloud came stealing darkly over the face of the young wife. Thesunshine, so far from being dimmed, was brighter."Let not your heart be troubled," said she, with a beautiful smile."All will come out right.""Right, Agnes? It is not right for me thus to depend on strangers.""You need depend but a little while longer. I have already made warmfriends here, and, through them, secured for you employment. A goodplace awaits you so soon as strength to fill it comes back to yourweakened frame.""Angel!" exclaimed the young man, overcome with emotion at sounexpected a declaration."No, not an angel," calmly replied Agnes, "only a wife. And now,dear Edward," she added, "never again, in any extremity, think for amoment of meeting trials or enduring privations alone. Having takena wife, you cannot move safely on your journey unless she moves byyour side.""Angel! Yes, you are my good angel," repeated Edward."Call me what you will," said Agnes, with a sweet smile, as shebrushed, with her delicate hand, the hair from his temples; "but letme be your wife. I ask no better name, no higher station."

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