began to feel that the dull evenings at
home contrasted very unpleasantly with the
jolly nights at the club. As he and the host of
the King's Arms grew more intimate, they
were apt to console themselves with a few
extra meetings. Sometimes Hammond made
an excuse to go into the town, and sometimes
Jackson came to him ; but in the latter case
Hannah gave her husband's visitor an
indifferent welcome. Jackson seems to have kept
his wife in better order; she had already
discovered that drink is stronger than love.
At first, Hammond yielded occasionally, either
to frowns or persuasion ; but as one ascendancy
grew, the other declined ; and when he
was not strong enough to brave his wife's
wrath or entreaties, he eluded them, by
slipping out when she was off her guard. Once
away, he seldom reappeared until the next
morning ; and, as time advanced, two or three
days would elapse before his return. Then,
when he came, she scolded, and wept ; but men
get used to women's tears ; and, like petrifying
waters, they only harden their hearts as they
fall.

So passed a few years ; and the girl and
boy were no longer children. Esther was a
fine young woman of seventeen, and her
brother eighteen months older. They had
been some time away from the school, and
George had been taken home to be instructed
to follow his father's business, which had been
the parents' original intention, when Hannah's
mind was altered. She thought it was a calling
that exposed a weak will to temptation,
and she dreaded lest her son should get too
familiar with his father's habits and associates;
so, with Hammond's consent, she procured
him a situation in a merchant's counting-
house; where, being steady and intelligent, he
had every prospect of doing well.

She kept Esther at home to be her own
assistant and consolation; for she needed
both. She attributed all her troubles to
Jackson, who had first enticed her husband to
drink, and had never since allowed him time to
be acted on by better influences. In proportion,
therefore, as she loved her husband, she
hated Jackson; and, in spite of all, she did
love George dearly still. It was true, he was
no longer Handsome George: his features
were bloated, his figure swollen, his hair thin
and grizzled, and his dress neglected and
dirty; but he was the chosen husband of her
youth; and, with Hannah, to love once was
to love always.

Jackson had a son, an excellent lad,
possessing all his father's good qualities, and
none of his bad ones. He and young George
had been at school together, and a friendship
had arisen between them that promised to be
enduring; the more so, that Esther
Hammond and Henry Jackson were lovers—a
secret, the discovery of which was at first
very ill received by Hannah. That her Esther
should marry the son of Jackson whom she
hated, was not to be thought of.

"There's little reason to fear that Harry
will take after his father, mother," George
would say. "Besides, you 'd think it hard if
anybody made me suffer for father; and, for
my part, I think it's enough to cure anybody
of a love of liquor, to see how it disguises
people who would be so different if they could
leave it alone."

It was some time before this kind of
argument prevailed with Hannah; but it had its
effect at length, sustained as it was by the
genuine merits of the candidate, by his evident
abhorrence of his father's vice, and by his dutiful
attentions to his mother. So, by-and-by,
he became a welcome visitor to Mrs.
Hammond and her daughter; and, all things
concurring, it was tacitly understood among
them, that some day or other, when they
were both old enough, and when Henry should
be in a situation to maintain a family, Esther
was to be his wife.

This arrangement—now that she was satisfied
of Harry Jackson's good character—shed
a gleam of comfort on Hannah's dark path;
for her path lay dark before her now. The
host of the King's Arms was never happy out
of Hammond's company; the truth being,
that the unfortunate man had grown really
fond of George. Hannah's frowns and
coldness could not keep him away; and if she,
by persuasion or stratagem, contrived to
detain her husband at home, Jackson
invariably came in search of him. Then, besides
all the other griefs and discomforts attending
such a state of things, the business of the
house began to decline. The respectable
townspeople did not like to frequent an inn
where the host was always intoxicated; and,
to many who had known them in happier
days, George Hammond's bloated face, and
Hannah's pinched features, were not pleasant
to behold. If matters went on at this rate,
pecuniary embarrassments were not unlikely
to be added to her other afflictions; and her
dread of this was materially increased by
finding that Hammond was beginning to
tamper with a small sum of money they had
placed in the Tutton Bank, under a mutual
agreement that it should remain there,
untouched, until Esther's marriage. All this
misery she owed to Jackson, even to the last
item in her troubles; for she discovered that
the money had been drawn out to lend to him.

Matters went on in this way from bad to
worse. Mrs. Hammond was miserable, and
Mrs. Jackson was breaking her heart, and
the business of both houses was going to the
dogs, when Hannah resolved on a last effort
to avert the impending ruin.

Had she thought her husband utterly
corrupted, her scheme would have been vain:
but he had moments of remorse still, in which
his good heart got the ascendant: and,
persuaded by her unshaken love, she believed
that if she could but wean him from Jackson's
company, he might, by her attachment and
vigilance, be reclaimed. It so happened that