He did not answer. The tenderly spoken good wishes of his wife fell
very gratefully, like refreshing dew, upon his heart; but he was
distinctly conscious of not being happy.
So far as worldly condition was concerned, Mr. Edgar had no cause of
mental depression. His business was prosperous under a careful
management, and every year he saw himself better off by a few thousand
dollars. Always, however, it must be told, the number fell short of
his expectations.
"There is something wrong." Mr. Edgar's thoughts were all running in
one direction. A startling truth seemed suddenly to be revealed to
him, and he felt inclined to look at it in all possible aspects. "Why
am I not happy?" That was urging the question home; but the answer was
not given.
After breakfast, Mr. Edgar left home and went to his store. As he
passed along the street, he saw at a window the face of a most lovely
child. Her beauty, that had in it something of heavenly innocence,
impressed him so deeply that he turned to gain a second look, and in
doing so his eyes saw on the door of the dwelling the name of Abraham
James. There was an instant revulsion of feeling; and for the first
time that morning Mr. Edgar remembered one of the causes of his
uncomfortable state of mind.
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