For the Term of His Natural Life

ing with which Sylvia had approached the last and most dreaded abiding place of the elaborate convict system, under which it had been her misfortune to live, had not decreased. The sights and sou

he was going, lest he should thrill her wit

when he recounted to her the scene of the gaol-gang. "These un

ot the courage. I'd take the best man

witness so much misery and villa

red. "Where is the charge-book? I've told you always to have it ready for me. Why don't you d

please

s finger down the leaves, he commented on the list of offences to

e and striking a light. W. Barnes, not in place at muster; says he was 'washing himself'-I'll wash him! John Richards, missing muster and insolence. John Gateby, insolence and insubordination. James

es

is doing credit t

do you

him. "Maurice, I wish you would not use such language. You know I dislike it." She spoke coldl

't bear to hear her husband sw

ou," said she, wearily. "Don't le

nstantly. "Ah! Mr. North, I did not expect you. What brings you here? You'll stay to dinner, of course." (She rang the bell without

to'. She seized the book with avidity, and, after running h

answer to her thought. "He seems to have been a great r

er read French novels,"

member a worthy friend of mine in Sydney who soundly abused me for reading 'Rabelais', and when I asked him

y good? Papa told

he sailor being taught in prison by the priest, and sent back into the

ed she; and then, with feminine per

arvel, and becoming rich-as Dr. Johnson says, 'beyond the drea

doe

n all his ene

his greatest enemy, and Dantès s

ad. "It seems interesting

h regretting what he had said. Mrs. Frere beat her foot on the floor, and at length, raising her eyes, and

gh he disliked the clergyman, yet was glad of anyb

ring Mrs. Fr

not a good thing to be always poring over print, is it, North?

jollity with which husbands of h

er disagree upon the subject of wifely duties? However, I shall read in spite of you. Do you know, Mr. North, that

, not understanding

is suavity at the sight of food. "I never have a shirt fit t

rred to him. "Le grand écueil est le ridicule," and his mind began to sou

ut to be weak to be an object of contempt; and his gross nature triumphed over the finer one of his wife. Love had long since died out of their life. The young, impulsive, delicate girl, who had given herself to him seven years before, had been changed into a weary, suffering woman. The wife is what her husband makes her, and his rude animalism had made her the nervous invalid she was. Instead of love, he had awakened in her a distaste which at times amounted to disgust. We have neither the skill nor the boldness of that profound philosopher whose autopsy of the human heart awoke North's contemplation, and we will

rendered him silent, instead of talkative. He drank that he might forget unpleasant memories, and drank without accomplishing his objec

the ease of possession, as one who should s

sic, and I'm not inclined to sing.

should it be more out of pl

er unsuited to these melancholy surroundi

piano, the ottomans, and the looking-glass. "Well, the house is

ce is very gloomy to me. The thought of the unhappy men wh

"The ruffians deserve all they get and more. Wh

rength of their temptation, the

hard voice, and taking up a book suddenly. "They must

for the worst of evil-doe

ined or unable to re

ciful; I am here to keep these scoundrels in o

t an accident might have made any one of us like

as suddenly

ly recovered, as he did in Burgess's parlour, at Port Arthur, seven years ago. "I am liable to these attacks. A touch o

hastly manner. "I-I will. If I do not appear fo

l not last so long as

eplying, "Sometimes longer. It is, a-um-uncertain," in a confused an

from Mr.

at's the m

Troke. Mr. Troke said you'd left orders to be t

s, I think, sir. They had a hard fight t

ll him that I shall have the pleasure of breaking M

ing to the conversation in undisguised alar

o him?" asks her husband, with

onymous with suffering and torture, because whatever wrong he may have

devouring her with his glance, saw tears in her eyes. "Does this look

forehead with the old troubled gesture-"he cannot have been

Let me hear you no more. The man is rebellious, and must be lashed b

ied poor Sylvia, her self-possession overthrown. "Y

it had been wandering, draws himself aside, and with dry lips makes shift to

ring of roughness on his own part to avoid reproach from his wife. "He drank half a bottle of

d with her own thou