His treatment of his wife is most unsatisfactory. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. It was hot and dry. Superstition is the Chinese Reaper. Some day, when the rewards of literature permit the arduous research required, the Campaign of the Women will find its Carlyle, and the particulars of that marvellous series of exploits by which Miss Brett and her colleagues nagged the whole Western world into the discussion of women’s position become the material for the most delightful and amazing descriptions. " "Oh! of course," rejoined Mrs. I am quite clear about this. It is like some accident.
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