He had made his bed and he must
lie upon it. Ernest had felt all this and had seldom come near me till
now, one evening late in 1860, he called on me, and with a very woebegone
face told me his troubles.
As soon as I found that he no longer liked his wife I forgave him at
once, and was as much interested in him as ever. There is nothing an old
bachelor likes better than to find a young married man who wishes he had
not got married--especially when the case is such an extreme one that he
need not pretend to hope that matters will come all right again, or
encourage his young friend to make the best of it.
I was myself in favour of a separation, and said I would make Ellen an
allowance myself--of course intending that it should come out of Ernest's
money; but he would not hear of this. He had married Ellen, he said, and
he must try to reform her. He hated it, but he must try; and finding him
as usual very obstinate I was obliged to acquiesce, though with little
confidence as to the result. I was vexed at seeing him waste himself
upon such a barren task, and again began to feel him burdensome. I am
afraid I showed this, for he again avoided me for some time, and, indeed,
for many months I hardly saw him at all.
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