iar term. At once Mrs. Doria pounced upon
the pension.

"That, of course, you know is at an end," she said in the calmest manner,
and Berry did not plead for the little bit of bread to her. She only
asked a little consideration for her feelings.

True admirers of women had better stand aside from the scene. Undoubtedly
it was very sad for Adrian to be compelled to witness it. Mrs. Doria was
not generous. The Pilgrim may be wrong about the sex not growing; but its
fashion of conducting warfare we must allow to be barbarous, and
according to what is deemed the pristine, or wild cat, method. Ruin,
nothing short of it, accompanied poor Berry to her bed that night, and
her character bled till morning on her pillow.

The scene over, Adrian reconducted Mrs. Doria to her home. Mice had been
at the cake during her absence apparently. The ladies and gentlemen
present put it on the greedy mice, who were accused of having gorged and
gone to bed.

"I'm sure they're quite welcome," said Mrs. Doria. "It's a farce, this
marriage, and Adrian has quite come to my way of thinking. I would not
touch an atom of it. Why, they were married in a married woman's ring!
Can that be legal, as you call it? Oh, I'm convinced! Don't tell me.
Austin will be in town to-morrow, and if he is true to his principles, he
will instantly adopt measures to rescue his son from infamy. I want no
legal advice. I go upon common sense, common decency. This marriage is
false."

Mrs. Doria's fine scheme had become so much a part of her life, that she
could not give it up. She took Clare to her bed, and caressed and wept
over her, as she would not have done had she known the singular child,
saying, "Poor Richard! my dear poor boy! we must save him, Clare! we must
save him!" Of the two the mother showed the greater want of iron on this
occasion. Clare lay in her arms rigid and emotionless, with one of her
hands tight-locked. All she said was: "I knew it in the morning, mama."
She slept clasping Richard's nuptial ring.

By this time all specially concerned in the System knew it. The honeymoon
was shoring placidly above them. Is not happiness like another
circulating medium? When we have a very great deal of it, some poor
hearts are aching for what is taken away from them. When we have gone out
and seized it on the highways, certain inscrutable laws are sure to be at
work to bring us to the criminal bar, sooner or later. Who knows the
honeymoon that did not steal