c lamp. She sprang up the
steps leading to the platform, and took the first vacant seat, which
was in front of an open window.

The silvery radiance from the globe just opposite, streamed in, and her
heart seemed to cease beating as the tall form moved forward and taking
off his hat, stood at the side of the car. Neither spoke. But when the
brass bell rang its signal and the train trembled into motion, a hand
was thrust in, and dropped upon her lap a cluster of exquisite white
roses, with one scarlet passion flower glowing in the centre.

During the three days spent in New York, Beryl's wounds bled afresh,
and she felt even more desolate than while sheltered behind prison
walls. The six-storied tenement house where she had last seen her
mother's face, and kissed her in final farewell, had been demolished to
make room for a new furniture warehouse. Strange nurses in the hospital
could tell her nothing concerning the last hours of the beloved dead;
and the only spot in the wide western world that seemed to belong to
her, was a narrow strip of ground in a remote corner of the great
cemetery, where a green mound held its square granite slab, bearing the
words "Ellice Darrington Brentano."

With her face bowed upon that stone, the lonely woman had wept away the
long hours of an afternoon that decided her plan for the future.

Dr. Grantlin had gone abroad for an indefinite period, and no one knew
the contents of his last letter. In New York her movements would be
subject to the SURVEILLANCE she most desired to escape; but in that
distant city where the "Anchorage" was situated, she might disappear,
leaving no more trace than that of a stone dropped in some stormy,
surging sea.

To find Bertie and reclaim him, was the only goal of hope life held for
her, and to accomplish this, the first requisite was to effectually
lose herself.

Anxious and protracted deliberation finally resulted in an
advertisement, which she carried next morning to the "Herald" office,
to be inserted for six months in the personal column, unless answered.

"BERTIE, IF YOU WANT THE LOST BUTTON WE BOUGHT AT LUCCA, WHEN CAN
GIGINA HAND IT TO YOU IN ST. CATHERINE'S, CANADA?"

She wore her old blue bunting dress, and a faded blue veil when she
delivered the notice at the office of the newspaper, and paid in
advance the cost of its publication. Later in the same day, clad in her
mourning garments, she went down to the Grand Central Depot and bought
a