t length hereafter. One day, he sent her "Thoughts
that Ought to Be Those of Maggie Fox," the first refrain of which is as
follows:

"Dreary, dreary, dreary,
Passes life away,
Dreary, dreary, dreary,
The day
Glides on, and _weary
Is my hypocrisy_."

At the close of the second stanza were these lines:

"Happy as the hopes
Which filled my trusting heart,
Before I knew a sinful wish
Or learned a _sinful art_."

Again:

"So long this secret have I kept
I can't forswear it now.
It festers in my bosom,
It cankers in my heart,
_Thrice cursed is the slave fast chained
To a deceitful art_!"

And last:

"Then the maiden knelt and prayed:
'Father, my anguish see;
Oh, give me but one trusting hope
Whose heart will shelter me;
One trusting love to share my griefs,
To snatch me from a life forlorn;
That I may never, never, never,
Thus endlessly from night to morn,
Say that _my life is dreary
With its hypocrisy_!'"

Among the first words that Dr. Kane spoke to Margaret were these: "This is
no life for you, my child." As their reciprocal attraction grew stronger,
he bent all of his deep influence over her in one direction, to effect
once and for all her release from the fatal snare of deceit that fate had
cast about her. Only a few weeks later we find him writing her a note from
New York, in which he says:

"Look at the _Herald_ of this morning. There is an account of a suicide
which causes some excitement. Your sister's[6] name is mentioned in the
inquest of the coroner. Oh, how much I wish that you would quit _this life
of dreary sameness and unsuspected deceit_. We live in this world only for
the good and noble. How crushing it must be to occupy with them a position
of ambiguous respect!"

Dr. Kane, a short time afterwards, described Maggie as follows:

"But it is that strange mixture of child and woman, of simplicity and
cunning, of passionate impulse and extreme self-control, that has made you
a curious study. Maggie, you are very pretty, very childlike, very
deceitful, but to me as readable as my grandmother's Bible."

"And again he said: 'When I think of you, dear darling, _wasting your time
and youth and conscience for a few paltry dollars_, and think of the
crowds who come nightly to hear of the wild stories of the frigid North, I
sometimes feel that we ar