vy to this marriage, was Sarah's former nurse, Aunt
Myra, a negro belonging to Jackson Pepper.

Logan remained in the neighborhood, meeting his wife at the Smiths'
until early in February, when he left to join Washington's troops at
Morristown. A week after his departure, Jackson Pepper returned home,
and died suddenly of apoplexy a month later.

But even before Logan left the neighborhood, poor Sarah had cause to
bitterly repent the step she had taken. Logan had proven a
violent-tempered, dissolute, selfish man. He was constantly in want of
money, and when Sarah supplied him, he would resort to the tavern in
the village, and drink and gamble with a lot of low companions whose
society seemed more congenial to him than that of the poor, deluded
Sarah.

In April, Logan returned to the neighborhood, and he and Sarah were
then quietly but openly married. Immediately afterward she quitted
Chestnut Hall, and went to live in Philadelphia, her husband returning
to his regiment. She only saw him after that at infrequent intervals
and for a few hours at a time. His only object on these occasions
appeared to be to extort money from her. Then, in June, came tidings of
his having fallen in the battle of Monmouth.

"Were there two John Logans?" Abner asked huskily, his lips pallid, the
shadow of a great horror upon his face.

"That was what both these poor women at first thought," answered Dr.
Dudley, sadly; "but they were soon convinced otherwise."

"How was that?" asked Abner, feeling as if the ground which had
hitherto seemed solid was giving way under his feet.

"Your mother," Richard continued, "had with her a miniature of your
father. She showed it to Sarah, who recognized it as that of the man
she had married. A further description of the man tended to prove this
more conclusively--age, height, build, all corresponded. Logan,
according to both women, was very tall and slender, had wavy dark hair,
dark gray eyes, was a native of Kenelworth, Pennsylvania, and was
twenty-eight years old at the time of his death. Soon after your mother
came to us, I wrote to an old resident of this village, Kenelworth, and
learned from him that he knew of but one family of Logans who had ever
lived in the place. That was the family of Ezra Logan, who had been
dead several years, and had left two daughters and one son. Both
daughters had married and removed to a distant section of the country,
and the son, John Logan, had been killed at the