been getting dividends, "I didn't think to see the
day when Abel Newt would be a solid, sensible man."

And Mr. Wetherley wondered, in a sighing way, what was the secret of
Abel's success.

The honorable member came out of the bank with the money in his pocket.
When the clock struck three he had the amount of all the notes in the
form of several bills of foreign exchange.

He went hastily to the river side and crossed to Jersey City.

"They have sent to say that the ship sails at nine in the morning, and
that we must be on board early," said Kitty Dunham, as he entered the
room.

"I am all ready," he replied, in a clear, cold, alert voice. "Now sit
down."

His tone was not to be resisted. The woman seated herself quietly and
waited.

"My affectionate Uncle Lawrence has given me a large sum of money, and
recommends travelling for my health. The money is in bills on London and
Paris. To-morrow morning we sail. We post to London--get the money; same
day to Paris--get the money; straight on to Marseilles, and sail for
Sicily. There we can take breath."

He spoke rapidly, but calmly. She heard and understood every word.

"I wish we could sail to-night," she said.

"Plenty of time--plenty of time," answered Abel. "And why be so anxious
for so long a journey?"

"It seems long to you, too?"

"Why, yes; it will be long. Yes, I am going on a long journey."

He smiled with the hard black eyes a hard black smile. Kitty did not
smile; but she took his hand gently.

Abel shook his head, mockingly.

"My dear Mrs. Delilah Jones, you overcome me with your sentimentality.
I don't believe in love. That's what I believe in," said he, as he opened
his pocket-book and showed her the bills.

The woman looked at them unmoved.

"Those are the delicate little keys of the Future," chuckled Abel, as he
gloated over the paper.

The woman raised her eyes and looked into his. They were busy with the
bills. Then with the same low tone, as if the wind were wailing, she
asked,

"Abel, tell me, before we go upon this long journey, don't you love me in
the least?"

Her voice sank into an almost inaudible whisper.

Abel turned and looked at her, gayly.

"Love you? Why, woman, what is love? No, I don't love you. I don't love
any body. But that's no matter; you shall go with me as if I did. You
know, as well as I do, that I can't whine and sing silly. I'll be your
friend, and you'll be mine, and this shall be the friend of both,