er delirium, and she would talk of her
marriage and beg Sanderson to let her tell her mother all. Then she
would fancy that she was again with Mrs. Tremont and she would go
through the pros and cons of the whole affair. Should she marry him
secretly, as he wished? Yes, it would be better for poor mama, who
needed so many comforts, but was it right? And then the passionate
appeal to Sanderson. Couldn't he realize her position?----

"Yes, darling, it is all right. Mother understands," the heartbroken
woman would repeat over and over again, but the sick girl could not
hear.

And so the days wore on, till at last Anna's wandering mind turned back
to earth, and again took up the burden of living. There was nothing
for her to tell her mother. In her delirium she had told all, and the
mother was prepared to bravely face the worst for her daughter's sake.

The terrible blow brought mother and daughter closer together than they
had been for years. In their prosperity, the young girl had been busy
with her governess and instructors, while her mother had made a fine
art of her invalidism and spent the greater part of her time at health
resorts, baths and spas.

By mutual consent, they decided that it was better not to attempt to
seek redress from Sanderson. Anna's letters, written during her
convalescence, had remained unanswered, and any effort to force him,
either by persuasion or process of law, to right the terrible wrong he
had done, was equally repulsive to both mother and daughter.

Mrs. Standish Tremont was also equally out of the question, as a court
of final appeal. She had been so piqued with Anna for interfering with
her most cherished plans regarding Sanderson and Grace Tremont, that
Anna knew well enough that there would only be further humiliation in
seeking mercy from that quarter.

So mother and daughter prepared to face the inevitable alone. To this
end, Mrs. Moore sold the last of her jewelry. She had kept it,
thinking that Anna would perhaps marry some day and appreciate the
heirlooms; but such a contingent was no longer to be considered, and
the jewelry, and the last of the family silver, were sent to be sold,
together with every bit of furniture with which they could dispense,
and mother and daughter left the little cottage in Waltham, and went to
the town of Belden, New Hampshire,--a place so inconceivably remote,
that there was little chance of any of their former friends being able
to