gain, "let me go far away and leave you with
Jessie. She will recover, and you will marry her and be happy after all,
and I--I will never cross your path again."

He tore away the white little hands that clung to him, and turned to the
doctors. They were awed at the sight of his white, desperate face.

"You have both assured me that Miss Staples will not die from this
poisoning," he said, hoarsely; "and I--I, the one most vitally
interested in this affair, say to you: Open that door and let her go her
way."

Ah, God! that they should meet and part like this, after all those weary
months of heartache!

"God only knows her object in coming here in disguise and committing
this awful crime," was his mental thought; but aloud, he only said:

"Go, and may Heaven forgive you! Go to the father of your child."

A terrible lump rose in his throat; he could say no more.

The little one had crept out of Dorothy's arms, and out into the middle
of the floor; but Dorothy never, in that awful moment, thought of the
child. She was so stunned that the full import of his words did not
strike her just then.

She only knew that he was opening the door for her, and harshly
commanding her to go.

Like a storm-driven swallow, with one quick glance in his face, the girl
turned and fled from the room, and out of the house.

"You were too generous toward her," cried one of the doctors. "See! she
has abandoned her little child, Mr. Garner."

Then suddenly the doctor stopped short, and looked first at the
fair-haired, beautiful babe, then at Mr. Garner, and said no more.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

When Dorothy fled so precipitately from the room, she fairly ran into
the arms of a man who was crouching at one side, listening intently.
With a muttered imprecation, he drew back, and it was then Dorothy saw
his face.

"Hush! On your life, don't dare to make an outcry!" cried the harsh
voice of Harry Kendal.

Before she could utter the scream that welled up from her heart, he had
seized her in his strong arms, thrown a dark shawl over her head, dashed
out into the street with her, and into a cab in waiting.

Too weak to struggle, too weak to cry out, her head fell backward upon
her abductor's shoulder, and she knew no more.

When she awoke to consciousness of what was transpiring about her, she
found herself still in the coach beside Kendal, and the vehicle was
whirling along through the sunshine and shadow of a country road with
a