smile of contempt curled the corners of Edith's red mouth;
but otherwise she did not deign to notice these boasting comments, a
circumstance which so enraged her companion that she felt, for a
moment, like strangling the girl there and then.

But there was far more to be considered than her own personal
feelings, and she felt obliged to curb herself for the time.

If scandal was to be avoided, she must leave no inducement untried to
bend Edith's stubborn will, and madam herself was too proud to
contemplate anything so humiliating; she was willing to do or bear
almost anything to escape becoming a target for the fashionable world
to shoot their arrows of ridicule at.

"Edith, I beg that you will listen to me," she earnestly pleaded,
after a few moments of thought. "This thing is done and cannot be
undone, and now I want you to be reasonable and think of the
advantages which, as Emil's wife, you may enjoy. You are a poor girl,
without home or friends, and obliged to work for your living. There is
an escape from all this if you will be tractable; you can have a
beautiful house elegantly furnished, horses, carriages, diamonds, and
velvets--in fact, not a wish you choose to express ungratified. You
may travel the world over, if you desire, with no other object in view
than to enjoy yourself. On the other hand, if you refuse, there will
be no end of scandal--you will ruin the reputation of our whole
family--Emil will become the butt of everybody's scorn and ridicule. I
shall never be able to show my face again in society, either in Boston
or New York; and my husband, who has always occupied a high position,
will be terribly shocked and humiliated."

Edith listened quietly to all that she had to say, not once
attempting to interrupt her; but when madam finally paused, in
expectation of a reply, she simply remarked:

"You should have thought of all this, madam, before you plotted for
the ruin of my life; I am not responsible for the consequences of your
treachery and crime."

"Crime! that is an ugly word," tartly cried Mrs. Goddard, who began to
find the tax upon her patience almost greater than she could bear.

"Nevertheless, it is the correct term to apply to what you have
done--it is what I shall charge you with--"

"What! do you dare to tell me that you intend to appeal to the
courts?" exclaimed madam, aghast.

She had fondly imagined that, the deed once done, the girl having no
friends whose protection she coul