tier every day, and he
seemed to grow fonder of her every day. He supplied her with a nicer
outfit of clothing and more pocket money than she had ever had in her
poverty-stricken life, and made her much happier every way than she had
ever been before, as long as his money lasted.

"He had left England with nearly one hundred pounds in his pocket--the
amount of his half-yearly allowance.

"On his arrival in New York, he had written to his father and confessed
his marriage with his tutor's step-daughter and begged forgiveness
and--remittances.

"Ann declined to write to her step-mother or the curate, declaring that
she preferred that they should believe that she had been driven by their
cruelty to bury herself in the quicksands, and that they should suffer
all the remorse of conscience and reprobation of society that their
conduct toward her deserved.

"But weeks passed, on and no letter filled with blessings and bank
notes came from the offended and obdurate father, though the boy
constantly assured his girl-wife that the expected epistle would surely
come in time, for he was the 'old man's' only son, whom he would not be
likely to discard.

"Meanwhile their money was running low. The youth was anxious to travel
and see the new world, and to take his bride with him, but he could not
do so without funds. At the end of six weeks after he had written the
first letter to his father he wrote a second, but received no answer;
later still he wrote a third, with no better success.

"They had gone a little into debt, in order to eke out their little
ready money until the longed-for letters of credit should come from
England; but at the end of six months credit and cash were nearly
exhausted.

"One morning in May the boy-husband took leave of the girl-wife, saying,
as he kissed her good-by, that he was going down into the city to see if
he could get some work to do.

"Without the least misgiving, she received his farewell kiss, and saw
him depart--watched him all the way down the street, until he got to
Second Avenue and boarded a down-town car.

"Then she re-entered the little gate, and began to tend the jonquils and
hyacinths that were just coming into bloom in her little flower garden.
She did not expect to see him until night, nor--did she see him even
then. When the little gate opened at eight o'clock and a man came up the
walk leading to the front door at which she stood, he was not her
husband, but the letter ca