rrier, who put a letter in her hand and went
away.

"She ran into the house, and lighted the gas to read her letter. Though
it gave her a shock, it did not shake her faith in her boy.

"The letter told her, in effect, that Alfred Whyte, when he left her
that morning, had started to go to England in the only way by which he
could get there--that is, by working his passage as a deck hand on board
an outward bound ship; that he had decided on this course so as to get a
personal interview with his father, to whom he would go as a penitent
prodigal son; for he was sure of obtaining by this means forgiveness,
and assistance that would enable him to return and bring his little wife
back to England, where they would thenceforth live in comfort and
luxury; that the reason he had not confided to her his intention of
making the voyage was because he dreaded opposition from her that might
have led him to abandon the one plan by which he hoped to better their
condition.

"He concluded by entreating her not to think for one instant that he
intended to desert her, who was dearer to him than his own life, but to
trust in him as he trusted in her. In a postscript he told her where to
find the small balance of money they had left, as he had only taken
enough for his car fare to the city. In a second postscript he promised
to write by every opportunity. In a third and last postscript he begged
her to keep up her heart.

"It seemed a frank letter, yet it was reticent upon one point--the name
of the ship on which he had sailed. This omission might have been
accidental. It certainly did not raise any doubt of the boy's good faith
in the mind of the girl.

"She cried a great deal over the separation from her lad, and she made a
confidant of the elderly Irishwoman who was her sole servant.

"After two weeks, Ann began to watch daily for the letter carrier, in
hope of getting a letter from Alfred; but day after day, week after
week, passed and none came. But there came news of the wreck of the
Porpoise, which had sailed from New York for London on the very day that
Alfred Whyte had left the country--and which had gone down in a storm in
mid-ocean with all on board.

"But as numerous ships had left New York on that day bound for various
British ports, it was impossible to discover whether the boy was on
board, or if he shipped under his own name or an assumed one.

"Ann cried more than ever for a few days, but then seemed to give up her