when after waiting some hours, I saw him last, he frowned at me;
there was no kiss, no caress, no welcome.

"'This is a nice piece of news,' he said. 'This comes of country
visiting.'

"'But you love me?--you love me?' I cried.

"'I did, my dear,' he said, 'but, of course, that died with Summer. One
does not speak of what is dead.'

"'Do you not mean to marry me?' I asked.

"'No, certainly not; and you know that I never did. It was a Summer's
amusement.'

"'And what is it to me?' I asked.

"'Oh, you must make the best of it. Of course, I will not see you want,
but you must not annoy me. And that old grandmother of yours, she must
not be let loose upon me. You must do the best you can. I will give you
a hundred pounds if you will promise not to come near me again.'

"I spoke no word to him; I did not reproach him; I did not utter his
name; I did not say good-bye to him; I walked away. I leave his
punishment to Heaven. Then I crushed the anguish within me and tried to
look my life in the face. I would have killed myself rather than have
gone home. My grandmother had forced me to be saving, and in the
postoffice bank I had nearly thirty pounds. I had a watch and chain
worth ten. I sold them, and I sold with them a small diamond ring that
had been my mother's, and some other jewelry; altogether I realized
fifty pounds. I went to the outskirts of London and took two small
rooms.

"I remember that I made no effort to hide my disgrace; I did not pretend
to be married or to be a widow, and the mistress of the house was not
unkind to me. She liked me all the better for telling the truth. I say
no word to you of my mental anguish--no words can describe it, but I
loved the little one. She was only three weeks old when a letter was
forwarded to me at the address I had given in London, saying that my
grandmother was ill and wished me to go home at once. What was I to do
with the baby? I can remember how the great drops of anguish stood on
my face, how my hands trembled, how my very heart went cold with dread.

"The newspapers which I took daily, to read the advertisements for
governesses, lay upon the table, and my eyes were caught by an
advertisement from some woman living at Brighton, who undertook the
bringing up of children. I resolved to go down that very day. I said
nothing to my landlady of my intention. I merely told her that I was
going to place the little one in very good hands, and that I would
return for my