ed breakfast. She smiled next day, and before the
week was past she was quite gay. She said she was not going to repine
and languish in sorrow.

Her conduct shocked the staid Puritans, and her fine apparel was ungodly
in their eyes.

Weeks rolled on, and no news came from the good ship _Silverwing_; but
they might not hear from her for months, and Mrs. Stevens did not borrow
trouble. She did not dream that the ship could possibly be lost, or that
her husband's voyage could be other than prosperous, so she plunged into
a course of extravagance and pleasure that would have ruined a
wealthier man than poor John Stevens.

"I must do something," she declared, "to relieve my mind from thoughts
of my poor, dear, absent husband, for whom I grieve continually."

Once John's mother and sister came to see her; but she was entertaining
some ladies from Greensprings and wholly neglected her visitors. The
grandmother held the baby on her knee, kissed the face, while her tears
fell on it; then silently the two unwelcome visitors departed for their
home, while Mrs. Stevens was so busily engaged with the ladies from
Greensprings that she did not even bid them adieu.

Dark days were in store for Dorothe Stevens. She heeded not the constant
reduction of her money until it was gone. Then she reasoned that her
husband would soon return with a goodly supply, and she began to use her
credit, which had always been good; but she found that the merchants who
once had smiled on her frowned when she came to ask for credit.

"Have you heard from your husband, Dorothe Stevens?" one asked, when she
applied to him for credit.

"No."

"He has been a long time gone."

"Yes; but he will return."

"The _Silverwing_ has not yet reached London."

"How know you that?" she asked, a momentary shadow coming over her face.

"The _Ocean Star_ hath just arrived, but brought no report from the
_Silverwing_."

"It left before the _Silverwing_ arrived. The ship was delayed a little.
It has reached there safely by this time, I am quite sure," and Mrs.
Stevens face grew bright as she made some purchases for which she had
not the money to pay. The merchant sold to her reluctantly, and she,
without dreaming that calamity could possibly befall her, went on
enjoying herself. Ex-Governor Berkeley had invited her to spend a few
days at Greenspring, where she met her husband's friend Hugh Price, with
other gay cavaliers and ladies.

Dorothe was a thorough ro