is tardy and difficult dentition, much might be hoped
from the aid of Nature herself. This was joyous intelligence to me.

The noble soul of Ernie should still wear a fitting frame, and the
stature of his kind be accorded to him! The "picaninny" wicked old Sabra
had gloated on as a dainty morsel, on the raft, might live to put Fate
itself to shame; for had I not marveled that his mother even should care
to preserve a thing so frail and wretched, when we sat hand-in-hand
together on the burning ship? And, later, had I not pondered over the
wisdom of his preservation? Who, then, shall penetrate the mysteries of
divine intention?

Claude Bainrothe had been arrested, but, after close and thorough
examination, was dismissed as irresponsible for and ignorant of his
father's acts and designs, a sentence afterward revoked, as far as
public opinion was concerned.

Evelyn, Mabel, and Mrs. Austin, were, of course, beyond suspicion--the
last two deservedly so; and if, indeed, Evelyn had been guilty of
cooeperation, I knew it had been through the force of circumstances
alone, too potent for her egotism and vanity. She never wished to
destroy, only to govern me, and make my being and interests subordinate
to her own. Mrs. Austin and Mabel received me with earnest joy, and
Evelyn even manifested a decent sense of sisterly gratulation.

I never saw Claude Bainrothe nor entered my father's house until after
he had left it and forever--accompanied not by his wife, who lingered
behind in distress and wretched dependence, most bitter to a spirit like
hers, neither loving to give or receive favors--for, gathering up all of
his own and his father's valuables, and drawing from the bank every
dollar he could command, this worthy son of an unprincipled sire fled to
join his parent, with his minion, Ada Greene. Evelyn had been for some
time sensible of his infatuation, and striven vainly to combat it by
every means in her power, forbearance having been her first alternative,
vivid reproach her last. But experiments had failed. The first only
fostered guilt beneath her own roof--the last urged it to its
consummation.

Still young and beautiful, she was deserted by the only man she had ever
loved--the being for whom she had ruthlessly sacrificed the welfare of
her sisters and every sentiment of honor; to whom she had given up her
liberty to pander to his and his father's ignominy, and her home to
their desecration.

In her great grief she r