same man that adored
you so? Don't answer. I am, I am, for--Harriet, forgive me, I love you
yet--I love you yet!"

"But you left me, Mr. Stacy."

"Rather say the furies driv me. I wasn't myself. It was another fellow
that woman married: the true man staid with you, and here he is, just
the same as ever, if you would only believe it--but you won't, you
won't!"

"How can I believe it, Mr. Stacy, after abandoning me so?"

"But not till you driv me to it--not till you had slapped my face with
that precious little hand."

"Mr. Stacy, I--I'm glad you care for me a little, because I want a great
favor of you."

Stacy sat upright in the iron seat, and pulled down his white vest with
a couple of jerks.

"A favor, did you say?"

"Yes, a great favor."

"And what may its nature be, Miss Maggie?"

"Mr. Stacy, you are a rich man."

Stacy was troubled. To deny his wealth was a terrible sacrifice of
vanity--to admit it might be exposing himself to depredation.

"Well, yes," he said at last, "I am rich. No one in New York would doubt
that; but over here one has such trouble in getting funds, you
understand. It was only this morning Mrs. Stacy wanted money for a
little shopping, as she called it; but I couldn't give it to her--upon
my soul I couldn't."

"Then, it would be of no use to ask you for a loan of twenty-five
pounds, as I thought of doing."

"A loan of twenty-five pounds, my dear Maggie! Five hundred pounds would
not be too much, if I were only in New York; but here in London, where
Alderman Stacy is not known, I could not raise even the miserable sum
you want--I could not, indeed."

Maggie's eyes began to flash, for she understood the meanness of this
man, and despised it; but she thought of that anxious group in Olympia's
parlor, and resolved to have the money.

"Still, considering everything, I think you will try to oblige me."

"Don't ask me. It wounds my manhood to refuse; but let us talk of
something else--those dear old times--"

"No," said Margaret, unlocking one of her bracelets, and closing it with
a vicious snap. "If you cannot let me have it, I will go to your wife."

"My wife? You go to my wife! Why, she hates you like pison!"

"And I am not very fond of her; but I want this money, and she will have
to give it me."

Stacy pulled down his vest again, and broke into a mellow laugh.

"Well, I _should_ like to see you try it on! What would you say to her,
Maggie?"

"I would say: Mrs. Matt