haracter: here lived the old general whom she was to marry on the
fifth of the next month, there was the mansion of the rich widow who had
set her heart on Challoner; and though she still hung wearily on the
young man's arm, her laughter sounded low and pleasant in his ears.
"Ah," she sighed, by way of commentary, "in such a life as mine I must
seize tight hold of any happiness that I can find."

When they arrived, in this leisurely manner, at the head of Grosvenor
Place, the gates of the park were opening, and the bedraggled company of
night-walkers were being at last admitted into that paradise of lawns.
Challoner and his companion followed the movement, and walked for awhile
in silence in that tatterdemalion crowd; but as one after another, weary
with the night's patrolling of the city pavement, sank upon the benches
or wandered into separate paths, the vast extent of the park had soon
utterly swallowed up the last of these intruders; and the pair proceeded
on their way alone in the grateful quiet of the morning.

Presently they came in sight of a bench, standing very open on a mound
of turf. The young lady looked about her with relief.

"Here," she said, "here at last we are secure from listeners. Here,
then, you shall learn and judge my history. I could not bear that we
should part, and that you should still suppose your kindness squandered
upon one who was unworthy."

Thereupon she sat down upon the bench, and motioning Challoner to take a
place immediately beside her, began in the following words, and with the
greatest appearance of enjoyment, to narrate the story of her life.

STORY OF THE DESTROYING ANGEL

My father was a native of England, son of a cadet of a great ancient but
untitled family; and by some event, fault, or misfortune he was driven
to flee from the land of his birth and to lay aside the name of his
ancestors. He sought the States; and instead of lingering in effeminate
cities, pushed at once into the Far West with an exploring party of
frontiersmen. He was no ordinary traveller; for he was not only brave
and impetuous by character, but learned in many sciences, and above all
in botany, which he particularly loved. Thus it fell that, before many
months, Fremont himself, the nominal leader of the troop, courted and
bowed to his opinion.

They had pushed, as I have said, into the still unknown regions of the
West. For some time they followed the track of Mormon caravans, guiding
them