the time being the
emptiness of the home to which we must sooner or later return."

Alice glanced up tenderly. "Poor dear Eleanor," she said, softly; but
Mrs. Gorham went on without heeding:

"One day, when little Carina was three years old, we were visiting at my
father's. It was late in the afternoon, and we were playing some child's
game together when the door was suddenly thrown open and Ralph glowered
in at us, his face purple with drunken anger. Even the four-mile ride
had failed to sober him, and he leaned against the framework of the door
to steady himself. The child, startled by the sudden interruption and
terrified by the expression on her father's face, ran to me for
protection, burying her little face in my lap.

"'That's right,' he leered at her; 'that's what they teach you to do
here--make you hate your father, don't they? I'll give you a chance to
get acquainted with me.'

"Then he crossed the room and tore the child from my arms, in spite of
her shrieks of fear and our joint efforts to stop him. Even my father,
who did all he could, was helpless against the man's almost superhuman
strength. In a moment he had mounted his horse with Carina in front of
him, and was galloping at breakneck speed down the long trail which led
to our ranch. Father rushed to the barn, but I was there before him.
Between us we saddled the mare I had ridden so many times before I was
married, and I urged her forward to make up as much as possible for the
lost time. But I had not far to go--"

The recital proved too much for Eleanor, in spite of her efforts to
control herself. Her eyes filled with tears, and her body was convulsed
with emotion as she bent her head until it rested against her
companion's face.

"Don't, dear," urged Alice; "tell me the rest some other time."

"No, no!" Mrs. Gorham cried; "you must know it all, and then we need not
speak of it again. I had gone over less than half the distance when I
came upon them both lying in the trail. I never knew how it happened. He
told some one afterward that the horse stumbled. It may have been that;
it may have been anything with him in that condition. He had fallen at
the side of the trail and was conscious before I left him, but Carina
was--dead."

"Don't, don't go on--I can't stand it!" cried Alice.

Eleanor paused as if in response to Alice's appeal, but a glance at her
face showed that an emotion stronger than even the words had expressed
was holding her in