otel on the East Side, New York, where Mr. and
Mrs. Stanton, from Toronto, Canada, would he at home, should anybody
call--which, it is quite safe to say, nobody ever did.

No, nothing of all this did the heart-broken woman tell the tender old
nurse, who had carried her in her arms many a night, and who was now
willing to sacrifice everything she possessed to give her mistress one
hour of peace.

Nor did she tell of the shock which she, a woman of quality, had
received when she entered the two cheaply furnished rooms, her only
shelter for months, and which, to a woman accustomed from babyhood to
a luxurious home and the care of attentive and loyal servants, had
affected her more keenly than anything that had yet happened.

Neither did she confide into the willing ears of the sympathetic
woman the details of her gradual awakening from Dalton's spell as his
irritability, cowardice, and selfishness became more and more apparent.
Nor yet of her growing anxiety as their resources declined; an anxiety
which had so weighed upon her mind that she could neither sleep nor
rest, despite his continued promises of daily remittances that never
came and his rose-colored schemes for raising money which never
materialized.

Neither did she uncover the secret places of her own heart, and tell the
old nurse of the fight she had made in those earlier days when she had
faced the situation without flinching; nor of her stubborn determination
to still fight on to the end. She had even at one time sought to defend
him against herself. All men had their weaknesses, she had reasoned;
Guy had his. Moreover, the crash had been none of his doing. He had been
deceived by false reports instigated by his enemies, including her own
father-in-law and--yes, her husband as well, who could have avoided
the catastrophe had he followed Guy's advice, and persuaded Sir Carroll
O'Day to hold on to his shares. How, then, could she desert him, poor as
he was and with the world against him? She had been untrue to everything
else. Could she not redeem herself by being at least true to her sin?

What she did tell Martha, and there was the old ring in her voice as she
spoke, was of her refusal to yield to Dalton's presistent entreaties
to write to her father for sufficient money to start him in a new
enterprise which, with "even his limited means"--thus ran the letter
she was to copy and sign--"was already exceeding his most sanguine
expectations, and which, with