short time!" said Mr. Ogden, now in a sympathetic voice, and at the same time heeding the woman's command in the carriage, which he would not have ignored for any consideration.

The coachman assisted the stranger to his seat on the box, and then Mr. Ogden entered the carriage, closing the door carefully.

Then the splendid team of horses set off like the wind. "God have pity on me! that voice!"

He could never forget the voice of that alluring siren who had goaded him on, until he saw nothing but her seductive face, listened to nothing but her deceitful declarations of love, without thinking of his mother's grief and her death!

Could it be possible? She here in that closed carriage with another man? No, no! It was another hallucination of his feverish brain.

How could she ever have attained such wealth? "Nonsense!" he murmured smilingly to himself, drawing a long breath of relief. Ah! how he had adored that faithless woman!

The smiling expression died out of his face, and a mournful compassion for his deserted child stole into his troubled countenance. Why did she bring so much misery into his life? Every fibre of his noble heart had been throbbing with uncontrollable love for her! And now——the light of life, the hope of future years, was blotted out, clouds of despair and a grim night of an unbroken desolation fell like a pall on his heart and brain. Nothing to look forward to but misery!

VI.

He had wandered about like a soul condemned and lost to eternity. But the one hope to meet her again possessed him, kept him alive. And then—she'll come back to him—he was convinced of that; to his lonely little Mary. And after all she might be touched by his devoted love that knows how to pardon and overlook certain occurrences in the life of a giddy-headed woman!

Unfortunately the cold, calculating coquette had never felt a tinge of anything like love, and had only an observing eye for the monthly allowances he received from his well-to-do parents.

He had come to Dresden a young, inexperienced student to pursue a course in literature and jurisprudence. The handsome, dashing woman, somewhere in the twenties, soon allured him with her well tried arts. Within a short time he was her devoted slave and did not see nor hear anything else but her alluring voice, and after six months' acquaintance he led her to the altar without the knowledge of his parents.

When they found it out, through a friend living in Dresden, they were in despair, in their helpless anger. His mother never recovered from the rude shock her ambition had received. She did not know the woman, but when she heard that she belonged to a different faith, she was crushed, although the noble catholicity of spirit that distinguished her character did not allow her to show it. Her proudest hope to see that beloved son some day a respected citizen and lawyer in that little provincial town where his cradle stood, was gone forever!

Years of wrestling with life's sorrows had set upon her noble, benignant countenance, almost a seal of holiness, and shed over her placid features the mild, sweet life of a pure heart. Her white hair, the snowy mass prematurely white, wonderfully softened the outlines of her face.

Now deep lines commenced to furrow her sweet, indulgent features, and she grieved so deeply over the disgrace that she began to lose her health. Silently, without a word to her husband she performed her household duties, until one day her enfeebled constitution gave way and she died, praying for the only child she had ever had.

Her husband, Mr. Burge, under the double stress of the sorrow, refused to hear anything of the ungrateful son, for whom he had slaved and worked all his life, and whose grievous mistake in marrying an adventuress, had cost the mother's life.

He had a large estate to look after, but he was alone now. He needed the son, but what could he do? He was ashamed of the daughter-in-law! "No, not a cent of my money can she have," he murmured constantly to himself with a flushed face and dry lips, looking at his imposing estate, where the beautiful Rhine rushed by and the tumbled down castles of long-forgotten races were seen in the distance.

The irate father dissolved all connection with the son and stopped all payments, denying him any assistance whatsoever in the future.

After the regular allowance from home had entirely ceased, it was necessary for the young husband to go and seek some profitable employment to support his expensive wife.

He had never earned a cent, and racked his brain now how to get money. The tantalizing condition pressed upon him that he might not be able to support his family. Finally, he got a position with a meagre salary in a newspaper office, but he was scarcely able to provide the barest necessaries of life.

He commenced to write short stories. Although he had no ambition to climb to such a lofty niche in the temple of fame, he thought he might at least earn a modest income. Short stories and humorous lectures—that must make a hit. Everybody said that he had a humorous vein. Now the time had come to show his mettle, but the short stories were generally returned. The irate father had ceased to send money and no other help was discoverable. And then—after all that—she, his loving wife, dropped her mask and showed herself in her true colors.

"I have had enough of this," she said with a disgusted shrug of her white shoulders to her horrified husband. "I don't intend to starve here."

In vain he begged her to have a little patience for the sake of their child. The last short story must turn out to be a great success; he felt it and was really convinced of it.

"Convinced," she sneered contemptuously and turned away. No use of losing any breath about it, she thought. I am through with him anyway. Oh! How she longed to be rich, wear stylish clothes and be admired.

The beautiful coquette became restless in her little home; she looked about sick at heart, unable to tolerate it any longer, only wishing to get the opportunity to leave it forever. Her eyes were full of scorn when looking at her husband, who could not supply her with all that she longed for just now, and for which she would have pledged the salvation of her very soul. She commenced to frequent public places in the absence of her husband.

How she loathed poverty! "Anything but that," she murmured to herself, her face white with disgust as she walked on, gazing in all directions to see one of her former acquaintances, with a strange unrest in her large eyes. Her opportunity would come; she was sure of that, and it came in meeting one day the rich Englishman who was introduced to her by one of her former friends and boon companions.

Shortly after this encounter, she received a letter from the Englishman telling her of the deep and lasting impression she had made on him and how he longed to see her again. Her face flushed with pleasure as she read all these, and then perused an invitation to take an automobile ride through the beautiful mountains.

For some time she sat dazzled, and then she looked at the poorly furnished rooms; at her own wretched outfit, and her eyes flashed indignantly.

"I am through with all this. Here is the opportunity I was longing for," she said with a contemptuous smile. "I'll show him—the young inexperienced fool I have married—that beauty counts for a whole lot and ... boldness even more."

She stopped at the window and looked down at