> NOVELS* 
 
 THEIR 
 ARRIAGEBOND 
 
 RT R 
 
 .
 
 9* 
 
 / 
 !4t >
 
 THE 
 
 ALBATROSS NOVELS 
 
 By ALBERT ROSS 
 
 23 Volumes 
 
 May be had wherever book* are sold at the price you 
 paid for this volume 
 
 Black Adonis, A 
 Garston Bigamy, The 
 Her Husband's Friend 
 His Foster Sister 
 His Private Character 
 In Stella's Shadow 
 Love at Seventy 
 Love Gone Astray 
 Moulding a Maiden. 
 Naked Truth, The 
 New Sensation, A 
 Original Shiner, An 
 Out of Wedlock 
 Speaking of Ellen 
 Stranger Than Fiction 
 Sugar Princess, A 
 That Gay Deceiver 
 Their Marriage Bond 
 Thou Shalt Not 
 Thy Neighbor's Wife 
 Why I'm Single 
 Young Fawcett's Mabel 
 Young Miss Giddy 
 
 G. W. DILLINGH AM CO. 
 Publishers :: :: New York
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND, 
 
 BY ALBERT Ross. 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 u His FOSTER SISTER," " SPEAKING OF ELLIN," 
 
 THOU SHALT NOT," "WHY I'M SINGLE," 
 
 " His PRIVATE CHARACTER." ETC. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1817, tf 
 
 G. W. Dillingham Co., Publishers. 
 
 [All rights reserved.}
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTXK 'AGE 
 
 I. A Contemplated Union . . .11. 
 
 II. Ida Strokes the Kitten . . . 23 
 
 III. "You know my wishes" . . .34 
 
 IV. Margaret Refuses to Listen . . .44 
 V. " Then I must live single " . . .56 
 
 VI. The Dangers of London . . .64 
 
 VII. Gordon occupies his Time . . 73 
 
 VIII. " Kiss me, Kingdon !" ... 82 
 
 IX. Two Rooms Connecting . . .91 
 
 X. Mr. and Mrs. Taylor . . . .100 
 
 XL "Come and let us talk" . . .106 
 
 XII. Lost in New York . . . .113 
 
 XIII. "You are a sick man" . . .122 
 
 XIV. Mrs. Bruce's Advice . . . .129 
 XV. Ida Warned 140 
 
 XVI. Matrimonial Perjuries .... 150 
 
 XVII. What do you expect ?" 161 
 
 XVIII. The Angel of Death . . . .172 
 
 XIX. Watching for his Prey . . . .182 
 
 XX. A Few Little Lies . . . .191 
 
 XXI. Sidney Brooks Takes a Hand . . 200 
 
 XXII. " Whom does he resemble?" . .208 
 
 XXIII. A Face in the Elevator . .219 
 
 u 
 
 2061938
 
 6 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER FAGK 
 
 XXIV. In the Lawyer's Office . . .231 
 
 XXV. "It's not a case of love" . . .237 
 
 XXVI. "Whose child is that?" . . .246 
 
 XXVII. Ida Roused to Anger . . . .256 
 
 XXVIII. "That is amusing, my dear!" . .264 
 
 XXIX. The Two Wives Meet . . . .274 
 
 XXX. " When did you begin to love me ?" . 284
 
 TO MY READERS. 
 
 Since the date of the publication of my last novel, 
 " His Foster Sister," the press of the country has been 
 extensively victimized through a bogus statement which 
 appeared originally in two of the New York newspapers 
 and was telegraphed far and wide in all directions. Dis- 
 patches were sent by Boston correspondents to those 
 sheets in February, alleging that I had become insane 
 and was " confined in a madhouse/' A denial, coupled 
 with physicians' certificates, which I sent to the press, 
 was printed in some cases, but the original story gained 
 by far the larger circulation. 
 
 The flimsy basis of the injurious statement was the 
 fact that I had suffered severely from insomnia, and had 
 placed myself under the special care of an expert phys- 
 ician at his residence. Friends in many States sent 
 sympathizing letters to my family, who were much dis- 
 turbed and annoyed at the falsehoods. The publica- 
 tions, which included in one instance an imaginary por- 
 trait of myself in an insane state, with an article by an 
 expert on the causes of my dementia, greatly aggravated 
 my symptoms and has undoubtedly delayed my recovery. 
 I am at present getting back to health very slowly, but 
 I think surely, and owing to a habit of keeping my work 
 
 M
 
 8 TO MY READERS. 
 
 well ahead, I am able to give you my usual July novel in 
 time. 
 
 You will notice that I have returned in the present in- 
 stance to a discussion of those relations between men and 
 women which make a very large share of the troubles of 
 the world. I intend to emphasize the folly of com- 
 pelling marriage between unwilling people, and also to 
 ehow once more the inevitable suffering which is certain 
 to follow infringements of the moral law. For, although 
 my hero and heroine outlive their transgressions, the ex- 
 periences through which they pass will not encourage 
 any one to tread in their footsteps. I have also en- 
 deavored to give due compensation to the wronged ones, 
 who suffered from no fault of their own. 
 
 Neither writers nor readers are likely to agree as to 
 the kind of novel that is most interesting and instruc- 
 tive, but I see no reason to make any permanent change 
 in my own methods. I have failed utterly to find enter- 
 tainment in the new style of romance which deals with 
 frequent broadsword combats and wearisome confine- 
 ments of military gentlemen in pitch-dark dungeons. I 
 am even impervious to the delights of tales wherein pri- 
 vate persons are mistaken for sovereigns of foreign coun- 
 tries, on account of red hair brought into their families 
 through the fault of their grandmothers. The every- 
 day affairs of common life are enough for me, and the 
 language of the present hour is more pleasing to my ear 
 than the mixture of fifteenth century English and boule- 
 vard French which those impossible cavaliers present. 
 
 The handsome, complete edition in cloth binding, 
 which my publishers have lately issued, will enable all 
 who wish to do so to obtain my novels in that form. The 
 constant demand for even the very earliest ones indi- 
 cates that they have found a permanent place. I only
 
 TO MY READERS. 9 
 
 ask those critics who feel it necessary to attack my 
 stories violently to read at least a portion of some volume 
 before they sharpen their stilettos; and to those who 
 have so often given me more praise than I deserve, I 
 eay, credit me with the intention and desire of entertain- 
 ing and benefiting my readers, and I shall be content. 
 
 At this date I am convalescing, but unable to do much 
 work. To those who have sent expressions of sympathy 
 I return heartfelt thanks. It is much to know that so 
 many whom I have never met were induced to send 
 messages of condolence to my loved ones, when they sup- 
 posed me beyond the reach of their words. When I am 
 sufficiently recovered I shall be impelled to renewed 
 efforts to please my million readers, who have been so 
 steadfast and loyal to me. 
 
 ALBERT ROSS. 
 
 Cambridge, Mass., May, 1897.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A CONTEMPLATED UNION. 
 
 The handsome, old-fashioned parlors of Mrs. Walden 
 Bruce, at Newton, near Boston, were filled with a happy 
 company. Mrs. Bruce had heen a resident of the town 
 for many years, and invitations to her "evenings" were 
 held in high esteem by residents for many miles around. 
 The people one was likely to meet there were seldom 
 either snobs or lions, but were selected with the idea of 
 making a cheerful group capable of imparting pleasure 
 to each other and insuring occasions where the danger of 
 being bored was reduced to a minimum. 
 
 Mrs. Bruce, though hardly yet out of the thirties, had 
 been long a widow. At the moment when our story 
 opens she was standing, with her handsome daughter, in 
 the centre of an animated circle engaged in conversation. 
 Though still so young, she had an abundance of silvery 
 hair, which she had never taken any pains to conceal.
 
 12 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 She was of matronly build, with a good color, a bright 
 pair of dark eyes and a charming expression of counte- 
 nance. In her dress she was tasteful, but simple. She 
 was not a believer in the school which throws a young 
 woman back into the frivolities of youth merely because 
 she happens to be bereft of her husband. Neither 
 did she think it seemly to parade her loss on all possible 
 occasions, though she felt the blow keenly. She had 
 steered, with great discernment, between the perpetual 
 black crape and veil that make one shudder at a certain 
 species of woman and the frivolous actions of another 
 variety which becomes a sort of ballet dancer for the 
 delectation of the rising generation. She was reputed 
 possessed of a fair fortune, and the estate on which her 
 residence was situated was a beautiful old place, com- 
 prising many acres, which seemed destined, with the 
 growth of Boston, to be very valuable at some time in the 
 future. 
 
 Miss Ida Bruce, the only daughter of the lady, then in 
 her nineteenth year, was unquestionably the fairest ob- 
 ject among the many good-looking women present. 
 Plump without being stout, a little above the average in 
 height, with a lovely complexion, and an abundance of 
 fair hair arranged with exquisite taste, she was as pretty 
 a girl as one might find in a long journey. She was 
 gowned most becomingly, and her manners were a happy 
 medium between the simpering ways of the grammar- 
 chool graduate and the airy pretensions that so many of 
 her sex think it best to affect. 
 
 "Simply charming!' 5 was the expression of all the men 
 who saw her; and the same verdict was wrung unwilling- 
 ly from the lips of many women whose envious eyes 
 wandered over the beautiful picture. 
 
 "Oh, there's no denying that Ida Bruce is pretty!"
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 13 
 
 ihey would say, in despair. "And I wonder who taught 
 her to dress with such perfection. I never saw her when 
 she wasn't a model for a costumer, though I don't be- 
 lieve she spends any more on her clothes than hundreds 
 who can't approach them in effect." 
 
 Two young men stood on opposite sides of the room 
 from Mrs. Bruce and her daughter, eying them as closely 
 as was consistent with good breeding, between the 
 pauses in the conversation they were having. 
 
 "How wondrously beautiful Ida is to-night!" said one 
 of them, whose name was Carroll Thorpe, as if the ex- 
 pression was forced from him in spite of himself. 
 
 Gordon Hayne, to whom the remark was addressed, 
 did not take his gaze from the object of its apostrophe. 
 
 "She is, on the whole, the finest girl of her age I ever 
 saw," he responded, in a low tone. 
 
 "She would be proud to know that you said so," re- 
 plied Carroll, with a laugh. "I believe you are consid- 
 ered the best judge in the State. Feminine beauty, ac- 
 cording to all accounts, is one of your specialties." 
 
 Hayne reddened, as if he did not like the intended 
 compliment in this connection. 
 
 "I wonder on what the gossips base their informa- 
 tion," he said, with a shade of coldness. "I know well 
 enough that my name gets mixed up in half the scandals 
 in the neighborhood of Boston; and yet, nine times 
 out of ten, there's not the faintest excuse for the talk. 
 Perhaps the reason is that I have a sharp eye and a quick 
 ear. Nothing entertains me more than an interesting 
 woman who has begun to take the bit in her teeth. I 
 like to know one of that sort, to converse with her, to 
 litter veiled allusions and watch the effect, even to widen 
 somewhat the scope of her imagination. But to lay 
 every faux pas to me is a gross injustice, not only to
 
 H THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 myself, but to others who boast of their 'conquests' and 
 are cheated out of the 'credit' that properly belongs to 
 them." 
 
 There was no mistaking the ironical vein in which the 
 closing words were uttered. 
 
 "I have evidently fallen into the popular error/' 
 smiled Thorpe. "I should have said that your shoulders 
 were broad enough to carry all the weight piled on them. 
 Still, if I were put on the stand, I can't recollect a single 
 bit of proof in any case. It has puzzled me a little, too, 
 that I never heard you speak slightingly of a woman." 
 
 The aquiline nostrils of Mr. Hayne distended. He 
 talked in a very low voice, though in the hubbub shout 
 him an ordinary tone would have served to confine his 
 remarks to the ears for which they were intended. Dur- 
 ing the entire time his eyes remained fixed, as if fas- 
 cinated, upon the figure of the pretty girl across the 
 room. 
 
 "There are two kinds of women," he said, impressive- 
 ly, "against whom no decent man will insinuate any- 
 thing. One class is composed of those about whose lapses 
 he could testify if he liked; the other class is composed 
 of those of whose shortcomings he knows nothing." 
 
 Carroll Thorpe smiled broadly. 
 
 "That's sweeping," he said. "You mean that women 
 should, under all circumstances, be exempt from criti- 
 cism." 
 
 Mr. Hayne nodded. 
 
 "A woman should have the privilege, with men, of 
 passing for what she pleases to appear." 
 
 "It is a pity members of their own sex are not so 
 magnanimous," suggested Thorpe. 
 
 "The greatest of pities," replied Hayne. "Ah!" he 
 added, 'Tic-re cvines Brooke *'
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 15 
 
 The gentleman named was slowly making his way to- 
 ward the pair. He was a little older than the other two, 
 who were perhaps twenty-three or twenty-four, of slen- 
 der build and with the sloping shoulders often associated 
 with the idea of a student. Although his face was rather 
 pale, however, he gave the impression of possessing the 
 normal amount of strength and of being a man of force 
 and determination. His countenance bore lines of care 
 already, as if he had found life a serious matter, and 
 showed a vivid contrast to both the others, who gave 
 equal evidence of having passed their youth in content- 
 ment and ease. His garments were as plain as possible, 
 he eschewed jewelry almost entirely, and he had a hesi- 
 tation in speech that reminded one of an immature girl. 
 
 Most strangers, if invited to guess, would have set him 
 down as an embryo clergyman, or at least a seminary 
 professor. But he was in reality a lawyer, who was al- 
 ready making a name at the bar and had secured pos- 
 session of a satisfactory practice. He had dark hair, 
 which generally hung, by a contrariness of nature, half 
 across his forehead, and sombre eyes that could not help 
 attracting attention on account of the strange, mys- 
 terious quality that shone from their depths. 
 
 "Gordon was just saying," remarked Thorpe, when 
 Mr. Brooks reached them, "that he makes it a rule never 
 to speak ill of a woman, whether he knows anything 
 about her or not." 
 
 "Oh, don't tell Sidney of my rules!" exclaimed Mr. 
 Hayne, impatiently. "He doesn't know anything about 
 women, any way. What he wants is to have people 
 pointed out and named, and get introductions to those 
 he doesn't know." 
 
 Then, in a tone and manner that showed* his liking for 
 the young attorney, he proceeded from where they stood
 
 16 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 to impart information regarding those present whom his 
 friend had not met, giving their names, mentioning their 
 occupations and other matters that he imagined might 
 be of interest. 
 
 "I think you know every man in Boston and vicinity," 
 said Mr. Brooks, pleasantly. 
 
 "Well, I know a good many; and in a place like thia 
 I make some one tell me about those I don't know. I'm 
 a little quicker than you in some things, and yet I sup- 
 pose you could talk more interestingly to the Supreme 
 Court than I could." 
 
 Apparently considering that his friend's curiosity was 
 confined mainly to the masculine sex, Mr. Hayne made 
 no allusions to the women except to utter such expres- 
 sions as, "That lady next to him is his wife/' or "That 
 elderly lady in gray is the mother of the representative 
 in the Legislature from Brookline." 
 
 A fourth gentleman joined the party at this juncture, 
 and was presented to Messrs. Thorpe and Brooks by Mr. 
 Hayne as "Mr. Nelson, one of the Boston Herald staff, 
 whom you ought to know." Mr. Nelson, who was at- 
 tending Mrs. Bruce's receptions for the first time, was 
 also in search of information and knew that he hd 
 reached the right place to find it. 
 
 "I understand that the elderly gentleman in that cor- 
 ner, who never leaves his chair, is Mr. Edward Dale," he 
 remarked, consulting his notebook. 
 
 "Yes," said Mr. Hayne. "And that good-looking fel- 
 low on his right the one who was just talking to Mrs. 
 Bruce is his son, Kingdon Dale." 
 
 The man last pointed out was, indeed, a "good-looking 
 fellow." He was a little past his majority, tall enough 
 and exceedingly well-proportioned. His clothes fitted 
 him to a nicety, ills hair was brown, with a faint tinge
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 17 
 
 of red, and he combed it in a manner that was moet 
 becoming. He had a look of good temper on his fine 
 countenance, mingled at the present moment with a 
 tinge of anxiety, which none but a close observer might 
 have been able to note. 
 
 "Is it true that his father has arranged with Mrs. 
 Bruce to have him marry Ida?" asked Carroll Thorpe, 
 with the idea that Mr. Nelson might be interested in that 
 question. 
 
 "I've heard so," responded Mr. Hayne, clearing his 
 throat of something that stuck there. "You know the 
 lands of the Bruces here in Newton join those of the 
 Dales, and some people fancy the English way of con- 
 necting marriages with real estate transactions. Then, 
 they've been thrown together from childhood. He's only 
 twenty-two and she " 
 
 There seemed nothing to cause the breaking off of the 
 sentence, but the listeners saw that Mr. Hayne had fin- 
 ished all he meant to say on the subject. He was looking 
 again at Miss Ida. 
 
 "You know young Mr. Dale personally, I presume?" 
 said Mr. Nelson, when the mantel clock had ticked off 
 fifteen or twenty seconds. 
 
 "What, Kingdon?" Mr. Hayne's face lit up. <<Yes, 
 we've been intimate for years. We were off at school to- 
 gether. I suppose," he added, reflectively, "if you were 
 to ask him for his closest friend, he would mention my 
 name." 
 
 "Then you ought to know exactly what his marital 
 intentions are," said Thorpe, wisely. 
 
 "No. There are things he never speaks about, and 
 this is one of them. I used to hint about it," he went 
 on, as if talking to himself, "but it did no good. Indeed, 
 the first I knew of of Miss Bruce was by seeing her
 
 18 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 photograph, on his desk. He told me her name, and 
 said her family lived near his home but nothing fur- 
 ther. I renewed the subject more than once, but made 
 no progress. He had plenty of other pictures there, 
 women as well as men, friends, relations, all the usual 
 assortment; there was nothing to show that he held this 
 one in special regard. But," the speaker drew a long 
 breath as if he were getting tired, "I have heard me 
 rumors you mention, and I think, very likely, they are 
 true." 
 
 Mr. Nelson remarked, with fervor, that in that case 
 Mr. Kingdon Dale must be a very happy man. Messrs. 
 Thorpe and Brooks silently indicated that he expressed 
 their own conviction. 
 
 "Mr. Dale, Sr., looks in wretched health to-night, 
 doesn't he?" said Mr. Thorpe. "Kingdon almost wor- 
 ships his father, and if you watch him you will see how 
 earnestly and anxiously he gazes in that direction." 
 
 All the members of the group followed the suggestion, 
 and soon had ocular proof that it was true. 
 
 "I wish you would present me to Kingdon Dale," said 
 Mr. Nelson, a moment later, to Mr. Hayne. "You will 
 excuse us," he added to the others when Mr. Hayne re- 
 sponded that he would do so with pleasure. 
 
 Finding that the new acquaintances entered at once 
 into a lively conversation, Hayne soon left them together 
 and strolled about the house, speaking to many persons 
 whom he knew and going almost everywhere, in fact, 
 except toward the spot where Mrs. and Miss Bruce were 
 located. He paused to hear a soprano sing two pieces, 
 which were received with general applause. He talked 
 politics for some minutes with a party of men, who 
 seemed to have an aversion to feminine society, or, per- 
 haps, it was the feminine part of the gathering that did
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 19 
 
 not care for them. So, going from one set to another, 
 and always finding himself welcome, he came gradually 
 to the chair occupied by the senior Mr. Dale, and, find- 
 ing another unoccupied, sat down to have a chat with 
 that gentleman. 
 
 "A delightful party," he said, affably. "But, then, 
 Mrs. Bruce always manages to have that." 
 
 Mr. Dale nodded assent. 
 
 "She does, indeed," said he. "My illness prevents my 
 enjoying these things, however, as you younger people 
 do. I would go home, even at this hour, except that I 
 feel it a duty to remain. The Bruces have been my 
 neighbors for twenty years, you know, and one owes 
 much to appearances." His eyes wandered back to the 
 place where Mrs. Bruce and Ida were standing. "Don't 
 you think she looks remarkably well this evening?" he 
 asked, abruptly. 
 
 Mr. Hayne started. 
 
 "Our hostess? Yes. I had noticed it," he answered, 
 obstinately. 
 
 The elder Dale gave an impatient shrug to his 
 shoulders, and winced at a rheumatic twinge that fol- 
 lowed the motion. 
 
 "No, no!" he exclaimed. "Ida. She shines like a star 
 of the first magnitude among all the girls around her." 
 
 "Oh!" said Hayne, composing himself. "Yes, ahe 
 looks very well." 
 
 A glance of suppressed indignation came from the old 
 gentleman. 
 
 "There's nothing prettier in all the land," he said, 
 sharply. "Nor sweeter. Nor better. I have watched her 
 grow from an infant to this day, and no flower ever came 
 from shoot to stem, from bud to blossom, with greater
 
 20 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 loveliness. What a happy man he will be who gathers 
 that flower for his own!" 
 
 There was a fascination about the subject that en- 
 thralled Gordon Hayne. He had determined not to dis- 
 cuss Miss Bruce with any one again that evening, but the 
 opportunity that he could not resist had come to him. 
 
 "Is is there any one in particular who has that pros- 
 pect?" he inquired, carelessly, looking toward the farther 
 end of the room, where a lady was about to play a selec- 
 tion on a piano. 
 
 Mr. Dale's face brightened. For the instant his pains 
 were forgotten, and he looked happy. 
 
 "I may as well tell you," he said, in a low tone, 
 "though you had best not talk with him about it. I 
 would rather you did not. It has been understood for 
 years between her mother and me. When the right 
 time comes she is to be my daughter-in-law." 
 
 Gordon Hayne wondered if any of the passers would 
 notice a strangeness in has countenance. Schooled to 
 conceal his feelings on most occasions, he knew that a 
 close inspection of his face at this moment would excite 
 remark. 
 
 "Ah!" he replied. "I had heard rumors of that pos- 
 sibility. So it is arranged?" 
 
 Mr. Dale hitched his chair nearer. 
 
 "Perhaps I am injudicious," he said. "But you are an 
 old friend, a much-liked friend, of my son. I ask you 
 again not to speak of this to him unless he first broaches 
 the matter to you. I cannot truly say that everything is 
 finally arranged, but it amounts to the same thing. Her 
 mother is satisfied I am satisfied. They are eminently 
 fitted for each other. They have been close friends from 
 babyhood. Neither has ever expressed a fondness for 
 any other person of the opposite sex. It is coming
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 21 
 
 around all right. They are young there is no great 
 haste. I only wish/' here Mr. Dale grew very serious, 
 "to see them united before I die." 
 
 It became incumbent on Mr. Hayne to remark that 
 the disagreeable day foreshadowed would undoubtedly 
 be very long in coming. He had not noticed, he said, 
 that Mr. Dale seemed any worse than he had been for a 
 long time, and was about to mention instances where 
 people of his acquaintance had long outlived their ex- 
 pectation, when his companion interrupted. 
 
 "I indulge in no fancies on that score," he said. "The 
 doctors give me three years at the most. I am quite con- 
 tent. My infirmities are too numerous to make this 
 world worth clinging to. I want to see Kingdon settled, 
 happily married to this beautiful girl, and then I will 
 take the summons without complaint." 
 
 Mr. Hayne bowed, with soberness, as was fitting, and 
 rose with the remark that he noticed a friend to whom 
 he wished to speak. 
 
 His friend must have been a denizen of the solar vault, 
 for he went immediately out upon the veranda, and 
 walked up and down with his eyes turned toward the 
 stars. He stayed so long that Thorpe, who was in 
 search of him, came out and found him there. 
 
 "Isn't it time for us to go?" asked Thorpe. "We must 
 either get this 10.45 train to the city or wait till 11.30." 
 
 "All right," was the answer. "I'm ready. Where's 
 Brooks? Is he going, too?" 
 
 "He's with Kingdon," said Thorpe. "He says the last 
 train will do for him." 
 
 Together the gentlemen went to bid good-night to 
 their hostess, with the usual courteous expressions. Miss 
 Ida, in a word or two, sweetly seconded her mother's 
 hope that she would see them both at her next soiree.
 
 22 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 Thorpe took her hand in parting, but Hayne evaded the 
 ceremony, and bowed low instead. 
 
 "Good-night, Kingdon," he said, brusquely, as they 
 passed that gentleman. "No, we've our train to catch, 
 and there's no time for handshaking," he added, hasten- 
 ing by.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 23 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 IDA STROKES THE KITTEN. 
 
 Mrs. Walden Bruce had done her part fully in relation 
 to the marriage which she meant should take place 
 between Mr. Kingdon Dale and her daughter. She had 
 talked of it as a settled affair to the girl from the time 
 Ida was thirteen years of age. She had cautioned the 
 child as to what her conduct must be under every im- 
 aginable situation toward their neighbor's son, and she 
 had found an apt pupil. 
 
 No ship was ever better under the guidance of a 
 helmsman. Ida had never felt the least symptom of the 
 complaint called Love for Kingdon Dale. She had fan- 
 cied that it would be nice to have an establishment of 
 her own, some time, and much better to have a fine-look- 
 ing gentleman at the head of it than to live an old maid, 
 with parrots and tabby cats. She liked men in the con- 
 crete, the pleasant kind of men one is apt it meet in so- 
 ciety. If her mother had chosen any one of a dozen 
 others whom she knew, and said to her, "Ida, this is the 
 individual I have selected for your husband/' she would 
 have lowered her eyes and answered, 'Tes, mamma/* 
 with equal contentment. 
 
 And Kingdon, though he had seen her frequently (the 
 managing parents had left them a good deal alone) had 
 never spoken a word to her that indicated particular af- 
 fection. The reason for this is easy to give he had no 
 more love for her than she had for him. He had never 
 been especially attracted toward any person of the op-
 
 34 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 posite sex, though he was fond of the company of 
 "girls," and not at all bashful. 
 
 He wanted to please his father, as she wanted to please 
 her mother. He knew, from frequent expressions on the 
 part of his only living parent, that in his mind he was 
 as good as engaged to Ida Bruce. It seemed an inevitable 
 thing, and while, at the time of the evening party re- 
 ferred to in the preceding chapter, he had no intention 
 of defying the paternal will, he wished the date of his 
 wedding postponed as long as possible. 
 
 He was not insensible to the attractions of Miss Bruce; 
 he could not be and have the full use of his senses. He 
 had never had his attention called to a more appetizing 
 specimen of the female race. Physically she was very 
 near perfection. Mentally she was above the average. 
 She had paid due attention to the best of teachers and 
 had a good education. 
 
 Kingdon believed that if it were not for the fact that 
 his prior claim was generally conceded, she would have 
 plenty of aspirants for her hand. If he was compelled 
 to marry, it might as well be to her as another. Perhaps, 
 he often thought, he might have fallen in love with her 
 of his own accord if things had not been so terribly cut 
 and dried. 
 
 There was no sense in paying addresses to a girl who 
 had been marked and ticketed for him ever since she was 
 in short frocks. When the time came she would be 
 handed over and he would have to accept her as. if she 
 were a monument or a set of engrossed resolutions. 
 There was nothing to stir the pulses of youth in such a 
 perfunctory affair. 
 
 Kingdon was already in business. He had chosen 
 that path in life in preference to any of the professions, 
 and was novr the junior partner in a spice and coffee im-
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 25 
 
 porting house, where he was admitted to have talents 
 and to be of value to the concern. 
 
 He was the only child of his father, and there existed 
 much affection between them. The elder Dale had al- 
 ways exacted implicit obedience, and the son had always 
 rendered it. There had been nothing up to the time of 
 which I am writing to cause the least friction between 
 them. To get Kingdon established well in business, and 
 to see him married to the girl of his (the father's) 
 choice these were the ambitions of Edward Dale's life, 
 and when they should be accomplished, as he had told 
 Gordon Hayne, he was willing to meet the messenger of 
 Death. 
 
 Several weeks after the party at Mrs. Bruce' s, King- 
 don was asked to make a foreign journey, in the interest 
 of his firm the first one he had ever undertaken. When 
 he came home to announce to his father that he had 
 been selected for this mission, his face flushed with 
 pride. 
 
 "I think it a great compliment," said he, "when there 
 are two other partners older than I who have never had 
 the chance to go. And, besides, I have always longed to 
 see Europe, and they have agreed to give me ample op- 
 portunity. I am to go first to London, to attend to a lit- 
 tle business there; then to Holland, where I have things 
 to settle with the Dutch colony people; and on my way 
 from there to the East I am to be allowed a fair amount 
 of time to see the cities and other objects of interest en 
 route. Mr. Hanson says he thinks it best to give me a 
 chance this time, as I shall probably have to go often 
 hereafter, and I might as well satisfy my curiosity first 
 as last. Isn't it delightful?" 
 
 It was not till he had finished these exclamations that 
 Kingdon saw the deep shadow on his father's counte-
 
 2$ THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 nance. Then it struck him all at once that he had been 
 very selfish, and he proceeded without delay to apolo- 
 gize. 
 
 "My dear father/' he began, "I ought to have thought 
 I am very sorry " 
 
 "No, don't say that," interposed Mr. Dale. "It will, 
 it is true, be hard for me to part with you for so long, 
 and, perhaps, in my state of health " 
 
 "Forgive me! I will not go!" cried Kingdon. 
 
 "On the contrary, you must," was the dignified reply. 
 " It is not for the old to set up their whims against the 
 best interests of the young. I have lived my life, and 
 what there is left is of but little value." The son tried 
 to protest, but was not allowed to speak. "I want to see 
 two things arranged before I go, and they both concern 
 you. One of them looks fair it is that of your business 
 connections. The other, as you will undoubtedly guess, 
 is your marriage." 
 
 Kingdon, who had been growing pale, turned red at 
 the concluding words. But he only bowed politely. 
 
 "Your partners tell me that you are a business man by 
 instinct," pursued Mr. Dale, after a momentary pause. 
 "They prove their high opinion of you by the commis- 
 sion of which you have just told me. To go through this 
 life contentedly a man needs a suitable income and a 
 good wife. I am certain that you will have both." 
 
 Kingdon bowed again, reverentially. His father's 
 solicitude, his perfect self-abnegation, impressed him 
 deeply. 
 
 "When are you to sail?" asked Mr. Dale. 
 
 "In about five weeks." 
 
 The father looked thoughtful. 
 
 "It should be announced before you go," he said.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE UQKD. %1 
 
 "To what do you refer?" asked the son, slightly 
 startled. 
 
 "Your engagement to Miss Bruce." 
 
 There was great uneasiness in Kingdon's manner, 
 which he strove in vain to conceal. 
 
 "You know, at least you understand, father," he mur- 
 mured, "that no word has ever passed between Ida and 
 myself on the subject." 
 
 The elder man raised himself in his chair. 
 
 "Quite proper," he commented, with evident satisfac- 
 tion. "There was no need of spooning when both of you 
 knew what was to come. I have expressed my intentions 
 to you a hundred times, and Mrs. Bruce has done the 
 same to Ida. You are sensible young folks, who know 
 what is good for yourselves. All it wants now is a few 
 sentences from you to her, a dozen words in reply, and 
 then a paragraph in the society papers. You can go over 
 to call on her to-day; mention that you are going 
 abroad for how long, do you think?" 
 
 "Four or five months." 
 
 "Four or five months," repeated Mr. Dale, "and sug- 
 gest that this seems a proper time to announce your in- 
 tentions to the world." 
 
 Kingdon bit his lips nervously. 
 
 "Isn't that hurrying things a little?" he asked. "A 
 man has to get up to that point rather gradually, I 
 should suppose. I've got to ask her if she'll marry me, 
 haven't I, before I suggest announcing our engage- 
 ment?" 
 
 Mr. Dale moved about impatiently in his chair. 
 
 "Gracious!" he exclaimed, with signs of coming tem- 
 per. "Have I, at my age, got to instruct a boy how to 
 approach a girl in a matter of this kind? Nothing is 
 more simple. Just step in and have a little talk; tell her
 
 28 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 you are going away; say you want her for your wife, and 
 when she answers that she accepts you, explain why it is 
 best to make the public statement at once to keep 
 others from bothering her during your absence. It isn't 
 an affair of more than ten minutes, the whole thing!" 
 
 Though not at all sure that he could arrange these 
 momentous details in such a short space of time, King- 
 don was not ready to enter into an argument with hia 
 parent, which would be, he foresaw, to no purpose. So 
 he merely answered, "Very well." 
 
 "I'll be hanged if you seem enthusiastic over it!" said 
 Mr. Dale, speaking now with a smile. "That's a pretty 
 fine bundle of goods for a fellow to get, if you did but 
 know it. Ida always reminds me of a dish of peaches and 
 cream. By gad, boy, you ought to thank me for saving 
 it up for you! Some other chap might have got his 
 hands on it by this time except for my vigilance." 
 
 The young man tried to laugh, if for nothing else, to 
 please the father he loved so much. But the simile of 
 peaches and cream struck him vividly. That was 
 it, peaches and cream, sweet, fresh, ripe and cold. 
 
 An hour later, thinking it best to have the experience 
 over, he was walking across the fields to his neighbor's 
 house. His father's land stretched for a goodly distance 
 over the country, and that of the Bruces covered as 
 great a space immediately beyond it. When the city 
 should grow out in this direction, as the owners had 
 often said, there would be a fortune in this real estate. 
 Not for them they would be numbered with the silent 
 majority but for their children, who were to be united 
 with the land. 
 
 As he approached the Bruce residence, Kingdon saw 
 a fair face at one of the windows, and the waving of a 
 handkerchief in welcome, .Then its possessor disag-
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 29 
 
 peared, with an indication that she would meet him at 
 the door. 
 
 There was nothing surprising in this freedom. As 
 babies they had dug up the graveled walks and pulled 
 each other in little carts. As boy and girl they had gone 
 together to the same school. There had never been the 
 least conventionality between them. Why should there 
 be any now? 
 
 "I wonder if you can guess what I've come over to 
 say?" he asked, a little later, as they were sitting in the 
 library, he with a big staghound at his feet, she with a 
 pet kitten in her lap. 
 
 Now, to make doubly sure there would be no miscar- 
 riage in this affair, Edward Dale had sent a note to Mrs. 
 Bruce half an hour before, outlining the programme of 
 the day, and that excellent lady had given Ida her final 
 directions. But the girl, with a pardonable evasion, as- 
 sumed a look of curiosity, which implied that she had 
 not the slightest idea what subject was uppermost in 
 her visitor's mind. 
 
 "Well," said Kingdon, "I'm going abroad." 
 
 Slightly discomfited by the unexpectedness of the 
 statement, which she had supposed would come later, as 
 an explanation, Miss Bruce colored and could not speak. 
 The young man misunderstood her silence, and thought 
 to himself, with something like alarm, "Can it be that 
 she loves me?" 
 
 "Yes," he continued, "my firm wants me to go to the 
 East on a matter of business, that will take four or five 
 months; and I'm to start in five or six weeks from now." 
 
 Miss Bruce recovered her outward equanimity with an 
 effort. 
 
 "It will be very pleasant for you," she said, with a 
 voice which still had a trace of strangeness in it
 
 30 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 The young man felt again fear that this girl was in 
 love with him very deeply in love and that the 
 thought of parting from him for so long was weighing 
 heavily on her heart. With all his soul he hoped it was 
 not so. However, he went on with the message he had 
 been given hy his father, feeling that nothing was to he 
 gained hy evading the issue. 
 
 "Yes," he answered, "it will be decidedly pleasant. It 
 is the sort of journey I have always wanted to make. It 
 pleases father, too; he regards it as a proof that the firm 
 believe in my capacity. He says there is only one thing 
 more that he wants accomplished before he dies." King- 
 don grew very serious. "He wants to see me married." 
 
 Miss Bruce searched his face so narrowly as he said 
 this that Kingdon was disconcerted. Her serenity 
 seemed to have returned, for she did not flinch as she 
 replied that she appreciated Mr. Dale's sentiments. 
 
 "He says a good wife and a good business are the best 
 things a man can have," pursued Kingdon, "though I 
 believe he put the business first," he added, with a little 
 laugh. He wanted to do something to relieve the strain. 
 "Having settled the business part, the question of a wife 
 comes next. And it isn't a question, either, in my case, 
 for I have never thought of but one woman in that 
 connection." 
 
 He blundered on, thinking that he was not doing it 
 very well, but feeling that the surest way to progress was 
 to keep pushing ahead. 
 
 "Ah!" said Miss Ida. "I suppose most young men 
 have been in love twenty times before they reach your 
 age." 
 
 "Eeally!" he exclaimed. "Their experience must differ 
 widely, then, from mine. I've never been in love at all, 
 tt I understand the symptoms." A spot of red came into
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND, 31 
 
 the girl's cheek and stayed there. "There is one girl, 
 however, who was the playmate of my childhood and has 
 been the companion of my youth, whom I esteem 
 highly, and to whom I should consider it a great honor 
 to be allied. Ida, will you marry me?" 
 
 He looked furtively at her, and saw that she was smil- 
 ing good-naturedly. For a moment she made no verbal 
 reply. 
 
 "Your answer," said Kingdon, calmly. 
 
 "It is 'Yes,' " said the girl. "I will marry you, King- 
 don, and I thank you for the honor your proposal does 
 me." 
 
 It struck him that this was not the usual way this sort 
 of thing was done. He had asked the momentous ques- 
 tion and she had accepted him in much the same man- 
 ner as they might have bargained for a house or a piano. 
 But if it satisfied her it did him. He had carried out his 
 father's wish, that he should engage himself before he 
 sailed for Europe. 
 
 "I don't know much about these matters," he said 
 after taking her hand and giving it a slight pressure, 
 immediately dropping it when this was done, "but I be- 
 lieve the next thing is to inform your mother and my 
 father, and then to send a note to the newspapers." 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 "Manama will see to the newspapers," she said. "It 
 will be all right." 
 
 "And the the time that has nothing to do with 
 this, has it?" he inquired. "It is a matter for future con- 
 sideration?" 
 
 "Perhaps you had best talk that over with mamma," 
 said Ida, the red spot in her cheek dilating a little. "Not 
 now, I don't mean; but some time before you leave." 
 
 Kingdon replied that he would certainly do so, and aa
 
 32 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 there seemed nothing further to say in this connection 
 he began to mention an engagement of another sort that 
 he was obliged to keep and to pull out his watch and 
 inspect the figures. 
 
 Before he had gone, however, Mrs. Bruce came down, 
 attired for a drive, and greeted him. 
 
 "I have a bit of news for you," he said, as soon as he 
 could get a chance. "I I've proposed to Ida, and she 
 has accepted me." 
 
 The mother's arms were clasped around the daughter's 
 form as if in an instinct of protection. 
 
 "Ida," she cried, in suppressed tones, "is this true?" 
 
 For answer the girl hid her face in the maternal 
 bosom, precisely as it had been arranged an hour before 
 that she should do. 
 
 "Well," said the widow, wiping away her tews, "I hope 
 I know you will both be happy. I have seen you to- 
 gether all these years, and I confess the thought has 
 come to me that this might be the result. You are 
 fitted for each other. I do not know any other man to 
 whom I could think of giving my child. Our families 
 have been such friends. It is undoubtedly for the best. 
 Yes, we must look at it that way." 
 
 Kingdon went slowly down the steps, for he had al- 
 ready opened the door when his future mother-in-law 
 appeared. 
 
 "Will you be kind enough to see that it is put in the 
 papers?" he asked. 
 
 "I will attend to it," ihe replied. Then she added, "I 
 trust this will meet with the entire approval of your 
 father." 
 
 "Oh, yes! He will indorse it fully. I know by what 
 lie has already said." 
 
 "Must you go 2" die asked, sweetly.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 33 
 
 "Yes, it is necessary. I have an appointment." 
 
 Kingdon lifted his hat to the ladies and walked rap- 
 idly toward the village. When he was out of hearing 
 Mrs. Bruce had a hurried conversation with her daugh- 
 ter. All that had occurred was narrated to her. 
 
 "And he didn't offer to kiss you nothing of that 
 land?" said the mother. 
 
 "No." 
 
 Mrs. Bruce patted on the head the staghound, who 
 was waiting anxiously for her to start on her ride, that 
 he might have a run with the horses. 
 
 "He is a very regular young man," was the slow com- 
 ment. "He will be a very safe husband for you. He's 
 no fly-away. When does he desire the wedding to be ?" 
 
 "He said he would talk it over with you. To tell the 
 truth, mamma, I don't think he would mind if it never 
 occurred at all." 
 
 "Let -us see," said the lady, ignoring the insinua- 
 tion. "This is December. He will return by May, proba- 
 bly. About September, that is the time. I will see that 
 he agrees to this, as we mugt begin on your trousseau." 
 
 The carriage came to the door, and Mrs. Bruce entered 
 it, while Ida went slowly up the stairs, softly stroking 
 the kitten she still held in her amis.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 "YOU KNOW MY WISHES." 
 
 During the time that intervened before his date of 
 sailing, Kingdon Dale and Ida Bruce indulged in none 
 of the pretty arts known as love-making. Their engage- 
 ment seemed, in fact, to make their conversation more 
 distant than formerly. It was as if some trouble had 
 come between them, something that must be regarded 
 too seriously for gayety. 
 
 Kingdon called several times a week and passed an 
 hour or so in the company of his fiancee. She came once 
 with her mother to his father's house and dined with 
 them. At table the affairs of the young couple were 
 alluded to in a businesslike way, and the date which Mrs. 
 Bruce had fixed for the wedding was brought up with- 
 out exciting a protest from those interested. Kingdom 
 did not see any feasible way to escape the net that was 
 being woven about him, and he thought it wisest to as- 
 sent to the plans that best satisfied his invalid father. 
 
 He had no doubt that he would have to marry this girl 
 Borne time. The elder people had arranged everything 
 thus far, why not let them finish it ? There was the for- 
 eign journey in between, at any rate. That would give 
 him a breathing spell, and a chance to think, untram- 
 meled by his parent's presence. He was like a man in a 
 great crowd pushed along without his own volition. 
 
 Edward Dale bore the pain of parting with his son 
 very well. Now that they understood each other there 
 nothing to fear. If he should die before Kingdoa
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 35 
 
 returned, thought the father, the announced engagement 
 would make everything right. Kingdon was an honor- 
 able young man, who would not break his plighted word. 
 His future was safe. The business talents of his. son had 
 already been recognized. The selection of a wife had 
 been made, a girl not only beautiful and good, but pos- 
 sessed of something handsome in the way of expectations 
 an item not to be despised in these days when dollars 
 and cents count for so much. 
 
 The farewells between Kingdon and his future wife 
 were courteous if not tender. They had a genuine es- 
 teem for each other. Both considered their future con- 
 dition as absolutely settled. They were to live in the 
 closest of relations for perhaps half a century, nobody 
 could say, beginning eight months hence. How fond 
 they would learn to be of each other, time alone would 
 tell. He fancied that Ida was already a victim of a pas- 
 sion which she could not show too plainly while he kept 
 himself so much aloof. She, on her part, considered 
 him one whose affection for a wife would be a matter of 
 slow but constant growth, and was willing to risk that 
 ^consummation. 
 
 "I suppose you cannot tell exactly when you will re- 
 turn?" she said, interrogatively. "It depends on the way 
 your business turns out, doesn't it?" 
 
 "Yes," he replied. "But they think at the office that I 
 can finish everything so as to get here, by the latest, be- 
 fore June 1st, perhaps a month sooner." And he found 
 himself counting mentally, "July is two, August is 
 three, September less than four months after I come 
 home I shall have to go to live with this girl!" 
 
 Then she asked him again, for they had debated the 
 matter several times, where he expected to make his
 
 36 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND, 
 
 stops. He detailed his route as well a he could, and 
 talked of the things he expected to see. 
 
 When his haggage was all packed for the New York 
 evening train, he walked over for his final call, and spent 
 : an hour in saying nothing special. 
 
 "I shall have to go," he said at last, consulting his 
 watch. "It takes time, you know, at the station for 
 checking and buying tickets. Then my dear old dad 
 will have a lot to say at the last minute. So, good-bye." 
 
 He held out his hand, just as he used to do, except 
 with a little more reserve, and Ida took it, pressed it, and 
 let it go, as if it were that of any ordinary friend. As 
 for an embrace, the thought of it never even entered his 
 mind. 
 
 "Let me call mamma," said Ida, detaining him an in- 
 stant. 
 
 "Mr. Dale is obliged to hasten," she exclaimed, as 
 that lady made her appearance. 
 
 She had never called him "Mr." before in her life ex- 
 cept in the presence of itrangere, and he noticed the ex- 
 pression. 
 
 "Good-bye, Kingdon," said Mrs. Bruce, descending 
 the stairs and giving him a warm clasp of the fingers. 
 She would not give him any dignity titles, not she. "We 
 shall think of you hourly, and look for frequent letters. 
 I wish you would cable when you land in England. 
 There is always a peril of the sea, and we shall feel better 
 to hear from you direct." 
 
 "I shall cable to father," he answered, "and I will tell 
 him to send you immediate word. I shall be safe 
 enough. Good-bye, Mrs. Bruce. Good-bye, Ida. If I 
 wait any longer I shall lose my train." 
 
 The two ladies watched him striding across the path 
 in the snow that was always well-beaten between his
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 37 
 
 home and theirs; and when he had disappeared from view 
 they re-entered the house and conversed for the next 
 hour upon the situation. The preparations for the 
 bride's attire entered into the talk to a large degree, for 
 to Mrs. Brace's mind eight months was none too long a 
 period to devote to this important subject. 
 
 "He is all right/' commented the widow, in a satisfied 
 way, as she noted a slight cloud on her daughter's brow. 
 "I'd put my trust in that kind of man sooner than in one 
 of those exuberant fellows who protest their fealty every 
 moment. He is the kind that will wear well. You won't 
 have to fear that some other woman is going to ensnare 
 him the minute he gets out of sight." 
 
 A widow of middle age is supposed to be a shrewd 
 judge of the opposite sex. Whether Mrs. Bruce an- 
 Bwered this description will appear later in these pages. 
 Her assurance certainly pleased Ida, for she rewarded 
 her for it with a most filial kiss and smiled radiantly 
 into her face. 
 
 The parting between Kingdon and his father was a 
 most affecting one. Although the parent suppressed his 
 tenderest sentiments, lest he should inflict pain by being 
 too demonstrative, Kingdon knew well that the separa- 
 tion was full of distress to him. He resolved that he 
 would cut his journey shorter than he had intended, and 
 made a remark to that effect, but Mr. Dale responded 
 that this was what he particularly wished him not to do. 
 
 "It is your first trip abroad," he said, "and it ought to 
 be of great value to you. I only wish I were well 
 enough to go, for I am familiar with most of the coun- 
 tries through which you will pass, and could be of value 
 in pointing out the places of chief interest. Take your 
 time, my dear boy, since your partners are willing you 
 should do so. On your next journey you will, I hope, be
 
 38 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 able to take your wife, and that will add immensely to 
 your pleasures. It is well said that 'Happiness was born 
 a twin.' The rightly constituted man is always happier 
 when he has some one to share his delights with him." 
 
 Kingdon bowed, for he did not feel that his en- 
 thusiasm on this matter was great enough to vent itself 
 in words. 
 
 "And, if anything should happen to me during your 
 absence," added the father, pausing to place his hand on 
 his side, where a sudden twinge had caught him, "you 
 know my wishes. Let them be sacred to you." 
 
 There was a night ride to New York, a trip across the 
 city, and before noon the great ocean steamer had be- 
 gun her journey on the deep. Kingdon felt the exhil- 
 aration of the traveler who has this sensation for the first 
 time. He witnessed the good-byes of the thronging 
 crowds on the dock; the beautiful panorama of land and 
 water; he felt the force of the waves under him, the gen- 
 tle jar of the machinery, the breezes coming cold and 
 refreshing up the Bay. 
 
 He wandered from side to side of the steamer, catch- 
 ing the most interesting of the sights presented. When 
 he responded to the lunch call he found the immense 
 dining saloon sparsely filled for the season was not the 
 most popular one for going East and yet fuller than he 
 ever saw it again until the boaf s prow cut the muddy 
 waters of the Mersey. 
 
 Lunch over, he walked the deck, getting acquainted 
 with several of his fellow-passengers, after the manner of 
 voyagers. They were to be companions for six days, and 
 formal introductions were out of the question in most 
 cases. It was simply, "My name is Jones; here is my 
 card," and "Mine is Dale," and the exchange of a paste- 
 board for the one received.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 30 
 
 Of course, in a world as small as this, numerous mu- 
 tual friends were discovered in the midst of conversa- 
 tion. Dale knew John S. Johnson, the lawyer, who oc- 
 cupied a suite of rooms opposite Jones' brother. And 
 Jones was distantly related by marriage to Gilbert Gray, 
 who married Miss Gladys Newcombe of Chicago, a sec- 
 ond cousin of Dale's. 
 
 The freemasonry of the cigar, which unites most 
 Americans away from home, was brought into requisi- 
 tion. Only the most misanthropic of men can fail to 
 enjoy the society of his fellow-passengers on an Atlantic 
 liner, or any other steamer in the world, where there are 
 people whose language he understands. 
 
 Kingdon was mercifully exempt during the week that 
 followed from anything more than slight qualms of sea- 
 sickness, and kept his feet on all occasions. He enjoyed 
 the trip from start to finish, and was really sorry when 
 the lighter came alongside and conveyed him to the dock 
 at Liverpool. 
 
 It is unnecessary for the purposes of this story to fol- 
 low his movements closely across Great Britain and the 
 continent. Suffice it to say that he had his eyes open 
 and visited as many points of interest as his stay would 
 allow. In due time he took his steamer for the islands 
 where his business affairs led him, reached his port safe- 
 ly, transacted the affairs on which he had come with 
 signal success, and started on his return to Europe ex- 
 tremely well satisfied with the result of his journey. 
 
 Among his fellow-passengers on the return was an 
 English army captain named Leonard Rivers, and his 
 young daughter, a girl of about twenty years of age. 
 Captain Rivers had seen foreign service in many coun- 
 tries and was now making his way home by slow stages, 
 being in a very low condition of health. His real purpose
 
 40 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 was to reach England in time to be buried beneath its 
 sod, for he had a passionate love for the land of his 
 birth, though nearly all his life had been spent in doing 
 her service abroad. 
 
 Kingdon became well acquainted with both of them, 
 and learned to like them well. He passed much of his 
 time on the steamer in conversation with Captain Eivers, 
 whose stories of army experiences entertained him great- 
 ly. He also walked for long stretches of time with Miss 
 Margaret Eivers, her father being unable to promenade 
 the decks, except for a very brief period, and then quite 
 slowly. 
 
 The Captain was not yet fifty, and in a healthy coun- 
 try would probably have been now in the prime of life. 
 He was paying the penalty of tropic suns and a diet that 
 was never made for northern stomachs. It seemed un- 
 likely that he would live another year, and he himself 
 was fully aware of his condition. He talked freely with 
 Kingdon, the burden of his speech being regret at having 
 to leave Margaret without adequate protection. He had 
 never been able to save anything out of his pay, and she 
 would have to depend on the good offices of some distant 
 relations or her own efforts. Tears came to the eyes of 
 the gallant soldier as he rehearsed these things to the 
 sympathetic ears of the American, who did not know- 
 how to offer much consolation in such a very delicate 
 case. 
 
 Margaret Rivers was a good specimen of the whole- 
 some English girl; not what could be called a beauty, but 
 with an honesty and simplicity of countenance that won 
 immediate regard. She was more slender than the type 
 to which she belonged, for we learn to associate robust- 
 ness with the British maiden, who is apt to have a figure
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 41 
 
 modeled after that of Hebe, and to carry the English 
 rose in both of her full cheeks. 
 
 Margaret had spent much of her life in the East, 
 which had reduced her natural weight and lent a pale- 
 ness to her face that did not belong there of right. She 
 was of medium height, with very dark hair and eyes that 
 matched it, neither, however, being black. Her attire 
 was very plain, partly, perhaps, from necessity, partly 
 from choice. A sweet, lovable, trusting and trustworthy 
 girl this is what Mr. Dale decided that she was before 
 he had known her an hour. 
 
 People get to be very confidential aboard ship, espe- 
 cially when, as in this case, they become attracted to- 
 ward each other to the exclusion of all the other pas- 
 sengers. Kingdon had occasion to know that many of 
 the English officers that one meets abroad resemble the 
 simile of Dickens "A retired bulldog on half -pay." 
 The privations of their lives have too frequently soured 
 their dispositions and made them anything but agree* 
 able traveling companions. Captain Rivers had con- 
 served the natural courtesy of his disposition through 
 all. The fact that he was of Irish blood on his mother's 
 side may have had something to do with this. He 
 thanked the American many times for the interest the 
 latter showed in Margaret and was pleased at the in- 
 timacy that developed between them. 
 
 "It's a pity," he said, "that the young should be ham- 
 pered in their movements by the infirmities of their 
 elders. I like to have Margaret walk with her own free 
 step instead of dragging at a snail's pace at my side. I 
 can see that she is looking brighter and better in every 
 way since you took her in charge." 
 
 The couple talked of a thousand things in those long 
 walks she of life in the Indies and in Cape Colony, he
 
 42 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND 
 
 of things American, in which she was deeply interested. 
 She had formed ideas of our country of the most mag- 
 nificent description and had wished very much she could 
 be permitted to see it at some time. That, however, she 
 said, with a sad smile, she would now never be able to do. 
 
 Kingdon told her of his father, of his business, of al- 
 most everything, in short, except Miss Ida Bruce and his 
 engagement to her. He put that out of his mind as 
 much as he could, and thought it the last subject to dis- 
 cuss in the presence of this interesting little woman. 
 
 Going and coming to the spice islands, Mr. Dale was 
 obliged, naturally, to pass through the Suez Canal. On 
 the outward trip he repressed his desire to get a glimpse 
 of the wonders of Egypt, feeling that he ought to attend 
 to the business of his firm before taking any more time 
 for his own pleasure. Before returning, however, he re- 
 ceived a letter advising him to disembark for this very 
 purpose, and spend a week or two at least in the land of 
 the Pharaohs. 
 
 Captain Rivers continued so ill that Mr. Dale made 
 him promise to break his journey when they should ar- 
 rive at Ismalia, and rest over a steamer with him. Know- 
 ing that the financial question was a powerful one with 
 his new friend, he showed him a list of pensions at 
 Cairo in his Baedeker, where for a very slight remunera- 
 tion board and room could be obtained. He also, feel- 
 ing that this would be of great influence upon the father, 
 spoke of the value to Margaret of seeing the Pyramids 
 and the Sphynx. The result was that the Captain agreed 
 to the proposal, to the delight of his daughter, who 
 wanted to go ashore for the double reason, of resting 
 from her journey and of being a little longer in the so- 
 ciety of Mr. Dale, whom she had begun to like exceed- 
 ingly-
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 43 
 
 But it had been foreordained that the English officer 
 was never to see the shores of Egypt with his mortal 
 eyes. The night before arrival Mr. Dale was aroused in 
 his berth by a steward, who said he was wanted without 
 delay by Miss Margaret Eivers. He dressed with the 
 utmost haste and hurried to her cabin, where he learned 
 from a stewardess that Captain Rivers was in the midst 
 of a violent paroxysm, from which the ship's doctor said 
 he was not likely to recover. 
 
 On either side of the now unconscious man the daugh- 
 ter and Mr. Dale passed the rest of the sad night. Noth- 
 ing could be done for the dying, but Kingdon felt that 
 his presence was a material support to the weeping girl, 
 who had no other friend on the steamer. 
 
 When the red sun rose across the wave the exhausted 
 body yielded up the spirit, and Margaret, beside herself 
 with grief, threw her arms around Mr. Dale's neck and 
 sobbed frantically against his bosom.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 MARGARET REFUSES TO LISTEN. 
 
 It is not easy for the average young man to occupy the 
 position of consoler to a pretty girl, in an hour of great 
 grief to her, without going a trifle further than the 
 necessities of the case warrant. Margaret was wild with 
 her loss, and clung closely to the only other friend she 
 had near, in the extremity of her affliction. In com- 
 forting her, Kingdon found himself giving utterance to 
 endearing terms, and even to slight embraces, and the 
 manner in which these manifestations were received en- 
 couraged him to continue them; for who could resist 
 such an opportunity to comfort the sorrowing? 
 
 "Do not sob so violently, my darling!" he would ex- 
 claim. "Remember your father is free now from all 
 the pain and suffering he has undergone." 
 
 "Oh, yes!" was her reply. "But he was my only one. 
 Now that he is gone I feel all alone in the world." 
 
 "No, no; you are not alone, Margaret! You have a 
 friend left still in me. I shall not desert you, dearest. I 
 will see you safe home in England." 
 
 His arms held her close to his heart as he spoke. He 
 was acting the part of consolation with a vengeance. 
 
 "You are so kind!" she murmured. "I don't know 
 what I could have done without you. But (sob) what 
 shall I do in England without my (sob) father? I have 
 only distant relations, and they have cares enough of 
 their own. There is no place left for me, Mr. Dale. 
 England is no longer the happy land of my dreams, sine?
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 45 
 
 he cannot share it with me. There is nothing to attract 
 me there now, more than to any other spot on earth." 
 
 To this he made suitable reply, prophesying that when 
 the newness of her grief was past she would see things in 
 another light. He asked her, as soon as he thought 
 wise, if she wanted her father's hody sent home, offering 
 to make all arrangements. But she said, with another 
 burst of tears, that Cairo was as much English soil aa 
 Devonshire, and that the soldiers' cemetery there was 
 the best place for the interment. They were to arrive at 
 Ismalia the next evening, and Cairo is but a few hours 
 ride into the interior. 
 
 "Besides," she added, with a frankness that was habit- 
 ual with her, "it would cost much more than I can afford 
 to send the casket home. I have talked with him about 
 it many times, and he has said he only asked to lie under 
 the shadow of the English flag." 
 
 Mr. Dale remembered having heard his dead friend 
 make a similar statement, and acquiesced at once in the 
 idea that this was the best thing under the circum- 
 stances. He volunteered to see the authorities and find 
 out exactly what to do. 
 
 "Everything must be plain," said Margaret, trying to 
 wipe the tears from her face. "The very plainest possi- 
 ble. To be honest with you, Mr. Dale, I have not a 
 penny that can be wasted." 
 
 "Excuse me for saying," he replied, "that I shall at- 
 tend to all the financial matters. Captain Rivers was my 
 personal friend, and I wish to pay every expense con- 
 nected with his interment." 
 
 "You ought not to do that," she protested, though an 
 inward satisfaction was manifest at the load it would lift 
 from her shoulders. 
 
 "Why not?" said he. "There is no reason why I
 
 46 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 should not do even more. I can let you hare twenty or 
 thirty pounds for yourself, just as well as not, and never 
 miss it. I would not want you to arrive on English 
 ground with your purse empty." 
 
 But to this she entered an instant demurrer. To take 
 charity from him was the last thing to which she would 
 consent. He put it in the most favorable light he could 
 think of, but she did not swerve. For the father, per- 
 haps, she might allow his kindness; for herself it was not 
 to be thought of. She could reach home with what she 
 had. There would be a small allowance due from the 
 War Department; and then it would be for her to seek 
 employment. Charity she would not accept, and she 
 thought, with a sudden pain at the heart, least of all 
 from him. 
 
 It was no time to urge her, and Mr. Dale dropped the 
 subject for the present. At Ismalia, when he could leave 
 her temporarily, he went to arrange by telegraph for the 
 obsequies, which were taken in charge by one of the offi- 
 cials, to his great satisfaction. He returned to Margaret 
 and told her what had been done, and she rewarded him 
 with a warm clasp of one of his hands in both her own. 
 She had grown much calmer during his absence. 
 
 "How can I ever thank you?" she exclaimed, as he 
 took a place on the sofa, which she made vacant at her 
 side. 
 
 "It is little enough," he answered. "I wish it were a 
 thousand times more." 
 
 "I should have died without you," she murmured, 
 nestling nearer. "You seem to me like a real brother, or 
 what I suppose one would be, for I am an only child." 
 
 It was a bond of fellowship between them when he 
 said that he also had never had brother or sister, and it 
 gave a sort of excuse for the kiss which he pressed on
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 47 
 
 her forehead, pushing back her disheveled hair for the 
 purpose. She continued to hold one of his hands, and 
 the sensation was not disagreeable. But after a little 
 while a sense of the proprieties came over him, and he 
 made an excuse to leave her for the present. 
 
 As he was crossing the hall he met one of the servants, 
 who handed him some letters that had just arrived. One 
 of them was from his father, and this he read first: 
 
 "I am feeling much better of late, and perhaps I shall 
 yet live for years. I think it is on account of my pleas- 
 ure at your prospects, which is the nearest thing to my 
 heart. I have seen a member of your firm, who says you 
 have made a marked success on your trip. Then I re- 
 ceive a call daily from Mrs. Bruce or Ida, when, the 
 latest condition of the bridal trousseau forms the main 
 subject of conversation. Just think how near it is Sep- 
 tember! Ah, you are a lucky young dog, with such a bride 
 in store; so young, so pretty, so good, and a thing not 
 to be despised an heiress to a comfortable fortune. I 
 need not caution you to be most circumspect in your con- 
 duct dmring the remainder of your journey, for a clean 
 record is the best present a man can bring to his wife. 
 Temptations must fail before the prospect of enveloping 
 this superb creature in your arms, such a short time 
 away. Ida says you have written but seldom, but I tell 
 her some of the letters may have been lost, you have 
 moved about so much. Write a little oftener to both of 
 us, but if there is time for only one, write to Ida. She 
 will come over and tell me she has heard from you, and 
 I shall know you are well and safe." 
 
 Kingdon felt a twinge of conscience as he read the 
 loving words. He had not written to his father as often 
 as he ought since since, especially, the date of his 
 meeting with Captain Rivers and his daughter. To Ida
 
 48 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 he had written not more than twice a month, and he had 
 done little then beside telling of the scenes he had 
 passed through, much after the manner of a newspaper 
 correspondent. 
 
 Not once had he given way to an expression of affec- 
 tion, nor had he alluded in the remotest degree to their 
 engagement or approaching marriage. In her answers 
 she had made no reference to these things, either; but 
 it was not to be expected she would do so when he had 
 so studiously avoided the subject. Kingdon resolved 
 that he would write more frequently, in accordance with 
 his father's request, both to him and to Ida. The news 
 of his parent's improved health gave him great delight, 
 and he reflected with pleasure on the nearness to the 
 time when they would again look each other in, the 
 face. 
 
 As soon as he had written and mailed his replies to the 
 firm and to his father, Mr. Dale escorted Miss Rivers to 
 the train, which already bore the body of the dead sol- 
 dier, and they set out for Cairo. The funeral took place 
 on the day after their arrival, the hot weather in that 
 country making delays impossible. The simple military 
 service was read, the salute fired by the squad, and the 
 desiccating soil of Egypt began its work. 
 
 Miss Rivers bore the strain better than he could have 
 expected. She leaned upon him in everything. Not 
 only did she commit to his care the disposition of her 
 father, but of herself. She put her slender purse in his 
 hand with the utmost confidence, saying that he would 
 find the least expensive route for her to take in pur- 
 chasing the tickets for England. 
 
 Believing that a diversion was the best thing for her, 
 he began on the second day after the funeral to take her 
 with him in his drives about Cairo. Together they saw
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 49 
 
 the wonderful works of long extinct men, which have 
 made this vicinity the mecca for travelers of all lands. 
 Together they strolled through the ancient bazars, the 
 mosques, and the beautiful new quarter, fringed by the 
 old, laid out like a piece of Paris itself. 
 
 Their conversation during these days was held in a low 
 key, and those who met them realized that some recent 
 misfortune tempered their steps. It was undoubtedly 
 better to divert the mind of the young girl than to per- 
 mit her to bury herself in her grief. To Margaret the 
 thoughtfulness of her escort was an anodyne of surpass- 
 ing power. 
 
 After studying all the ways that might take one to 
 England, Mr. Dale mapped out a route that would in- 
 clude Malta and Gibraltar. There was no reason on the 
 part of Miss Eivers for haste, and he wanted very much 
 to visit both of these fortresses on his way home. 
 
 The fares to Malta on some of the smaller lines were 
 much lower than those which sailed direct for Brindisi, 
 there connecting with the railways across the continent 
 of Europe, though the latter were by far more expedi- 
 tious. 
 
 He explained the difference to Margaret, who an- 
 swered that she would leave it entirely to him. If he 
 was going in the same direction, she added, with charm- 
 ing naivete, she would certainly prefer that route by all 
 means. 
 
 There was no need to spend a long time at Alexandria, 
 the port from which the start for Malta would be made. 
 A couple of days would suffice for all the sights at that 
 point. So the intervening time was passed at Cairo, 
 which, above all places, holds the attention of the traveler 
 as long as his good fortune permits him to remain. The 
 endless kaleidoscopic display in the streeti entranced
 
 50 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 him the donkey-drivers and their beasts: the camels, 
 bearing brides and burdens; the stately Arabs; the veiled 
 women; the voyagers from all parts of the world in their 
 native costumes; the Saratoga-like throngs at the mag- 
 nificent hotels. Both of the young people with whom 
 we have particularly to deal would have been glad to 
 stay here a month longer, although the last of March had 
 arrived, and the temperature was steadily growing 
 warmer. 
 
 At Alexandria they stopped at the Hotel Abbat, where 
 they had the best meal they had enjoyed for months. 
 The steamer on which they were to sail was the Ar- 
 cadia, a boat that had seen better days, but was still sea- 
 worthy. Upon going aboard Mr. Dale had a moment of 
 heart-sinking at the primitiveness of the arrangements 
 for passengers; but Miss Rivers, who had traveled a great 
 deal, said she was sure they would do very well, and he 
 suppressed the criticisms that rose to his lips. 
 
 A tornado struck the ship soon after getting into the 
 open sea, and continued with unabated force for most of 
 the five days which the voyage consumed. Margaret 
 was as good a sailor as the master himself, Captain 
 Worthington, who seemed to prefer the deck to the 
 cabin, even in the worst of weather. She had not a sin- 
 gle qualm, but Mr. Dale was obliged to lie in his berth 
 or on the sofa in the smoking-room for several of the 
 most tempestuous days. The girl tended him assiduous- 
 ly, and he was hardly sorry for his condition, when it 
 brought him so much kind attention from a companion 
 he was learning to prize so highly. 
 
 He was certainly glad, however, when the great walls 
 of the fortress of Malta broke on his vision, and set foot 
 on shore with as good a will as he remembered to have 
 felt on any occasion.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 51 
 
 Quarters were secured at one of the hotels, and the 
 couple set out to view the island. Famous for its relics 
 of the Knights of Malta, it had a hundred interesting 
 things to visit, both in and out of the capital city of 
 Valetta. 
 
 In the evening they strolled up to the little park by 
 the ramparts, where the sweet peace of nature sits in 
 strange contrast to the deadly preparations for war on 
 every side. There were cannon to right of them, cannon 
 to left of them, cannon behind them, and the silver sea 
 in front. It was plain that nothing but treachery could 
 wrest this iron jewel from the British crown. It could 
 be secured only by such methods as operated in the case 
 of Gibraltar, and in these days that is practically impos- 
 sible. Beneath these guns a hundred merchantmen 
 might rest secure. To possess Malta is to control the 
 Mediterranean. 
 
 Kingdon Dale thought of all these things, and yet at 
 this time he cared little for them. In his brain there 
 had lodged the germ of an idea quite unconnected with 
 anything naval or military. Until lately he had taken it 
 for granted that his acquaintance with Miss Rivers must 
 end in a fortnight, at the farthest. Now he began to 
 mutiny against such a fate, and to say to himself that 
 he could not, would not, endure it. 
 
 "When does our boat go?" she asked, after one of 
 their long silences. 
 
 " There are two boats," he said. " One leaves to-mor- 
 row morning, at a very early hour. I did not think you 
 would care to go on that, especially as I need a little 
 longer rest after my attack of mal de trier" 
 
 " And the next one?" 
 
 " It will be something like a week. I thought, per- 
 haps, you would be willing to remain a little longer 
 rather than leave me here alone."
 
 52 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 " Willing!" she echoed. " It is exactly what I should 
 prefer to stay with you to the very latest mi mite!" 
 
 The tears gushed from her eyes, and answering drops 
 filled his own. 
 
 " Then you don't feel tired yet of my company?" he 
 suggested, in a low tone. 
 
 She bit her lips and stifled the sobs that came to her 
 chest. She shook her head decidedly. 
 
 " Margaret," he said, clasping her shoulders with his 
 arms, " I wish we were never to part!" 
 
 It was an open avowal of what had been in his mind 
 for days, but when he knew the words were uttered he 
 was alarmed at the sound. And his feelings were not 
 lessened in that respect when she turned spasmodically 
 and buried her face against his coatsleeve. 
 
 "My darling," were his next words, "this is a very 
 cruel world. Sit down here and let me talk to you. It 
 can do no harm to hear a little of the truth, unpleasant 
 as the facts may be." 
 
 She obeyed without demur, and sat looking at him as 
 if he were a judge who had her fate in his hands as, 
 indeed, he was. 
 
 " I want you to forgive me in advance," he pleaded, 
 " if anything I say gives you a thousandth part of the 
 pain it gives me to tell it." 
 
 " I am sure," she answered, warmly, " that you are the 
 soul of honor." 
 
 He was not, and her confident words cut him deeply. 
 
 " You shall decide," he said, " when I have finished. 
 I am engaged to be married " 
 
 She drew away from him as if a sword had pierced 
 her side, and started to rise, but he held her down. 
 
 "Not vet," he said. "Listen till I have finished, 
 otherwise the good opinion you have formed of me wili
 
 THETR MARRIAGE BOND. 53 
 
 be ruined, and there will be no pity for me in your 
 heart." 
 
 She gave up the struggle, and, turning her face in an 
 opposite direction, waited for him to proceed. 
 
 " When I was a child, too young to be told of it, my 
 father arranged my marriage. The little girl who was 
 growing up for me had a mother who was equally deter- 
 mined that the match should take place. Between this 
 girl and me there has never been the slightest manifesta- 
 tion of love from that day to this. I have seen her fre- 
 quently; we have been simply friends, no more. My 
 father has been for a long time in a condition of health 
 which makes excitement dangerous. He cannot bear the 
 least opposition without flying into a temper that might 
 easily be fatal. Before I came from home he insisted 
 that I should make a formal proposal of marriage " 
 
 A shiver ran across the young form by his side, and 
 the hand he placed upon her arm was firmly pushed 
 away. 
 
 "A formal proposal," he continued, after a mo- 
 mentary pause. " I had never known what the feeling 
 of love was. I believed myself incapable of that senti- 
 ment. I did not want to marry any one, and but for my 
 filial duty I never would have done so with any person I 
 had then met. But I had tried to be a dutiful son to a 
 father whom I adored, and who has had for years no one 
 to care for but me. I did as he requested. I went 
 through the formalities, to his great satisfaction. Before 
 I left home on my present voyage I had promised to 
 marry this young lady next September. But listen one 
 moment longer, Margaret I never shall marry her now, 
 if I live a million years!" 
 
 Miss Eivers faced about and gazed with distended eyes 
 at the speaker.
 
 54 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 " You will break your word !" she cried, reproachfully. 
 " I did not think that of you, Mr. Dale." 
 
 "My word/" he repeated. "Would you you tell 
 me to link my life to one for whom I have no affection, 
 when there is another who holds my fullest and truest 
 love? Would you" 
 
 She stopped him in his impetuous declaration, rising 
 and standing at his side. 
 
 " One moment," she said, sharply. " Whom do you 
 mean? Who is it that you love like this?" 
 
 " My darling " he answered, in the same strain, but 
 she stopped him again. 
 
 "You refer to me?" 
 
 " Most earnestly and sincerely, yes! " 
 
 ^Then I must ask you to bring your confession I 
 should say, your recital to a close." 
 
 He stared like one drunken. 
 
 " Then you do not care for me at all? " he ejaculated, 
 thunderstruck. 
 
 " You have no right to ask me. You have treated me 
 as a friend, until now as a very sincere one. But to tell 
 me of your engagement to another and in the next 
 breath to say you love me that is a very near approach 
 to insult." 
 
 Against this he protested with all his might, refusing, 
 in spite of her urging, to be silent. 
 
 " To tell you the truth is to lose your esteem, I see," 
 he said, in conclusion. 
 
 " You may still retain that if this matter is allowed to 
 end here," she replied. " If you persist in saying any- 
 thing more to me that I do not wish to hear I shall bid 
 you good-bye." 
 
 He was still for some seconds, and when he spoke it 
 was desperately, like one who has received a tenibla 
 blow.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 55 
 
 " You shall not say good-bye to me," he faltered, " un- 
 til your boat or mine bears us out of the sight of each 
 other. If you insist I will say nothing more in relation 
 to you. But let me repeat that I shall never marry the 
 lady to whom a mistaken sense of duty made me give my 
 promise. I will refuse to blight two lives hers and 
 mine. I know now what is to I mean that I can con- 
 ceive no greater sacrilege than to wed where I cannot 
 love, to join my life to one woman when my heart, my 
 very soul is Margaret, you are too hard! I cannot de- 
 fend myself when I am hampered in my phrases." 
 
 He waited, hoping for some remission of her com- 
 mand, however slight, but she did not speak. 
 
 " It may seem to you that I am wrong," he said, im- 
 pressively. " But if you had promised to wed a man 
 and found that all your love had been stirred into life 
 by another, can you conceive anything worse than to 
 enter upon a life of falsehood merely because of a prom- 
 ise made in an unguarded hour ? " 
 
 She stood before him with an expression of sympathy 
 and grief written on her countenance. 
 
 " I am no casuist," she answered. " I only know that 
 promises of marriage are meant to be kept. I under- 
 stand the pain of which you speak. For I, too, have had 
 ' all my love stirred into life/ and yet I would not take 
 one who belonged to another, though my loss hurried 
 me, as perhaps it may, to the grave." 
 
 " Margaret! " he cried, springing to his feet. 
 
 " Not another word, I pray you," she protested. " I 
 have borne all I can. If you are the friend I believe you, 
 let me go for the present. I wish to lie down I must 
 have rest." 
 
 Bowing profoundly, and with a strange mixture of 
 sensations in his brain, Mr. Dale walked dizzily from her 
 room.
 
 56 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 "THEN I MUST LIVE SINGLE." 
 
 Kingdom Dale walked up and down in his chamber for 
 hours, turning the matter over in his mind. He had 
 never met a girl he liked so well, never one for whose 
 close acquaintance he cared. She had said, almost in so 
 many words, that all her love had been stirred into life 
 by him. Was her sentiment of his duty to Ida Bruce to 
 wreck the ideal life that might come to him and to Mar- 
 garet? She was unreasonable in the high estimate she 
 put upon such an engagement as his. 
 
 No, he would not let her destroy his hopes and wreck 
 her own life into the bargain. He would save her from 
 herself, if there was any way to accomplish it. 
 
 And there was a way; there must be one, with so 
 much at stake! 
 
 His head was very hot. He bathed it from the ewer 
 that stood in his room. He brushed his hair carefully 
 and looked at his reflection in the glass. He saw the 
 perturbed countenance, the heavy eyelids, the set mouth. 
 And beyond it all he saw the features of the woman he 
 adored. 
 
 He would not let her force him into a course so hate- 
 ful, unless her will was stronger than his. 
 
 Miss Rivers kept to her room the whole of the even- 
 ing, and he strolled discontentedly up and down the 
 steep streets, and in and out of the military club, to 
 which he had been introduced by his consul. Before go- 
 ing to bed he smoked innumerable cigars and read a lot
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 57 
 
 of old newspapers, until he knew their contents by heart. 
 During the night he awoke a dozen times; and when he 
 slept his dreams were filled with visions of Margaret, al- 
 ways trying to escape him, hut frustrated each time be- 
 fore she quite succeeded in getting away. 
 
 He was hanging about the hotel disconsolately when, 
 to his surprise and joy, a waiter came to say that Miss 
 Eivers wished him to call on her as soon as he could find 
 it convenient. Not pausing a second he ran upstairs, 
 three steps at a time, to her apartment, and answered 
 her " Come in !" without a moment's delay. 
 
 Before he could speak a word, she exhibited a letter 
 she had just received and began to talk about it. 
 
 " I wish, in the first place/' she said, tremulously, " to 
 beg your pardon for troubling you with more of my 
 affairs. But I have no one else now here or perhaps 
 elsewhere." 
 
 She paused, and he saw that something agitated her 
 extremely; something, he rightly conceived, that must 
 be contained in that letter. 
 
 " I hope I need not say," he answered, " that I am 
 now and always at your entire service." 
 
 " Oh, but this is beyond your power, or any one's, t 
 remedy!" cried Margaret, with a sob in her voice that 
 she was trying her best to choke down. " I I cannot 
 tell it to you; read it for yourself." 
 
 She thrust the missive into his hands, and, rising, 
 went to another part of the room, where she threw her- 
 self, in a burst of tears, upon a sofa. 
 
 Much distressed at her attitude, but hampered by the 
 restrictions she had placed upon him yesterday, he re- 
 frained from following her, and began to read the letter 
 that had caused the trouble. First he scanned the en- 
 velope, which had an English stamp and bore a post-
 
 58 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 mark indicating that it was mailed in a town in Derby- 
 shire. 
 
 " My Dear Niece/' it ran, " Your letter informing us 
 of your father's severe illness, and the probability of his 
 early demise, has filled us with deep regret. I wish it were 
 possible for me to invite you to visit us, or to make your 
 home here, should you be left an orphan, but such is not 
 the case. My daughter's husband has recently died, and 
 she, with her three children, are now living entirely at 
 my charge. The house is literally full, and my purse is 
 feeling the severity of the drain as well. I gather from 
 Leonard's letters that he is near the end, and have tried 
 to think of some way to aid you, but it is impossible. 
 My advice is for you to go straight to London and seek 
 employment. You must not be too particular. Do the 
 best you can, and when you are settled write me again. 
 
 " Nettie sends love. Your affectionate aunt, 
 
 " MYRA SWAIN." 
 
 The words of this epistle were blurred before the eyes 
 of the reader, as he realized what a pang they must have 
 given to that slender, sobbing figure; but with this 
 thought came another that caused his heart to swell. 
 In this desperate position, might not Margaret relent a 
 little in her attitude toward him? 
 
 " You were so severe last night," he began, " that I 
 hardly know what I may be allowed to say 
 
 She roused herself and presented her wet face for his 
 inspection. 
 
 " Do not allude to that, I beg," she said. " This letter 
 makes me sufficiently miserable without recalling the 
 pain that conversation gave me." 
 
 " But I am left perfectly helpless," he protested, " to 
 offer you any assistance or advice unless you indicate 
 that I shall not receive another dismissal before I can ex- 
 plain myself. I told you last night how dear you were
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 59 
 
 to me don't speak, I am not trying to repeat it, but 
 only to remind you where I stand. You have refused to 
 listen to the proposal of marriage I was about to make, 
 or to anything that connects our future beyond the next 
 few days. I would like to help you in a pecuniary way, 
 if you will permit me. Beyond that I see nothing that it 
 is in my power to do." 
 
 She heard him with a trembling of the lips, and a 
 going and coming of the color in her cheek. 
 
 " Oh, if you could comprehend," she cried, " what a 
 true friend I think you, and how impossible it is that I 
 should take a penny of yours, which it is unlikely I 
 could ever return! That note of my aunt she is an 
 aunt by marriage only leaves me a beggar. I have 
 money enough to reach her home, and I had hoped that 
 through her influence I might be placed in some menial 
 position where I could at least earn my bread. That ex- 
 pectation is at an end. All that is left for me is to go, as 
 she advises, to London, and seek in that immense city a 
 chance to wrest a crust from a million others as needy, 
 perhaps more so than I. I wish I could keep from 
 telling you this it breaks my heart to parade my pov- 
 erty but there is no one else in all the world to whom 
 I can speak, and I must unbosom myself or die." 
 
 He told her she was quite right to confide her trouble 
 to him, and that she might rely upon his sympathy and 
 consideration to the fullest extent. He could not see, 
 however, why she should object to a gift of money, 
 which he could spare as well as not, and which it was 
 very evident she would need. 
 
 "Can't you can't you understand that?" she asked, 
 earnestly. " Not even when I have confessed that I love 
 you with all my soul? I could go to the strangers in this 
 hotel, perhaps to the passengers on the steamer that
 
 60 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 takes me to England, and tell them my story, with an 
 appeal for help. But not to yon! I would rather starve 
 here in Malta than accept anything from your generous 
 hand. Can't you understand that? Can't you?" she 
 repeated, gazing at him, with parted lips. 
 
 " I must admit that I cannot," he responded. " Here 
 is the situation as it appears to me: I have a certain sum 
 of money which I can spare; you, through no fault of 
 your own, are in need of it; what is wanted is the simple 
 exchange of that sum from my pocket to yours." 
 
 She rose, took a few steps across the room, and sat 
 down in a chair near the window. 
 
 " But this money," she said, " you would not give to 
 every applicant who might be in my situation. You offer 
 it solely because of your unusual affection for me. Is it 
 not so?" 
 
 His answer was delivered in a tone which showed his 
 impatience, though he tried hard to conceal it. 
 
 " I do not know in what school you were reared," he 
 said, " but your points are more intricate than any I ever 
 before heard. If a friend who cares very much for you 
 is not to be permitted to render assistance, who is? 
 Should you persist in maintaining this attitude you will 
 add a deeper pain to the one you gave me yesterday, and 
 possibly live to repent it." 
 
 " I was reared in a school," she answered, " that 
 taught me to avoid everything which strikes a direct 
 blow to my pride and my sense of justice. If I was sure 
 to return this money to you, I would accept it as a loan, 
 with many thanks. But I see no way in which I can do 
 so. In all the sky there is no ray of sunlight for me. I 
 have been educated in a manner that will spoil me for a 
 servant. My father's income, while small, has enabled 
 us to live independently. My manners are not sufficient-
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 61 
 
 ly humble for a lady's maid, or even a governess of chil- 
 dren, should I be lucky enough to draw so grand a prize 
 in the lottery of London life. If I take your money I 
 shall merely spend it in trying to prolong for a few weeks 
 an existence which has lost its charm/' 
 
 His position was a difficult one. He could not put his 
 arm about her now, as he had done when her father died 
 and press a kiss of friendship on her forehead. She had 
 withdrawn from all that peremptorily. 
 
 " I have even been thinking," she continued, after a 
 pause, " that it is useless for me to leave this place. My 
 means will last longer if I remain, and the chance of 
 employment in some one's kitchen is as good here as else- 
 where." 
 
 He told her she distressed him intensely by these state- 
 ments, and again pressed upon her the reasonableness of 
 accepting a loan or a gift from him. He professed to be- 
 lieve that her prospect of repaying it was as good as that 
 of the average borrower. But he did not convince her. 
 
 " There is another thing I would suggest," he said, 
 when the right opportunity seemed to have arrived, " if 
 I were sure you would consider it in its true light. In 
 the firm of which I am a partner there are several girls 
 always employed, at writing and keeping accounts. If 
 you will go to America I will guarantee you a permanent 
 place, with a salary three times as large as you could ex- 
 pect in England the same that is paid to others of your 
 intelligence and capacity," he explained, as he saw her 
 doubting expression. " To advance you the price of the 
 voyage is nothing more than has been done in such cases 
 a hundred times, a mere business affair. If you refuse 
 this I shall not know what to think of you." 
 
 She listened with the utmost attention, and then de- 
 clined the offer without delay.
 
 6$ THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 " Unreasonable as it may seem to you, I mnst refuse," 
 she said. " But I will be perfectly fair and give the 
 cause. In your office I should perpetually be brought in 
 contact with you should see you, at least, passing in 
 and out of the place. I should see your wife, perhaps, 
 and by-and-by your children. No, Mr. Dale, I have not 
 strength enough to bear it." 
 
 "Because you love me?" he asked, incredulously. 
 
 " Because I love you," she said, with fervor. " I am 
 'willing to say so, as often as you wish. There is no 
 wrong to your betrothed in doing this, so that I hold fast 
 to my determination not to cheat her out of her rights. 
 I have to think," she continued, ecstatically, " of what I 
 should suffer if I were engaged to you, and she came be- 
 tween us. To my mind it is worse for a man to violate 
 his betrothal vows than his marriage ones. There are 
 remedies for wives, but none for sweethearts. I think of 
 that young lady, with her wedding gowns partly made, 
 the congratulations of friends constantly arriving, the 
 sweet dreams of maidenhood tinctured with the fore- 
 shadowed future. To rob her of her bliss would be worse 
 than murder. And if I were to accompany you to Amer- 
 ica, in your present state of mind, you would persist in 
 your rash resolution to break that girl's heart, hoping 
 that I should, after all, relent. It is only by separating 
 yourself from me entirely, losing my address, having 
 me vanish utterly from your knowledge, that you will 
 find it possible to go to the altar in September, according 
 to your solemn promise." 
 
 Kingdon was amazed at the openness of her declara- 
 tion. She admitted her love for him as freely as if it 
 were not outside of all conventionality. 
 
 "Forgive me if I inform you once more," said he, 
 " tbt whether you leave me or not I will nerer "
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 63 
 
 She shook her head, to show that he must not finish 
 the sentence. 
 
 "If you said that a thousand times it would not 
 change me." 
 
 " Then I am to live a single life, always? " he said, 
 interrogatively. 
 
 " No; you are to act the part of an honest man, and 
 carry out your obligations." 
 
 She was very intense. The strongest hope and belief 
 that she would do as she said shone in her eyes. 
 
 " So help me Heaven ! " he began. 
 
 " Do not finish it! " she cried. " You can do few fa- 
 vors for me now, and I plead for this one." 
 
 He had never seen any one so decided, and was puz- 
 zled what course to adopt. 
 
 " What else can I do for you?" he asked, desperately. 
 
 " I do not know yet," she replied, hesitatingly. " I 
 will try to tell you to-morrow." 
 
 Then she asked him if he could take a walk with her, 
 without alluding to any of the subjects they had been 
 discussing. He promised, eagerly, and they strolled 
 where everybody in Malta strolls along the fortifica- 
 tions.
 
 64 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE DANGERS OF LONDON. 
 
 There was nothing in the personal appearance of Miss 
 Rivers to indicate the extremity of her fortunes. She 
 wore the plain mourning which she had donned for her 
 father. She remained at a good hotel. The story which 
 she had told to Mr. Dale, of the letter from her English 
 aunt, was unknown to any one else in Malta. 
 
 There was staying in the house an army officer and his 
 wife, Col. and Mrs. Wainwright, and Margaret had held 
 several talks with the lady. On the evening following 
 her walk with Dale, she sought Mrs. Wainwright with a 
 definite purpose in view. The Colonel's wife had been in 
 London, had passed much of her life in that city. She 
 ought to be able to impart information of the kind that 
 Margaret most needed. 
 
 She found Mrs. Wainwright alone, her husband hav 
 ing gone to the club, and at once spoke of the subject 
 nearest her heart. 
 
 " I have just heard of a case in which I am much in- 
 terested/' began Margaret, "about which I want your 
 advice. I have a young friend who has been left penni- 
 less by misfortune, and who is now in the Southern part 
 of Europe, uncertain what move it is best to make. She 
 has been advised to go to London and seek employment. 
 She is fairly well educated, and has been reared like any 
 other young lady of the middle class. She could teach 
 children, or perhaps assist, if nothing else offered, in the 
 care of a house. She has not a single acquaintance in the
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. W 
 
 city, but thinks her prospects there better than in a for- 
 eign country. It is a desperate case. With your knowl- 
 edge of London, what do you advise me to write her? " 
 
 Mrs. Wainwright looked deeply interested. 
 
 " How old is your friend? " she asked. 
 
 " About my age." 
 
 " Is she good-looking?" 
 
 Margaret reddened slightly. 
 
 " Passably so," she replied, lowering her eyes. 
 
 " And unsophisticated, of course." 
 
 " She is unacquainted with the world, if that is what 
 you mean. She has never had any responsibility outside 
 of her own home." 
 
 The lady shook her head slowly. 
 
 " It is a sad thing to say, Miss Rivers, but the chances 
 are all against the success of your friend. I mean to tell 
 you the truth. If she were a farmer's daughter, with 
 sturdy limbs and a capacity for hard work, she might 
 get a place in a shop, a kitchen or a factory. If she were 
 B graduated teacher there would be a possible chance in 
 a school, though all of these lines are fearfully over- 
 crowded. But being what you describe her, the en- 
 couragement is small, indeed. London is a great grist- 
 mill. It grinds out both wheat and chaff. I am 
 ashamed to say it, but the most probable result of your 
 friend's going there without protection is starvation, or 
 a moral catastrophe." 
 
 Margaret looked up with frightened eyes. 
 
 " You mean " she began. 
 
 " Exactly. The tragedy is repeated daily. The hon- 
 est, well-meaning girl comes to London. At first she 
 searches diligently for such a place as she would like to 
 find. In a few days she lowers her ambition and only 
 asks for any honest means of getting her bread. Her re-
 
 66 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 sources grow slender and slenderer. Hunger begins to 
 seize her. The rent of the poor room she has occupied 
 becomes due. Some evening she is accosted upon the 
 street by a man who has noticed her despondent air. He 
 offers warmth to the cold bod}-; food to the starving stom- 
 ach. There is no alternative but death, from which the 
 young spirit shrinks, even in its adversity. She goes 
 with him, and from that hour her descent is rapid. I do 
 not need to dwell upon it, but it makes me say to every 
 such girl, ' Keep out of London/ " 
 
 Margaret shivered from crown to toe. She imagined 
 herself already at the dire extremity mentioned, with 
 the frightful alternative before her own eyes. 
 
 " Keep out of London." That was very well to say; 
 but if out of London, where then? Was there any spot 
 on earth where the poor girl of good parentage could 
 find a living? 
 
 " I should say to such a girl," continued Mrs. Wain- 
 wright, kindly, "seek your relations, however humble 
 they may be. Put up with a lowly home, make your lot 
 with the poorest, but never go alone to London. Find a 
 husband among the laborers or mechanics, forget that 
 you were ever in a different rank, devote yourself to your 
 family as it comes. But never, never, never go to Lon- 
 don!" 
 
 Margaret knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that the 
 lady had penetrated her secret, and felt that she was ad- 
 dressing the " friend " whose situation had been un- 
 Teiled to her. The voice of Mrs. Wainwright was more 
 than kind; it was sympathetic and deeply earnest. 
 
 " There surely must be a possibility of a better fate in 
 that immense place," murmured Margaret, confusedly. 
 
 " Yes. There is a possibility that the purchaser of a 
 lottery ticket will win, the capital prize, but half a mil-
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 67 
 
 lion other investors only lose their money. Listen, Mise 
 Rivers: I knew personally of a girl who went to London, 
 and became, after many vicissitudes, the wife of a noble 
 and honorable man. But hear through what she passed 
 in the meantime. She tried as hard as any one ever tried 
 to find work at anything, she was not particular what. 
 
 " One day a finely dressed woman took her from an 
 employment office to her palatial home. She was given 
 a pleasant room at the top of the house, and fell asleep 
 with a prayer of thankfulness on her lips that she had 
 found at last the shelter and food she sought. An hour 
 later she was awakened to discover that a man was in 
 her chamber, and when she uttered a scream he told her 
 that no sound could pass the walls. It was one of 
 those traps of which so many abound in London, and 
 she was as helpless as a fly in the spider's web." 
 
 The lady paused, breathing heavily, as if her story 
 brought back a reminiscence she could hardly endure. 
 
 " And you knew this girl you saw her afterward? " 
 exclaimed the horrified listener. 
 
 "Ah, yes! I knew her, and still know her well!" 
 was the reply, delivered in a tone of the greatest in- 
 tensity. 
 
 "And you say that, after this experience, she still 
 found a husband?" 
 
 "Yes. After this and twenty more. For she was 
 kept a slave in that house for long weeks. The bloom 
 fled from her cheeks. She could not eat more than 
 enough to keep life in her. Half her waking hours 
 were passed in tears. She lived in constant dread of 
 what each minute would bring forth/ 7 
 
 Margaret listened with fascination. The story was al- 
 most incredible to her young brain, but it bore the im- 
 press of truth, and she did not doubt it
 
 68 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 " How did she escape? " she asked, breathlesely. 
 
 " I will tell you. Among all the men that visited that 
 house in two months there was just one who learned of 
 this girl's situation into whose heart there came a manly 
 impulse. He was an officer of Her Majesty, but that was 
 not it; several of the girl's assistants had shown their 
 uniforms in the room. He had come to the house to 
 while away an evening, and the prize on the upper 
 floor was offered him. He had no intention of taking 
 advantage of her situation, but was resolved to save her 
 from it if she proved the unwilling occupant of the 
 house which she was represented. 
 
 "Paying the money, he was given the key of her 
 chamber. When he entered she was sound asleep, so 
 exhausted by her fears and trials that she did not hear 
 him. Locking the door he knelt by the girl's side and 
 gazed for a long time at her pale and wasted features/' 
 
 The Colonel's wife could not control her voice as she 
 came to this pathetic part of her story. Tears rolled 
 down her cheeks, and Miss Eivers could not help weep- 
 ing with her. 
 
 "When many minutes had passed/' continued Mrs. 
 Wainwright, when she could speak, "and the girl did not 
 awaken" the tears flowed faster "he began to kiss her 
 cheek, gently, reverently, pityingly. 
 
 "Her eyes opened, and she saw only one of the sex 
 she had learned to fear and to hate. Springing up, she 
 was about to renew her long-continued struggle in a 
 hopeless cause, when she heard a soft voice bidding her 
 have no alarm. Gaining confidence slowly, she told her 
 sorrowful story to this man, on whose face she soon saw 
 signs of the deepest indignation. He found, by further 
 questions, that she had no friends in London, and, In-
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 69 
 
 deed, none on earth to whom she could with confidence 
 appeal. 
 
 " ' Do you wish to leave here? ' he asked. ' Oh, how 
 earnestly!' she answered. 'If I will take you at once, 
 will you go with me?' said he. '"Where?' 'To my 
 apartments.' The alternative was not agreeable, but es- 
 cape from this fearful den was to be accepted at anj 
 cost. 
 
 "1 have no clothes/ she stammered. 1 will wrap 
 my topcoat around you/ he said, 'and take you in a car- 
 riage.' 'They will not let us go.' 'I will brain any one 
 who tries to stop us.' Afraid to depart, not willing to 
 stay, she gave a trembling consent." 
 
 There was now no question in Margaret's mind that 
 she was listening to a bit of autobiography. The ex- 
 citement with which the lady related the history was too 
 pronounced for any other hypothesis. 
 
 "The greatcoat was wrapped around the girl, who had 
 the air of a winter's night to face. Then the gentleman 
 am I not justified in calling him one? rang the bell. 
 A masculine servant who answered was pulled inside the 
 room by a firm hand and ordered to do as he should be 
 bidden under penalty of a sound drubbing. 
 
 " It was now three o'clock in the morning, and the 
 house was still as death. Only the man who had an- 
 swered the bell was on duty. To make resistance less 
 likely, the officer gave the fellow five sovereigns, which 
 he put in his pocket, promising implicit obedience. 
 
 " Taking the girl in his arms she was no heavy bur- 
 den for his strong frame the gentleman followed the 
 servant down the long stairs, the heavy carpets giving 
 forth no sound. Reaching the door on the street level, 
 he gave a last whisper of warning to the man, and passed 
 Justilj into the street, The snow, was falling slowljr.
 
 70 'THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 Luckily a carriage happened to be passing, and he placed 
 his burden inside. Giving a direction to the driver, he 
 followed immediately, and the hateful residence where 
 the girl had been incarcerated was speedily left behind." 
 
 The relief at this stage of the story was plainly shown 
 in the face of the lady relating it. Again Margaret felt 
 sure she was telling a tale of her own experience. 
 
 "But, the marriage? " she asked, for she could not for- 
 get this important matter. "How was it brought 
 about?" 
 
 " I am coming to that," said Mrs. Wainwright. " Ar- 
 riving at the gentleman's residence, the girl was carried 
 directly to his rooms, which were handsomely furnished, 
 besides being of a delicious warmth, refreshing after the 
 cold night ride. The situation was most embarrassing. 
 Now that the excitement of the escape was over, the girl 
 began to feel the shame of her new position. 
 
 " But the hero of this story relieved the girl's mind at 
 once. * I shall have to leave you now/ he said, * as there 
 is not room enough for both of us here. Go to bed with- 
 out fear the key is on your side of the door and sleep 
 as well as you can till morning. When I arise, for I shall 
 be in another part of the house, I will send you a maid, 
 who will take your orders for breakfast. Later in the 
 morning I will get a dressmaker to take a list of the 
 clothing you need, and have the most important articles 
 provided at once. When you are ready to see me I will 
 call again, say at six this evening. After that your move- 
 ments shall be for yourself to decide.' ' ; 
 
 Miss Rivers hung on each word of the singular nar- 
 rative. 
 
 " Before the girl could speak, the officer had taken his 
 departure. The events on the following day were car- 
 ried out as he had planned. At six o'clock he called, and
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 71 
 
 was received in a fitting costume, which had been hastily 
 fashioned over from a ready-made stock. With all the 
 politeness imaginable the gentleman asked if he might 
 order a dinner for both sent up, and the request was 
 granted. To each attempt on the girl's part to utter 
 thanks, and they were many, he raised a silent but ex- 
 pressive dissent. He wished to find what desires she had 
 for the future, and to continue to aid her in that di- 
 rection so far as lay in his power. 
 
 " She timidly revealed her situation homeless, 
 friendless, but for him, hopeless without his aid. Be- 
 sides, though she did not tell him in set phrases, she 
 loved him already. Yes, with all the fervor of her 
 young heart! To be separated from him was like going 
 to death. She could not think of any future in which 
 he did not form a part. And yet how could she dream 
 that he, the polished army officer, would see anything to 
 attract him in the poor girl whose past two months had 
 been filled with a succession of horrible events such as 
 should arouse loathing in the breast of any decent per- 
 son?" 
 
 All that had passed through the mind of the unfor- 
 tunate woman was mirrored again upon her counte- 
 nance. 
 
 " With a delicacy that cannot be described, the gen- 
 tleman met the situation. He said to the girl that she 
 could remain where she was until she could think of 
 something more agreeable, and to her statement that 
 she had nothing with which to repay the expense of her 
 maintenance, he answered that this was a matter that 
 need not trouble her in the least." 
 
 Miss Eivers shook with a slight attack of ague. She 
 knew, as well as if the first person had been used in the 
 recital, that Mrs. Wainwright was speaking of herself.
 
 72 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 "At the end of a few weeks," continued the Colonel's 
 wife, "be asked her hand in legal marriage. She gave it 
 to him, and since that day there has been no happier 
 wedded couple in the world. 
 
 "But this was a great exception to a terrible rule. 
 Had he never seen her she would have been kept a few 
 weeks longer in her prison room, and then, despairing of 
 any other fate, would probably have accepted a place 
 among the painted women who lived below without re- 
 straint, and gone to the end of the career thus opened. 
 
 " Go to London! Penniless, friendless! Tell your girl 
 friend to go to the grave, rather! " 
 
 Col. Wainwright returned at this juncture, and Mar- 
 garet made a closer inspection of him than she had 
 hitherto done. The whole scene of his meeting with his 
 wife came vividly before her mind's eye. She saw him 
 stoop and kiss the face held up to him, with the courtly 
 fashion that had been so well described. 
 
 A few minutes later she excused herself and went to 
 her lonely room. 
 
 To London? No, she conld not go to London. Where, 
 then? It was a dreadful problem, and she fell asleep 
 some hours later without solving it.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 75 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 GORDON OCCUPIES HIS TIMES. 
 
 
 
 Gordon Hayne was a rich young man. He had in- 
 herited a fortune from his grandfather that had grown 
 rapidly in the hands of honest and astute trustees during 
 his minority. In the eyes of the world he was a lucky 
 young fellow, and one to whom fate had brought only 
 good. But if it was very clear that he had no habits 
 that would be called dissipated, it was equally certain 
 that he devoted himself to no serious object. He did 
 not drink to excess, nor gamble, nor squander his money 
 in any manner; on the other hand, as has been intimated 
 in the first chapter of this storj 7 , he had an attraction to- 
 ward women that had coupled his name with a number 
 of scandals occurring in and about .Boston. 
 
 Mrs. Walden Bruce had heard rumors of these things, 
 and had taken some pains to inquire about them; but 
 had found no proof that Mr. Hayne was guilty in a sin- 
 gle instance. No direct charge had been brought against 
 him by any aggrieved woman or her friends. The prin- 
 cipal thing said was, whenever there was a new instance 
 of frailty to be discussed, " Isn't that the woman Gordon 
 Hayne has been calling on so frequently? " Or, " You 
 remember her; she was with Mr. Hayne in a box party at 
 the Boston Theatre when Patti was last there." 
 
 Mrs. Bruce had known the Hayne family from her 
 girlhood. She did not mean to put the seal of her dis- 
 approval on Gordon, with all that would imply, unless 
 was something tangible against him. So she con-
 
 Y4 THEIR MARRIAGE BOWD/ 
 
 tinued to invite him to her receptions, and even to dine 
 with herself and daughter at occasional intervals. 
 
 He was an attractive man to women, certainly. With 
 his handsome face, his polished manner, and a certain 
 boyish impetuosity for his twenty-four years, he was 
 liked by all of his acquaintances. In the presence of 
 Mrs. Bruce he was courtly, deferential, scrupulous. 
 Never did he descend in the slightest degree to familiar- 
 ity, although she did everything to make him feel fully 
 at home. When Ida alone was in the room his manner 
 changed a little, and became one of a sort of devotion, 
 still well within the range of courteous propriety. There 
 had long been that in his attitude which implied more 
 than ordinary liking, and yet the sentiment that seemed 
 to animate him had never been put into definite words. 
 It was believed by most of those who knew him that he 
 was not a marrying man; that his attentions to any mem- 
 ber of the fair sex were not the prelude to an intended 
 declaration of a desire to wed. 
 
 Gordon knew, for instance, of the popular supposition 
 that Ida and Kingdon Dale were destined for each other, 
 long before the date at which our story opened. He was 
 <a friend of both parties; he made no move to prevent, 
 the consummation of the plans concerning them. He 
 went about with Kingdon, in the city and at his home, 
 and believed in his heart that he was Mr. Dale's most 
 esteemed masculine friend. 
 
 And yet, whenever Gordon was alone with Ida Bruce, 
 there was something in his actions which said, as plainly 
 as words, " I envy that fellow; 3 shall never know what 
 it is to IDC perfectly happy again if you carry out this 
 scheme of becoming his wife." 
 
 Gordon Hayne is a type that will be recognized by all 
 who are familiar with the social life of this generation.
 
 THEIR MARJUAGJE BOND. 75 
 
 It is a type that does more harm, perhaps, than the out- 
 and-out roue, whose reputation is undisputed, and who is 
 yet admitted to the best society and has an opportunity 
 unsurpassed to plant his dangerous seed. 
 
 On the evening of the reception at Mrs. Bruce's, to 
 which allusion has been made, Mr. Hayne was in a state 
 of mind into which he frequently worked himself. He 
 was wildly jealous of his friend, Dale, on account of the 
 pretty piece of feminity, with which the latter's name 
 was constantly allied. 
 
 He regarded Ida from all corners of the rooms in 
 which the reception was held. It seemed to him that she 
 was a thousand times more lovely that night than he had 
 ever imagined her. He marked the brightness of her eyes, 
 the softness of her expression, the grace, the ineffable 
 grace, of her pose. He followed with greedy eyes the 
 outlines of her superb form, which the past few years 
 had constantly rendered more and more alluring. He 
 noticed with what discretion and taste she was garbed, 
 no woman in the house approaching her in that respect, 
 though many had ten times the cost of her clothing upon 
 them. 
 
 Several times, overcome by his emotion, Mr. Hayne 
 wandered to the side of the fair girl, and exchanged a 
 word or two with her. The feeling that possessed him 
 was made apparent to her quick mind in every tremor of 
 his tones, in every lineament of his face. He loved her! 
 It could make no difference in her life, for her husband 
 had been selected from her cradle, but she felt deep 
 sympathy for a man whose estimate of her charms was 
 thus plainly portrayed. 
 
 She had had occasion before to feel a strange thrill at 
 a stray word from his tongue, a random look in his coun- 
 tenance. It is in the nature of a young woman to like
 
 76 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 admiration. Ida was too inexperienced to estimate this 
 particular article at its true value. She did not know 
 that while Gordon Hayne allowed himself the supreme 
 luxury of his misery, he would not have married her 
 then had the opportunity heen presented to him. 
 
 No, he used often to say to himself, he was not going 
 to be tied to any woman, however much he might like 
 her. It was his dearest pleasure to make a woman 
 feel that she had made an impression on his heart that 
 would be indelible, and to know that he had made an 
 answering one on hers. 
 
 He had a list of women who blamed themselves for 
 inflicting ruin on his life who said in their hearts, 
 " Poor fellow! If I had used him better he would be a 
 different man. He ought not to be blamed for anything 
 he does, since it was his love for me that unbalanced 
 him!" 
 
 There were married women, too, who used to dream of 
 this pretty boy, perhaps at that moment tearing his hair, 
 metaphorically, in rage at the happiness of his success- 
 ful rival. Their hearts saddened as they thought of the 
 cruelty they had shown to him, when, as a plain matter 
 of fact, a steam-engine could never have drawn an offer 
 of legal marriage to one of them. 
 
 But they felt what he wanted them to feel; and when 
 he met them their regrets were accentuated by discreet- 
 ly veiled allusions to the past, or glances arrested just 
 when about to be shot into their bright eyes. 
 
 It was a favorite amusement of this man to visit the 
 Braces frequently after Kingdon Dale went abroad. He 
 generally called first at the house of Mr. Dale, Sr., who 
 was very glad to see him, as, indeed, he was almost any 
 friend, in the lonesome condition in which his infirmi- 
 ties and his son's absence left him. Sometimes Gordon
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 77 
 
 took lunch with that gentleman, and then strolled over 
 to Mrs. Bruce's at three or four o'clock, remaining to 
 dinner, as he was always importuned to do. 
 
 He had no regular occupation, and the usual business 
 hours of men of his age put no hamper on his move- 
 ments. Coming from Mr. Edward Dale's, the conversa- 
 tion "between him and the widow reverted naturally to 
 Kingdon, and in her presence there was no indication of 
 the real reason that accounted for his call. He was 
 known to be an intimate of young Mr. Dale, and one who 
 had the pleasure of frequent letters from him. 
 
 The fact that the traveler wrote less frequently to his 
 fiancee and that the letters received by her were much 
 briefer than would have been expected was never di- 
 vulged. Mrs. Bruce had settled it in her own mind that 
 the marriage with her daughter was something that 
 could not be set aside, and that time would bring the 
 young couple into the harmonious relations that are 
 supposed to, and sometimes do, follow that ceremony. 
 She had counseled Ida to await the result with patience, 
 and, being so completely under the influence of her 
 mother, the girl was doing very well in this regard. But 
 in the absence of her future lord, it was agreeable to have 
 so often the society of one whose manners were delight- 
 ful, whose conversation was pleasant, and whose admira- 
 tion for herself was kept within the limits of decorum. 
 
 Gordon was so veil known as the particular friend of 
 her engaged lover that his presence in the house, or in 
 the walks which they took together in the neighborhood, 
 could not excite the faintest criticism in the breast of the 
 most particular Grundy among her set. 
 
 Several times he came out in the evening, and brought 
 Sidney Brooks with him. Gordon had divined that Miss 
 Ida possessed more than usual interest for the young at-
 
 7^ THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 torney. Brooks was such a very virtuous fellow, and so 
 diffident in the presence of women, that it was a pleasure 
 to watch him under these circumstances. The slightest 
 direct question hrought a color to his pale face that 
 was worth seeing. Sidney's usual role was that of the 
 silent listener, and when he was forced to take part in 
 the conversation, with Ida as another participant in it, 
 Hayne declared to himself many times that it was quite 
 as good as a play to see him. One of these evenings Sid- 
 ney found courage to speak of his own accord, and to an- 
 nounce that it was his intention to take a business trip 
 to Europe the following week. 
 
 Now, to Gordon, Brooks was only a briefless barrister, 
 who managed in some mysterious way to pay his office 
 rent and to live in a desolate pair of rooms in an inex- 
 pensive part of the city. It therefore interested him un- 
 commonly to learn that some person thought enough of 
 his abilities to intrust a mission of this kind to his care. 
 He pumped the facts out, discovering that a corporation 
 of prominence was the principal in the affair, and that 
 the matter related to a patent which was being inter- 
 fered with by a German concern. 
 
 Mrs. Bruce, who had had a liking from the first for 
 Brooks, expressed her congratulations in a charming 
 way, remarking that he must feel highly pleased at being 
 elected in a case which was plainly one requiring un- 
 usual tact, while Ida smiled the same sentiment without 
 opening her pretty mouth. 
 
 "Oh, it's just because I happen to be a bit of a 
 linguist, I guess,'* stammered Sidney. " It will be nece?- 
 sary to speak German, Italian and perhaps Spanish, and 
 our leading lawyers are seldom equipped with those 
 qualifications." 
 
 "But where the clickens did yon learn those Ian-
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 79 
 
 guages?" asked Hayne, with undisguised frankness. ** I 
 never knew that you could do anything of the kind." 
 
 " Why, I spent two years in Buenos Ayres," was the 
 reply, " and it is almost impossible to live there without 
 acquiring Spanish and Italian. The German I picked 
 up largely by myself, together with French." 
 
 " We never shall know," laughed Gordon, addressing 
 the ladies, "the full extent of this man's erudition. 
 I am constantly being surprised at something about him. 
 I don't think he can have much to learn. But a fellow 
 who hides in his rooms or his office and sticks to his 
 books must acquire an awful lot of wisdom in time." 
 
 There was a quiet ripple around the party at this sally, 
 and then Mrs. Bruce remarked that it was possible Mr. 
 Brooks might meet Mr. Dale while away. 
 
 " I hardly think it likely, but I should be glad to hope 
 so," said Brooks. " If I happen to get anywhere in his 
 vicinity I shall certainly go out of my way to meet him." 
 
 The talk here wandered to the road that Kingdon had 
 taken and the possible routes by which he would return. 
 Hayne, it was clear to Sidney, knew more of these things 
 than did either of the ladies, and he drew some con- 
 clusions from this fact. He drew more yet from his ob- 
 servation of the standing which Hayne had in the house- 
 hold, but not being able to grasp the character of his 
 friend fully his knowledge of social life being limited 
 he understood the situation imperfectly. 
 
 If Brooks had definitely diagnosed the case as it lay in 
 his mind, he might have concluded that Gordon had 
 offered his hand to Ida at some time in the past and been 
 refused; or that he would have done so but for the 
 knowledge that this would be the result. As to the con- 
 duct of Mr. Dale, there was a mystery that he could not 
 fathom, and which he waited patiently for the future to
 
 80 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 reveal. Not that he was inquisitive about it, but it in- 
 terested his mind, naturally given to weighing evidence. 
 And, besides, in an honorable, high-minded way that 
 belonged to his nature, he was much interested in Ida 
 Bruce. 
 
 Once or twice he found himself alone with her, and, 
 although he had a fear, of the species called "stage 
 fright," he kept the knowledge of his alarm from her en- 
 tirely. She could not have comprehended how any man 
 in the world could hold her in awe. Mr. Brooks was 
 somewhat older than she, and much wiser. He was a 
 little odd, to be sure, and perhaps not much accustomed 
 to the society of women; but beyond this no special im- 
 pression was made on her mind. 
 
 As to Gordon Hayne, Ida thought of him a great deal. 
 He managed to make her believe him unhappy, and to 
 blame herself in an indefinite way as being the cause. 
 He also enlisted her sympathies by vague allusions to the 
 absent lover, and expressions of dumb wonder that any 
 man who had the happiness to hold her promise of mar- 
 riage could let a mere business reason tear him from her 
 side. 
 
 Gordon did not say this in so many words. It was not 
 his method. He only let her know that he felt it that 
 it gave him pain that it passed his comprehension. 
 
 And she thought him very kind, and that his repres- 
 sion of what was blighting his life evinced the most re- 
 markable fealty to his absent friend. 
 
 Ida might have learned to love Mr. Hayne in which 
 case, had marriage been the question, he would certain- 
 ly have found meana to terminate the acquaintance but 
 that she was a good girl, who implicitly obeyed her 
 mother. Mrs. Bruce had settled upon the man her 
 daughter was to wed, and the idea of departing from
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 81 
 
 the programme never occurred to tlie younger woman. 
 It was rather dull waiting for Kingdon, it raight be 
 duller yet when she had achieved him; but 2ier path was 
 plainly marked out for her.
 
 THE1K MARRIAGE BONO. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 "KISS ME, KINGDON!" 
 
 Knowing nothing of what was passing in the mind of 
 Margaret Rivers, Kingdon Dale went to his sleepless bed 
 that night, and tossed restlessly for hours. He 
 felt the time drawing near when he must either bid a 
 final adieu to the girl he had come to love so dearly, or 
 secure her company a little longer by a subterfuge or di- 
 rect deceit. A day or two was the limit of their close ac- 
 quaintance unless he could arrange some plan to retails 
 her. 
 
 The next morning Margaret surprised him by saying 
 that she had concluded not to go to England. He stared 
 at her stupidly, for he knew no other course open, un* 
 less she was to accept his proposal to visit America; but, 
 he said nothing, for in her statement he saw a gleam of 
 light along his own path. 
 
 Where was she going, then? he asked her. And she 
 replied, as calmly as she could, that she was going to 
 Gibraltar, where she knew several people, with whom 
 ehe intended to make a short stay. 
 
 "But after that?*' he asked, with clouded brow. 
 <f You will not stay forever at Gibraltar. Oh, Margaret! 
 if you would only do the wisest thing, and go to America 
 with me!" 
 
 She regarded him with piercing eyes, and his gaze fell 
 before their fires. The wisest thing? Could he honest- 
 ly maintain that it was the wisest thing for her to take 
 that long journey with a chance acquaintance met on
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. S3 
 
 shipboard with all the risks that it implied? Still, on 
 the other hand, what could she do if she remained in 
 Europe? He tried to argue to himself that the one 
 course was at least as likely to benefit her as the other. 
 
 " I will go with you as far as Gibraltar/' she said, gen- 
 tly. "I will see my friends there; and then we will 
 talk about the rest." 
 
 It was at least something. He was not to lose her 
 quite as soon as he had feared. There would be a few 
 more days for them to be together, and, perhaps who 
 could say? she might change her mind. The spirits of 
 the young man rose perceptibly. Margaret was going to 
 take another journey with him under his protection. 
 She would leave her past life there in Malta, and begin 
 an essentially new one on the steamer that sailed toward 
 the west. There would be several days in which they 
 would be alone together, and in that time he could bring 
 all his influence to bear. He accepted her decision with 
 joy, and, as there was no longer occasion for delay, he 
 went at once to the steamship office and bought two 
 tickets for Gibraltar. 
 
 When he returned, and she took out her slender purse 
 to repay him, he said she had best wait until they were 
 on board, jokingly remarking that there were other little 
 bills he would have to settle for her, like the conveyance 
 of herself and her boxes to the boat. He wanted to say 
 something to brighten her cheek a little, and, indeed, his 
 own. The gayety of his spirits was tempered by the 
 nearness of the time when he would have to set his face 
 toward the setting sun, and breast the waves of the At- 
 lantic alone once more. 
 
 Among their acquaintances at the hotel, Mrs. Wain- 
 wright was one of the kindest in her expressions when 
 they came to say good-bye. She drew Margaret aside
 
 84 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 and again warned her against letting her " friend " go 
 unprotected to London, seeming much pleased when the 
 girl replied that she should advise her not to go there 
 under any circumstances. She asked questions about 
 Mr. Dale, with a roguish look, intimating that the liking 
 between the young people was stronger than that of or- 
 dinary fellow-travelers. And, although Miss Rivera 
 shook her head decidedly, the Colonel's wife murmured, 
 "A husband like that is what an orphan girl like you 
 needs most. Don't be foolish, my dear child, or too 
 backward, if such an opportunity comes your way." 
 
 With her head full of matrimonial ideas, she also 
 found time to say to Kingdon, " What a lovely little lady 
 Miss Rivers is! I congratulate you on making this short 
 voyage with her. Were I a man and single I would make 
 it a much longer one, if I could." 
 
 He wished for the moment that they had another week 
 at Malta, for he might have told his story to Mrs. Wain- 
 wright, and enlisted her efforts in his behalf; but the 
 steamer was about to sail, and everything had been sent 
 on board. He entered the carriage with his companion, 
 and they were driven down the steep street to the water- 
 aide. An hour later the steamer was headed for the 
 southernmost point in Spain, and he had Margaret en- 
 tirely to himself. 
 
 The three days between the two great naval stations of 
 the British Empire in the Mediterranean were passed in 
 the quietest manner by the young couple. Nothing in 
 the way of further entreaty that Margaret should ac- 
 company him to the United States passed Kingdon's 
 lips. They said remarkably little to each other, in fact, 
 although they were hardly separated during the voyage, 
 except in their sleeping hours. 
 
 But one thought was in both their minds they
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 85 
 
 dreaded separation, and wished there was some feasible 
 way to prevent it. 
 
 Margaret thought also, frequently, of the tale the 
 Colonel's wife had told about the girl who went to Lon- 
 don. She did not dwell so much on the experiences of 
 the month or two when she was held a prisoner, but on 
 the night when her handsome cavalier came to her 
 rescue. She saw the officer, in her mind's eye, kneeling 
 by the bedside, kissing the tearstained cheek so gently 
 that he did not disturb the slumbers of the tired girl. 
 She saw her wrapped in his greatcoat, folded in his arms 
 and carried shoeless and stockingless out into the wintry 
 night. 
 
 There was something fascinating in the story to the 
 daughter of Captain Eivers. If all men were like Colonel 
 "Wain wright! she thought. 
 
 Marriage was never as interesting as untrammeled 
 love, certainly not in novels, of which Margaret had read 
 many. Nobody cared to tell of the days spent in the 
 harbor after an exciting voyage had finished. There 
 were the risks of the sea, of course, the danger of the 
 waves and storms, while the harbor, landlocked and 
 calm, brought safety to every passenger. But the free- 
 dom, the exhilaration, the excitement these belonged 
 to the open ocean! 
 
 Mr. Dale had not heard the story that proved so inter- 
 esting to his fair companion, but he was trying to weave 
 one of his own, with her as the central figure. He did 
 not know very well how to do it. He realized that each 
 revolution of the ship's propeller carried them nearer the 
 shore where, according to their present plans, they must 
 separate. What would be the future of each of them 
 when leagues of salt water rolled be.byen? For her it
 
 86 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 could not be very bright; for him the outlook was ex- 
 ceedingly dismal. 
 
 " I wish you would let me talk about myself a little," 
 he broke out, on the last evening before they reached 
 Gibraltar. 
 
 "About yourself?" she repeated. 
 
 " Yes. About my unhappy engagement, which I have 
 determined, whatever you may do, to break." 
 
 She let him finish the sentence, and when he paused 
 for an answer she did not speak. 
 
 " It is cruel to treat me as you are doing, Margaret," 
 he protested. "You have taught me to love you, and 
 yet you intend to drive me to a marriage I had regarded 
 with dread even before we met. I am thoroughly in 
 earnest in what I say. If I never see you again after I 
 leave Gibraltar, if I never hear whether you are dead or 
 living, I will not marry Ida Bruce! I think it would be 
 a crime." 
 
 Again he was not interrupted, much to his surprise. 
 He had hurried in his speech, thinking that she would 
 refuse to let him finish. 
 
 "Your father?" she said, simply. 
 
 " There is a limit to filial obligations," he replied. " If 
 my father bade me put my arm in the fire, or swallow a 
 deadly poison, would it be my duty to obey? I have re- 
 belled against this plan of his for years, and now I sim- 
 ply cannot carry it out. I love you, Margaret, and you 
 alone. Without you life will be barren and bitter. I 
 will not make it unbearable by marrying another whom 
 I actually dislike." 
 
 There was a pause, during which Miss Rivers' gaze 
 was fixed on a point far out at sea. 
 
 "Inclination and duty frequently conflict in this 
 world/' said Margaret, at last. " Is it not possible that
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 87 
 
 in thinking of this matter you overestimate your dislike 
 to Miss Bruce? Possibly, thrown together as closaJy as 
 we have been, you also overestimate ' your fondness for 
 me. And, between these two, it is more than probable 
 that you think too lightly of your duty to your father. 
 Besides this, there is your fiancee to consider. Her en- 
 gagement to you is announced. Her wedding clothes" 
 the sweet voice began to tremble "are being made. 
 Can you comprehend the blow to her if you violate your 
 promise now?" 
 
 He was plunged into the deepest gloom by her ex- 
 pressions. All of these things had passed through his 
 mind more than once; but arranged in order and by her 
 they had new and more terrible meanings. 
 
 " It only presents itself to me in this light," he said: 
 " Should one completely ruin his life because he has 
 made a rash and foolish promise?" 
 
 " If the breaking of that promise ruins the lives of 
 others yes," she replied, gravely. 
 
 " Oh, it is well enough to say that, and it sounds very 
 noble," answered Dale, " but one has to be in this posi- 
 tion before he realizes what it means." 
 
 She put a hand frankly into his and turned her eyes 
 full upon him. 
 
 " I know what it is, and I am doing precisely what I 
 ask you to do," she said. " My life is ruined if you go 
 out of it. Yet I say to you, be true to your plighted 
 word, though it breaks my heart and yours." 
 
 He took her hand and clasped it close in his own. It 
 was dark and no one was near them on the deck. There 
 was a deliciousness about the contact that he could not 
 resist. 
 
 " There is one other chance," he whispered. " What 
 if I went to her and told her that I did not love her
 
 88 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 that I knew we should never be happy together? If she 
 released me then, would you still refuse me?" 
 
 In the long pause that followed he could hear the 
 splashing of the waters about the steamer's sides and the 
 rustle of the sails overhead. 
 
 " She never would release you!" cried Margaret, with 
 a gasp. " No woman who had your promise to wed her 
 could give you up!" 
 
 . It was ecstasy mixed with pain to hear her talk thus. 
 t " If you were in her place, and knew I never should 
 love you, would you not let me go?" he asked. 
 
 " Not for worlds present and to come!" she answered, 
 fervently. 
 
 He trembled before her earnest avowal. 
 
 " Think it all over," he continued. " A husband who 
 felt aversion for you, who adored another " 
 
 "But he would be mine!" she interrupted. "No, I 
 am sure I would not surrender you, and I believe, as 
 time passed on, I should be able to make you forget the 
 absent one." 
 
 " Ah," he cried, " you do not know me!" 
 
 "I am afraid," she smiled, sadly, " you do not know 
 yourself." 
 
 It was hopeless to alter her decision, but he breathed 
 a blessing on her head when she put his hand to her lips 
 at parting for the night, and kissed it warmly. 
 
 The next day they would be at Gibraltar, and perhaps 
 before another night his steamer for the west would 
 bear him away from her. That kiss on his hand waa the 
 sweetest memory he could take with him. 
 
 At daylight they sailed into the harbor, and Mr. Dale 
 found Margaret already dressed and on the deck when he 
 went up to view the fortress and the town. Hotel people
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 89 
 
 who came on board told him the boat in which he ex 
 pected to leave the place had not yet arrived, and was not 
 expected till the day following. He thought Margaret 
 seemed as pleased as he when he brought her this news, 
 and he wished with all his heart that she was not so 
 stubborn in her ideas. It was arranged that they should 
 go together to the Eoyal Hotel and take breakfast, after 
 which she would make inquiries for the friends of whom 
 she had spoken. 
 
 " One suite, I presume," said the hotel clerk to Dale, 
 as the couple stood together at his counter. 
 " No, two," said Kingdon, reddening. 
 "I beg your pardon," was the reply, as the natural 
 mistake was corrected. He had supposed them married. 
 "Have them near together, if possible," said Miss 
 Rivers. 
 
 Her companion started with astonishment at the sug- 
 gestion. 
 
 " Certainly. Connected, if you like," said the affable 
 clerk, who now thought he had hit upon the right re- 
 lation of the parties. They were, of course, brother and 
 sister. 
 
 " That will be best," came from the girl's lips, and a 
 second shock thrilled the young man's nerves. 
 
 "Twenty-seven, twenty-eight," was the direction 
 given to the bellboy, and the couple were shown to some 
 pleasant rooms on the second floor. 
 
 Ashamed of the thoughts that followed this simple 
 conversation, Dale drew himself together, and began to 
 discuss the usual things which interest travelers in a 
 town new to both of them. From the windows of his 
 parlor they could see the street, the harbor, the ships at 
 anchor and in motion. From hers, as they soon found, 
 the frowning walls of the great rock were visible. He
 
 90 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 wandered with her through the two suites with a freedom 
 that she seemed to encourage, talking of the strength 
 of the fort, the size of its armament, the value it was to 
 England, and the manner in which that nation obtained 
 possession of it. Soon, however, a lad came up to say 
 that breakfast was served, and they went down together 
 and partook of chops and coffee, like two sworn com- 
 panions who had no differences. 
 
 " I will ask at the office for the address of your friends 
 here, if you will give me their names," said Dale, when 
 they had once more reached their rooms. "And, much as 
 it is against my desire, I will go with you when you seek 
 them out." 
 
 He had found a new courage, and he wanted to avail 
 himself of it while it lasted. 
 
 But, to his surprise, Miss Eivers responded that she 
 was in no haste; that later in the day would do quite as 
 well; and that she had rather sit there in his parlor with 
 him and inspect the sights outside. Not displeased, he 
 took a seat by her on a sofa which she had turned to 
 command the view, and discussed it with her in low 
 tones. Imperceptibly his arm stole around her form, 
 and when he attempted a half apology, saying that it 
 might be the last day they would ever be together, Mar- 
 garet seemed not to hear him or to notice what he was 
 doing. She talked rapidly, and moved closer until there 
 was no more room to annihilate. 
 
 " That is a French ship," he was saying. " Do you 
 not see the tricolor? And that is a Russian see the 
 enormous guns she carries. And that 
 
 A head lay on his shoulder, and an arm drew his face 
 downward. 
 
 "What do we care for ships?" said a petulant voice. 
 "What are their flags or their guns to us? Kingdon, 
 kissmel"
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 91 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 TWO ROOMS CONNECTING. 
 
 The day passed away and the evening came; and still 
 Margaret said nothing about the friends she had de- 
 sired to see. At noon, when a callboy knocked, to ask 
 what they would have for lunch, they looked surprised. 
 They did not want anything. It was quite too soon to 
 think of food, after their late breakfast. Why, the idea 
 was absurd! In a moment more they had forgotten the 
 disturbance, and it was only when the shades of night 
 reminded them of the waning day that the thought of 
 dinner entered their minds. 
 
 To both of them the day had been the most perfect 
 one of their lives. Wrapt in thought and conversation, 
 lost in each other, no dark forebodings harassed their 
 minds. Kingdon had for once laid his worries about Ida 
 Bruce completely aside. Margaret had put far from her 
 the black page in her life that yesterday had seemed so 
 near. 
 
 For him, during those moments, there was no father 
 to chide, no fiancee to gratify. For her there was no 
 past, no future, nothing but the delicious present. It 
 was the fullness of love, pure and sweet, between per- 
 sons of youth and health and intelligence. 
 
 It had not the delirium of passion, but possessed the 
 indefinable charm of undisturbed serenity. 
 
 When the sun had sunk so low that they could not 
 see each other's faces, Margaret was the one to suggest 
 that the lamps be lighted. He responded softly that he
 
 92 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND 
 
 would see to them presently, for he dreaded being, even 
 for so brief a period, from her side. He could not think 
 of anything terrestrial. The dream in which he in- 
 dulged was so beautiful he could have wished it to last 
 forever. But the callboy broke in upon them for the 
 second time, with his knock on the door, thinking, 
 doubtless, that the interests of the hotel demanded that 
 people should give him a dinner order, when they had 
 not had a mouthful to eat during the day. And the 
 happy lovers laughed gayly as they reflected that a diet 
 of kisses alone cannot sustain life beyond a certain space 
 of time. 
 
 " Eat! Yes, I suppose we must," said Kingdon, when 
 he had sent the boy away, with directions to return in 
 ten minutes. " It seems ridiculous, though. I never 
 was less hungry. Look over this bill of fare, my dear, 
 and tell me what you will have." 
 
 Miss Rivers did not know what she would have. She 
 said, with him, that she had not a particle of appetite, 
 that it would be quite the same to her if dinners had 
 never been invented. She looked over the items on the 
 list, and ended by declaring that one thing would suit 
 as well as another. 
 
 " Get anything you please," she said. " I will try to 
 help you eat it." 
 
 He decided on the articles, announcing them aloud to 
 her, and she smilingly said they would never be able to 
 eat half of them. Then he wanted to know whether she 
 would dine in the general room, or have the meal sent up 
 to his parlor. 
 
 Suddenly her face paled. The story of the Colonel's 
 wife, that had lain dormant for hours, came back to her. 
 The girl kidnapped in London had taken dinner in her 
 lover's rooms the night of her rescue. What might hap-
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 93 
 
 pen to her after this man sailed was something Mar- 
 garet could only think of with dread. While he re- 
 mained she would have him near her, at any cost. 
 
 "Have it sent up here," she stammered; and while 
 he was giving the order she wiped a few tears from her 
 eyes that came there in spite of her. 
 
 It was nearly an hour before the meal arrived, but 
 they thought it less than a quarter of that time. The 
 waiter spread it appetizingly on a centre table, and they 
 began to eat and talk, as if no one but themselves were 
 there, finding, to their surprise, that they were rather 
 hungry, after all. During the absences of the attendant, 
 Kingdon allowed his hands to stray across the table and 
 envelope those of his companion. He was still in a daze, 
 as far as the outer world was concerned, and she was 
 in nearly the same condition. 
 
 What was most astonishing was the amount they were 
 eating. From the first course to the last they did full 
 justice to the viands. 
 
 There were wines, too, with the various courses, and 
 they were not neglected. When the waiter had gone for 
 the last time, Kingdon took up one of the cigars he had 
 brought, bit off the end, and was about to light it, when 
 he threw the match aside, exclaiming, " How careless of 
 me. I had forgotten you!" 
 
 She laughed at the idea, declaring that she liked to- 
 bacco smoke, and that she would be best pleased if he 
 would go on. When he demurred, she lit a match her- 
 self and put it to the weed, breathing in the fumes he 
 soon emitted, as if they were ambrosia. 
 
 "Could this only last forever!" whispered the trem- 
 bling mouth between his salutes. 
 
 " It can!" he cried. "It shall! Forever? Yes, and a 
 million years after!"
 
 W: THBIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 Her thought had stirred in him for the moment the 
 memories of the past, but he refused to let them blight 
 his happiness. He had never been so near heaven. He 
 had never dreamed that such bliss as this was vouchsafed 
 to mortals. 
 
 The hours passed. At last, still the one to think, she 
 asked him what time it was. 
 
 "I do not know," he cried, gayly. "And I do not 
 care." 
 
 "I am afraid," she said, softly, "it is time to sepa- 
 rate/' 
 
 " And I am sure," he answered, " that it is time to re- 
 main together." 
 
 She sat still for a few minutes, and then she spoke 
 again. 
 
 " Oh, Kingdon! What if they were to come before 
 morning and say your steamer had arrived ?" 
 
 He laughed aloud. 
 
 " I should tell them to let it go on again." 
 
 "Without you?" 
 
 " You may be sure." 
 
 " But there is not another for two weeks," she said, 
 her voice trembling. 
 
 " I would not care if there were none for two years," 
 he answered. 
 
 She did not mean to let him neglect his duty, at what- 
 ever cost to herself, but she thrilled with delight to hear 
 him speak thus. It added another joy to his stay with 
 her, though it might give another pang to the hour of 
 parting. 
 
 " You know," she said, with a gasp, " what must be 
 the end of all this?" 
 
 " There will be no end," he answered, smiling. 
 
 "Oh, yes!" she said. "There will be an end, and
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 95 
 
 very quickly, too. We have gone too far already. When 
 your steamer comes you must join it. To do otherwise 
 is to pursue a course you would regret all your life." 
 
 "It has not come," he laughed, "and we need not 
 talk about it till it does. Why should we waste these 
 precious moments in forebodings? Margaret, tell me 
 once more that you love me!" 
 
 Did she need to tell him that? she murmured. Could 
 he doubt it, when he remembered where he was? 
 
 " And yet you mean to send me from you, some time 
 within a day or two, at most, and never see me again?" 
 
 She cried out in pain at the blunt statement, but she 
 nodded assent. 
 
 " Well," said he, "I love you, too, and I refuse to go 
 without you. If I take that steamer, you will take it 
 with me. Since you are so anxious I should not neglect 
 my duty, I leave it to you to make me fulfill it." 
 
 Each sentence was punctuated with kisses, and his 
 mood was joyous. He refused to think of any parting 
 from her. 
 
 "What are you going to do?" he added. "Have you dis- 
 covered some new way to make your fortune? Let me see 
 how rich you are." He took her purse from the mantel, 
 where, after the manner of women, she had laid it. 
 " Bah!" he cried, sweeping the odd sovereigns and shil- 
 lings into his pocket, " you haven't a penny. You are a 
 beggar. In a week after I leave you will be dying of 
 starvation." 
 
 He meant all this in a spirit of jocularity, but the 
 words had a terrible meaning to Margaret Eivers. The 
 small sum she possessed would have lasted her but a few 
 weeks at most, and then what had she to expect but 
 starvation, or 
 
 Eising before her mind was always the story of the
 
 96 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 Colonel's wife, the fate that lay open to a friendless girl 
 with physical attractions. It might not be the horrors of 
 an imprisoned room, but it must be the giving of one's 
 self in exchange for the means to sustain existence. 
 
 "Please put my money back," she said, entreatingly. 
 "Put it back, and let me settle with you now for the 
 ticket you bought in Malta and the hotel charges here." 
 
 He laughed so loudly that she feared he would attract 
 attention from other persons in the house. 
 
 " You are a bankrupt," he answered. " You are un- 
 able to settle your debts," (he spread open the empty 
 purse) " and must be sold under the hammer. I shall 
 not admit other bidders I know too much for that I 
 am going to have you at my own price. How much shall 
 I offer?" He placed one foot in a chair, and, taking up 
 the empty purse, assumed the attitude of an auctioneer. 
 " Well, I will start it at my life, my love, my hand in 
 marriage, my true devotion as long as I live." 
 
 At the close, Kingdon seemed impressed by the sig- 
 nificance of the words he had uttered so lightly. He 
 threw himself on his knees before the girl and covered 
 her hands with kisses. 
 
 " Ah, Margaret," he cried, " how can you let me keep 
 up this farce? To leave you is to go to everlasting mia- 
 ery! To bear you with me, as my promised wife, is to 
 open the gates of paradise. I must save you from your 
 own rashness. I must refuse to let you perpetrate your 
 folly. Let us end this suspense here and now. Tell me 
 you will be mine!" 
 
 The lightning-like change in his manner, as well as the 
 impetuosity of his expressions affected Miss Rivers pow- 
 erfully, but she would not surrender. 
 
 * If you speak like this, there is but one course open
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 97 
 
 to me," she replied, tearfully. " I must bid you good- 
 night and good-bye." 
 
 He rose moodily to his feet, as erect and almost aa 
 pale as a statue of marble. 
 
 " Very well I" he said, huskily. " If it is to be, let it be 
 now. If you are resolved to doom me to lifelong tor- 
 ment, I may as well understand it to-night as later. 
 There is no new argument that I can offer." 
 
 Taking a handful of money from his pocket, much 
 more, he was sure, than he had abstracted from her 
 purse, he stuffed it into that receptacle, and went to the 
 other side of the room. He seemed to be waiting for 
 her to vacate the apartment, 
 
 " Good-bye, my my friend," she whispered, when 
 five minutes had passed and he did not stir. 
 
 " Good-bye," he replied, shortly, without turning his 
 head. 
 
 "Won't you shake hands with me?" she whispered, 
 after another long pause. 
 
 "No!" he exclaimed, turning fiercely toward her. 
 Then he melted a little at sight of the pathetic figure, 
 and added: "I can't, Margaret; don't you see I can't? 
 I must compose myself or I shall go mad! Unless un- 
 less," he said it entreatingly, "you will change your 
 mind." 
 
 It was the girl who turned this time, more to hide the 
 gush of salt drops to her eyes than for any other reason. 
 A moment later she had taken the few things belonging 
 to her and left the room, through the door that con- 
 nected her apartment with his. 
 
 Mr. Dale drew a long breath, and sank wearily into a 
 chair. He pulled out a cigar and began to fill the room 
 with smoke. Finding that this did not steady his 
 nerves, he got a strong glass of liquor from a bottle that
 
 98 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 the servant had left and drank it. Ten minutes later he 
 rang and asked the callboy to find out whether any- 
 thing had yet been heard of the American steamer. 
 While the lad was gone he busied himself with his bag- 
 gage, tossing things into the trunk and bags recklessly. 
 This done, he took paper and pen and wrote the name 
 of Miss Eivers on an envelope, into which he put fifty 
 pounds of English money, with this line: " Take it. You 
 will need it some time." 
 
 The boy returned with the statement that no news of 
 the steamer had been received. She could not now 
 enter and leave port till some time on the following 
 morning. The gentleman could sleep undisturbed, with 
 the assurance that he would be called at any hour he 
 might name. 
 
 " Sleep!" 
 
 Much sleep he was likely to get, in his state of mind! 
 He told the boy that he did not need to be called. He 
 wished heartily that the boat had been in the harbor, 
 and that he could have gone on board of her. It was 
 simply unbearable in that hotel, with the cause of all 
 his woes separated from him only by a brick partition 
 wall. 
 
 u Damn it!" he ejaculated, many times. The words 
 seemed to partially relieve the tension on his mind. He 
 did not dare think consecutively of her. Still less did 
 he wish to think of home and what awaited him there. 
 What a long night it promised to be! He looked at his 
 watch and wound it, from the force of habit. 
 
 It was only half-past ten. 
 
 He walked up and down his room, in and out of the 
 bed-chamber beyond. Oh, how long, how very long the 
 night was! He scanned the face of his watch again.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 99 
 
 It was now a quarter before eleven. He lay down and 
 tried to sleep. 
 
 He lay there for hours, for days, for weeks, and then, 
 in desperation, he looked at his watch again, to see what 
 new lie was mirrored on its face. 
 
 Half -past eleven! What an absurdity! 
 
 A century passed after that, during which he tossed 
 and turned, more sleepless, if possible, than before. 
 Then a clock somewhere began striking and tolled 
 twelve strokes. 
 
 Sitting up, Dale began to curse the timepiece that 
 could utter such a senseless falsehood. He forgot the 
 silence of the place and the distinctness with which 
 his voice resounded in the empty rooms. When he 
 stopped, he fancied he heard a new and strange sound, 
 like the movement of soft feet on the carpet in the 
 parlor. Pshaw! His brain was turned, he could not 
 tmst his senses. 
 
 Across the open doorway, faintly shown by the low- 
 ered light, stole a slight figure a human shape, and it 
 came toward him.
 
 100 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 CHAPTEK X. 
 
 MR. AND MRS. TAYLOR, 
 
 It was late the next morning when Kingdon Dale 
 arose. He had lain for more than an hour after waking, 
 harassed hy the most horrible reflections and fears. He 
 was far from being at heart a bad man. Could it have 
 availed to blot out the occurrences of the previous twelve 
 hours he would have sacrificed every hope of success that 
 had filled his brain. With languid steps and pale feat- 
 ures, he dragged himself about the room like a man par- 
 tially paralyzed. 
 
 When Miss Eivers returned to him, long after, he 
 stole a glance at her face, to see if there was left a single 
 gleam of pity for one who had wronged her so deeply. 
 To his surprise, he noticed nothing that indicated hate, 
 although her manner was much more subdued than for- 
 merly. Overcome by his emotions, he took a step to- 
 ward her and fell upon his knees at her feet. 
 
 With the sweetest words of comfort, Margaret chided 
 him for his prostrate position, and succeeded at last in 
 persuading him to arise and talk with her. But when 
 he pleaded his love in extenuation of his conduct, and 
 promised to take her hand in marriage as soon as a 
 clergyman could be found, she proved as obdurate as 
 ever. 
 
 "No man in his senses," she said, "would talk of mak- 
 ing a wife of a woman disgraced as I am. Your excite- 
 ment lias turned your brain." 
 
 "Don't talk like that unless you intend to make me 
 really ineane," he groaned.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 101 
 
 She shook her head sorrowfully. 
 
 " I don't know what to say to you/' she ejaculated, 
 " and I wish you would forget this disagreeable subject. 
 There are some hours yet left to us before your steamer 
 will sail. Must we spend it all in talking of matters 
 about which we differ? Why cannot we be good friends 
 and part without a quarrel ?" 
 
 He demanded to know why she thought he could ever 
 quarrel with her, why he should ever be anything but 
 her dear, close friend. He repeated, in spite of her en- 
 treaties, that there was no reason in the world but her 
 stubbornness why she should not let him call her by the 
 name of wife before the day ended. His love for her 
 had grown ten times greater since they came to Gib- 
 raltar. He would not leave her; he would give up the 
 business of his firm; he would remain in Europe; unless 
 she consented to go to America with him. 
 
 " Why," he cried, in conclusion, " you are already my 
 wife! The ceremony prescribed by the law can hardly 
 cement us closer than we are. I will listen to no eva- 
 sions of your duty, Margaret. This is a matter in which 
 I have a right to insist." 
 
 " How wildly and recklessly unbridled passion will 
 make a man talk," she said. " Your ' wife,' indeed! If 
 I had promised you my hand, and the hour of our wed- 
 ding was fixed for to-day, I would refuse to keep my 
 promise after what has occurred. Unless I could become 
 a wife with the respect of my husband, I never would 
 marry." 
 
 "Oh, Margaret," he cried, "what is it you mean to do? 
 You have confided to me your situation. You are friend- 
 less, penniless, innocent of the ways of the world. If I 
 leave you here you will fall a victim to some miserable 
 scamp and live a life you despise with a man you hate!"
 
 102 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 She shivered, and he drew her closer to his breait, 
 as if to warm her. 
 
 " I realize the truth of the picture you have drawn," 
 said she, after kissing him once more to gain strength. 
 " I have known it for some days the hopelessness of 
 expecting to make a living at any respectable employ- 
 ment. But, Kingdon, the men who are to share my 
 smiles will not hold my heart in their grasp, as you do. 
 I shall not feel that fierce hunger with which you pos- 
 sess me that jealousy of every other female creature 
 in the universe." 
 
 Dale heard her with the utmost impatience. 
 
 " I wish you could feel, for one second," he said, " the 
 torture you cause me. It is simply maddening. I can- 
 not give you up now, whatever I could have done be- 
 fore. Make your own terms with me, Margaret. Give 
 me any obligation you like, only don't say we are 
 never to meet after that dreadful steamer arrives. 
 I should throw myself from its deck into the ocean if I 
 knew you were consigned to the awful life of which you 
 spoke a little while ago. I will not leave you here! I 
 say that once for all. You shall go to America or I 
 shall remain in Europe. If there be no place where you 
 can earn a living here, there are certainly plenty on the 
 other side of the sea. You have no right to refuse my 
 offer to obtain one for you there an honest opportunity 
 to get your bread. If you refuse that you are beyond 
 reason." 
 
 Miss Rivers saw that her companion was being 
 wrought into a state of uncontrollability, and she tried 
 to soothe him. 
 
 "What I fear is that your resolution to leave me when 
 we reach land will not be so easy to keep. There will be
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 103 
 
 the same trouble over again the talk of marriage and 
 that sort of thing," 
 
 " No/' he said, eagerly, " I will let all that go. I will 
 give up all hope of marrying you, and certainly I shall 
 never think of marrying any other woman There! It is 
 settled, then; there is no more to be said. You will go 
 to New York with me; I will put you in good hands 
 and," he said the last words with a choking voice, "we 
 will part forever." 
 
 He could not hold back the tears, and, seeing him 
 weeping, she mingled hers with those that coursed down 
 his cheek. 
 
 " I had forgotten that you wished to see friends here," 
 he said, presently. " We shall have to attend to that this 
 morning, or it may be too late." 
 
 " I do not want to see them if I am going with you," 
 she answered, tremulously. " Oh, I wonder if I had bet- 
 ter go! The temptation to escape my certain fate here 
 is great, but there must be no break in your promise. 
 Make it again, Kingdon, solemnly." 
 
 He repeated it after her, slowly, and sealed it with a 
 kiss on her lips. 
 
 "I I will go," she said, after a moment's pause. 
 " Yes, I will go. And now I must return to my room 
 and get ready, for it must be nearly noon." 
 
 " A minute," he said, as she was about to leave him. 
 " You know I have done you a fearful wrong, and you 
 know I am very sorry. It will do me much good to hear 
 you say you forgive me!" 
 
 "I will say it and welcome," she replied. "It was all 
 my fault. I believed you would leave with less regret 
 whe you learned that I was not the kind of woman you 
 wanted for your wife." 
 
 He shook his head as if he did not yet understand.
 
 104: THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 "I thought/' she stammered, "I wanted yo to go 
 away with an easier heart/' 
 
 He drew her closer to him again. 
 
 " You poor little innocent/' he exclaimed, " in what 
 school did you learn these strange ideas?" 
 
 A few minutes later a callboy was knocking. The 
 American steamer had arrived, and would leave in about 
 two hours. 
 
 Margaret opened her door, when he hastened to im- 
 part the news. 
 
 " The steamer is here our steamer!" he said. " We 
 are going in two hours together!" 
 
 "Hush!" she replied, when she had disengaged her- 
 self from his embrace. " If you act like this I shall not 
 dare go with you." 
 
 " I want to say one thing," he whispered, " and you 
 will understand at once. In order that we may be as 
 much together as we please, I shall register you on the 
 passenger list as my wife." 
 
 " Oh!" she exclaimed, but he stopped her. 
 
 " It is not an official document. I only want to stop 
 the tongues of the other passengers. We shall have 
 nothing to do with them. It is merely for expediency. 
 
 There was another knock at his door, and he went 
 back to talk with a porter, who wanted to know when 
 the baggage would be ready. He sent down for his bill, 
 and paid everything for both. It was a good thing there 
 was so much to do, for he was afraid every minute that 
 Miss Eivers would raise some new objection if she had 
 time to talk with him alone. Presently they were in the 
 carriage and speeding toward the pier. 
 
 " What names?" asked the agent, when Dale asked for 
 two tickets. 
 
 " Mr. and Mrs. Taylor," he replied.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 105 
 
 "Christian names?" 
 
 " Albert and Lydia." 
 
 Once on board, Margaret went directly to her state- 
 room, where she elected to remain for the present, plead- 
 ing a slight indisposition. With a tender caress King- 
 don bade her try to sleep, saying he would not disturb 
 her for an hour or two. As he regained the deck he saw 
 coming toward him a familiar form, and Sidney Brooks 
 held out his hand, exclaiming, "Well, Kingdon Dale!" 
 
 " You are mistaken," was the icy reply. " My name 
 is Taylor."
 
 106 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 "COME AND LET US TALK." 
 
 The astonishment of Mr. Brooks at this reception of 
 his advances was marked. He knew that the person he 
 had addressed was Mr. Dale, and he could not account 
 for the direct cut he had received, or the pretense that 
 he was mistaken. For some moments he stood staring 
 after the form of the other, as it moved toward the far- 
 ther end of the deck, wondering over the strange oc- 
 currence. Suddenly he saw it whirl about and come 
 toward him quite as rapidly as it had gone away. 
 
 " Come over here and let us have a talk," said King- 
 don, in a more affable tone. 
 
 Brooks followed willingly, for he bore no ill-will on 
 account of the treatment he had just received. When 
 they had reached a quiet spot where there were no ears 
 to overhear their conversation, Dale remarked, " I was 
 not looking for any one I knew, and I have reasons for 
 not wishing to be addressed here by my true name. That 
 is why I answered you so abruptly. But, as you are ap- 
 parently going to be my fellow-voyager for the next ten 
 days, you might as well understand it now as later." 
 
 " If you have any secret that you do not wish me to 
 learn, I hope you will not think it necessary to reveal 
 it," responded Brooks. "I would not have addressed 
 you had I suspected that to be the case, and I will pro- 
 fess not to know you during the voyage if you desire." 
 
 " There is nothing to be gained by that course," said 
 Dale, after reflection. "I have committed what most
 
 THFIR MARRIAGE BOND. 107 
 
 people would call an indiscretion,, and it is too late to 
 undo it. If I had expected to meet any person who knew 
 me on the boat I should have taken a different method. 
 All I need explain to you is that I have bought my 
 ticket under the name of Albert Taylor, and that a lady 
 who come with me is registered as Lydia Taylor." 
 
 He spoke as if the matter was a very ordinary one, for 
 he did not mean to have his tones excite more interest 
 than the words they uttered. But Brooks could not help 
 a slight start, and a change of color. 
 
 "There! It is out now," added Kingdon. "You 
 could make it very unpleasant for me if you chose; but I 
 think I read your mind better than to suppose you 
 would do so. I am involved in one of those affairs which 
 explanations only complicate. The least said in the mat- 
 ter will be soonest mended." 
 
 Mr. Brooks bowed, and said he should do nothing to 
 add to his friend's uneasiness. He had no wish to learn 
 anything on the subject. He colored as he made the 
 statement, very much as a girl might have done with the 
 same suspicions in mind, but Kingdon felt certain of his 
 fealty to his word, and breathed easier. 
 
 The conversation then changed to Mr. Brooks' visit 
 to Europe, and to the legitimate business of Mr. Dale 
 on his foreign trip. It seemed that Sidney had been 
 commissioned to take some depositions at Naples, and 
 had taken the opportunity to see a little of Southern 
 Italy, but his time had been extremely limited, and he 
 was going home still hungry for the sights he had 
 missed. He listened to Kingdon's account of his own 
 voyages, asking many questions and showing interest in 
 all he heard. 
 
 On learning that it was only five weeks since Brooks 
 had left Boston, Mr. Dale inquired about his friends
 
 108 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 there. The young lawyer gave an account of many of 
 them, among others Gordon Hayne. He also mentioned 
 incidentally that he had gone with Hayne once or twice 
 to Mrs. Bruce's, and had also seen Mr. Dale the elder. 
 
 " How did he appear?" queried the son, anxiously. 
 
 " Much as the last time I had seen him the time you 
 were there/' said Brooks. " I had quite a talk with him, 
 mainly, as was natural, about you. I did not then know 
 that I was going abroad I started very suddenly but 
 I think at that time he expected you home a little earlier 
 than this." 
 
 Kingdon explained that he had done more business 
 than he at first expected, and then he inquired about the 
 Bruces. 
 
 " Mrs. Bruce looked the picture of health/' responded 
 Sidney, "and Miss Ida, though not as ruddy as her 
 mother, was as ever very beautiful. By the way," he 
 added, as if not quite sure that he ought to mention it, 
 " I saw the announcement of your engagement just be- 
 fore you sailed." 
 
 To this statement Dale vouchsafed no reply. He was 
 picturing the scene to himself the parlors of Mrs. 
 Bruce, the familiar faces that he knew must have gath- 
 ered there. In one chair in a corner his pale-faced father 
 sat, talking a little occasionally, and thinking of the 
 days when he took a more active part in the affairs of the 
 world. Thinking, too, no doubt, of the absent son, 
 whose future he had been at such pains to secure, both 
 in a business and matrimonial way. 
 
 What would happen when the son returned and told 
 him that he would under no circumstances carry out the 
 promise he had made, to marry Ida Bruce? Kingdon 
 trembled at the thought, but he did not believe anything
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 109 
 
 could make him swerve from his determination to marry 
 Margaret Rivers or die a bachelor. 
 
 Intuitively Brooks knew that the subject of the en- 
 gagement was a distasteful one to his friend, and he did 
 not again allude to it. He could not help reflecting that 
 the registering of two persons as " Mr. and Mrs. Taylor" 
 had something to do with it. The matter had a strange 
 fascination for him, but he had no intention of taking 
 pains to probe the mystery. 
 
 The first time he had seen Ida Bruce he thought her 
 the most queenly creature he had ever beheld. He had 
 looked upon her fiance, as Kingdon was already reputed 
 to be, as the most happy of mortals. He knew that was 
 the general opinion in and about Boston, and he was 
 greatly puzzled to find that some cloud had come into 
 the happy story of the young couple. 
 
 " Mr. and Mrs. Taylor!" Had Dale married while 
 abroad and taken another name on the boat to avoid a 
 premature announcement of the fact to his father? 
 That seemed the most probable explanation to his re- 
 markable conduct. 
 
 " It will be practically impossible to live together on 
 this steamer a week and avoid each other half the time," 
 said Kingdon. "I should not like to do it, even if I 
 could. Mrs. Taylor is at present in her cabin, but she 
 will be on deck, I trust, before the day is over. You will 
 be likely to see a good deal of her." 
 
 " You intend to present me, then?" 
 
 " Certainly. Our mutual talk will be about Europe 
 and the United States, in a general way, as far as I can 
 guide it. I think Margaret " he paused, regretful at 
 his error " Mrs. Taylor will say very little on any sub- 
 ject when we are together." 
 
 "As I said, and as I wish to emphasize," remarked
 
 HO THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 Brooks, with that flush which came so readily to his 
 face, " I want to know nothing of your private affairs; 
 "but, in order that there may be no confusion, tell me one 
 thing: Am I to consider, in my conversation, that you 
 are married to this lady; is that what I am given to un- 
 derstand?" 
 
 " That is exactly what we wish you to assume," replied 
 Dale, " in case the necessity arises to assume anything. 
 For reasons which I cannot explain if I would, we have 
 registered in that manner, and we wish to keep up the 
 assumption till we are landed in New York." 
 
 Soon after saying this he excused himself and went 
 to attend to some business with the purser and head 
 steward. While determined not to meddle with matters 
 that belonged to another, Sidney Brooks could not help 
 bringing his legal mind to bear on the case before him. 
 From the concluding statement of his friend he gathered 
 that Kingdon and the lady with him were unmarried. 
 He had not said so definitely, but he had spoken of it as 
 an 'assumption.' A thousand conjectures might be 
 made of their reasons for traveling under a false title. 
 There was certainly nothing to show that Kingdon's 
 marriage with Miss Bruce had been broken off, or even 
 that this voyage with " Mrs. Taylor " had anything to 
 in it of a reprehensible nature. 
 
 Still, as he kept saying to himself, whatever the affair 
 meant, it was nothing to him. He could not undertake 
 to act as guardian of the morals of a universe. The 
 world was a queer one, and strange things happened 
 every day. 
 
 Half an hour later, being in the dining saloon, he was 
 spoken to by the steward. 
 
 " Mr. Taylor has asked me to give him and his wife
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. Ill 
 
 eats next to you, and the gentlemen who had them have 
 consented kindly to make a change." 
 
 " That will be very pleasant," stammered Mr. Brooks. 
 
 Involuntarily he glanced at the card which the 
 steward had placed by the two plates, and read them: 
 "Mr. Taylor, Cabin 46; Mrs. Taylor, Cabin 47." 
 
 The lunch bell rang while he was thinking about the 
 matter, and he braced himself for the ordeal before him. 
 To his relief, however, Kingdon came to the table alone, 
 with the explanation that Mrs. Taylor did not yet feel 
 equal to sitting up, and would be served in her cabin. 
 
 Margaret was not really ill, but exhausted with the 
 strain through which she had passed. In her excited 
 state she was already sorry that she had yielded to the 
 temptation to follow the man she loved into the New 
 World. Still, she trembled to think how she would have 
 felt at this moment had his vessel disappeared across the 
 brine and left her to face the hopeless future of poverty 
 alone. The contending emotions dealt severely with a 
 physique none too strong, and the girl lay prone upon. 
 the sofa in her cabin, a very pitiable object. 
 
 Why had she ever left Cairo in his company? she 
 asked herself a thousand times. There was the point to 
 separate, as her conscience had told her plainly. Every 
 hour spent together made the parting more and more 
 painful. Why had she succumbed to her great love at 
 the Hotel Eoyal? Instead of making it easier to part, 
 either for her or him, it had made it infinitely more dif- 
 ficult. And here she was, registered as his wife, living a 
 lie! 
 
 But, on the other hand, her situation had been, in- 
 deed, trying. When she had resolved to give up so much 
 for the sake of that American woman whom she had 
 never seen, she had need of something to strengthen her
 
 112 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 heart a single, happy memory to assuage the agonj 
 the after years of her life must hold. She had stolen 
 nothing from Miss Bruce. Mr. Dale would marry Ida 
 yet at the hour he had agreed she would make him do 
 it. The ten days before he reached land were hers! She 
 might have taken all the days he had, hut she had re- 
 served to herself only this hrief space, giving all the rest 
 to her rival. 
 
 On the second day, at evening, she appeared at dinner, 
 and ran the gauntlet of many eyes as the probable bride 
 who had come aboard at Gibraltar.. She was presented 
 to Mr. Brooks, who sat next to Mr. Dale, and exchanged 
 a few words with him. Brooks decided that he could 
 tell nothing about her yet, and waited to get a better 
 opportunity to form an opinion. 
 
 She was certainly a pretty woman, though, he reflect- 
 ed, ehe had nothing of the radiant beauty of Miss Bruce. 
 She wore mourning, which added to the subdued ap- 
 pearance that had become natural to her. She looked as 
 if she had passed through some recent trial. The pale- 
 ness of her face might be ascribed partly to this and 
 partly to the effect of a day at sea. When the dinner 
 was ended, Margaret walked for half an hour on the 
 deck, leaning on her " husband's " arm, and the most of 
 the passengers satisfied their curiosity regarding her at 
 that time. Then she retired and Mr. Brooks went to th 
 smoking room to light a cigar. 
 
 The days that followed were much like this one, 
 though Miss Rivers was more upon the deck than at 
 first. She had little conversations with Mr. Brooks, in 
 which he learned that she was of English birth and had 
 lived much in the East, but nothing mare.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 113 
 
 CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 LOST IN NEW YORK. 
 
 At six one morning, Miss Rivers went early upon the 
 deck. She saw from the window of her cabin that land 
 was not far away that the harbor of New York had al- 
 ready been entered. As she walked about, her eyes 
 searched for a familiar face, and she soon saw it, with its 
 eyes gazing interestedly toward the shore. 
 
 " Good-morning, Mr. Brooks/' she said, as she ap- 
 proached him. 
 
 As he turned and looked at her, she saw that he was 
 not over pleased at the encounter. He replied politely, 
 but there was a lack of cordiality in his manner that he, 
 perhaps, did not realize. 
 
 " Good morning, Mrs. Taylor," he said, lifting his hat. 
 
 " I want to ask a favor of you/' she said, wistfully. 
 " I want you, by and by, when we have landed, to give 
 this letter to Mr. to Mr. Taylor." 
 
 She held a little envelope in her hand, offering it to 
 him, but he made no move to take it. 
 
 " Why do you not give it to him, yourself?" he asked. 
 
 " Because I am sure you will not betray me I am 
 going to leave him as soon as opportunity offers. He 
 he is not my husband I knew long ago that you had 
 guessed it and I must relieve him of my presence. I 
 can't explain any more, but when I am gone this note 
 will simplify matters, and prevent his instituting a 
 earch for me. Won't you please give it to him?" 
 
 * I am sorry to refuse, but I really cannot mix in the
 
 114 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 affair/' he answered. " The chief steward or the purser 
 might accommodate you, but for very strong reasons I 
 cannot." 
 
 A look of deep distress overspread her features, and 
 there was a suspicion of moisture in her dark eyes. 
 She said " Good-morning " again, not angrily, and went 
 toward the dining saloon. 
 
 " I suppose I've been fearfully impolite," said Brooks 
 to himself, "but really T don't see what else I could have 
 done. Not married to Dale, eh? Well, as she says, I 
 never believed she was. It's one of those freaks that 
 good men fall into in their youth and, according to 
 what she says, it ends here. He will go back to Newton, 
 and marry Miss Ida who will never know of the es- 
 capade. I wonder/' he mused, " what she would say if 
 she did know of it. There would be an end to her wed- 
 ding preparations, I guess. She's not the sort of woman 
 to stand a thing like this, if it came to her ears." 
 
 Margaret found that the head steward was busy, and, 
 on reflection, thought it best not to give him her note 
 yet, for fear of accident. Soon after she knocked on 
 Dale's door. 
 
 " I think you will have to hasten," said she. " It will 
 take some time for you to dress and pack," she added, as 
 he opened the portal. "I have been up for an hour and 
 a half, and have only just finished." 
 
 "At the hotel to which we are going," she continued, 
 in a whisper, "there must be no more of Mr. and Mrs. 
 Taylor. You are again to be Kingdon Dale, and I Mar- 
 garet Rivers." -* 
 
 When he was ready they walked to the saloon, where 
 Kingdon went through the form of declaring to the offi- 
 cials that he had no dutiable goods, either in his baggage 
 r that of his "wife." For this purpose He was obliged
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 116 
 
 to answer to the name recorded on the passenger list. 
 Then they went to breakfast, eating the meal in compar- 
 ative silence. 
 
 Sidney Brooks had taken his breakfast already and 
 left the table. The other passengers around them were 
 chatting gayly at the prospect of being so soon on shore. 
 A number of ladies whom Margaret had never seen made 
 their appearance the inevitable contingent found on all 
 Atlantic steamers, who keep their staterooms during an 
 entire voyage on account of seasickness. Goob-byes were 
 being exchanged, with promises to write, always so rife 
 at the end of a voyage between people who have formed 
 friendships which they believe will be lasting. The 
 brightness and bustle struck a contrasting chill to Mar- 
 garet's heart. Most of those around her were going to 
 happy homes, after some months or years of absence. 
 She alone seemed to have come to a foreign land, where 
 no one knew her and where she had no hope of anything 
 more than the barest subsistence, if, indeed, she was so 
 lucky as to find that. 
 
 They went upon the deck, where, absent-mindedly, 
 Kingdon pointed out to her the islands of the Harbor 
 and the tallest buildings on shore, as well as the spider's 
 web which the great Brooklyn Bridge appears to the dis- 
 tant sight. He could not talk of much else, for fear of 
 making a scene. The attitude of the couple, joined to 
 the dejected appearance of Margaret and the mourning 
 that she wore, caused comment among the passengers, 
 who decided again that the American had married an 
 English wife who had lately suffered some great be- 
 reavement. The belief settled down to a deceased 
 mother, whom she and her husband had gone to Emrope 
 to bury. 
 
 At last the steamer reached her dock and was made
 
 116 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND 
 
 fast. The plank was arranged and the passengers alight- 
 ed. With little delay Kingdon passed the examinations, 
 and he was soon on the way to a hotel with his com- 
 panion. Their hands stole together as they rode through 
 the streets, but neither dared utter more than common- 
 places. 
 
 When they drew up in front of the hostelry, Mr. Dale 
 asked the girl to remain for a few moments in the car- 
 riage while he inquired if suitable rooms could be ob- 
 tained, as it was a time when he supposed the house 
 would be quite full. He had hardly passed out of sight 
 when Margaret made a quick resolve and acted upon it. 
 
 She had given up the plan of asking the head steward 
 of the steamer to deliver the little note of farewell which 
 che had offered to Mr. Brooks. She had acquiesced in 
 the suggestion that Kingdon should remain with her for 
 a day or two, until he could find her a situation, with the 
 tacit understanding that all relations but those of friend- 
 ship should cease between them from the time they 
 landed. But when he alighted to look for their rooms a 
 fright seized her. 
 
 She was morally certain that the rooms he would se- 
 lect would communicate with each other. She knew 
 how hard it was for him to give her up, and she dreaded 
 putting her weak strength of mind against his strong 
 one. Should she enter that hotel she did not know how 
 she could resist if he opposed her determination to leave. 
 The present was above all others the time for freedom, 
 and she made a bold dash for it. 
 
 The moment he was out of sight she called the cab* 
 man to the window. 
 
 " The large trunk and the smaller bags are to be taken 
 off here," she said, hurriedly. " The other bag and the 
 little trunk go on with me."
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 117 
 
 " What? You don't stop together?" said the man. 
 
 "No, Be as quick as possible, please. There is no 
 time to spare." 
 
 Knowing no reason for delay, the man called to the 
 hotel porters, who stood around, and had the designated 
 baggage removed from his vehicle. 
 
 " What shall we do with them, ma'am?" asked one of 
 the porters, when the articles named were deposited in 
 the doorway. 
 
 " The gentleman will be back directly. He has gone 
 inside to engage a room," she said. Then, to the driver: 
 " Do you know of any respectable boarding house, where 
 the charges are not very dear? I want to be taken to 
 such a place at once." 
 
 The driver, for a wonder, knew of exactly such a 
 place, and, mounting his box, drove off toward it. The 
 room and board, with the price asked for the same, prov- 
 ing satisfactory, Miss Eivers settled for the cab and en- 
 tered her new home. Her first act after finding herself 
 alone was a very feminine one. She lay down on the 
 bed and cried for an hour as if her heart would break. 
 
 As for Kingdon Dale, his surprise and disappointment 
 may be imagined when he found how he had been de- 
 serted. He inquired of the employees of the hotel who 
 had seen the carriage if they remembered the number or 
 would recognize the driver if they saw him again, but in 
 both these points he was met by negatives. It was plain 
 that they thought the joke on him a huge one, for he 
 could discern covert smiles in their faces and felt that 
 they would not help him, even if they could. The lady 
 had meant to give him the slip, and their sympathy was 
 all with her. 
 
 He could not explain the state of affairs to these fel- 
 lows, and, rather than remain in a house where the story
 
 118 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 was certain to be repeated among the guests, he took a 
 second carriage and went immediately to another one. 
 
 What was to be done? He did not want to leave Mar- 
 garet to the tender mercies of a strange country. He 
 sincerely wished to aid her in every possible way to earn 
 a living, since it was clear she was bound at any cost to 
 carry out her intention of leaving him. But New York 
 is a large place. She might have left the city by one of 
 the numerous trains, reaching out into the country in a 
 hundred directions. She would, without doubt, do her 
 best to avoid him. 
 
 The more he thought of the matter the more disheart- 
 ened he grew. His conscience pricked him severely for 
 the part he had played toward her. He was no roue 1 
 she was the first woman toward whom he had ever acted 
 in this dishonorable way. He would never have been 
 led into it but for the belief that he could right his 
 wrong by marriage. 
 
 What were her chances to obtain an honest living? 
 He feared they were not of the best. She was pretty, 
 very unsophisticated, and nearly penniless. He knew 
 just how much money she had, for the day before land- 
 ing he had put a hundred dollars in American money 
 into her purse, from which he had taken the last shilling 
 when they left Gibraltar. She had protested when he 
 did this, and he had promised to take it back again as 
 soon as she was settled in a good place, and was certain 
 she could spare the amount. 
 
 A hundred dollars! It might last her six or seven 
 weeks with the rigid economy she would be sure to prac- 
 tice. And, after that! 
 
 Without the least idea that he was likely to see her he 
 walked up and down the streets all that afternoon and 
 into the evening, peering into every female face he en-
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 119 
 
 countered. He was without hope, and yet it seemed as 
 if he could not give up. People stared at him, so pale, so 
 wrapt in his quest. He had eaten no lunch and no din- 
 ner. About eleven o'clock at night he met on the side- 
 walk a familiar form and stopped at the warm greeting 
 of Mr. Gordon Hayne. 
 
 " Why, Kingdon, where did you come from?" 
 
 " I don't know," was the strange reply. 
 
 The speaker was so full of the ohject of his thoughts 
 that for a moment he could not collect himself. 
 
 " See here," said Hayne, " you're not well. Come 
 inside one of these restaurants and take something for 
 your nerves." 
 
 Not able to resist, though he hated to have his walk 
 interrupted, Kingdon followed his old acquaintance into 
 a brightly lighted place, and, in response to a request to 
 state what he would take, said simply that he did not 
 care. 
 
 " You are ill," said Hayne, eying him closely. " You'd 
 best have a little brandy and water." He indicated to a 
 waiter who had appeared that he might bring the bever- 
 age designated. " When you've swallowed that I'll get a 
 carriage and take you to your hotel. Where are you 
 stopping?" 
 
 " I don't know," was the guttural answer, while Mr. 
 Dale showed signs of collapse. 
 
 " For Heaven's sake, brace up!" said the other, be- 
 coming alarmed. " You had too hard a sea voyage, I 
 guess, and haven't got your land legs yet. Think, King- 
 don," he added, fearing that his friend would faint be- 
 fore he had given information as to his hotel. " Where 
 did you get your dinner?" 
 
 Mr. Dale looked blankly at the questioner, and then, 
 the brandy and water arriving, sipped some of it slowly.
 
 120 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 * I don't think I've had any dinner," he said, finally. 
 
 "You came in on the Mediterranean steamer from 
 Gibraltar this morning, didn't you?" 
 
 Dale eyed his companion nervously. 
 
 "How did you know that?" he asked, rousing him* 
 self. 
 
 " I guessed it from the fact that your father told me a 
 few days ago that he had had a letter from you dated at 
 Malta, and that you intended taking the southern route 
 home; and I saw in the noon edition of the Telegram 
 that the boat was in." 
 
 The explanation quieted the young man, and the al- 
 lusion to his father opened a new train of thought. 
 
 " My father is he well?" 
 
 " About as usual; and very anxious to see you. If the 
 news of your steamer's safe arrival was in the evening 
 edition of the Boston papers, he will sit up to-night 
 waiting for you. Your best way now is to take the mid- 
 night train, and be at home early in the morning." 
 
 There was something in this suggestion that caused 
 Kingdon to break into immoderate laughter, not loud 
 enough to attract attention from others in the room, but 
 sufficiently strange to cause Mr. Hayne a good deal of 
 apprehension. 
 
 Had his friend completely lost his mind? 
 
 It was the kind of laughter that is often followed by 
 tears, but in this case the manifestation stopped short of 
 that. 
 
 "If you have really had no dinner, you should eat 
 something," said Hayne. "Nothing is worse than an 
 empty stomach." 
 
 Kingdon acquiesced in the idea of refreshments, and a 
 repast was soon spread before him, of which he partook 
 with a reasonable appetite. The effects of the viand*
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 121 
 
 were almost immediately apparent in his improved ap- 
 pearance. 
 
 " I cannot go to Boston to-night," he said, when that 
 subject was again broached. " But perhaps I will go to- 
 morrow. I have a little business to transact here for 
 my firm. Yes, I think a note stating that I have arrived 
 might be sent home. It will relieve father of anxiety in 
 case he hears of the arrival of my boat." 
 
 Stationery was procured, and the epistle indited, a 
 messenger being summoned to take it to the railway sta- 
 tion, as it was too late for the postoffice. 
 
 " You'd better let me walk to the hotel with you/' 
 eaid Hayne, when the name of that establishment was at 
 last given to him. " I'm at the Brunswick. And to- 
 morrow, unless you're a great deal better, I advise you 
 to be careful not to go about too much. You gave me a 
 start when I first met you, upon my word !" 
 
 As there was nothing to be gained by continuing to 
 patrol the city in his present condition, Kingdon con- 
 sented to go home and to bed. After his arrival there 
 he relapsed for a time into his former condition of de- 
 spondency. It did not seem as if he could close his eyea 
 when the girl he loved so well might be already a victim 
 to the snares and wiles that would be set for her feet. 
 
 But tired Nature had her way at last, and he slept 
 the sleep of an exhausted man till morning.
 
 H22 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 "YOU ARE A SICK MAN." 
 
 When Kingdon awoke it was with a start. The proh- 
 lem which he had been obliged to face on the previous 
 day was still in existence. 
 
 For a full hour he did not attempt to rise. But, 
 though he thought of the dilemma in every conceivable 
 phase, its severity did not abate. Margaret had deserted 
 him in a manner that showed how strong was her pur- 
 pose to end all connections between them. There was a 
 possibility that to-day or to-morrow, frightened at being 
 alone in a strange land, she would relent and come in 
 search of him. If she held out beyond that he did not 
 know where to find further hope. He could not long 
 delay going to see his father, but he resolved at least to 
 wait in the city forty-eight hours. 
 
 There was no telling whether the English girl was still 
 in the vicinity or whether some of the trains that run to 
 all points of the compass had taken her miles and miles 
 away. He would write a few words home, stating that he 
 had arrived, and that a business matter would delay him 
 in New York for a couple of days. In the meantime 
 there was the patrol of the long streets and avenues, the 
 perusal of the newspapers, the frequent returns to the 
 office of the hotel where she had left him, with inquiries 
 and a careful injunction to each of the clerks to detain 
 any person who might call for him. 
 
 Gordon Hayne came around about ten o'clock to in- 
 quire after his condition, and Kingdon, who was then at
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 123 
 
 breakfast, got rid of him by a plausible story, without 
 giving offense. Gordon said he was in the city on no 
 particular business, merely passing the time. While the 
 coffee was disappearing he took occasion to speak of Ed- 
 ward Dale and of the Bruce family, but Kingdon paid 
 little attention to the subject. 
 
 "There isn't anything that I can do for you, is 
 there?" asked Hayne, as his friend excused himself. " I 
 don't like to see you looking like this, and my time is 
 wholly at your disposal, if it's of any use." 
 
 " No/' was the reply. " I am upset a little about a 
 business matter, but I guess it will come around all 
 right." 
 
 " If you want any money pardon me you know you 
 have only to mention it." 
 
 " Thank you. It is nothing of that kind. Good-bye." 
 
 He was very much broken up. Hayne, who knew him 
 go well, was perfectly certain of that. But there was 
 nothing he could do, either to help his friend or to sat- 
 isfy his curiosity, and he parted from Kingdon without 
 either of them alluding to a possible reunion. 
 
 After walking aimlessly about for a time, peering into 
 the faces of every woman he met, Dale returned to the 
 hotel and copied from a directory a long list of intel- 
 ligence offices. These he obtained help in arranging in 
 some order as to their distance from the hotel and the 
 direction in which they lay. Then, taking a carriage, he 
 explained to the driver his desire to visit the entire list 
 as fast as convenient, and set off on that errand. 
 
 " I wish to engage a young woman to teach two chil- 
 dren the ordinary branches," was the story he repeated 
 at each office. " An English girl, newly arrived, would 
 be preferred." 
 
 At two or three places they said they had exactly whafc
 
 19* THEIR MARRIAGE BOOTX 
 
 he wanted, and called out of adjacent rooms various 
 types of females to prove the assertion. They would not 
 do, however, and, leaving an address, fictitious, of course, 
 at the general postoffice, he arranged that in case any- 
 thing more suitable presented itself he was to be noti- 
 fied. By evening he had tired his driver, the horsed 
 and himself, and discovered nothing. 
 
 In the hours between dark and midnight he could not 
 rest. He renewed his wanderings in the streets. How 
 Tery many women there were without escorts! Not 
 few of them were on errands that filled him with hor- 
 roi. He thought continually that Margaret, the pure 
 and gentle Margaret for to him she was still pure as 
 ever might yet join that sisterhood. 
 
 She had hinted of it in some of their talks, this 
 dernier resort of the woman who has to wrest her living 
 from the cruel world. It drove him frantic to think of 
 the probable fate of such a girl, alone, friendless, ignor- 
 ant of life, with no trade or profession unless he could 
 find her. 
 
 His steps grew heavier. Perhaps she had already be- 
 gun the downward career. The descent into hell is so 
 
 Struck with a new idea, Kingdon called a cab from a 
 stand and told the driver to take him on a round of the 
 " pleasure houses " of the city. It was but a chase for 
 wild geese, and one resort was as likely as another to 
 bring him to what he sought. He had known hitherto 
 "but little of this kind of thing, but he had a general no- 
 tion of the manner in which these houses were con- 
 ducted. 
 
 He went from one to the other, ringing the bells, be- 
 ing escorted into the parlors, seeing the troops of painted 
 girls enter for his inspection, noting the eager glances
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 125 
 
 which they cast upon him, each one hoping to touch his 
 fancy. He paid for the wine that was proposed, though 
 he did not lift the glass to his own lips. He questioned 
 each madame as to whether there was on her list of 
 boarders a young English girl lately arrived in the city, 
 and excused himself from the house, with a feeling that 
 he had already outstayed his welcome as far as the occu- 
 pants were concerned. 
 
 This he repeated at a dozen places. Then he realized 
 how hopeless was his quest how improbable it was that 
 Margaret would happen to be in any of these houses, 
 how unlikely that he would find her even if she were, 
 when there were five hundred other shady resorts that 
 he had no time to visit. Overwhelmed with his emo- 
 tions, haggard and distraught, he was driven back to his 
 hotel. 
 
 On the way he stopped at the other hotel and renewed 
 his inquiries as to whether any one had called to ask 
 for him. Nobody. Beaching his own hostelry, and go- 
 ing toward the elevator to seek his chamber, Kingdon 
 met Gordon Hayne in the hallway. 
 
 " I am going to bed," said Dale, briefly, to his visitor. 
 
 "I want to talk with you a moment/' responded 
 Hayne. " Let me go up with you." 
 
 M"ch as he would have liked to escape the con- 
 versation, Dale did not know how to do so. The two 
 men ascended together, and soon the door of the cham- 
 ber was closed upon them. 
 
 "I don't want to impose upon your privacy," said 
 Gordon, when they were seated, " but the condition in 
 which I find you makes it my duty You are a sick man, 
 with something on your mind that is driving you dis- 
 tracted. I am your friend, your companion of long 
 years, and I cannot leave until you axe in a better con-
 
 126 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 dition. Last night, when I first encountered you, you 
 were nearly out of your mind. This morning you were 
 unfit to go out alone, but I had to let you. To-night 
 you need a physician, if ever a man did. Now, Kingdon, 
 you can't go on like this. You needn't tell me what is 
 the cause of it, but you must take my advice. I know 
 you will have a month's illness unless this thing is 
 stopped right away." 
 
 Dale realized as his friend was speaking that there 
 was truth in what he said. He was very weak. His 
 head was whirling. He looked in a mirror opposite to 
 where he sat, and was shocked to note the pallor of his 
 face and the circles that had grown around his eyes. 
 
 " What do you want me to do?" he stammered. 
 
 " To let me send for a doctor, to begin with. He will 
 give you a potion that will help you to a healthful sleep. 
 Then I want to get a room near you and remain till 
 morning. You ought not to be left alone. And to-mor- 
 row, throwing everything else aside, I want you to come 
 to Boston with me, where your father is anticipating 
 your return and watching for you with every train that 
 comes to the station." 
 
 The mention of the word " father " did not impress 
 Kingdon as Gordon had believed it would. 
 
 "There is another who waits for you," he saidj at 
 random. " The girl you are engaged to marry." 
 
 A distinct shade of pain crossed the other's features. 
 Hayne did not understand its meaning, but he could not 
 help seeing it. 
 
 " Very well," said Dale, after a strained pause. " Call 
 the doctor. I do need rest, that is a fact. As for going 
 home we will talk of that when to-morrow comes." 
 
 Hayne touched a bell, and hastily scribbled a note, 
 which he gave to the attendant who responded. Not
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 187 
 
 long after a doctor whom he knew quite well respond- 
 ed, and without any more conversation than was neces- 
 sary a prescription was given, that was filled and taken. 
 
 Mr. Dale was too tired to make his sleep long in 
 coming, and the character of the sedative relieved him 
 of the restless dreams he would otherwise have expe- 
 rienced. Mr. Hayne stayed in the room for an hour, 
 until he was satisfied with the regular breathing of his 
 friend and patient, and then retired to a room across the 
 hall, which he was able to secure. 
 
 Three or four times during the night he rose and 
 went to look at the sleeper, for he had not removed more 
 than a part of his own clothing, but there was nothing 
 to be done. The morning came and found Kingdon's 
 rest undisturbed, and it was after nine o'clock when he 
 finally opened his eyes. 
 
 His first sensations were another sinking at the heart, 
 as the truth forced itself upon him. But Hayne was 
 ready with encouraging words; with statistics about the 
 trains to Boston, and with allusions to the father who 
 had not seen his son for months and whose anxiety must 
 be great to welcome him. There was little prospect that 
 longer delay in New York would avail anything. At 
 least, Kingdon thought, he might go home and meet his 
 father and business associates, and then, if any glimmer 
 of hope came again to his breast, he could return and 
 recommence his search. 
 
 He indicated to Gordon that he would go with him, 
 and the one o'clock train was decided upon. He allowed 
 his friend to send a telegram to Newton announcing the 
 decision. Then he took a slight breakfast, packed his 
 things, inquired at the other hotel office if any visitor 
 had come or any mail, sent to the general post to see if 
 anything had been received there from, the intelligence
 
 128 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 office people, and finally drove with his companion to 
 the Grand Central Station. 
 
 On the train he had a relapse, and Hayne was obliged 
 to administer a cordial to keep him from an entire giv- 
 ing way. The dreadful thought that Margaret was alone 
 and helpless in that great maelstrom that her fate 
 could hardly be a matter of doubt came over him like a 
 flood. 
 
 Even should she relent in her mad purpose to avoid 
 him, would she know where to find him? America was 
 to her a terra incognita. She had passed most of her 
 life in the East, where the conditions were so widely 
 different. She was by nature shrinking and disinclined 
 to ask favors. It might be that, at this moment, she 
 was sobbing her sweet eyes out in an agony of regret at 
 her desertion, and without the slightest idea how to pro- 
 ceed in a search for him. 
 
 Oh, it was maddening! 
 
 As the train approached its destination, however, Dale 
 became calmer. He had a trial to meet, and he resolved 
 to put on the best possible appearance till the first of it 
 was over. He made himself as presentable as possible in 
 the toilet room of the Pullman he occupied, and when 
 Mr. Hayne parted from him, as he considerately did be- 
 fore Kingdon took the suburban train for Newton, he 
 entertained no doubt that it was quite safe to do so. 
 
 "Good-bye," Gordon said, pressing his hand. "'1*11 
 see you in a day or two, or sooner, if you want me. These 
 sea-voyages are depressing to many people, and a little 
 longer time on land will set you right. My regards to 
 your father and-^the Brucea."
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 CHAPTEE XIT. 
 
 MRS. BRUCE'S ADVICE. 
 
 The welcome which Kingdon Dale received at the 
 paternal mansion was as warm as he could have ex- 
 pected. This was the first time he had been separated 
 o long from his father, and the elder gentleman evinced 
 his pleasure at seeing him again in no uncertain man- 
 ner. It was some minutes before he noticed the ravages 
 that mental distress had wrought in his son's face, and 
 he was easily satisfied with the explanation that the 
 weather at sea had been rough. The talk lasted until 
 half an hour after the dinner was ended, and then Ed- 
 ward Dale suggested that Kingdon go without further 
 delay to pay a call on his sweetheart. 
 
 "I have not sent them word of your arrival, as no 
 doubt you thought I would do," he said, " so your com- 
 ing will be a perfect surprise. Duty is duty, my boy, 
 and must be considered before everything else. Don't 
 stay too long, for I want another talk before I go to bed. 
 How good it seems to see your face again!" 
 
 Still numbed to some extent by the events that had 
 occurred, Kingdon could not help being impressed by 
 the happiness of this relation, who had been, until with- 
 in the past few weeks, the dearest person on earth to 
 him. Before leaving the house he stooped over the in- 
 valid's chair and received a kiss on the forehead, after 
 the old fashion. 
 
 The path that led across the field was bordered now 
 with the country flowers of early summer. The grass on
 
 130 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 both sides was green and fragrant, and the trees were in 
 the full beauty of their foliage. The sun had set, but 
 the evening was still suffused with light, and the air was 
 as balmy as that of the islands he had visited in mid- 
 winter. But the heavy weight on his heart overpowered 
 all else. 
 
 Ida Bruce was sitting on a veranda of her house, and 
 discerned his form some moments before he arrived. 
 She called her mother in a low voice, through an open 
 window, and when Kingdon approached near enough to 
 make the action discreet, both ladies waved their hands 
 to him and descended the steps. Their quick eyes saw, 
 even before any words were exchanged, that he was in 
 no very joyful mood, and they adapted themselves sagely 
 tc the situation. 
 
 The usual expressions of pleasure at greeting a wan- 
 derer were given as Mr. Dale approached and took their 
 hands, and his answers were courteous enough. Still, 
 no spectator would have imagined, from his manner, 
 that the younger of these ladies was affianced to him, 
 and that the day set for their wedding was only three or 
 four months distant. 
 
 Mrs. Bruce had a great deal of tact, and she so man- 
 aged the conversation that all went smoothly. She made 
 him talk of the things he had seen, and alluded to her 
 own foreign journeys, taken many years before. Ida did 
 little but listen, and she did that very well. Her smile 
 was ready when the situation called for a smile, and her 
 fair brow darkened with apprehension when anything 
 was said about the dangers of the deep. 
 
 The welcome home that both of them gave him was 
 of a kind that would have gone far to influence his 
 future, had he not been impervious to everything in that 
 direction. He thought, in the pauses of the conversa-
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 131 
 
 tion, of the imperative necessity to let these people un- 
 derstand his true situation regarding them, before many 
 days had passed. And the complications that were cer- 
 tain to arise filled him with dismal forebodings. 
 
 Excusing himself at an early hour, on the plea that his 
 father was sitting up for him, Kingdon strolled back to 
 his home. It was impossible for Edward Dale to let the 
 occasion pass without alluding to the marriage, or speak- 
 ing of the congratulations that had been showered upon 
 the match from all sides. 
 
 "I don't believe you half realize, even yet, what a 
 lucky chap you are," he said, with a chuckle. "Your 
 fiancee possesses every requisite for marital happiness. 
 She is young, beautiful, wealthy, and you are the only 
 man who has ever in the remotest degree won her affec- 
 tion. It will be but a little while now before this will be 
 yours, and you are already the envy of every marriage- 
 able young man within thirty miles of Boston." 
 
 It was no time to get involved in a controversy as im- 
 portant as this would be. 
 
 "I think I shall have to go to bed," Kingdon re- 
 marked, with a wearied look. " I am still very tired with 
 my voyage, and you know I have a great deal of business 
 to do to-morrow." 
 
 The father acquiesced, though with a trace of disap- 
 pointment in his countenance, for he dearly loved the 
 subject on which he had launched out. 
 
 The next day Kingdon escaped the discussion he so 
 much dreaded. He was closeted with members of his 
 firm until evening, and came home so late that his father 
 had already retired. The succeeding day he managed to 
 get leave of absence, with some business for the concern 
 in New York as an excuse, and hastened to Newton to 
 pack a gripsack.
 
 132 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 " Well, business is of the first importance/' comment- 
 ed Edward Dale, sadly, as he heard the news. "You 
 won't be gone more than a day or two, I suppose. 
 There's time to run over and explain it to Miss Bruce, I 
 hope. You've only spent a couple of hours with her 
 iince your long absence." 
 
 Yes, Kingdon said, he would have the carriage stop 
 there on the way to the train. He would return from 
 the metropolis as soon as his affairs there would let him, 
 of course. Then, fearing to talk too long, he bade his 
 father a hasty farewell, and entered the cab which had 
 been summoned. 
 
 His interview with the Bruce ladies was even briefer. 
 They accepted his statement about the urgent and sud- 
 den business call without demur. 
 
 Arriving in New York, he went first to the postoffice, 
 but there were no letters for him there. He drove next 
 to the hotel he had intended to occupy, and found that 
 no lady or other person had called to inquire for him or 
 to leave any message. He received both of these pieces 
 cf information with equanimity, for his nerves had re- 
 covered something of their natural strength, and, be*- 
 Bides, he had not allowed himself to expect anything 
 different. There was no danger that he would collapse 
 this time or require the services of a physician, although 
 his regard for Margaret Rivers had suffered no diminu- 
 tion. 
 
 He next sought out the services of a detective bureau, 
 and arranged for two of their " best " men (these 
 bureaus never have any other kind) to search the city 
 for the missing one. He told them her correct name, 
 gave ihem the best description he could of her, and de- 
 tailed the manner in which she had evaded him. There 
 was no need to hint at the relations he had sustained to
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 135 
 
 her, but he did say that they had arrived from Gibraltar 
 on the same steamer, giving the name of the vessel and 
 the date. 
 
 The detectives commenced in a businesslike way by in- 
 terviewing several hundred hackmen. Strange to say, 
 they found the one who had taken Miss Eivers and Mr. 
 Dale to the hotel and had then, at her request, driven 
 her to a boarding house. Returning to their office they 
 found Kingdon there this was on the second day and 
 one of them went with him to the house designated. 
 
 The lady evidently wanted, who had, however, given 
 the name of Eoper, was easily identified at the boarding 
 house. But she had remained only one night, and the 
 landlady had an impression that she had said something 
 about leaving the city. 
 
 As he listened to these words, Mr. Dale felt a deep 
 conviction that all the efforts he might put forth to find 
 this girl would be wasted; that fate had swept her with 
 one gigantic wave out of his reach forever. He went 
 back to the detective bureau, paid his bill, saying that 
 he needed nothing more at present. Then he pulled 
 himself together, and went about the business matters 
 which had served as an excuse for his visit to New York, 
 giving no indication to the gentlemen whom he met 
 that a pressure calculated to drive one to insanity was 
 weighing him down. 
 
 He returned to Boston on the third day, firmly con- 
 vinced that he had lost his heart's love, and that he 
 would never find her in this world; firmly convinced, 
 also, that there was no consideration even the health of 
 his father that could induce him to become a living lie 
 in the person of Ida Brace's husband. There was a con- 
 flict before him from which he would ordinarily have
 
 134 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 shrunk to the extent of submission. He must meet it 
 now, whatever its results, with a firm front. 
 
 The following day was Sunday, and in the afternoon 
 he went to visit his fiancee. The sky was bright and the 
 weather warm, and Ida responded with alacrity to his 
 suggestion of a walk. The route selected was one seldom 
 traveled much, a by-road shaded by tall trees. When 
 they were out of hearing of any other person, Kingdon 
 began the disagreeable task that lay before him. 
 
 " Ida," he said, in a strained voice, " I have brought 
 you here to make a confession." 
 
 A confession! She started at the word, for she dread- 
 ed what might follow. When a young man talks of mak- 
 ing a confession to the girl to whom he is engaged it 
 may well excite her apprehension. 
 
 " I want to tell my story in a straightforward way," 
 he continued, " and when it is ended I want you to for- 
 give me, if you can. The plain truth is that I wish a re- 
 lease from the promise I made you before I went away. 
 It is not from any fault with you; but the fact is, I have 
 gone on in this matter against my judgment from the 
 first merely to please my father. It was by his request 
 almost by his command that I spoke the formal 
 words to you on the eve of my departure. His health 
 was so poor that I feared to cause him distress, and at 
 the time I really thought I could carry out the plan he 
 has had so long at heart. But, Ida. I cannot do it. I 
 have no such sentiment toward you as a man should 
 have toward his intended wife. I like you extremely 
 well. I should be glad to think I could always share 
 your friendship. Marriage should, it seems to me, be 
 accompanied with warmer feelings. Unpleasant as it 
 must be for you to hear this, it is even more unpleasant 
 for me to tell it. I will go further and say that I con-
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 135 
 
 sider it a plain duty to make this revelation, for a mar- 
 riage between people under these circumstances could 
 hardly result otherwise than as a curse to both of 
 them." 
 
 Whatever had entered the mind of the girl when the 
 theme of a confession was entered upon, she was wholly 
 unprepared for what she heard. It was quite impossible 
 for her to make a verbal reply until some minutes had 
 passed, during which the walk was continued slowly and 
 in silence. 
 
 " I wish you had had the courage to tell me this be- 
 fore you went away," she said, at last. " It would have 
 been easier then to settle the matter. Now, when our 
 engagement has been published broadcast, when all our 
 friends have come to consider it as a matter of days 
 when we are to be married, the embarrassment will be 
 terrible. But, I don't mean to influence you in any way. 
 If what you say is your full determination, I shall only 
 have to confide it to my mother and abide by her ad- 
 vice." 
 
 He was relieved that she took it so calmly. He had 
 half expected an outburst of tears, with perhaps a tor- 
 rent of vituperation. 
 
 " One thing is sure," he said. " You are not, accord- 
 ing to the popular use of the term, ' in love ' with me. 
 There will be no heart-breakings." 
 
 " No," she answered; " but to a woman there are other 
 things that count for almost as much. Pride, fear of the 
 slurs of the world, the rearranging of a life that seemed 
 already mapped out. Then, this has been a favorite 
 hope of both our parents. I have thought it my first 
 duty to obey my mother. I have conceived that her re- 
 gard for me was so great that her advice could wisely be 
 followed. It will be a great blow to her, I feaJf."
 
 136 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND, 
 
 Tears had come at last into her eyes and voice, but 
 they were quickly overcome. Ida Bruce did not like 
 to exhibit her feelings to a man who had just spoken to 
 her in this manner. 
 
 " Well, Ida, I have a great deal of trouble before me, 
 as well as you, if that helps console you," said Kingdon. 
 " It has cost me something to come to these conclusions. 
 My father has been accustomed to give his commands 
 to me and rely upon my implicit obedience. For the 
 first time since I can remember I shall have to make a 
 stand against his will. I would not do that if I could see 
 any honorable way to please him." 
 
 He thought, as he thus prated of honor, of the Eng- 
 lish girl, and his cheek reddened. Then he thought of 
 her desertion, and he paled again. 
 
 " Let us go toward home," suggested Ida. 
 
 She wanted to be as soon as possible under the guns 
 of the maternal fortress. 
 
 There was nothing more to be said, and they retraced 
 their steps. Arriving at the house, Kingdon was about 
 to say good evening, when the girl interrupted him. 
 
 " I want you to come in and tell mother what you 
 have told me," she said. " It will have to be done some 
 time, and the sooner it is over the better." 
 
 He would have been glad to escape, but he saw no 
 valid reason to refuse her request. There were just so 
 many steps on this disagreeable road, and he might as 
 well take this one now as later. 
 
 He was ushered into a parlor and left alone for what 
 seemed an interminable length of time. But Mrs. Bruce 
 came at last, and Ida with her. The widow was ap- 
 parently quite composed, while the daughter could not 
 conceal the fact that she was still much perturbed.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 137 
 
 t 
 
 " Good afternoon, Kingdon," was Mrs. Brace's greet- 
 ing, at the same time taking his hand. "Will you 
 please tell me as near as you can what you have been 
 telling Ida?" 
 
 " Well, it's just this," responded Mr. Dale, " in a nut- 
 shell. I had never been in love. I yielded to my father's 
 wishes, trying to make myself believe I should feel dif- 
 ferent about it when the time came to marry. And I 
 don't feel any different. I feel more than ever as the 
 day approaches that I cannot carry out the plan. I 
 think it honest and fair, both to her and to me, to state 
 the case exactly as it is." 
 
 Mrs. Bruce bowed soberly. 
 
 "Have you said this yet to your father?" she in- 
 quired. 
 
 " No. I wanted to present the situation first to Ida, 
 and ask her to release me. My father is an invalid, and 
 I dread the effect on his shattered health. I thought, 
 Mrs. Bruce, that when you and Ida saw the situation as 
 it is you would help me close the engagement in a way 
 that would mitigate my father's regret. Surely," he 
 added, desperately, "there is nothing worse than to 
 inarry without love!" 
 
 The widow was silent for a moment. 
 
 " I do not think," she said, " that you realize the po- 
 sition in which this places Ida. Her engagement to you 
 was announced six months ago, with your consent. Con- 
 gratulations have been showered upon her from a hun- 
 dred quarters. Nearly ever since your departure mil- 
 liners and dressmakers have been at work making prep- 
 arations for the wedding. It has even been settled who 
 are to be invited, and most of the guests have been pri- 
 vately apprised of the fact, in order to give them time 
 for preparation. An engagement is considered in these
 
 138 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 days a very serious thing; not a promise to be broken be- 
 cause one of the contracting parties takes some strange 
 notion into his head. As to your idea of not loving Ida 
 sufficiently, that comes in thousands of cases after mar- 
 riage instead of before. I cannot say that I had a senti- 
 ment for my husband strong enough to be called t love ' 
 on the day we were united, but our regard for each other 
 grew hourly. My dear Kingdon, I believe you have been 
 working yourself into a state of hypochondria, from 
 which a little rest and right thinking will relieve you. 3 ' 
 
 But to this he shook Ms head decidedly. 
 
 "Nothing whatever will change me," he exclaimed. 
 " There are reasons which, were I at liberty to give 
 them, would convince you/' 
 
 " Are these reasons anything," asked the lady, slowly, 
 " that reflect upon my daughter?" 
 
 "No! no! A thousand times no!" he cried. 
 
 " Then she must not suffer from them," said Mrs. 
 Bruce, decidedly. " Speaking in her name, I must de- 
 clare that we shall hold you to your agreement." 
 
 " Shall insist," replied the lady, impressively, " on 
 your carrying out your promise of marriage." 
 
 Mr. Dale rose. 
 
 " I never shall carry it out," he said. " Never, Mrs. 
 Bruce." 
 
 " People have changed their minds before now," was 
 the quiet answer. " When you have given a few hours 
 more thought to this matter you will conclude that to 
 inflict suffering upon a young and innocent girl does 
 not accord with your highest and best views of what is 
 right. It is too late to withdraw from your plighted 
 word. Before Heaven you are pledged to each other al- 
 most as truly as if the clergyman had pronounced the
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 139 
 
 words. But let us say no more about it now. I want 
 you to think this over for another day." 
 
 He uttered an exclamation of distress. 
 
 " Thinking it over will only drive me mad!" he re- 
 plied. " I have thought it over now until I can hardly 
 cat or sleep. I know it is an injury to Ida; if it was only 
 to me I could hear it better. To refuse to marry her pre- 
 cipitates a train of troubles; to marry her would let loose 
 an avalanche!" 
 
 Not daring to trust himself to say more, the young 
 man left the house, and walked toward his own home. 
 He meant to tell his father everything, and have an- 
 other chapter over with, but he saw the doctor's carriage 
 at the door, and learned from a servant that Mr. Dale, 
 Sr., had just been prostrated by one of his attacks, and 
 was in a very precarious condition.
 
 140 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 IDA WARNED. 
 
 During the days that immediately followed, Kingdon 
 Dale found the overwhelming love for his father, that 
 had been for nearly his entire life a passion with him, 
 returning with irresistible force. To sit by the side of 
 his parent, ministering to him according to the doctor's 
 directions, was his only consolation. Edward Dale was 
 fully conscious, but too weak to talk, except in occasion- 
 al whispers. It seemed to his son, however, that he 
 could read but one thought in his father's mind, and 
 that this was connected with the marriage on which he 
 had so long set his heart. 
 
 The physician, at the end of a week, acceded to a re- 
 quest from the sick man to permit Mrs. Bruce and her 
 daughter to enter his chamber for a few moments, sep- 
 arately. The widow, with rare judgment, contented her- 
 self with a moment's stay and a word or two of encour- 
 agement. Ida, who had not seen Kingdon since his an- 
 nouncement of his changed views, came at once to the 
 bedside and, stooping over the invalid, imprinted a kiss 
 on his wasted cheek. 
 
 Nothing that she could have done would have pleased 
 Edward Dale more than this. His eyes lighted up as she 
 rose. Beckoning to Kingdon to draw near, he took one 
 of his hands and one of Ida's and placed them together 
 between his own. It was a significant expression of his 
 anticipation, even in his weak condition the uppermost 
 thought in his brain.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 141 
 
 "With rare discretion Miss Bruce allowed the incident 
 to pass without doing anything to annoy her fiance, if 
 such he might at that time be called. Certainly the 
 young man did not think it an opportune moment to un- 
 deceive his trusting parent. When the interview in the 
 sick room was ended, Kingdon spoke a few words, re- 
 lating strictly to his father's illness, to the ladies in an 
 ante-room, and they returned to their home. 
 
 It was a month before the doctor said Edward Dale 
 might leave his bed, and during nearly the whole of 
 that time his son was in almost constant attendance 
 upon him. Toward the last, Kingdon permitted himself 
 to run into the city and attend to a little business, but 
 his absences were brief. As soon, however, as his father 
 was pronounced out of danger, he was anxious to absent 
 himself for a week or so. He made the excuse at home 
 of affairs to attend to in New York, while the need of 
 rest answered the same purpose at the office. He dread- 
 ed a renewal of the conversations with his father, that 
 would certainly refer to the marriage. And, besides, he 
 wanted to seek once more for traces of his lost Mar- 
 garet. 
 
 Kingdon had not entirely given up his endeavors to 
 locate the English girl, even since he returned to Boston 
 and Newton. He had placed a "personal" advertise- 
 ment in two of the metropolitan papers, asking Miss M. 
 E. to communicate with the friend whom she had left 
 so suddenly in New York on such and such a date, and 
 promising not to interfere with her in any way, pro- 
 viding her circumstances were satisfactory to her. He 
 had also offered a reward to whoever would send him 
 information of the present whereabouts of a young wo- 
 man answering her description, and had this announce- 
 ment inserted not only in New York papers, but in those
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 of Brooklyn, Buffalo, Cleveland, Chicago and Philadel- 
 phia. 
 
 Nothing had been heard from either of these efforts, 
 and the heartsick young man felt a wild longing to visit 
 again the city where he had last seen his idol, in the 
 mad hope that the quicksand which had engulfed her 
 might cast her up again at his feet. 
 
 He made his plans so deftly that there was no time for 
 his father to talk with him, beyond a simple good-bye. 
 Arriving at New York, he conferred again with the firm 
 of detectives he had formerly employed, and assisted 
 them in searching the various lines which they recom- 
 mended. A week was passed in this way, a weary week 
 without a trace of sunshine, and the result was noth- 
 ing whatever. 
 
 What Mr. Dale sustained in the way of mental pain 
 during that week the reader can only imagine. His love 
 for Margaret Rivers had grown with every hour since she 
 left him. His apprehensions for her safety doubled as 
 time passed. He even feared that in desperation she had 
 committed suicide, and among the searches he made was 
 a careful inspection of the self-destroyed in a dozen 
 cities, from lists sent to the detectives by request. 
 
 When he returned to Boston his belief that he would 
 never see Margaret again was solidified. He was ac- 
 tually giving up all hope. Life would be to him a 
 dreary existence unlit by love of woman, a mere round 
 of business cares, of plain duties. 
 
 The other thing that troubled him now was the in- 
 evitable conflict with his father. He had seen this 
 parent hovering on the edge of the grave too recently 
 not to dread the encounter. But come it must; there 
 was no escape. 
 
 Kingdon had had no private conversation with the
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND* U3 
 
 Bmces since he announced his intention of breaking the 
 engagement, but on the day of his return from New 
 York Mrs. Bruce sent him a note asking for an inter- 
 view. It served at least as an escape from his father's 
 tongue, and when the evening arrived Kingdon pre- 
 sented himself at the widow's residence. 
 
 Ida was not present, for which he was thankful. Dur- 
 ing two hours he was subjected to Mrs. Bruce's ingenious 
 arguments, delivered with all her art and in her most 
 agreeable manner. She presented the case in a dozen 
 lights, in every one of which he seemed a wretch unfit 
 for decent society if he carried out his scheme. Still he 
 was not moved. He replied to everything that he had 
 made up his mind; that he could not bring himself to 
 consummate the marriage. He was very sorry for Ida; 
 he would give anything if he could assuage her pain; but 
 marry he would not. 
 
 There was nothing for Mrs. Bruce to do after this but 
 to call on Mr. Dale, Sr., and acquaint him with the 
 situation. The anger of the father, when he learned 
 what she had to say, knew no bounds. When his son 
 came home that night he turned upon him savagely, 
 and in a torrent of rage demanded his reasons for this 
 conduct. Kingdon seemed calloused by what he had en- 
 dured, and did not mind as much as he once would have 
 done the epithets that were dinned into his ears. He 
 replied over and over that he did not love Ida, and that 
 nothing would persuade him to wed her. 
 
 Seeing that the mode of attack he was using had no 
 effect, Edward Dale's tone changed suddenly to a plead- 
 ing one. He said he had a terrible secret to reveal to his 
 son one that made this marriage an absolute necessity. 
 
 "For years, Kingdon," he explained, seeing the as- 
 tonished look in his son's eyes, " I have been in financial
 
 144 THEIR MARRIAGE BONB. 
 
 difficulties. I have prevented the truth being known, 
 but if my real condition was public to-day I should be in 
 the bankruptcy court. Miss Bruce is rich. With an al- 
 liance between our families everything would be easy. 
 You are my only child; Ida is the sole heir of her father. 
 It would kill me to have my affairs dragged into the 
 newspapers. To refuse this marriage would, therefore, 
 not merely destroy the happiness of a beautiful girl 
 who has trusted you, but would end the life of one who 
 has no other hope to preserve a hitherto honored name." 
 
 The young man was astounded. He had imagined, 
 while giving no special thought to the matter, that his 
 father was comfortably off in this world's goods, cer- 
 tainly far beyond the line of poverty. They had always 
 lived well. A snug sum had been paid into the spice 
 concern to secure the partnership. When he mentioned 
 these things he was told that the money put into the 
 firm was borrowed on heavy interest, and with this mar- 
 riage in view as the only way in which the notes could be 
 taken up. 
 
 It was not a very honorable transaction, and he felt 
 it to the quick, but he could not reproach a father for 
 what he had done, however ill-advisedly, for his benefit. 
 
 He began to grow desperate. One by one all the props 
 that had sustained his life had fallen away. His deter- 
 mination not to marry grew weaker, even before he was 
 aware of the change. Since he could not hope for hap- 
 piness himself, was it worth while to send to the grave 
 in disgrace the parent who had lavished upon him the 
 love of a full heart? 
 
 " Father," he said, with a deep sigh, " let me think of 
 it a little longer. Give me a few days to consider." 
 
 During those few days Kingdon Dale thought inces- 
 santly. Margaret was lost to him he no longer felt any
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. U5 
 
 doubt of that. There had heen but two beings who 
 had ever claimed his love, and only one of them was 
 left. Was it not best, on the whole, to make this sacri- 
 fice? 
 
 But the marriage it would be a dreadful thing with- 
 out love on either side! Well, he would leave that to 
 those who insisted on its consummation. If Mrs. Bruce 
 and her daughter were satisfied, he could stand it as well 
 as they. He loved Margaret Eivers, whether she were 
 dead or living, and he never could love another woman. 
 If he told Ida that his heart was cold toward her, and 
 that he was sure it never would be otherwise and if she 
 accepted him on those terms she would have no right 
 to complain afterward. 
 
 Would she consent to take him when he had told her 
 this? He decided to test the matter. 
 
 Going directly to the Bruce residence, he sent up his 
 card, with a line on the back, asking Ida to see him 
 alone. Before coming down she had a council of war 
 with her general-in-chief, whose advice was to promise 
 anything whatever in order to bring about the marriage 
 on the day originally set. Mrs. Bruce believed fully 
 that, if the pair were once united, time and not a very 
 long time, either would dispose of all their troubles. 
 She had a shrewd knowledge of men, and great confi- 
 dence in the power of her daughter's beauty to win over 
 a recalcitrant husband. 
 
 " I have decided to be very plain with you, Ida," said 
 Kingdon, when he had taken the hand of Miss Bruce, 
 and seen that the door was latched behind her. " In the 
 first place, do you still wish to hold me to my promise?" 
 
 Miss Bruce bowed modestly in the affirmative, at the 
 same time smiling faintly. She bore evidence of em- 
 barrassment and of a tendency to silence.
 
 146 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 "Very well," said the young man, drawing a long 
 breath. " Now, my father has had a serious talk with 
 me, and I have concluded to please him if I can do so 
 and be perfectly honest to you. I do not love you. If 
 you take me in marriage you will take my name only. 
 I shall have to repeat the words of the service, or to 
 give assent to them, saying I will love, honor and cherish 
 you till death, and keep myself unto you, and all that 
 sort of thing; but it must be understood between us, 
 now, that I shall do nothing of the kind." 
 
 A complete wave of crimson spread over the girl's face 
 as she listened. 
 
 " Excuse me," she said, rising and moving toward the 
 door, " I would rather you said such things to my 
 mother." 
 
 " Whether I say them to your mother or to you," he 
 replied, " I shall never vary from them. I have re- 
 solved that, if you insist upon holding me to my word, 
 I will go through the marriage ceremony with you. Be- 
 yond that I promise nothing." 
 
 It was not polite to utter these expressions; Mr. Dale 
 knew that very well; but he was in no mood for polite- 
 ness. While announcing his change of mind as far as 
 the ceremony was concerned he had the feeling of a man 
 coerced, and he meant to make his dose of medicine un- 
 palatable to others as well as to himself. He was de- 
 termined, if they forced him into an alliance which he 
 detested, that y should do so under no misconcep- 
 tion. They might lead the horse to water, but they 
 never should compel him to drink. 
 
 Miss Bruce bowed low as she left him, partly to con- 
 ceal the quiver of her lip and partly to hide the tears 
 that sprang in spite of all her efforts to her eyes. She
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BUND. U7 
 
 sought her mother, and fell on that lady's neck with an 
 outburst of sobs. 
 
 " Oh, mother!" she cried. " It is too much to ask of 
 me! I cannot go on with this. He has become positive- 
 ly awful!" 
 
 Slowly the widow drew the truth from the trembling 
 mouth, and a flush of indignation mantled her brow as 
 she heard it. 
 
 " I will go down and see him," she said, sternly. 
 " Compose yourself, my child. The marriage must take 
 place. When it is over he will forget the silly notions 
 that now cloud his brain. It must take place!" she 
 added, with determination. " Don't mind his ravings, 
 Ida. In a week after you are wedded he will forget that 
 he ever talked such nonsense, and you will laugh to 
 think you heeded it." 
 
 Descending to the parlor, Mrs. Bruce greeted her 
 caller with her ordinary good-nature. She had a game 
 to play, and diplomacy must be used to the last. 
 
 " What is the matter with you, Kingdon?" she asked, 
 with an air of raillery. " How can you frighten my lit- 
 tle girl with goblins?" 
 
 " I have told her just what I mean," he responded, 
 doggedly. 
 
 " And I respond in her name that we will hope for a 
 better disposition on your part," said Mrs. Bruce, with a 
 smile. " There are now but a few weeks before the date 
 that has been announced, and everything will be ready 
 on our side. It is gratifying to hear that you have over- 
 mastered vour idea of breaking your word. As to the 
 rest, let us leave that for the future. If love has not yet 
 lodged in your bosom, await its advent. Ida will accord 
 you every consideration, now that she understands your 
 mood."
 
 148 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 He was surprised to find her in this quiet temper. He 
 would have been better prepared for an outburst of 
 anger, which he could not help feeling his conduct in 
 some measure deserved. 
 
 " And if love for your daughter never finds lodgment 
 in my breast?" he said, slowly. " What then?" 
 
 Mrs. Bruce winced a trifle, but the smile of good- 
 humor remained. 
 
 " And is this all that now stands between you young 
 people?" she asked, as if it was very little, indeed. 
 
 " All!" he repeated. " Yes, it is all. I do not think 
 you realize what an l all ' it is." 
 
 " Then let us turn the conversation into more agree- 
 able channels," she replied. " Half the marriages that 
 take place nowadays are on that very basis. t Nine-tenths 
 of them come out better than those of young hearts 
 filled with ineffable affection. The wedding will take 
 place, with your consent, on the day announced so long 
 ago. You will, I presume, cover from the world any 
 scruples you may have. Your father's dearest wish will 
 be gratified; I shall be delighted, and as for yo.u and Ida, 
 you certainly enter the connubial state with a full un- 
 derstanding on a most important matter." 
 
 There was no use in talking longer with this lady, and 
 Kingdon acquiesced, only saying that he would like a 
 word with his future spouse before he departed. He 
 wanted an explicit understanding between the three 
 parties to this compact. 
 
 " It is not necessary," said Mrs. Bruce, affably. " Ida 
 understood you perfectly in the first place, and you 
 may guess how the repetition of such things to a young 
 girl may be distressing. I assure you we have a perfect 
 accord and that I represent her wholly in promising that
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 149 
 
 she shall take your hand in marriage, admitting the men- 
 tal reservation you desire." 
 
 When the young man had gone, Mrs. Bruce went im- 
 mediately to her daughter's room, where, as she feared, 
 she found Ida stretched on a bed, dissolved in tears. 
 
 " It is done," said the voice of her mother. " There 
 will be no talk of change after this." 
 
 " But/' sobbed the girl, raising her woe-begone coun- 
 tenance, "does he say he never will love me, that he 
 will always treat me with coldness?" 
 
 "Pshaw!" was the reply. "What difference does it 
 make what a man says when he has a fit of temper? 
 The point is gained that the ceremony is to occur on the 
 date previously arranged."
 
 150 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 CHAPTEE XVI. 
 
 MATRIMONIAL PERJURIES. 
 
 To the many friends of the Dale and the Bruce fam- 
 ilies, all the struggles through which Kingdon Dale had 
 passed were entirely unknown. The wedding had been 
 announced long before for a certain date, and on that 
 date it was to be solemnized. 
 
 Edward Dale brightened perceptibly when his son in- 
 formed him that there was to be no more discussion 
 that he had given his definite word to Mrs. Bruce and 
 would abide by it. The elder gentleman thought as 
 lightly as did the widow of the dangers of uniting in 
 wedlock a couple whose relations would lack something 
 of harmony. 
 
 As to the financial troubles that annoyed him, the 
 elder Dale felt that he would be perfectly justified in 
 presenting the case to Mrs. Bruce when the ceremony 
 was over, and asking a loan from the large fortune which 
 her daughter was to inherit. 
 
 The preparations for the event, now but a few weeks 
 away, progressed with renewed rapidity. Kingdon 
 passed his time at his business office, paying occasional 
 brief and very formal calls to his betrothed, and plunged 
 in a constant state of dejection, from which it was im- 
 possible to rally him. His visits to Ida were without any 
 further talk in reference to the matters that divided 
 them. He was going to do the straightforward thing, 
 and to carry it off in such a way that the public would 
 never guess his real state of mind. That was the new 
 contract he had assumed.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 151 
 
 Gordon Hayne called occasionally to see his friend, 
 sometimes at the office of the spice company, sometimes 
 at the Newton home. He alone of the outsiders knew 
 that something not down in the bills had happened. He 
 had seen Kingdon in New York in a state but a shade 
 removed from insanity. He knew that in spite of every 
 effort the young man was still possessed with the mental 
 disturbance that had then manifested itself. It was easy 
 to see that the coming marriage was without joy to him 
 that it was to be entered upon unwillingly, or, at 
 least, without enthusiasm. 
 
 Gordon spent many an hour in contemplating the sit- 
 uation, but was unable to guess at the mystery. He could 
 not ask direct questions, and there was nothing to do 
 but watch and wait. 
 
 Mr. Hayne was a frequent visitor, also, at the home of 
 the Bruces. His presence there served to divert the at- 
 tention of Ida from her unpleasant dilemma, for he was 
 bright and entertaining, in spite of the muffled tone 
 which he always used to her when they were alone. It is 
 something to any young woman to feel that an eligible 
 youth considers her unusually attractive that he would 
 propose for her hand if he believed there was any chance 
 of success; and this was the attitude that Gordon con- 
 stantly seemed to assume. 
 
 " You are engaged to my friend I will be true to him 
 in all my words and acts yet I do not think him worthy 
 of you; and my heart is heavy, both for my loss and his 
 gain." 
 
 Eeduced to plain words, this was what Gordon Hayne 
 seemed to say over and over to Miss Bruce, without ut- 
 tering a single syllable that could be construed into 
 these statements.
 
 152 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 And Ida sympathized with him in his distress, and 
 thought him the most noble and magnanimous of men. 
 
 " It is only two weeks," he said to her one day, " be- 
 fore you will be a wife. How infinitely happy the man 
 must be who looks forward to that hour!" 
 
 It was not irony, she said to herself, as the untruth 
 smote on her brain, for certainly Gordon could not know 
 the secret so carefully treasured between the two fami- 
 lies. It was the honest expression of a manly heart. 
 
 " It seems," he continued, " as if Kingdon was going 
 to take away my right to be a friend to you. I shall 
 have to reconstruct all my conduct when your name is 
 Mrs. Dale." 
 
 " By no means," she responded, quickly. " I shall 
 like you just as well as ever, and hope to see you just aa 
 often. Marriage does not compel one to reconstruct her 
 list of friends; and you know you stand very high in 
 mine." 
 
 The emotion that he could so well simulate made him 
 turn his head away, lest she read too much in his con- 
 Tulsed countenance. Then he rose and said he remem- 
 bered an engagement in the city. 
 
 "I am sorry you are going so soon," she told him. 
 " Come as frequently as you can. And don't fill your 
 head with silly notions that I that mamma and I will 
 like you less after after my marriage." 
 
 She held out her white hand to him, and he touched it 
 with his own. 
 
 " Have you decided where you will live?" he asked. 
 
 "We shall have rooms in the city for the present," 
 she replied, choking a little at the thought of leaving 
 home. 
 
 He lingered a moment, as if he had something else to 
 say, and then, bidding her a sudden " Good-bye," went
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 153 
 
 thoughtfully out of the house and down the walk. She 
 watched him till he was out of sight, with a " Poor fel- 
 low!" on her lips and a throb of the purest pity in her 
 heart. 
 
 The wedding took place at the Bruce residence in- 
 stead of in church, on account, as was stated, of the ill- 
 health of Edward Dale, which made it safer for him to 
 avoid the uncertain temperature of a public edifice. 
 Kingdon forced himself to appear in such a manner as 
 to evade criticism. In the morning, being alone a mo- 
 ment with Ida, he had said to her, " You understand 
 fully what my responses to the clergyman will mean?" 
 and she had answered with a bow and a blush. 
 
 Her part in the ceremony was quite as trying as his, 
 but both bore themselves well. All the expressions with 
 which the church hedges in a couple who have declared 
 their desire to marry were uttered by the clergyman and 
 acceded to verbally by the man and the woman. 
 
 The large gathering of friends of the contracting par- 
 ties could not suppress a murmur of admiration as Ida 
 appeared. She was gowned with even more than her 
 usual taste, and her luxuriant beauty of figure showed 
 to the fullest advantage. Gordon Hayne, who stood 
 near Sidney Brooks, had a twinge that was not all sim- 
 ulated, as he gazed at her. It flashed through his mind 
 that his resolutions never to marry would receive a se- 
 vere wrench could he set back the hands of the clock a 
 few months. To own that delectable creature in fee 
 pimple was surely worth the sacrifice of freedom which 
 he had sworn never to make. 
 
 As for Mr. Brooks, his habitual paleness was accentu- 
 ated. He saw, beyond the room in which he stood, a 
 eteamship on the Atlantic, and this man who was to 
 join himself in wedlock, sitting by the side of another
 
 154 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 woman, devoted passionately to her every word and 
 movement. He saw the passenger list, with the names 
 of Mr. and Mrs. Taylor. And this was less than three 
 months ago! 
 
 It seemed as if he ought to speak when the clergyman 
 asked if any one present knew any reason why this mar- 
 riage should not proceed. But he did not, and the fate- 
 ful proclamation that this couple were now man and 
 wife struck like a note of evil on his ear. 
 
 The end of the service marked the beginning of the 
 reception. Mr. and Mrs. Dale took the hands of a hun- 
 dred friends and bowed their thanks for the congratu- 
 lations showered upon them. With admirable nerve 
 they answered smile for smile, and neither flinched in 
 the least, except on two occasions. The husband wa* 
 manifestly disturbed when he saw Mr. Brooks in front 
 of him; and the bride knew that her cold fingers trem- 
 bled when she placed them in the palm of Gordon 
 Hayne. 
 
 " God bless you, my dear son!" came from the lips of 
 Edward Dale, when his turn arrived, and the face of 
 Mrs. Walden Brooks was positively radiant with satis- 
 faction. 
 
 It was too late to start that night on the wedding jour- 
 ney, which was to be taken to the "White Mountains, and, 
 therefore, a suite of rooms at the Vendome had been en- 
 gaged for temporary use. About ten o'clock the wedded 
 pair bade good-bye to their friends, who would still re- 
 main for later festivities, and were driven toward the 
 city. 
 
 " Well," said Kingdon, after a few minutes of silence, 
 ' it is done." 
 
 " Y-e-s," was the monosyllabic response, uttered in a 
 trembling tone.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 15$ 
 
 "And you remember " 
 
 " Oh!" she interrupted, " don't let us talk of anything 
 unpleasant just yet. I am fearfully nervous, from a 
 hundred reasons, and a very little will make me give 
 way." 
 
 At these pleading words a wave of shame swept over 
 him. He saw how needlessly repellant he had been 
 making himself to her. 
 
 "Ida," he cried, "I ask your forgiveness. I mean 
 to make your situation as agreeable as is possible under 
 the circumstances. Like you, I am in a nervous mood, 
 for, although I am a man, I have had things to make me 
 almost a child. Here," he added, impetuously, " let me 
 take your hand. Let us agree to be friends, if nothing 
 else." 
 
 She gave him the hand, encased in its glove, and he 
 held it from sheer forgetfulness. 
 
 " We ought to reach the hotel in an hour, easily/' he 
 continued. " That will give a long night to rest, as the 
 train we are to take does not leave until nine. It is a 
 beaiitiful ride to the mountains I think you told me 
 you had never taken it? Everything in nature there is 
 iovely at this season lovelier to my mind than in mid- 
 summer. The foliage has begun to change and some 
 of the effects are magnificent. Then the hotel at which 
 we shall stay is one of the best, and the drives in the 
 vicinity are superb." 
 
 She listened to him gladly, thankful that he should 
 pursue any subject except the one she dreaded, and he 
 talked on at random until the lights of Boston began to 
 thicken around them. At last the carriage turned a 
 corner, and they were in stately Commonwealth avenue, 
 passing the homes of princes, built, as is the street itself.
 
 156 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 upon filled land rescued a quarter century ago jfrwa the 
 ocean waves. 
 
 At the hotel he had but to mention his name, and the 
 apartments engaged were instantly placed at his dis- 
 posal. 
 
 " We had hest say good-night," said Kingdon, when 
 they were alone, " as we both feel fatigued after the 
 events of the day. I have engaged three rooms and a 
 bath, en suite. You will sleep there, only separated by 
 this little partition from me. If you want anything in 
 the night, call me at once. If you rap on the wall ever 
 so little I shall hear you." 
 
 He had turned away and taken a step from her, when 
 his bride, overcome by the strange sensations that filled 
 her head, touched him on the sleeve. As he faced her 
 again, she opened her arms and stretched them toward 
 him. 
 
 " Mr. Dale Kingdon," she said, gutturally, " don't 
 leave me like this! I am afraid to be alone in this house 
 I never was in such a position before. If I am shut 
 away from you by a door I shall have hysterics." 
 
 Her alarm was too real to be doubted, and he has- 
 tened to calm her. 
 
 " Both of the bedrooms open from this salon," he said, 
 " as you can see. I will leave my door wide open, and 
 you can do the same. There is no entrance to the suite 
 except this one here, which I will now bolt as well as 
 lock. We shall be substantially in one room all the 
 time." 
 
 She followed with her eyes the objects at which he 
 pointed. 
 
 " But there is no need of haste," she protested, though 
 in a mollified tone. " It is still early. We can sit up a 
 little while."
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 157 
 
 " Certainly, if you wish. I am not sleepy, to tell the 
 truth. Wouldn't you like a lunch sent up?" he said, 
 good-naturedly. 
 
 She assented, thinking it the surest way to consume 
 time, and, besides, she felt a trifle faint and thought c 
 mouthful of something would do her good. 
 
 The effect of the lunch was what should have been 
 expected. It restored to both of them something of 
 their natural serenity. A little before one o'clock Ida 
 proposed of her own accord that they retire. Her last 
 request of her husband was to make sure that he left his 
 door wide open. Then she closed her own, and in a sort 
 of instinct locked it. He had to knock several times in 
 the morning before he could awaken her, and, on com- 
 paring notes at breakfast, he admitted that he had also 
 slept very well. 
 
 The first night of their married life had been passed 
 with no especially disagreeable episode. This was some- 
 thing. 
 
 On the way to the railway station an event occurred 
 which set all his blood in motion. He was talking in an 
 ordinary tone to Ida about the journey they had begun, 
 when, happening to glance from the carriage window, 
 he saw a figure on the sidewalk that caused his words 
 to freeze in his mouth. Either there were two women in 
 the world who looked exactly alike, or he had beheld 
 Margaret Rivers in that Boston street! 
 
 His impulse was to stop the carriage and run after 
 her, but the reasons against this procedure came to his 
 mind contemporaneously with it. He might not find 
 her in that crowd, with the diverging streets running in 
 fifty different directions. If he succeeded, there could 
 be no more inopportune occasion to learn what he want- 
 ed to know. He had barely time enough to catch the
 
 158 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 train. He could neither abandon his wife nor ask her to 
 accompany him on his peculiar mission. 
 
 If the English girl was living in Boston, as from her 
 manner he judged she must be, it would be no very diffi- 
 cult matter to locate her. Boston was not New York. 
 A determined attempt would be almost certain to suc- 
 ceed. And, besides, the ceremony of yesterday, which 
 bound him to the woman at his side, cut him off forever 
 from the wild hope that Margaret's discovery would have 
 brought two days earlier. He would hunt for her, and, 
 if permitted, would assist her; but to marry her that 
 was now a dead dream of the dead past. 
 
 The carriage was flying rapidly along, for the clock 
 on the outside of the station was in sight, and the driver 
 realized that he had no time to spare. Kingdon's sud- 
 den start had not been lost upon his companion, but she 
 had, of course, not the faintest suspicion of its cause. 
 No mood that he would be likely to assume was in any 
 danger of surprising her particularly. 
 
 The horses dashed up to the archway and entered it. 
 The driver descended with alacrity and helped out his 
 passengers. 
 
 " Three minutes left," he said, brightly. " You have 
 your tickets, I understand. Third track on the right." 
 
 During the hours that passed before the Crawford 
 House was reached, Mr. Dale said very little to his wife. 
 He ordered a lunch for both at the proper hour, and 
 assisted in disposing of it. The rest of the time he was 
 wrapped in thought. Ida was not wholly displeased at 
 this turn in affairs, for silence was at least better than 
 a return to distasteful subjects, of which she was con- 
 stantly in dread. Kiagdon's manner was courteous, and 
 she did not deem it wise to disturb his reverie. 
 
 The first thing he did after arriving at the Crawford
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 159 
 
 House was to carry out a project which he had formed 
 during the day. He wrote this letter and mailed it to 
 Sidney Brooks: 
 
 MY DEAR SIDNEY: I am going to ask you to do some- 
 thing for me as a lawyer. I wish you to treat it as a busi- 
 ness matter, and to keep it secret as between an attorney 
 and his client. I think you will remember a Mrs. Taylor, 
 who crossed from Gibraltar to New York on the same boat 
 with you last summer. She is in Boston and I want her 
 address. I authorize you to employ whatever help you 
 need. She is also sometimes known by the name of Mar- 
 garet Rivers. Her personal description is known to you. 
 
 Upon securing any information which you believe of 
 value, please send word immedately to the Crawford 
 House, N. H. f where I expect to remain a week. Very 
 truly, KINGDON DALE. 
 
 N. B. This is a business matter solely, and never to 
 be mentioned between us in any other way. K. D. 
 
 This letter was delivered to Mr. Brooks on the fol- 
 lowing afternoon at his Boston office. He read it 
 through twice, and then wrote the following answer: 
 
 Mr. Kingdon Dale, Crawford House, N. H. 
 
 MY DEAR SIR: In answer to your communication, Just 
 received, allow me to say that the business which you de- 
 sire me to transact does not come within the sphere of the 
 legal profession. I have never, let me add, followed the 
 trade of a spy or a pander. Yours, SIDNEY BROOKS. 
 
 When this reached Mr. Dale he was for a time in a 
 etate of rage bordering on dementia. But as time passed 
 he began to realize how the matter had presented itself 
 to the mind of Mr. Brooks. He knew that Kingdon had 
 passed for ten days, at least, as the husband of the wo- 
 man he now sought, and every action of his, from the 
 day he met him on the boat at Gibraltar to that of his
 
 160 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 marriage with Miss Bruce, proved that the pretense was 
 faJse. Now, while on his wedding journey, he had ap- 
 parently sought to enlist his friend's aid in renewing the 
 illicit relations. It certainly had not an agreeable look, 
 and Dale was disposed, the more he thought of it, to for- 
 get the bitter sarcasm of the lawyer's letter. 
 
 However, the necessity of finding Margaret and of as- 
 certaining if she had the necessaries of life still re- 
 mained. His marriage had not relieved him of that 
 duty. 
 
 Not feeling inclined to intrust his mission again to the 
 mails, he passed a long and dreary week at Crawford 
 Notch without doing anything about the matter. His 
 mind was so filled with it that he never thought of en- 
 tering on further debate with his wife as to what their 
 future should be, for which she was thankful. Her life 
 at the hotel was not very cheerful, but it might have 
 been worse had he chosen to discuss on all occasions 
 the unhappy questions that divided them. 
 
 The week ended at last, and the wedded pair returned 
 to Boston, where the rooms they expected to occupy for 
 the winter were ready to receive them. 
 
 Both were glad to return. She wanted to see again 
 her idolized mother, and he believed it could be but a 
 few days now before he would stand face to face with 
 Margaret.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 161 
 
 CHAPTER XVH. 
 
 "WHAT DO YOU EXPECT?" 
 
 Mr. Gordon Hayne, as the reader is already aware, was 
 not a man of impeccable virtue. Possessed of a hand- 
 some face and figure, dressed invariably by the best 
 tailors, endowed with the most agreeable manners, and 
 with a fortune to spend as he pleased, he found much 
 satisfaction in the society of the fair sex, and did not 
 limit his acquaintance to those of unquestionable char- 
 acter. A pretty face was as apt to attract him among 
 the crowd on a sidewalk or at a public entertainment 
 as if he had been introduced in the most formal manner. 
 
 He tried to believe himself a very miserable person 
 when he returned to his rooms in the city on the night 
 of Ida Bruce's marriage, The physical charms of the 
 "bride had appealed to his senses in an unusual degree. 
 He had known women who were beautiful; but none of 
 them possessed the attractions that had gone to this un- 
 appreciative fellow, who was as fit, he thought, to judge 
 their value as a wooden image. 
 
 He tossed restlessly on his bed, and found sleep only 
 when the morning light began to illumine the room in 
 which he lay. The next day he was gloomy, and hid 
 himself from his usual associates. The third day he 
 was a little better, but still morose. In the evening he 
 went for a walk among the by-streets of the city, for 
 the sake of getting the air and still run no risk of meet- 
 ing acquaintances. 
 
 The extent to which the present Mrs. Dale had filled
 
 162 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 his mind did not, however, prevent his noticing each 
 comely face or pretty form that he encountered. And 
 at one of the corners he met a young girl in whose per- 
 sonality he was immediately interested. 
 
 The face into which he looked was not exactly hand- 
 some, and yet it had a fascination ahout it that fixed 
 and held the gazer. There seemed a whole history in 
 the large dark eyes, at once shrinking and inquiring. 
 The girl's dress was very plain, and its materials were 
 black. 
 
 Interested to a remarkable degree almost before he 
 was aware of it, Mr. Hayne followed the figure, which 
 had turned at the corner and gone down a side street. 
 He was idle; he had nothing else to do. If anything 
 came of this pursuit, well and good; if nothing resulted, 
 what would it matter? 
 
 It was soon apparent that the girl was walking in 
 much the same way as himself, with no particular des- 
 tination. She crossed her own path several times, go- 
 ing up a street and down another, returning as often as 
 otherwise to the original location. 
 
 Several times light remarks were addressed to her by 
 young fellows at the corners. The only attention she 
 paid to these observations was to quicken her pace, with- 
 out turning her head. 
 
 Mr. Hayne managed to keep the .girl in sight without 
 appearing to observers to be on her trail. He noted 
 with pleasure that she was not, apparently, a woman of 
 the town, judged by her lack of attention to the remarks 
 alluded to. She was either what she seemed, a virtuous 
 girl, or searching for a lover who was expected to keep 
 tryst in this vicinity. She was poor, without a doubt, 
 and those who possess wealth always expect to derive an
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 163 
 
 advantage from th poverty of others. She was vrorth 
 following. 
 
 At last, seeing the girl go into a street which had 
 but one outlet, Gordon waited and watched her. She 
 must either enter one of the houses on this short way or 
 return. It was soon evident that she was going to pur- 
 sue the latter course, for she showed signs of surprise 
 when she reached the end of the street and discovered 
 that it went no farther. She came back slowly, and 
 when she reached Mr. Hayne there were no other per- 
 sons within hearing. 
 
 "I beg your pardon, miss," he said, in a pleasant 
 voice, and stepping in front of her. " May I speak to 
 you for a moment?" 
 
 It was the first time she had noticed him, for her eyes 
 had been fastened upon the pavement during most of 
 her walk. She looked up with a startled surprise. A 
 glance told her that he was a very well-dressed gentle- 
 man, and her natural instinct whispered that he could 
 want nothing good of her. 
 
 " I do not know you," she responded, in a trembling 
 voice. " You have no right to address me." 
 
 She resumed her walk, more rapidly than before. But 
 Gordon, who knew the lessons of street acquaintance 
 by heart, was not in the least discouraged by the rebuff. 
 He followed after her, murmuring in the sweetest voice 
 that she ought not to misjudge him; that she had his 
 highest respect, and that if she would give him but a 
 minute he would prove the assertion. 
 
 It was a sight familiar enough in most cities. As the 
 pair progressed on their journey through the streets 
 they were observed by more than one passer, who 
 stopped and surveyed them with an air of amusement. 
 The girl was walking fast, with her face turned from the
 
 164 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 man at her side, whose persistence Buffered nothing from 
 the manner in which his addresses were received. 
 
 The crowdi increased as the girl neared he? home, 
 oiid laughter came from various groups at the spectacle 
 [ created. But the feather that was to break the hack of 
 the camel came when a half-drunken loafer reeled from 
 the brilding against which he had been leaning, and put 
 his hand on the girl's shoulder, while he shouted a whol- 
 ly unprintable invitation in her ear. 
 
 The girl stopped as if she had been shot, and shook 
 with fear. The disagreeable quality of Mr. Hayne's itrt<- 
 portunities were as nothing compared with this assault. 
 His tones had at least been kindly, his words those of a 
 gentleman. In the dilemma in which she wag now 
 placed, she turned instinctively to him for protection 
 from the greater danger. 
 
 " Oh, sir!" was all she could articulate, but her wish 
 was clearly understood. Taking the loafer by the coat- 
 collar, Hayne whirled him around like a top, ending by 
 leaving him in a heap on the pavement, Luckily the 
 fellow found no sympathy from his companions, who 
 seemed rather pleased than otherwise at his mishap. 
 Seeing that the coast was now clear, and that an op- 
 portunity wholly unexpected had placed the young wo- 
 man under obligations to him, Gordon drew her not un- 
 willing arm through his own, and lost no time in putting 
 a good distance between them and the late collision. 
 
 '* I thank you very much, indeed," said the feminine 
 Toice, when they were safely away from the place. " And 
 now, if you please, leave me here I am obliged to go 
 home " 
 
 " My dear child," interrupted Hayne, " let me at least 
 accompany you to your door. You are possessed with a 
 notion that I intend you some harm, and are almost aJ
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE POND. 165 
 
 much afraid of me as you were of that rascal below. I 
 am a gentleman, and have lived in Boston all my life. I 
 wonder what there is about me that makes you want to 
 run away. Do I really look such a terrible villain?" 
 
 She stole another glance at him, and was partially re- 
 assured by the engaging smile on his countenance. 
 
 "It is not that, sir," she stammered, ~but there is 
 nothing in common between a poor girl like me and an 
 elegant gentleman like you. If you wish to do me a real 
 kindness, you will leave me here." 
 
 "To be insulted by another drunken wreteh 1" be ex- 
 claimed. "No, I must see you safely home. It is evi < 
 dent you are not used to the treatment you have 
 just received. I judge that you are a stranger in Bos- 
 ton." 
 
 In spite of herself she was being drawn into acceding 
 to his proposition, and she felt herself growing less and 
 less afraid. 
 
 ts I have not lived here long," she responded, resuming 
 her walk. " I do not know the streets very well. I only 
 left my room to breathe the air, with no partiquja? er- 
 rand in view." 
 
 He laughed brightly. 
 
 t( How remarkable!" he said. f( That is exactly my own 
 case. I had spent the whole day indoors, and felt the 
 necessity of a stroll. Do you live far froni here?'' 
 
 " No." She named the street, " J think it is only five 
 minutes. I can find it, sir, alone, and I am sure no one 
 will molest me now/* 
 
 But he would not listen. The street to which she was 
 bound, he said, was on the direct road he was obliged 
 to take, and it was best that they go together, 
 
 At the doorway of a poor lodging house she stopped, 
 and announced that this was where she lived.
 
 166 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 The extreme poverty of the surroundings would or- 
 dinarily have prevented a wish to go farther, But there 
 was something about this girl that made Mr. Hayne es- 
 pecially loth to leave her. 
 
 " Does your family live here?*' he asked, surveying the 
 front of the house. 
 
 " I have no family," she replied, unguardedly. " I am 
 all alone/' 
 
 The sympathy written on his face aroused an answer- 
 ing chord in the girl's breast. She did not like to be im- 
 polite to him. 
 
 "Don't think me inquisitive," he said, "but I am 
 wonderfully interested in you. You work for a living 
 I suppose?" 
 
 She bowed her head with a blush. 
 
 "I do sewing." 
 
 " It does not pay very well, I am afraid." 
 
 She did not answer. She was trying to think of the 
 best way to end the conversation. She had reached her 
 home now, and there was no longer any excuse for his 
 remaining. 
 
 A rough-looking man came out of the house and ad- 
 dressed the lodger. 
 
 " It is against the rules to talk on the sidewalk in 
 front of the house," he said, harshly. " Either take your 
 friend inside, or go away with him." 
 
 Quick to seize the opportunity, Mr. Hayne took ad- 
 vantage of the girl's confusion, and replied, " Certainly, 
 we will go in. Just for a moment," he added, in a low 
 tone. 
 
 There was no way to stop him except by a debate, 
 which she did not wish her landlord to hear, and the 
 girl led the way uneasily to the third floor, where she 
 paused with a key in her hand.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 167 
 
 "You claim to be a gentleman," she said then, in 
 tones of entreaty. " If you are one, I beg you to leave 
 me." 
 
 " I will do so in three minutes, if you insist/' he re- 
 plied, lowering his voice. " To go now would subject 
 me to suspicion from that pleasant proprietor of yours. 
 Why, my child, I wouldn't harm you for the world." 
 He took out his watch. " Three minutes. I swear it!" 
 
 She inserted the key in the lock and let him follow 
 her. The room into which they entered was poorly 
 furnished, but as neat as possible. He took in every- 
 thing at a glance. 
 
 " You see," she said, biting her lips. " There is noth- 
 ing to attract you. I am a poor, working girl; nothing 
 more." 
 
 " As I supposed," he replied, sympathetically. " But 
 I also see that you were not always in that rank. You 
 have had an education. Your speech and manners show 
 that you were well-born and have moved in better so- 
 ciety. No, don't speak just yet. I am mindful of my 
 promise. I have hardly two minutes left. I want you to 
 do me a favor." 
 
 She surveyed him with wide-open eyes, her expres- 
 sion not unmixed with doubt. 
 
 " I want you to accept a little present." 
 
 She shrank away, exclaiming, " No, no!" but he per- 
 sisted. 
 
 " Let us not waste time." He held the watch in his 
 hand while he talked. " I have a fortune, the income of 
 which is several times greater than my wants. There 
 is no sensible reason why you should not accept a trifle, 
 when it is so evident that you can find good use for it." 
 
 He laid several bank notes on the table.
 
 168 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 " What do you expect in return for this money ?" she 
 asked, huskily. 
 
 " In return for the money nothing. To be candid, 
 however, I do hope that you will let me call again, now 
 I have convinced you that my purposes are honorable." 
 
 She sat down and commenced to weep. 
 
 " By the promise I made, and which I mean to keep," 
 said Hayne, " I have less than a minute left. Before I 
 go, will you tell me your name, so that I may have the 
 appearance of an honest man when I call for you?" 
 
 There was a knock on the door. Hastily wiping her 
 eyes, the young woman went to open it. 
 
 "Well, have you got the rent?" said a voice, which 
 Hayne recognized at once as that of the disagreeable 
 person he had seen below stairs. 
 
 " To-morrow I will get it," she answered, with a feel- 
 ing of shame that the gentlemanly appearing visitor 
 should hear the demand. 
 
 " You have told me that twice. I do not run a free 
 lodging house. I shall wait no longer. In the morn- 
 irg you will be put out. You understand?" 
 
 The man's steps were heard descending, and the girl 
 caine back into the room with renewed tears on her 
 cheeks. 
 
 Mr. Hayne stood there awaiting her. 
 
 " My time has all expired," said he, putting the watch 
 in his pocket. " Shall I go?" 
 
 She looked at him with blinded eyes, and then at the 
 Lank rotes on the table. 
 
 "Don't leave that money," she said. "I cannot 
 take it." 
 
 " You prefer to let the fellow who just called execute 
 his threat?" 
 
 She drew a long breath as of despair.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 169 
 
 '' If he puts you out to-morrow, what will you do ?" 
 
 " Ah!" ehe cried, lifting her hands, " there is always a 
 last resort!" 
 
 "And you would rather embrace it than take this 
 money, which I oiler you freely?" 
 
 She seemed to consider the two horns of the dilemma. 
 
 " I promised you to go in three minutes," he said. " I 
 am ready to keep my word. But is it not best that I sit 
 down with you a moment longer and see if we cannot 
 have an understanding?" 
 
 She nodded, motioning him to resume his seat. In a 
 moment so very desolate it wag better to run some riska 
 than to be left alone with her grief. 
 
 " In ;he first place/' he continued, " take that money 
 and put it in your purse. It is yours. I shall not touch 
 it again under any circumstances." 
 
 He pushed it toward her with the hat that he held in 
 his hand, and she obeyed him mechanically, though with 
 evident reluctance. 
 
 " Now, won't you tell me your name?" 
 
 "Why do you want it?" 
 
 " Because I feel that we ought not to end our ac- 
 quaintance here. Because I believe that, when you have 
 thought a little longer, you will say I may come again." 
 
 " But," she exclaimed,, turning red, " you can have 
 only one object. A man does not seek the company of a 
 poor girl like me unless " 
 
 She was unable to proceed. 
 
 "And you won't even tell me what name they call 
 you?" he asked, with his most winning smile. 
 
 " You could find that by asking below," she replied, 
 as if in thought. " It is Mrs. Taylor." 
 
 " That is better," he said, affably. " But, are you 
 married, then?"
 
 170 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 Thinking that the money she had accepted entitled 
 the giver at least to courtesy, the young woman an- 
 swered: 
 
 " I lost my husband several months ago." 
 
 " I beg your pardon/' he said. " I am sorry to arouse 
 unpleasant memories. Is there anything else you would 
 like to tell me?" 
 
 " You have been so kind," she faltered, " that I don't 
 know how to thank you. I was, as you surmised, 
 brought up in a different station from the one in which 
 you see me. Last summer circumstances compelled me 
 for the first time to seek my own livelihood. I have 
 made a sorry mess of it. The only thing I could find 
 ^as sewing, and the rates paid are so low that even this 
 room and the most meagre food cannot be earned by the 
 longest hours. I had a little money, and it is gone. But 
 for your gift, to-morrow would have seen me shelter- 
 less." 
 
 " You have no relations or friends to whom you can 
 appeal?" 
 
 " None nearer than England; and they have already 
 responded that there is nothing to be expected from 
 them. They are nearly as poor as I." 
 
 The pathos of the story made its impression upon 
 him. Certainly at that moment he had no intention of 
 wronging this unhappy creature. All that was senti- 
 mental in his nature cried out for her. 
 
 " You spoke a little while ago of a 'last resort/ " he 
 caid. " What did you mean by that?" 
 
 " Death!" 
 
 "That is dreadful, for one so young to contemplate." 
 
 " I can die, but not dishonor myself! " said she. 
 "I have no wish to die, though life has lost every 
 charm for me. I am willing to work, as long as my
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 171 
 
 strength lasts, at any employment, no matter how disa- 
 greeable. The person who would secure me but that op- 
 portunity I should call friend, indeed." 
 
 "The best thing for you," said Hayne, "is to let me be 
 what my impulse proposed from the first, your banker 
 and adviser." 
 
 She looked at him searehingly. 
 
 " It is not possible," she said, " that there is a man in 
 the world who would render such a service without hope 
 of reward. You you are not a clergyman?" 
 
 He shook his head, with another smile. 
 
 " Simply a rich young idler, who has taken a fancy 
 to aid you. Think it over, Mrs. Taylor. I don't like 
 that formal title. Your Christian name would suit me 
 better Elizabeth, Anna, Katharine " 
 
 " Margaret." 
 
 " Think it over, Margaret. It is not much for me to 
 offer. I would like to have you move to a rather better 
 house I'm not in love with your landlord. But don't 
 agree to anything now. Only say that I may come to- 
 morrow, or the next day. You'll feel better acquainted 
 when you've seen me the second time." 
 
 What was she to do? She said he might come that 
 she would be very glad to have him come. It seemed 
 like a dream that such a gentleman should have taken 
 an interest in her, based on anything but the craving of 
 a sexual nature. Her purse, except for his present, was 
 empty. She could not refuse a helping hand held out 
 in such a manner. 
 
 " Good-bye, Margaret," he said, rising. 
 
 " Good-bye. I do not know what to call you yet." 
 
 He did not mean to give her his right name so 
 soon. 
 
 "You may call me Kenneth Kane," he said and left 
 her.
 
 172 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 THE ANGEL OF DEATH. 
 
 At the end of their week in the White Mountains, Mr. 
 Mrs, Kingdon Dale returned to Boston. Kingdon 
 explained to his friends that clutieg at the office made it 
 impossible to stay longer, They " settled down " in the 
 apartments that had been engaged, and, as fa? as the 
 world could see, were like any other young married 
 couple, except, perhaps, a little more sensible in showing 
 their affection before outside parties. 
 
 The very first thing the young husband did, even be- 
 fore going to visit hip father, was to see a detective and 
 put him in possession of Margaret Rivera' description. 
 He had given up the dearest hope of his life that of 
 calling the English girl his bride but the duty of see- 
 ing to her comfort and securing her a means of liveli- 
 hood was still his. A dreadful mischance had prevented 
 his finding her a few days sooner, in which case the cur- 
 rent of three lives might have been changed. 
 
 He could not help believing that if he had met Mar- 
 garet after she had tried the hard task of supporting 
 herself, that the difference in the career he could have 
 offered would have overcome her scruples. But the 
 evil was done. He was wedded to a woman, toward 
 whom his attitude could never be more than that of a 
 very distant friend, and Margaret was to face her fate, 
 with or without his aid, as time might decide. 
 
 His reception at home, when he reached Newton, waa 
 most cordial. He had Ida with him, and his father lav
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 173 
 
 ished his warmest caresses on both. Mrs. Bruce was 
 sent for, and accepted an invitation to dinner, as it Waa 
 easier for Edward Dale to receive his friends than to go 
 abroad. There was all the necessary dissembling, and 
 the meal passed without special event. When it was 
 over, the guests divided into two parties, and each 
 parent was alone with his child. 
 
 ''Well, Ida?" was the anxious inquiry of Mrs. Brucej 
 as the door between them and the hall swung as if by 
 accident, so as to partially close the portal. " Have you 
 had a happy honeymoon thus far?" 
 
 The bride flushed. 
 
 "I am not going to answer any questions, mother," 
 she said, pleasantly, " and you need ask me none." 
 
 This attitude was so different from any she had ever 
 shown before that the widow Could not help expressing 
 in her countenance the surprise she felt. She looked at 
 her daughter searchingly, to see if any answer might be 
 found in her face, but tkere was nothing to satisfy her, 
 
 " Let Us talk of you, and what you have done with- 
 out me," added Ida. "How have you borne the first 
 long separation we have ever had?" 
 
 "But, Ida, you should tell me at least this: Has he 
 been kind to you?" 
 
 " He certainly has. Now, please drop the Subject and 
 do not refer to it again. If there was anything very 
 wrong I should surely tell you; but I am now a married 
 woman, and cannot discuss my husband with any per- 
 son not even with the dearest and best mother in the 
 world." 
 
 Coupled with the softest and gentlest of tones there 
 was the most perfect determination. The widow felt, 
 with a twinge of pain, that the child she had parted 
 from a week before would never coine back to her. With
 
 174: THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 I 
 
 the judgment which years had taught her she refrained, 
 however, from pursuing the line she had begun, and led 
 the conversation into the details of the journey to New 
 Hampshire. 
 
 The married couple had ascended Mount Washington, 
 passed a night there, ridden to the Glen House, after- 
 ward visiting the Flume and the other prominent fea- 
 of the mountains. Between the lines of this recital the 
 mother sought in vain to gather something that would 
 answer the query uppermost in her mind. 
 
 Ida had learned discretion and reticence, if nothing 
 more, during the first week of her wedded life. 
 
 In the library, on the other side of the hall, a door had 
 also swung on its hinges, pushed by the cane of a 
 elderly gentleman in an armchair. 
 
 " You rascal!" he exclaimed, jocosely, " are you satis- 
 fied now that I did you a service by driving your no- 
 marriage nonsense out of your head? I thought a week 
 with that adorable creature would change your mind. 
 You are the happiest and the best-looking couple in 
 Massachusetts to-day." 
 
 Kingdon had schooled himself to expect some such 
 remark, and he smiled into his father's face, though a 
 cold shudder came to his heart. 
 
 " How has your health been?" he asked. " I did not 
 expect you would write anything to worry me, whatever 
 way you felt." 
 
 " Splendid," was the reply. " I haven't been so well 
 for years. One of my chief troubles has been my worry 
 about you; yes, in spite of my faith that you would come 
 out all right, I fretted a great deal till it was over. There 
 is only one thing now to wholly relieve my mind, and 
 that is the money I shall have to ask of Mrs. Bruce. 
 StiD, I need but fifteen thousand dollars, a baga-
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 175 
 
 telle to her. Why, Bruce was said to be worth six hun- 
 dred thousand when he died, and they can't have used 
 half the income for the past fifteen years." 
 
 Kingdon bowed. He felt few compunctions of con- 
 science or of pride that his father should have to ask 
 the mother of his wife for pecuniary aid. They had 
 been bound to bring about the marriage let them set- 
 tle these things to suit themselves. He was getting 
 hardened. 
 
 " Did you notice," chuckled Mr. Dale, Sr., " how they 
 withdrew to the parlor as soon as they could safely do 
 so. Women are daft on secrets. And you actually came 
 near losing that prettiest of her sex! You would never 
 have forgiven yourself if you had seen her married to 
 another man. There's one, too, who would have given 
 everything he possesses to have owned her. He came 
 out here after you went away, and he looked like a 
 ghost." 
 
 The surprise on the son's face asked the question his 
 lips did not utter. 
 
 "You never saw it never dreamed of it? No, I'll 
 wager not," said the father, with another chuckle at his 
 own shre\\ dness. " Why, Gordon Hayne has been madly 
 in love with Ida for ever so long. Now, don't get ex- 
 cited!" he added, as the son gave an unmistakable start; 
 " he's never said a word nor given a hint to her, know- 
 ing that she was picked out for you. But he couldn't 
 hide his sentiment from an old sharper like me. I've 
 seen him in her drawing-room, when the house was full 
 of people, talking to everybody else, keeping as far away 
 as he could, and yet hardly taking his eyes from her. 
 At the wedding he was as white as a sheet, the honest, 
 loyal fellow! She was destined for you, that was enough
 
 176 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 for him. He'd have dropped dead before he'd have 
 spoken. Lordl" 
 
 The closing expression conveyed to Kingdon the 
 depth of Mr. Hayne's honest passion more fully than the 
 most elaborate sentence could have done. 
 
 "I wish to God he had not been so particular!" he 
 cried, in his soul. "He little thinks what a favor he 
 would have done me if he had paid no attention to my 
 ' rights ' and pressed his suit to a favorable conclusion." 
 
 But this is not what he said to his father. 
 
 " I never noticed any of these things," he remarked, 
 and it was evident their interest had ceased for him. " I 
 did not think Gordon a man who would ever marry." 
 
 " He never will, now," said the father. " He's had a 
 atab under the fifth rib." 
 
 At an early hour the young couple took a train for 
 the city, with affectionate farewells from their elders. 
 Mrs. Bruce tried to read in the eyes of her son-in-law 
 what she could not learn from her daughter, but the 
 page was equally blank. 
 
 " What time shall I expect you to-morrow?" asked 
 Ida, composedly, as she received the maternal kiss of 
 parting. 
 
 " About twelve. I shall only stay to lunch, as I have 
 friends to dinner." 
 
 At noon Kingdon would be away. He did not lunch 
 at home. 
 
 " You're not going without kissing me, too, are you?" 
 said Edward Dale. " You are my daughter, now, you 
 know." 
 
 Ida flashed a look of inquiry at her husband, who 
 nodded impatiently. What was the sense in bothering? 
 She might kiss every man in Newton for all he cared.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 177 
 
 In the train they said little to each other, but hefore 
 they retired she had a talk with him. 
 
 " You were very nice to mamma. I want to thank 
 you." 
 
 " Your mother has always been very nice to me," he 
 replied, coolly. 
 
 There was a pause of some seconds. 
 
 " Sho wanted to know mamma did about 
 whether everything was all right between us." 
 
 " And you told her, of course!" he snapped. 
 
 " No. That is what I want to say. I said I never 
 should discuss my husband with anybody, not even her. 
 I felt sure that you would adopt the same course toward 
 me that you would not tell any one there was the least 
 division." 
 
 He was somewhat mollified by her statement, and by 
 the manner in which it was made, but he had too many 
 weights upon his heart to act very cheerfully. 
 
 " I shall do my best to conceal everything," he said. 
 *' And I think you have acted wisely. Your mother is 
 a shrewd woman, however, and you will have to be al- 
 ways on guard." 
 
 Ida seemed to accept the situation. He was pleased 
 at her attitude, for he had nothing but the best of 
 wishes for her, and he knew her position would not be a 
 happy one. They had got to live under the same roof, 
 and meet many acquaintances, with the beet face they 
 could. He did not want his affairs the theme of public 
 gossip, if it could he helped. 
 
 Only two days passed before Edward Dale addressed a 
 letter to Mrs. Walden Bruce. In it he stated the ex- 
 treme reluctance with which he unveiled to her a con- 
 dition of his affairs which he had succeeded, by the 
 strongest efforts, from revealing to the world in gen-
 
 178 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 oral. The comfortable fortune which he had at one tim 
 possessed had been lost, with the exception of the house 
 in which he lived, by unfortunate investments. Even 
 the homestead was pledged, though the writings were 
 not recorded, for more than half it was worth. These 
 troubles had come coincidental with loss of health and 
 bodily strength, and it was idle to think of remedying 
 them by any action of his. 
 
 " As you and I," he added, " have but one child each, 
 now united in wedlock, and as the undoubted future of 
 our lands should keep them in one property, I make this 
 proposition: I will deed my estate to Kingdon and Ida, 
 jointly, if you will advance the sum necessary to relieve 
 it from debt. I have not much longer to live, and my 
 wants will be few. My son is in business which cannot 
 fail to give him a livelihood and enable him to care for 
 me the little time I shall remain on earth." 
 
 It was in the middle of the morning that this note 
 was sent to Mrs. Bruce's residence, and it was less than 
 half an hour later that the lady came to Mr. Dale's, in a 
 state of high excitement, and asked to see him alone. 
 
 " What does this letter mean?" she cried, as if dis- 
 tracted. " It cannot I am sure it cannot be anything 
 but a joke a witticism of yours to try me!" 
 
 " I wish heartily that it was not," answered Mr. Dale, 
 sadly. " But, alas! there is no hope for it." 
 
 The lady staggered to a chair, and, falling into it, cov- 
 ered her face with her hands and sobbed hysterically. 
 Never having seen her except in the happiest moods, 
 Mr. Dale was intensely shocked at this exhibition. 
 
 " My dear lady," he said, " calm yourself. How can 
 there be anything in my proposal to cause this outburst? 
 True, I might have told you of my pecuniary condition 
 before my son's maxriage, but I had no reason to sup*
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 17 
 
 pose it would make the slightest difference with you. 
 We have been friends so long I knew that you and Ida 
 were rich- -and " 
 
 Mrs. Bruce struggled to speak several times before 
 she could make herself heard. 
 
 " Knew we were rich?" she ejaculated, at last. " Why, 
 we are beggars! Every dollar my husband left has van- 
 ished. One investment after another has proved bad. 
 My estate, like yours, is involved, and I intended to ask 
 your aid before another week had passed. Poor Ida!" 
 she cried, with sobs. " She has sacrificed herself for 
 nothing!" 
 
 The invalid sat up in his chair and eyed her stupidly. 
 
 " Your property all gone, too!" he repeated. " Your 
 fortune of over half a million! And Ida sacrificed her- 
 self? Explain." 
 
 The woman tried to regain her composure, for it was 
 evident that this man's sufferings were as acute as her 
 own. 
 
 " It is gone, I tell you!" she said. " We hardly own 
 the furniture, and a loan secures the place we live in. 
 Ida never liked the thought of marrying your son. She 
 leaned toward another match, a young man who wor- 
 shiped her, and who has an undoubted fortune in his 
 own right; but I, in a silly desire to join these estates, 
 and believing you the rich man you were reputed, held 
 her to my will. I have wrecked her life and my own! It 
 is a judgment on me!" 
 
 The invalid leaned toward her and drank in the 
 words, feverishly. 
 
 " The young man you refer to is Gordon Hayne," he 
 said. 
 
 " Yes, with more than a million to his credit, good 
 family, intelligence, everything. And my miserable
 
 180 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 child has married your son, in the face of his assertion 
 that he will never be a husband to her; that all she shall 
 ever have will be his name! Is it not enough to drive 
 one mad? How can I meet her and confess my fearful 
 error ?" 
 
 Afraid that she would go into a fit of hysteria, Mr. 
 Dale suggested in a low voice that his visitor should be 
 conducted back to her residence by one of his servants, 
 and postpone the rest of the conversation to another day. 
 She accepted the idea, and the housekeeper, being sum- 
 moned, escorted her from the house. 
 
 Edward Dale sank back in his armchair. So this was 
 the end of the kindness he had tried to do Kingdon. 
 Married to a girl he did not like, with that awful ante- 
 nuptial agreement! Married, with a bankrupt father 
 and a bankrupt wife; with only the meagre income of a 
 sub-partnership; all his bright prospects gone. 
 
 How could the father face the son? How could he 
 "bear to look into the countenance of that beautiful girl 
 whose lips he had kissed two days ago? How could he 
 hold up his feeble head when the sheriff came to oust 
 him from the home where he had lived for thirty years 
 to hear the laugh of the thoughtless crowd at one who 
 had made a failure of life after more than half a century 
 of struggle? 
 
 His dear boy, Kingdon! He recalled the little fellow 
 in his cradle, the child coming home from school, the 
 young man whose future he had deemed secure. 
 
 Who would have guessed that the handsome fortune 
 of Walden Bruce had succumbed to the sea worms that 
 gnaw without being perceived until the crash comes? 
 
 Existence had been too great a burden to the sick man 
 before this; now it could be borne no longer. 
 
 He knew where, in a cupboard, was a little phial from
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 181 
 
 which he was wont to take carefully, by the doctor's or- 
 ders, a few measured drops when all other methods fail 
 to induce sleep. 
 
 He took his stout cane in his hand and tottered'to the 
 closet. He reached for the bottle, and, securing it in 
 his shaking fingers, returned to his armchair. 
 
 But ere he could poiir out the deadly fluid, the Dealli 
 Angel anticipated his act. A pain seized him in the 
 left side, that made him drop the poison and cry out. 
 
 A servant who ran in, attracted by the cry, saw that 
 consciousness had fled. 
 
 The physician, summoned immediately, said that a 
 clot of blood had coagulated in the brain, and that the 
 life of Edward Dale was ended.
 
 182 THEIR MARRIAGE BON-D. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 WATCHING FOR HIS PREY. 
 
 The death of his father seemed to Kingdon the last 
 drop in his cup of misery. "Within three weeks he had 
 been left an orphan, married a woman whom he could 
 never learn to love, and discovered that the only girl 
 who had ever touched his heart was not only living, but 
 had been within a few miles of him when he gave her 
 up for lost. The financial crisis, precipitated by Mr. 
 Dale's death, did not add to the pleasure of the general 
 situation. It was plain that the home in which he was 
 born would soon belong to others, and that of his 
 father's estate but a very little, if anything, would re- 
 main from the creditors. 
 
 Mrs. Bruce was taken violently ill. When he went to 
 visit her she could only talk of her troubles and of ths 
 error she had committed in consigning her child to the 
 care of a penniless husband. He learned the condition 
 of her affairs, which were now little better than his own. 
 Somehow he was not moved by her recital. His wrongs, 
 as he viewed the matter, were too great to admit of much 
 sympathy for those who had caused them. 
 
 He attended strictly to the business of his firm, and 
 was gaining gradually a place in the world of trade that 
 would be recognized. The hope that he would be able, 
 with additional capital, to buy a larger share in the spice 
 concern died out. He had nothing but his hands and 
 brain. These he must use to the best of his ability. 
 
 The detective who had been engaged to search for
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 188 
 
 Kiss Elvers reported at the end of ten days that he could 
 not find the faintest trace of her. Not feeling justified 
 in spending money on what seemed a useless quest, 
 Kingdon paid the man and let him go. He could not 
 help, however, walking the street at all sorts of late 
 hours, watching in the crowds for the missing face. He 
 also inserted a notice in the Boston Herald, thinking 
 that it might possibly reach her eye. But the heavy 
 weeks passed, and nothing developed. 
 
 It was a dull life he lived as a married man. It was 
 necessary to go to certain places with Ida, to avoid talk, 
 and he performed such duties with the best grace possi- 
 ble. Most of the day was passed at business. He ate 
 dinner with her, and stayed perhaps an hour after it, be- 
 fore he went out for his stroll. She had developed ad- 
 mirable qualities of judgment. Not only was there no 
 collision between them, but there appeared no danger 
 of any. He grew to feel at his ease in his wife's pres- 
 ence. A third person could sit at their table and not 
 suspect that he saw the greatest endearments that ever 
 passed between them. 
 
 As the time approached when Mrs. Bruce's affairs 
 must be made public that lady made superhuman ef- 
 forts to save her home and name. She went from one 
 money lender to another, using her most persuasive ef- 
 forts to obtain help; but everywhere the smiles which 
 were evoked by her charming manner faded before the 
 cold, plain statement of the value of her property and 
 the amount of her indebtedness. At last, when all else 
 failed, she bethought herself of a wealthy friend of 
 whom it was strange she had not thought before Mr. 
 Gordon Hayne. 
 
 Gordon was not in the money-lending business, but he 
 had abundant means and was certainly able to assist the
 
 184 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 widow if he wished. She caught him at her own house 
 one day, when he had come for a call, and told him her 
 entire story. 
 
 " So you see both my estate and that of the Dales/' 
 she said, in conclusion, " are liable to go to the money 
 sharks for what is hardly half their value." (It will gen- 
 erally be noted that people refer to those who have 
 loaned them money as "sharks.") "Everybody con- 
 cedes that land hereabouts will be very valuable in a few 
 years. Look at the Back Bay district. Land sells there 
 for twelve dollars a square foot, that was worth but forty 
 cents a few years ago. There is talk of running a great 
 boulevard through Brookline and the entire length of 
 Newton. It will almost certainly pass through these 
 properties, and that means a fortune to the owners. 
 What a pity to sacrifice all that remains to this young 
 couple when if it could be kept for a short time it might 
 make them rich!" 
 
 Mr. Hayne admitted the correctness of the lady's di- 
 agnosis, and asked what assistance he could be in the 
 ease. 
 
 " Why, I thought when the investment is so safe/' 
 she replied, " that you might lend a sufficient sum on 
 the combined estates to free them, and perhaps allow a 
 little over for my own small wants. You would, of 
 course, have ample security, and there is no possibility 
 that you would lose anything." 
 
 All men with money have their favorite investments, 
 and real estate mortgages in the suburbs was not one 
 of Mr. Hayne's. 
 
 " I will think about this, Mrs. Bruce," he said, doubt- 
 fully. " But in the meantime make inquiries elsewhere. 
 Excuse me, but a proposition of this sort is a business 
 matter, and must be considered from that standpoint.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 185 
 
 There is some $35,000 on both properties, I think you 
 said." 
 
 " Yes," she nodded. 
 
 " Twenty thousand of it being on yours alone?" 
 
 She again assented. 
 
 " I shall have to talk with Kingdon, of course," he 
 said. 
 
 Instead of talking with Kingdon at once, however, he 
 went to call on his pretty wife during a part of the day 
 when he knew the husband would be absent. It was not 
 the first call that Gordon had made, and Ida thought 
 nothing strange about it. She always mentioned it to 
 Kingdon when he came home, and he only nodded, as if 
 it did not interest him much. 
 
 Gordon's evenings were naturally taken up a good 
 deal, while his mornings wore heavily. He called in 
 sometimes at the spice warehouse and took Kingdon out 
 to lunch with him. Gordon was a good fellow. He 
 had wanted to marry Ida, and had lost her. If it was 
 any pleasure to him to call and see her, Mr. Dale did not 
 know why any one should object. 
 
 Ida liked him; she always had liked him. It was a de- 
 light to hear his name mentioned by the one maid that 
 she kept and to see his face in her little flat. He still 
 wore the air of a man who has loved and lost, but he 
 bore his injuries with the grace of one who would die 
 sooner than utter a complaint. 
 
 He had no reason to suspect the extent of the 
 estrangement between his married friends. Presuming 
 that they were in the enjoyment of their natural felicity, 
 he would not have considered it the proper time, even 
 were his intentions of breaking into the fold ever so pro- 
 nounced, to commence the task. The practiced roue 
 knows enough to wait until the quarrels begin, till he
 
 186 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 finds the object of his hope with reddened eyes; till, to 
 his query about her husband's state of health, she an- 
 swers, "I don't know and 1 don't care!" 
 
 It was one of the great points of Gordon Hayne's suc- 
 cess with women that he could play a waiting game. 
 He was among men what Russia is among nations. 
 
 For at least three years he had made up his mind that 
 the day should come when he would possess Ida Bruce. 
 Being cautious, fearful of danger, he had decided early 
 that he would wait till after her marriage. He had 
 never felt such an attraction toward a human being. 
 The other amours that had occupied his time were only 
 flitting fancies. This was the one grande passion of his 
 entire life. 
 
 As has been said, he repented, when he saw her in 
 bridal garments, that he had not broken his resolution 
 to live and die unmarried. He ought to have taken this 
 lovely creature to his own arms, and treasured her safe 
 from all the world rather than give her for ever so short 
 a time to another. He had a twinge now, like the lover 
 Ovid writes of, to think he had permitted her to marry. 
 
 But so well did he carry himself, in the presence of 
 both of them, that neither dreamed of the project hid- 
 den in his breast. Mr. Dale knew that Gordon's repu- 
 tation in regard to women was somewhat shady, and yet 
 he was received in the best houses, while nobody seemed 
 able to swear to anything against him. Mrs. Dale knew 
 even less than this, for the seamy side of life was to her 
 little more than a vague mist. That there were men 
 whose chief aim in life is to ruin pure women she had 
 not even heard. 
 
 On the day after his talk with Mrs. Bruce, Mr. Hayne 
 called on Ida Dale. In the course of his conversation 
 he alluded to what Mrs. Bruce had told him.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 187 
 
 " I don't suppose your respected mother realizes how 
 much she asks me to do," he said, with a pretense of 
 candor. " Those properties may, as she says, grow val- 
 uable some time in the future, but unoccupied land eata 
 itself up with interest and taxes. It's all right for a 
 family that wants a country place to buy one and get 
 enough satisfaction out of residing there to pay for the 
 carrying charges; but as an investment, it's quite another 
 matter." 
 
 Ida nodded, as if she saw the point, but he read in 
 her face that she was thinking of her mother's sorrow. 
 
 " If it was still your home, that would be a different 
 thing," he mused. " I wouldn't let them take the roof 
 from over your head. But you are married" he 
 gulped down something in his throat " and will prob- 
 ably not live there again." 
 
 " As you are so kind," she interposed, quickly, " let 
 me say that it is my mother's home, and that it will 
 break her heart if she has to leave it. But I don't want 
 to influence you. I know nothing about money matters. 
 I supposed there would always be more than enough, 
 and I don't understand now what became of it all." 
 
 A torrent began to seethe within him. 
 
 " Ida," he said it was nothing unusual for him to 
 call her by her Christian name " do you ask me to save 
 that home for your mother?' 
 
 " I cannot ask you," she stammered, turning rosy. " I 
 have no right. If you can do it without loss " 
 
 He watched her narrowly. 
 
 " It makes little difference whether I lose or not," he 
 murmured, as if to himself. " I am responsible to no 
 one. I never shall marry now." 
 
 Poor fellow! How lie had loved her! And but for a
 
 188 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 cruel combination of circumstances she might at this 
 moment have been his proud wife, rich and happy. 
 
 "I am going to try to save that home for your 
 mother," he said, after a pause. " I won't undertake to 
 count Kingdon's in, too; but your mother's I will cer- 
 tainly look into." 
 
 She rose and came to his chair, putting both her 
 hands in his like a child. 
 
 "I shall owe you an eternity of gratitude!" she ex- 
 claimed, her eyes beaming. "How can I ever repay 
 you?" 
 
 "The time will come," he answered, eyeing the carpet, 
 as if he feared to meet her gaze. " I am sure the time 
 will come when I shall need all your kindness and con- 
 sideration." 
 
 She had not the least idea what he could mean, but 
 she answered that if that time ever came he would have 
 it fully. 
 
 " I don't say this merely because of your generous 
 conduct in this matter," she added, " but you seem to 
 me more than an ordinary friend, more like what I sup- 
 pose a brother would be, if I had had one." 
 
 It was difficult to conceal the exultation that filled his 
 heart. He would have loaned the value of a dozen es- 
 tates like her mother's just to hear those words. 
 
 Upon investigating the subject, through a broker in 
 whom he had implicit confidence, Gordon found, to his 
 delight, that the investment he had been asked to make 
 was not a bad one by any means. The security was well 
 nigh perfect, and the chance of appreciation in value 
 xvas considered more than an offset to any present risk. 
 The broker suggested of his own accord that a lien on 
 one of the adjoining estates would be a good thing to 
 secure, as, in the event of the building of the projected
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 189 
 
 boulevard, the larger the area covered the better. So 
 Mr. Hayne went to Mr. Dale with a proposition to carry 
 out the idea of his dead father, uniting the properties 
 and making him and his wife the joint owners. He was 
 willing to pay off all the indebtedness and give to Mrs. 
 Bruce $5,000 besides, taking a blanket mortgage from 
 the new owners. 
 
 Kingdon remarked, with a sigh, that perhaps if his 
 father had been able to accomplish this result he might 
 now be alive; and he then accepted the offer with thanks, 
 though it must be confessed without enthusiasm. He 
 did not care a great deal now about pecuniary gains. 
 
 The transfers were made and the mortgage executed, 
 and Mr. Hayne figured, with the aid of his broker, that 
 the interest would probably compel the proprietors to 
 surrender the whole area whenever it should be deemed 
 wise f 01 him to take it. 
 
 \VTiile he was ready at one moment to sacrifice every- 
 thing in pursuing his favorite game, he was never averse 
 to being recouped for his powder and shot. In his na- 
 ture, as in that of so many other men, lust and avarice 
 often went hand in hand. 
 
 Sidney Brooks was agreed upon by all the parties in 
 interest to attend to the legal matters. Mrs. Bruce 
 mentioned him, Mr. Hayne seconded the suggestion 
 warmly, and Mr. Dale saw no reason why he should ob- 
 ject. The sharp answer that Sidney had made to King- 
 don's letter was not forgotten, but it was only fair to 
 say that, not understanding the true situation, there 
 was some excuse for the tone he had used. The worst 
 of it was, there was no way of redeeming himself in the 
 eyes of the attorney, even in a small degree, but by tell- 
 ing the whole miserable story. 
 
 Brooks came to the flat occupied by Mr. and Mrs.
 
 190 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 Dale for his instructions. He was the same pale, tall, 
 slender fellow as of old, and he seemed momentarily 
 confused as he glanced from one to the other. Kingdon, 
 who kept hk eyes on him as he wrote, imagined he could 
 see in his very attitude an objection to the scheme he 
 was engaged to forward. It was an odd conception, for 
 how was there any way in which the details could inter- 
 est the man of law except in their legal aspect? 
 
 " Mr. Dale deeds his property to me," said Mr. Brooks, 
 "and Mrs. Bruce makes the same disposition of hers. The 
 indebtedness on both is to be cleared off at the time. 
 Then I encumber the combined estate with a mortgage 
 of $40,000 to Mr. Hayne, after which it is conveyed to 
 Mr. and Mrs. Dale, jointly, as sole owners/' 
 
 Mr. Brocks devoted himself to his work and presently 
 \vithdrew, bowing and bidding good-bye to all present. 
 
 On the day the transaction was- completed, Mr. Hayne 
 returned from the registry of deeds with Mr. Brooks in a 
 carriage. 
 
 " Well, it's done," he remarked, as if relieved. " I've 
 had the satisfaction of doing a favor to friends, and at 
 the same time I don't know as I've run much risk, 
 cither. Forty thousand ought to be safe on eighty acres 
 of land within seven miles of the State House." 
 
 " The security is all right," responded Brooks, in a 
 deep voice. " And your claim is on the land. So far 
 I've been your friend and attorney. But," and he raised 
 his voice, " if you ever try to put your claim elsewhere 
 than on the land, I'm your enemy." 
 
 "Why, Sidney, are j'ou insane?" was the startled in- 
 quiry of his companion. 
 
 " Perhaps," said the lawyer. " If you do anything 
 underhanded in this matter you'll find an extraordinary 
 method in my madness!"
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BONEl 191 
 
 CHAPTEE XX. 
 
 " A FEW LITTLE LIES." 
 
 It is not difficult to account for the fact that neither 
 Kingdon Dale nor the detectives he hired found any 
 trace of Margaret Kivers, or Margaret Taylor, as she now 
 called herself. Owing to the financial assistance which 
 Gordon Hayne gave her she was ahle to take rooms in 
 the suburb of Dorchester, where she remained most of 
 the time, venturing very seldom into the city. The in- 
 telligence offices did not know her. The shops where 
 hundreds of women are employed had never seen her 
 face. The agencies for teachers and governesses had no 
 such person on their books. The dens of infamy, which 
 were explored thoroughly, could not count her among 
 their unfortunate inmates. The procession of lewd wo- 
 men who march eternally up and down the avenues had 
 not been augmented by the English girl. 
 
 The condition approaching motherhood in which she 
 had found herself soon after escaping from Mr. Dale al- 
 tered the entire course of the life she had to lead. It 
 was idle to expect a position in a family, where there 
 were children to educate, with this fact always ready to 
 bar her progress. Although she might have convinced 
 a would-be employer that she was an honest, married 
 woman, he would not have cared to engage a governess 
 whose physical situation rendered her liable to prostra- 
 tion at any time. 
 
 There remained nothing but sewing sewing done at 
 her home and, as she told Mr. Hayne, the remunera- 
 tion for this was very slight, indeed. The ladies who
 
 192 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 rejoice over the "bargains" to be found in our big 
 stores think seldom, it is probable, of the meagre wages 
 that must have been paid to the miserable fingers that 
 wrought the articles they buy. There is a tragedy in 
 many a bit of lace, in hundreds of delicate adornments 
 that are praised as being " so wonderfully cheap." 
 
 To pay for the poor room she occupied and obtain 
 even bread to eat was more than Miss Eivers had been 
 able to do up to the time Mr. Hayne met her, without 
 spending the remnants of the little sum that remained in 
 her purse when she left New York. 
 
 She came to Boston quite by accident, if anything 
 may fairly be called an accident in this strange world. 
 Her fear of encountering Mr. Dale drove her to leave 
 New York on the second day after her arrival there. 
 She knew almost nothing about the United States, and 
 in his conversation with her, Kingdon had never hap- 
 pened to mention the name of the city where his office 
 was located. She scanned the newspapers and hit upon 
 the advertisement of the line of steamers that connects 
 the New England capital with the metropolis. 
 
 The words, "to Boston and all other New England 
 points " caught her eye and struck her fancy. " New 
 England." It was something to think of a section bear- 
 ing the name of her native country, and the fare was 
 very low. That is how she came to locate in the city of 
 her late lover in her search for a place where he would 
 be the least likely to find her. 
 
 Before she left New York Margaret took a precaution 
 which instinct taught her might be essential. She pur- 
 chased a wedding ring and wore it as a sign that she 
 had a right to the name of " Mrs. Taylor," which she 
 felt impelled to retain. To be in the situation of a com- 
 inc mother, without the insicmia which excuses that con-
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 193 
 
 dition, was more than she could bear. To face poverty, 
 hardship, want, that was something for which she could 
 prepare; to meet the sneering lip, the scornful eye or the 
 ribald laugh, was more than she deemed herself able to 
 endure. 
 
 It may be wondered at by some that Margaret con- 
 sented to accept the assistance offered by a perfect 
 stranger, but if the reader will try for one moment to 
 put himself in her place, he may be better able to under- 
 stand. When Gordon Hayne entered her poor room she 
 had not enough money to pay her landlord the paltry 
 dollar and a half which he exacted as her weekly rent. 
 She had proved that her ability at sewing was not suffi- 
 cient to fight much longer against the tide. The ever- 
 present dread of either shame or death paralyzed her en- 
 ergies and benumbed her brain. 
 
 Hunger drives a human being to queer devices. The 
 lack of a shelter leads a girl to think of warmth and 
 comfort, even in the company of a man whose atten- 
 tions disgust and whose presence she loathes. But to 
 Margaret the knowledge of her condition made this pros- 
 pect doubly horrible. She firmly resolved that a plunge 
 in the waters of the Charles must follow the failure of 
 her attempts to live without disgracing her unborn off- 
 spring. 
 
 Opposed to such a prospect as this the offer of Mr. 
 Hayne can be viewed in a different light. There was no 
 choice between death and the acceptance of a little 
 money, proffered in what seemed a good spirit, by a man 
 who said that the sum was nothing to him. Those who 
 cavil at Margaret's decision ought to be placed in the 
 game dilemma for a few hours. 
 
 On Gordon's second visit to the room where he had 
 kft her, he stayed a long time. He drew from the girl
 
 194: THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 a statement of her life, altered only at the point where 
 the necessity of deception forced itself upon her. She 
 told him of her English birth, her Eastern youth with 
 her father, of Captain Bivers' death, and then of meet- 
 ing "Mr. Taylor," an American gentleman who had 
 sympathized with her loss so strongly as to offer her his 
 aid and at last his hand in marriage. It was on the way 
 to America, she said, after only a few weeks of wedded 
 life, that he died on the passage, and left her to land in 
 a strange country nearly penniless. 
 
 "Have you hunted up his relations?" asked Mr. 
 Hayne. " Perhaps he has some property that belongs to 
 
 No. she replied. She did not even know in what State 
 he resided, being entirely ignorant of this part of the 
 world, and trusting implicitly to him. But she was sure 
 he was not a man of fortune. He was a clerk in some 
 large establishment, she had gathered from his con- 
 versation. 
 
 She had given some time to the preparation of this 
 story, and the listener had no suspicion that it was in 
 any degree false. She looked like the innocent girl she 
 was represented. 
 
 "You married Mr. Taylor without knowing very 
 much about him?" he hazarded. 
 
 " I knew that I loved him! And I would have trusted 
 him to the world's end." 
 
 The amount that it would cost to succor this creature 
 was nothing to be counted. She was interesting, at 
 least. She would fill in a vacant hour, and there was a 
 nharm in the novelty that went with her. 
 
 " So you have grown wiser since I was here," he said, 
 with his winning smile. " You have decided to call me 
 jour benefactor, banker or what you please to term it?"
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 195 
 
 She stole a glance at his face, which did not escape 
 him. In it he read the only doubt that troubled hep 
 mind. 
 
 " I shall not want much," she replied. " I prefer to 
 do all the sewing I can get. If you will help me over the 
 rough places will take the worry off my mind till till 
 it is over I shall be grateful. And, perhaps I will 
 keep account of every cent some day I may be able to 
 repay it." 
 
 He laughed. She was so innocent, so droll, so in- 
 genue. 
 
 "You will have other sewing to do/' he suggested. 
 "Little garments." 
 
 " Yes." She flushed with every sentence. " There 
 will be some things, of course. Still, I don't want to 
 stop the work I have been doing. I shall feel better if I 
 am helping myself." 
 
 "The first thing you will do, if you wish to please 
 me," said he, " is to get a more respectable place to live. 
 This is simply dreadful, begging your pardon. I will at- 
 tend to the matter if you wish. Somewhere a little out 
 of town would be better, in a house with a private 
 family." 
 
 She moved uneasily in her chair. 
 
 " Oh, it will be all right," he said. " I can afford to 
 tell a few little lies to say that your late husband was 
 my friend, and that I have taken charge of your small 
 fortune. Peopk are not so suspicious as you seem to 
 think. And if they were, the perfectly honorable re- 
 lations between us will allay all doubts." 
 
 He convinced her by his straightforward manner, and 
 she said he might look for a room, only he must bear the 
 question of economy in mind. This he promised to do, 
 and the next day presented himself with the address of
 
 196 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 a house in Dorchester, where he had secured the refusal 
 of a little suite of three furnished rooms, which could be 
 had, he assured her, at a merely nominal figure. 
 
 " You had best go there alone," he said, " and ex- 
 amine the place. Make up your mind in advance that 
 it will suit you, for you can't possibly do better. There 
 is a sweet little married lady in the house, who will fill 
 you full of information about your motherly duties. I 
 will call here again to-morrow and see that you are all 
 right to start, and as soon as you are settled I will come 
 out and call on you." 
 
 Margaret found the rooms selected most delightful 
 ones, and could hardly believe it possible when the lady 
 of the house told her she should only charge two dollars 
 a week, including heat and gas. If she had known that 
 five times this amount was to be paid by Mr. Hayne she 
 would have understood it better. With only slight mis- 
 givings she removed her few belongings to the new quar- 
 ters, thankful that the disagreeable landlord of the for- 
 mer place could not frighten her any more with her in- 
 sinuations and threats. 
 
 When one is cast into a measureless sea, and finds that 
 a plank has floated near, he cannot be too particular 
 about the quality of the wood of which it is composed. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Witham, who appeared to own the resi- 
 dence in Dorchester, seemed to be very pleasant people. 
 There was a marked difference in their ages, he being at 
 least fifty, while his wife was hardly more than twenty- 
 five, and his business took him a great deal from home, 
 "but the attachment of the couple to each other was evi- 
 dent. Indeed, when the head of the house was there, 
 they acted more like eighteen and twenty than the ages 
 they were. 
 
 Mrs. Witham was very kind to Margaret, from the
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BON1X 197 
 
 first. The English girl intended to get her own simple 
 meals in her apartment, but after a few days she yield- 
 ed to entreaties to join her new friend at lunch, Mrs. 
 iWitham declaring that she was always alone at that meal 
 and would consider her company a real favor. Then, 
 whenever Mr. Hayne stayed to dinner, which he soon 
 got quite in the habit of doing, Margaret yielded to the 
 pressure brought to bear upon her, and made the fourth 
 one of the party. Her coffee was finally the only thing 
 ehe was sure to get in her rooms, and she found the new 
 home much pleasanter than she had ever dared to hope. 
 
 Mr. Hayne humored Margaret in her fancy for sew- 
 ing for wages, but through Mrs. Witham she secured 
 work from ladies of her acquaintance, which paid much 
 better and was more agreeable in every way. But what 
 Margaret liked best was the sewing she soon began to do 
 on the baby clothes which she expected to need, and 
 which took the hours after sunset when she felt that the 
 day had been honestly spent in labor for others. 
 
 Mrs. Witham accompanied her to one of the big shops 
 in the city, and she made some modest purchases as a 
 beginning. The delight of fashioning the things into 
 form for use was as genuine as if the coming event had 
 not been shadowed by the darkest clouds. God gives 
 great compensation to women in exchange for the pain 
 they endure. 
 
 It was in October that " Mrs. Taylor n went to live in 
 Dorchester. She passed the winter there, finding the as- 
 sociations growing pleasanter each day. Mr. Hayne 
 gave her no cause to distrust him. He came several 
 times a week and showed a solicitude for her welfare that 
 touched her deeply. She grew to have perfect confi- 
 dence in him. He was so easy in his manners, he seemed
 
 198 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 EO gentle, so thoughtful, that Margaret learned to rely 
 upon him wholly. 
 
 Gordon still paid frequent visits to the Dale house- 
 hold. He went there often when Kingdon was out and 
 not infrequently when he was in. The slight mystery 
 that he discovered in the relations of the young couple 
 interested him. There was something strange in their 
 attitude toward each other that he could not yet fathom. 
 Until he understood this better he felt that it was no 
 time for him to advance his lines. 
 
 Whenever Ida was spoken of in his presence, Kingdon 
 relapsed into a set expression of countenance that was 
 absolutely unreadable. The wife did a little better, 
 having to some extent acquired the art of dissimulation, 
 but there was a trifle of constraint for which the searcher 
 could not account. 
 
 One day, when he was alone with Mrs. Dale, he found 
 her in such a state of repression that he determined to 
 risk a question. 
 
 " You'll pardon an inquiry from such an old friend as 
 I am, won't you?" he said. 
 
 " Certainly/' she answered, looking up surprised. 
 
 "Are you perfectly happy with Kingdon?" 
 
 The directness of the question was his salvation. It 
 did not look like a sneaking attempt to pry into affairs 
 that were not his own. 
 
 " I do not suppose," she replied, evasively, " that any- 
 body has perfect happiness in this world." 
 
 "They should," he responded, decisively, "during 
 their honeymoon. And with the right kind of woman a 
 honeymoon ought to last a lifetime." 
 
 It was a very pretty sentiment, and she thought it did 
 him credit. 
 
 " Mr. Dale is very kind," she remarked.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. *99 
 
 "But he seems to have something weighing on his 
 mind." 
 
 " His father's death distressed him very much. His 
 business at the office is very exhausting, too. He returns 
 tired and not inclined to gayety." 
 
 She was ready to meet him at every point, and he 
 changed his tactics a little. 
 
 " I am going to talk with him. If he has anything in 
 the way of trouble I shall find out what it is. Why, it 
 is perfectly dreadful for a man to be in his mood when 
 he ought to be in the seventh heaven of contentment." 
 
 What would Mr. Hayne say, she wondered, if he knew 
 the truth! 
 
 " Gordon/' she said, in an outburst of emotion, " you 
 ought to have a good, pure, sweet wife of your own. 
 Yes, I am sure you would appreciate such a woman at 
 her full value." 
 
 He shook his head despondently. 
 
 " It will never be," he said. " There are reasons 
 which I cannot tell you." 
 
 He flitted between the house in town and the house in 
 Dorchester, never dreaming how closely they were re- 
 lated to each other. 
 
 And he was present in the parlor of the Withams 
 when the physician came down to tell them that Mrs. 
 Taylor was the mother of a fine, healthy boy, and was 
 doing very well, indeed.
 
 200 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND, 
 
 CHAPTEE XXI. 
 
 SIDNEY BROOKS TAKES A HAND. 
 
 Never for a moment had Kingdon Dale ceased to 
 think of his lost Margaret. Although every effort failed, 
 although he sank into a deep despondency over his un- 
 happy situation, and indulged in painful dreams as to 
 what life she might now be leading, he resolved in his 
 inmost heart to be true to her memory. She was the 
 nly woman he ever had, ever could love. 
 
 He thought often of the curt letter that Sidney 
 Brooks had sent him, and determined that he would, 
 some day, confide his story to the young lawyer, for the 
 double purpose of setting him right on the request so 
 disdainfully treated, and also for the bare relief of di- 
 viding with some confidential person the secret that 
 galled him. Mr. Brooks had never met him alone since 
 that occurrence. When they encountered each other in 
 public places the curtness of the lawyer's nod showed 
 that he still held his former opinion of a man who would 
 cross the ocean with a mistress just before his arranged 
 marriage to a beautiful girl, and while on his wedding 
 tour write to a friend to ascertain the address of the 
 paramour he had either lost or deserted. 
 
 The early spring arrived before Dale put his intention 
 into practice. One day he went directly to Mr. Brooks' 
 office and asked a private interview. 
 
 " I want to tell you a story of a personal nature, and to 
 get your advice and assistance," he said, as the cold, blue 
 eyes of his companion were raised to his.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 201 
 
 " Is it a legal matter?" asked Brooks, shortly. 
 
 " I don't know how much it may prove so," responded 
 Kingdon. "But at least there is no reason why you 
 should treat me like a stranger, when we had learned, I 
 am sure, to regard each other as friends." 
 
 The stern expression on the lawyer's face did not 
 relax. 
 
 " I considered the letter you sent me an insulting 
 one," said he. 
 
 " So I supposed from your answer. What I wish to 
 show you is that it was not so intended. To do that I 
 shall have to refer to events occurring some time pre- 
 vious. Come, Sidney, don't be too severe until you have 
 heard all." 
 
 " I don't know why I should hear all, or anything," 
 was the reply. " You have your own attorney. Why do 
 you not tell these things to him?" 
 
 " That would not do," said Mr. Dale. " I want you 
 to see that I have a right to be still your friend; and, 
 having established that point, I want to talk to you as 
 one friend talks to another." 
 
 Mr. Brooks seemed to waver.. 
 
 '' What you say is to be under the seal of confidence 
 between a man and his solicitor, I presume," said he, in- 
 terrogatively. 
 
 " I will leave that to you. But I should rather call it 
 between one gentleman and another." 
 
 Mr. Brooks' lip curled slightly. 
 
 " Go on," he said. " But say nothing that you are 
 likely to repent." 
 
 " Thank you," said Kingdon. " Let me begin, then, 
 by referring to our meeting on the steamer at Gibraltar. 
 I had at that time, as you observed, a young lady under 
 my protection "
 
 202 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 " Who was registered as your wife, or that of the alias 
 which you assumed/' broke in Brooks. 
 
 " 1 will not dispute you/' said Dale, choking. " When 
 I first saw you on the deck I pretended that you mistook 
 my identity. You may guess I was not anxious to meet 
 any person who knew me. A moment's reflection taught 
 me that it was foolish to carry out the pretense, and I 
 went to you frankly and admitted the deception. You 
 know very well that I continued to pose as the husband 
 of that lady during the voyage, and that we went ashore 
 together. Now I want to ask this question: Would 
 that fact in itself make my friendship a thing you would 
 desire to end?" 
 
 The clock in the office ticked loudly while Mr. Brooks 
 was forming his reply. 
 
 " In itself, no," he said, at last. " I do not pretend to 
 Bupervise the morals of my acquaintances as regards a 
 certain class of women." 
 
 Dale winced at the expression. 
 
 "But this lady with me was not a member of the 
 class to which you refer," said he, quickly, annoyed that 
 Margaret should rest even for a second under such an 
 imputation. 
 
 " That makes me a little more doubtful as to what I 
 should say to your first question," said the lawyer. " I 
 should have to knew the whole history of your acquaint- 
 ance with her, and that, of course, I neither expect nor 
 desire." 
 
 " You must understand this matter, as far as you hear 
 it at all, exactly as it is," said Kingdon. " The lady to 
 whom you were introduced as ' Mrs. Taylor ' was as pure 
 as an angel up to the day she and I landed at Gibraltar." 
 
 " I think you had best tell me no more it can do no
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND- 203 
 
 good," interrupted the attorney, with great uneasiness 
 of manner. 
 
 " It certainly will do much harm to leave my story at 
 this point," was the reply. " At the risk of your final 
 condemnation, I entreat you to hear me through." 
 
 Mr. Brooks, who had risen from his chair, resumed his 
 seat, and put himself in the position of a listener, though 
 without speaking. 
 
 ft We were both violently in love," pursued Mr. Dale. 
 ""There was no deceit, no promises, no entreaties. I 
 had told her that I was engaged to he married to a girl 
 for whom I had not the least affection " 
 
 " Good God!" cried Mr. Brooks, sharply. 
 
 " Which was true. To prolong the life of my dearly 
 loved father, threatened hy any resistance to his will, I 
 had consented to have the ceremony performed, after 
 telling both Mrs. Bruce and Ida that I should never let 
 it be anything more than a meaningless string of words. 
 But when I met the lady whom you saw, the 
 first real passion of my heart sprang up and over- 
 whelmed me. I saw that to carry out my promise in 
 America was to condemn myself to a lifetime of misery, 
 and I resolved at whatever cost to refuse. 
 
 " But when I related the circumstance to Margaret 
 to ' Mrs. Taylor,' I mean she saw the matter in a light 
 that I could not have expected. Admitting that she 
 loved me, that I was dearer to her than all else, she de- 
 clared that she would not step between me and the wo- 
 man to whom I was engaged. She was an orphan, re- 
 cently become so, and nearly penniless. She had no re- 
 lations to whom she could go, and her future had not a 
 single ray of sunlight in it, unless she became my wife. 
 Still, no argument that I could make had any effect upon 
 her. She might die, starve, find bread in somebody's
 
 204 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 kitchen but she would not take a sweetheart from an- 
 other, even though the man swore that he would never 
 have the marriage with that other woman performed." 
 
 Mr. Brooks had become interested at last. 
 
 "A noble girl! A magnificent girl!" he cried, with 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 " You are right, from a certain standpoint," admitted 
 Mr. Dale, sadly, "but the effect was as disastrous as 
 could be conceived. Having determined that she could 
 not, would not marry me and that she never would 
 love another this strange girl lived as my wife for the 
 next fortnight, under the specious reasoning that it 
 would resign me, when I came to reflect, to parting with 
 one who had violated the moral law and conventional 
 usage of the world." 
 
 "And you, ten times wiser than she, accepted this 
 sacrifice!" said Brooks, with a frown. 
 
 "Accepted it? I loved that girl with all my soul. I 
 could not bear the thought of losing her. I wanted to 
 take her to America with me. I succeeded in getting 
 her to make the voyage which she had sworn she would 
 not take. She drew out of me a promise that when we 
 reached New York I would find her a situation and 
 leave her. This I intended to do; I meant to help her 
 to earn an honest livelihood and then to leave the rest 
 to fate. But before we had been on shore an hour she 
 eluded and escaped me. I have seen her since but once, 
 and then only for an instant, from the window of a car- 
 riage." 
 
 The trembling voice and dejected manner of Mr. Dale 
 told but too plainly the sincerity of his statement. 
 
 " She deserted you without the least quarrel?" asked 
 Mr. Brooks. * 
 
 ".When our relations were the happiest. I suppos*
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 205 
 
 she was afraid that if she remained where I could see her 
 I would not return to what she considered my e duty/ 
 and marry Miss Bruce. She preferred all the risks of 
 life in a strange city, with a nearly empty purse, to lead- 
 ing me out of what seemed to her the ( right ' path." 
 
 " Have you tried, seriously, to find her?" 
 
 Then Kingdon related the various means he had taken 
 to gain information about Margaret, and told of seeing 
 her face in the crowd as he went to the station with his 
 bride, after he had come to believe her dead. 
 
 " You see now/' he added, " why I wrote you from 
 the Crawford House. And I think you are at least re- 
 lieved from the impression that I wanted anything of 
 you hut what was decent and honorable." 
 
 Mr. Brooks bowed constrainedly. 
 
 " If you only wanted to see to her material needs," he 
 said; "if there was no design on your part to resume 
 your illicit relations, when you were married to an- 
 other." 
 
 "That was all," replied Kingdon, in a depressed tone. 
 " I do not know to-day but she is starving or suffering 
 the cold of winter. I think sometimes that she has 
 buried her sorrows beneath the waters of the Harbor. I 
 awake at night with fearful dreams of her in deadly 
 peril. All day she comes between me and my work at 
 the office. The father for whom I married a woman 
 whom I could not love only survived my wedding a few 
 weeks. Can there be an unhappier human being in ex- 
 istence?" 
 
 The pale countenance of Sidney Brooks, that had been 
 full of sympathy a moment before, clouded again at the 
 question. 
 
 " Yes, there are at least two," he said, " quite as un- 
 happy as you. One of them is the English girl you be-
 
 206 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 trayed. The other," he hesitated a moment and then 
 spoke clearer and louder, " is the wife you have taken 
 to your empty heart/' 
 
 A judge on the bench might have spoken in the same 
 tone to a hardened criminal he was about to sentence. 
 
 " But," said Kingdon, overwhelmed, " I was hedged 
 in. I planned nothing wrong. I had many an inter- 
 view with my father in reference to his project for mar- 
 rying me to the daughter of his neighbor, in each of 
 which I showed my disinclination for the plan. To ir- 
 ritate him too far was, the doctors told me, to kill him. 
 What you allude to as the ' betrayal ' of the lady you 
 saw on the steamer does not deserve that epithet. We 
 drifted together like the streams of two rivulets which 
 nature has intended to make into one river. All my 
 sentiments toward her were of unutterable affection. I 
 could not foresee that she would tear herself away, when 
 she loved me so dearly. And when she was lost, and 
 months of searching failed to find her, what could I do 
 but carry out my father's wish, after I had told Ida and 
 her mother the hollowness my professions would have 
 at the altar, and they had positively refused to release 
 me?" 
 
 The lawyer looked up quickly. 
 
 " You told them ?" he said, interrogatively. 
 
 "Certainly. I said I had no heart to give." 
 
 Mr Dale reverted to the original theme, and asked 
 the lawyer's advice as to what he should do now, under 
 the circumstances. 
 
 " There's nothing you can do," said Brooks. " You 
 have cat yourself off from the power to do anything." 
 
 "Well, after hearing my story, have you the same 
 harsh feeling toward me that you had when you sent 
 that letter to ?Te~ Hampshire?"
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 307 
 
 "No; I have a different feeling, in which a certain 
 amount of pity is mingled with regret at the general 
 course you have adopted. But I am not your censor." 
 
 Mr. Dale looked distinctly relieved. 
 
 " I wish you would come and see us sometimes/' he 
 said. " It is pretty dull, naturally, when Ida and I are 
 alone. Gordon Hayne calls regularly, and, of course, 
 there are half a hundred other friends who come and 
 go; hut I'd like you to run around in an informal way. 
 Confound it! I'd got to liking you immensely well, 
 when that unlucky letter pushed us apart." 
 
 The lawyer mused for some seconds, and then said 
 that he would come. 
 
 " And if I run across the English girl what was it 
 you called her, 'Mrs. Taylor' I'll try to learn her 
 whereabouts. I rely on your statement that you only 
 want to see that she is provided for. Poor creature! I 
 am sorry I did not understand the matter at first." 
 
 " It isn't likely that she bears that name now," said 
 Kingdon, with a shiver. " Her real name this is be- 
 tween a solicitor and his client, of course is Margaret 
 Rivers. But very probably, in her mad desire to escape 
 me, she has adopted one different from either." 
 
 Mr. Dale rose. Then, as the lawyer touched his out- 
 stretched hand, he added, " I want to be your friend, 
 Sidney. I want it very much. There's not another man 
 living that I would have trusted with my story, and it's 
 done me a world of good to relieve the terrible strain of 
 carrying my secret."
 
 208 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXII. 
 
 "WHOM DOES HE RESEMBLE?" 
 
 It was certainly quite an experience for Gordon Hayne 
 to watch the course of Margaret Rivers' life during that 
 winter. He was her only friend, for the people of the 
 house to which he recommended her were paid liberally 
 for all their attentions. " Mrs. Witham " had never been 
 united in the bonds of matrimony to the individual who 
 passed as her husband, but for all that she had many 
 virtues, among which was a kindly heart, and she did 
 everything she could for the unfortunate girl who had 
 become her lodger. It was Hayne, however, who paid 
 the bills, and this is, after all, the surest test of friend- 
 ship. 
 
 He said to himself that he must be entertained, and 
 that he could not have found so much for so little 
 money anywhere else. But his intercourse with Miss 
 Rivers could not help developing the softest parts of his 
 nature, and an acquaintance which he had entered upon 
 from the most questionable motives developed into a 
 school for generous impulses. 
 
 When the baby was born he had a half-feeling of pro- 
 prietorship in its tiny frame. He took it in his arms and 
 rocked it in a chair, sometimes for five whole minutes. 
 He had never paid attention to such mites before, and 
 was interested in every detail of its development. He 
 wondered if he could ever have been such a helpless, 
 squirming bundle of cartilage. When it was ill with any 
 of the slight complaints incidental to infancy, he walked
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 209 
 
 the floor uneasily, pierced by the least of its cries. There 
 was in this young reprobate the making of a decent hus- 
 band if he had only been taken in hand in time. 
 
 Margaret recovered rapidly. She had a good constitu- 
 tion, and the care which was given her prevented any 
 backward step. Her mind was immensely relieved by 
 the change in her surroundings, and, though the 
 thought of Kingdon never left her, she was reconciled, 
 in a dumb sort of way, to what she regarded as the in- 
 evitable. Never having heard anything about him, not 
 supposing that he was within a hundred miles of her, 
 she always pictured him as a benedict, reconciled to his 
 wife and probably glad that his wild notion of marrying 
 a friendless stranger had been frustrated. As to Mr. 
 Hayne who had after a while confided to her his real 
 name she could not understand his kindness, but she 
 accepted it for what it appeared, thinking that " suffi- 
 cient unto the day is the evil/' 
 
 A waif thrown to the waves cannot be too particular 
 upon which shore she is cast. 
 
 The good feeling between Mr. Hayne and Sidney 
 Brooks had never been broken, in spite of the veiled 
 threats of the latter over the name of Mrs. Dale. Gordon 
 bethought himself one day that it would be a jolly idea 
 to take Sidney out to Dorchester and show him the 
 mother and child there. Without saying in so many 
 words that the baby was his own he could convey that 
 impression, and divert the lawyer's mind from Ida, who 
 was still the direct object in all Gordon's plans. 
 
 Margaret was an amusement of the hour; Ida was the 
 passion of a lifetime. At least this is what Mr. Hayne 
 believed in regard to his sentiments, and, as far as they 
 influenced his conduct, it had the same effect as if it 
 were true.
 
 210 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 " I want you to come out in the suburbs with me and 
 dine with some friends/' he said to Brooks. " You are 
 so absorbed in business that you are getting to be a 
 regular old fogy. You don't go anywhere except to dry 
 receptions, where nobody says anything they mean. 
 Come with me to-morrow evening, and I will show you 
 a novelty." 
 
 Mr. Brooks answered that he did not shine in private 
 houses, and he knew it. Who were these people whom 
 he was asked to visit? 
 
 " Why, they're only just plain, ordinary folks,''* smiled 
 Gordon. " There is a Mrs. Witham who runs the house, 
 end sometimes a Mr. Witham, though he is not essential, 
 and boarding with them is a Mrs. Taylor and her ex- 
 cessively new infant boy. You'll get a simple table, a 
 little conversation of a depth that needn't frighten you 
 and a view of a somewhat remarkable baby. It'll be a 
 change, and I shall consider it a favor. Come, don't 
 make it a matter for serious thinking. Just say you'll 
 go, and Fll send word we're coming." 
 
 " But I've never met any of them " 
 
 " That's just the reason you are to go so that you 
 will meet them. I've talked about you times enough, 
 and they've sent the warmest invitation to have you 
 come. To-morrow evening, then, I will be at your office 
 at live.'" 
 
 This world is very, very small. I could tell a dozen 
 stories in my own experience to prove that. A courier 
 whom I cnce had in Algiers told me he had served an 
 American family the previous year in that capacity, and 
 had no doubt I would know them. Of course, I smiled 
 at the idea, till he mentioned their name, when I found 
 I knew them very well. At Grindelwald, a year ago, I 
 heard a gentleman remark that he would give anything
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 for a recent Boston paper; and when I offered him a bun- 
 dle I had just received, I discovered that he lived on the 
 same street at home that I did. An Austrian who occupied 
 a compartment with us in Germany, and who spoke per- 
 fect English., remarked that he had an American friend 
 in London, a newspaper representative located there, 
 and on the name being mentioned it was that of a par- 
 ticular friend of mine. The world is really very small. 
 
 When Mr. Brooks promised Kingdon Dale that he 
 would speak to " Mrs. Taylor " if he ever encountered 
 her, and ascertain if she was in need, he little thought 
 that he would be asked by their mutual friend to go and 
 dine with that person so soon. The name awakened no 
 memories in his mind, the Taylor family being repre- 
 sented by so many thousands of people in all parts of the 
 country. 
 
 All that Margaret knew in relation to his coming was 
 that Mr. Hayne had promised to bring a gentleman 
 friend to dinner, and had asked her to prepare her baby 
 for exhibition to a bachelor, whom he wished to dazzle 
 with its magnificence. 
 
 The young mother had been about the house for sev- 
 eral weeks, and regained much of her natural and 
 healthful appearance. To her comely face there was 
 added the ineffable charm that motherhood brings even 
 to the plainest of women, that sign of having partaken of 
 the functions of deity in the all-glorious creation of a 
 human soul. Mr. Hayne thought with elation of the 
 impression she ought to make on his ascetic friend, and 
 planned a most enjoyable evening. 
 
 Brooks paid but slight attention to Mrs. Witham, be- 
 yond the conventionalities, but when " Mrs. Taylor " 
 came down he evinced the most remarkable emotion. 
 
 Margaret also showed plainly to the observant eyes of
 
 212 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 Mr. Hayne that something unsusual was the matter. It 
 was evident to the most casual observer that it was not 
 the first time these two had met. Neither of them was 
 skilled in concealing their thoughts, and both were 
 equally surprised at this meeting. 
 
 "Ah! You are old acquaintances!" exclaimed Gor- 
 don. 
 
 "We happened to cross the ocean on the same 
 steamer," stammered Brooks, not at all sure that it was 
 the best thing to say, but fearful that if she spoke first 
 something even more embarrassing might develop. 
 
 "What!" cried Gordon. "The boat that Kingdon 
 Dale came on! Well, that is a coincidence!" He re- 
 flected an instant on this theme, and then said, " You 
 were aware, then, of poor Mr. Taylor's death during the 
 voyage and of his burial at sea." 
 
 Through the somewhat slow mind of the lawyer there 
 dawned the knowledge that the story which Mrs. Tay- 
 lor had told to Hayne was not entirely a correct one. 
 He would do well if he escaped getting mixed in her 
 aft'airs, which, above all things, he desired to avoid. 
 
 " I am afraid we are entering on a painful subject," 
 he said, constrainedly. 
 
 " Very painful," said Margaret, wiping away the tears 
 that had sprung to her eyes. She was trembling, for she 
 had learned that Mr. Hayne knew Kingdon. 
 
 Mr. Hayne wondered that he had not had more tact. 
 Of course, the recollection of a husband's death and 
 burial was the worst possible thing with which to begin 
 an evening he had intended to be a pleasant one. The 
 drops in Mrs. Taylor's eyes smote him with deep re- 
 gret. He could have cursed himself for his lack of com- 
 mon sense. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," he said, with feeling. " It waa
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 213 
 
 thoughtless of me. Ah, good-evening, Mr. Witham," 
 he added, as that gentleman joined the party, much to 
 his relief. " My friend, Mr. Brooks Mr. Witham." 
 
 The lady of the house helped out the situation by as- 
 signing the seats. Margaret found herself next to Mr. 
 Brooks, with Mr. Hayne exactly opposite. The din- 
 ner was served, and the conversation turned into 
 more agreeable channels, Mr. Witham proving to be an 
 interesting talker, and Mrs. Witham possessing the 
 charm of a true hostess. 
 
 Of course, the strangeness of meeting the sweetheart 
 of Mr. Dale in a house where she was known to his 
 friend Hayne was too great to allow the matter to drop, 
 even for a second, from the lawyer's mind. Had it not 
 been for Kingdon's confession of a few days before, a 
 confession made with all the marks of truth and in a 
 manner that proved its sincerity, Brooks would have 
 suspected that the husband of Ida Bruce was maintain- 
 ing his mistress in this place, with Gordon's knowledge 
 and connivance. If there was any reliance to be placed 
 on testimony this suspicion must be dismissed at once. 
 
 But how had Hayne come to know her? Mr. Brooks 
 knew the tatter's reputation among women, and was 
 ready to believe anything to his discredit in that line. 
 It was clear that Margaret had told a story of the death 
 of her "husband" at sea, which had no foundation. 
 Brooks had been on the steamer and known that the 
 only " Mr. Taylor " aboard was Dale. In fact, no per- 
 son had died on the voyage. 
 
 And this young woman now had a child, a very young 
 child, too. Whose child was it? Was its father some 
 genuine Mr. Taylor not a husband, of course, since 
 Dale had declared her right name to be Margaret Rivers, 
 and that she was unmarried? These were a thousand
 
 2U THEIR MARRIAGE BONO. 
 
 things that might be true, if the evidence could only 
 he obtained. At present the lawyer could not tell 
 whether to regard the woman at his side as merely an 
 unfortunate girl, misled by her too strong affections, or 
 a deep, unscrupulous woman of whom it was wise to be- 
 ware. 
 
 He believed he ought to ferret this matter to the bot- 
 tom, if only in his own defense, and his legal mind set 
 itself about the task, in his own slow, plodding, but sure 
 way. 
 
 As to Margaret, she was very much agitated and well 
 aware of the necessity of concealing her feelings. In the 
 few words spoken she had learned that Mr. Dale was an 
 intimate acquaintance of Mr. Hayne as well as of Mr. 
 Brooks, and that in all probability he had no knowledge 
 of her present whereabouts or that Gordon had ever 
 seen her. In the vast area which the map showed her 
 was called America she had felt it utterly improbable 
 that she would ever hear mentioned the name of her 
 lover. Yet here she was, dining with two of his friends, 
 and for all she could see he might have been one of the 
 party himself as easily as Mr. Brooks. 
 
 Her recent illness would account for any symptoms of 
 ill-health which appeared during the progress of the 
 meal, but she must be on the qui vive against surprises. 
 It was a difficult task for a girl who had never in her 
 life told but one untruth. 
 
 " Have you seen Kingdon lately?" was one of the 
 questions which Gordon asked of the lawyer. 
 
 It often seems like a fatality when a subject that 
 should be avoided gets into a conversation. 
 
 " Yes," was the reply. " He passed over an hour in 
 my office the other day/'
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 215 
 
 "His wife told me yesterday that you hadn't called 
 on them since their marriage." 
 
 The attorney could not hide his confusion, but he 
 always acted queerly when women were being discussed. 
 
 " I have been busy," he said. " But I am going 
 soon. I promised Kingdon that I would." 
 
 Mrs. Taylor was apparently listening to some remarks 
 of Mrs. Witham's, but she heard every word that passed 
 between the gentlemen. So her former lover was mar- 
 ried and from all that appeared everything was well 
 with him. A cold wave swept across her heart; not of 
 sorrow, not of jealousy, but of icy pain. She had never 
 realized quite so strongly as now the intensity of her love 
 for him. 
 
 "You go there often, I suppose," was Mr. Brooks' 
 next observation. 
 
 He wanted to judge from Gordon's manner whether 
 he was more than usually interested in the Dale house- 
 hold. He talked freely before Mrs. Taylor, for he 
 thought, as a matter of course, that the young merchant 
 had hidden his real name from her. 
 
 "Not so very often," replied Hayne. "Kingdon is 
 not the thoroughly likable fellow he used to be. I'm 
 not criticising him," he continued, seeing the inquiring 
 look on his friend's face. "He's had some trouble, I 
 think, that makes him less companionable. He is ab- 
 sent-minded, as if he were thinking always of something 
 far away. Why," the speaker looked at Mr. and Mrs. 
 Witham, saw that they were engaged in conversation 
 with Margaret, "he's been upset ever since he came 
 from Europe." 
 
 " Indeed!" said the lawyer, absently. 
 
 "Yes," pursued Hayne, lowering his voice, but not 
 enough to escape the ears most interested, " I saw him
 
 216 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 in New York that very evening. I ran across him in the 
 street, perfectly distrait, almost out of his head. He had 
 eaten nothing since breakfast. I pulled him into a 
 restaurant and put a little food and drink into him, but 
 he only partially rallied. Eeally, I was afraid to trust 
 him alone. I went to his hotel and stayed till morning, 
 and after a while I persuaded him to go home to his in- 
 valid father. That was the only name to influence him 
 with, for he worshipped the old gentleman. He's never 
 been quite right since; and, of course, the death of his 
 parent has not helped him any. I am going to advise 
 Mm to see a doctor skilled in mental diseases." 
 
 Ordinarily Mr. Brooks would have declined to listen 
 to these statements, for he detested gossip, but he was 
 so interested in Mr. Dale's relations to the young wo- 
 man at his side that he could not resist giving attention. 
 Margaret, on her part, bore the infliction well, and man- 
 aged, while not losing a word, to appear engrossed in 
 some remarks which Mr. Witham was making. 
 
 Kingdon was not only married, then, but his father 
 was dead! She knew well why he had wandered half 
 demented about the avenues of New York on the night 
 that she ran away from him. But time had brought 
 things around. He had forgotten his mad infatuation 
 in season to perform the solemn contract he had entered 
 into with his fiancee. If he was still sad enough to at- 
 tract the attention of his friends, he had at least done his 
 duty. Margaret felt a glow of honest pride in the result 
 of her terrible sacrifice. 
 
 "And now, Mr. Brooks wishes to see the crowning 
 glory of this house," cried Gordon, gayly, when the 
 party had left the table and adjourned to the parlor. 
 "Mrs. Taylor, may we have the pleasure of showing 
 him your youngest?"
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 217 
 
 The mother blushed, partly with pride and partly 
 from the consciousness that the child's father was known 
 to two of the gentlemen present, though, perhaps, sus- 
 pected by only one. 
 
 " "Would you really care to see him?" she asked of the 
 lawyer. " He is very tiny yet, and " 
 
 "The old excuse," laughed Gordon. "Mr. Brooks 
 won't expect to see a giant in a month-old infant. Oh, 
 we must have him brought down. There is no valid ex- 
 cuse for refusal." 
 
 Sidney thought, as Margaret disappeared, that per- 
 haps the countenance of the child might give some clue 
 to its parentage; but when the baby appeared he saw 
 nothing in the chubby little face that could be used on 
 the witness-stand. He felt drawn to the child, however, 
 from the instant he got a view of it. A roly-poly bundle 
 of human flesh, with dark eyes and clenched fists, this 
 was the way it presented itself before his bachelor vis- 
 ion, and yet it was a potentiality whose existence might 
 be of the utmost importance to the world. 
 
 "Whom does he resemble?" asked Gordon, much 
 amused at the manner in which Mr. Brooks surveyed it. 
 " Not his mamma, I think. Probably, being a boy, he is 
 more like " 
 
 He stopped before he had said " his father," for the 
 pained look in Margaret's eyes told him he had again 
 trespassed on feelings which were very tender. 
 
 " I don't think he looks like anybody yet," said Mar- 
 garet, in a musical tone. "He looks just like himself, 
 that's all." 
 
 " Which is quite enough," interposed Mrs. Witham, 
 in a bit of womanly instinct. " He is the very best baby 
 I ever saw," she added, to the gentlemen. 
 
 As young babies are best off in the quiet of their
 
 218 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 nurseries, Mrs. Taylor soon disappeared with this one. 
 When she returned she found that Messrs. Brooks and 
 Hayne were about to depart, and only waiting to bid 
 farewell to her. 
 
 She gave her hand to both gentlemen, to Mr, Brooke 
 first. In the palm was a piece of paper, which, with the 
 motion, she transferred from her hand to his. Usually 
 slow to comprehend secret actions, the lawyer had suffi- 
 cient presence of mind to retain the paper without re- 
 vealing the transaction by his manner, and he slipped 
 it into his coat pocket at the first opportunity. 
 
 As soon as possible after leaving his companion, he 
 read the words penciled on the paper: 
 
 *' My Dear Sir: You are a solicitor, and, I believe, an 
 honest man. I wish to see you on important business, 
 and shall try to come to your office within a few days. 
 Please give no hint of this to any one, and do not write 
 to me, as I have no correspondents, and a letter would 
 attract attention. Yours, M. T."
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXin. 
 
 A FACE IN THE ELEVATOR. 
 
 Mr. Brooks read this letter with mingled feelings. He 
 had not cared to question Mr. Hayne as to the manner 
 in which the latter made the acquaintance of the young 
 mother, nor as to how long he had known her. It was 
 certainly strange enough to discover her in the party 
 with whom he had heen invited to dine, when detectives 
 had scoured the city, and Dale had wandered for nights 
 together, according to his story, in a fruitless search. 
 And here she was, not only in a pleasant home, instead 
 of starving in some attic, but on the most friendly 
 terms with a man who visited very often much too 
 often, Sidney thought at Mr. Dale's residence. 
 
 There was still much of mystery left. Who paid the 
 bills which, counting her recent trial, must have been 
 substantial ones? If Mr. Hayne did, only one hypothesis 
 could be entertained. Gordon was not noted as a 
 philanthropist. Money did not leave his pocket without 
 expectation of reward in some shape, at some time. 
 
 And if he did not pay, who did? Sidney was obliged 
 to acknowledge, with a blush for his sex, that his indict- 
 ment against Hayne would lie equally against most men 
 whom he knew, under similar circumstances. 
 
 Mr. Brooks meditated a good while over the case. He 
 took a deeper interest in Kingdon Dale than he could 
 quite have explained. It had outraged his feelings when 
 the young husband seemed to desire to be put in com- 
 munication with a former paramour on the first week
 
 220 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 of his honeymoon. Before he would consent to aid in 
 locating Mrs. Taylor, Brooks, as will be remembered, had 
 exacted a promise that the only use of any information 
 obtained should be to assist her in material comforts, in 
 the event of her being in need. Now he had seen Mar- 
 garet, and found that she was not in want, if one could 
 judge by her appearance. He wished to relieve Dale of 
 all thoughts of her, for until this was accomplished he 
 could never have tranquillity of mind. But if Kingdon 
 ever discovered that she was living in the companionship 
 of Gordon Hayne, what would happen? 
 
 The slow brain of the attorney kept at work on the 
 problem, but he could make nothing satisfactory out 
 of it. 
 
 The first fact worth knowing, of course, was whether 
 Margaret was or was not the mistress of Mr. Hayne. 
 Secondly, if this was not the situation, whose mistress 
 $he was, if anybody's? The lawyer read over again the 
 note she had given him, stating her intention of calling 
 within a few days at his office. He would take pains to 
 gee her there, and try what effect his inquiries might 
 have. 
 
 Before Margaret came, however, Brooks received calls 
 from both the men interested. Gordon laughed lightly 
 when asked to talk about Mrs. Taylor, saying that he 
 did not feel at liberty to discuss a lady in her absence. 
 To an insinuation that he knew more than he would 
 want to tell, he grew sober, and averred that his relations 
 with her were of the purest. Then, throwing off his reti- 
 cence, he confided the tale of their meeting to the law- 
 yer, and the terms on which they were at the present 
 time. 
 
 " What is to be the end?" asked Sidney, anxiously.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 221 
 
 " Do you intend to go on forever, paying this lady's ex- 
 penses and demanding no recompense?" 
 
 " I see you have imbibed the popular errors about 
 me/' said Gordon, with mock seriousness. " Can't I 
 succor a young woman in distress and see her through a 
 critical period, from common humanity, as you could, 
 for instance? Must I intend to rob her of something in 
 return for the loose change she has required? I am sur- 
 prised that a legal mind should take so many ugly things 
 for granted, when it cannot back them up by the slight- 
 est evidence." 
 
 " There is the proverb about the smoke and the fire," 
 remarked Brooks. 
 
 "Yes, but there are people who see a great deal of 
 smoke where there is none; and sometimes, there is 
 smoke from a fire under control, a fire that will never 
 break loose." 
 
 Mr. Brooks paused to digest this idea. 
 
 " You believe in Mrs. Taylor, then?" he said. " She 
 appears to you an honest, truthful woman?" 
 
 Mr. Hayne looked sharply at his companion. 
 
 " You speak as if you doubted it," he replied. 
 
 "I? I haven't had your opportunities to judge." 
 
 " Well, to give you a straightforward answer," said 
 Hayne, " I do believe in her, implicitly. And I don't 
 see how any one can be in her presence five minutes and 
 raise such a question. You are getting to be a mono- 
 maniac, Sidney. Why, you have said things that from 
 any one else I should consider insulting to to Mrs. 
 Dale." 
 
 The lawyer looked up, his face drawn and white. 
 
 " Never!" he cried, faintly. "The things I said were 
 about you, not her. It is useless to deny that your repu- 
 tation is bad; we might as well be plain. I only gave
 
 228 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 you a warning that you must not try your arts on the 
 the wife of my friend." 
 
 His voice sank almost to a whisper as he uttered the 
 concluding words, and the listener saw that his agita- 
 tion was of no common order. 
 
 u All that you say and think on that subject is non- 
 sense," said Gordon. " And, by the way, I did not sup- 
 pose that Dale was any more your friend than he is 
 mine. It occurs to me that it was I who introduced you 
 to him." 
 
 "Yes," assented Brooks, absently. He was looking 
 again across the parlor at Mrs. Bruce's, and the only 
 thing he could see was the beautiful daughter in her robe 
 of white, with flowers in her hair. " Yes, it was you." 
 
 Gordon had long held the opinion that Brooks was a 
 crank, and that it was foolish to pay too much attention 
 to some of his notions. But he wished to get this idea 
 about Ida out of his head as soon as possible. He did 
 not intend to let anybody get between him and a prize 
 he coveted as he did that one. 
 
 When Mr. Hayne had gone Mr. Brooks rearranged 
 his plans. 
 
 " I have obtained information of the lady you asked 
 me to help you find," he said bluntly, the next time Dale 
 entered his office. 
 
 ''Where is she?" cried the other, clasping his hands 
 together. " Oh, tell me, tell me!" 
 
 The lawyer realized to the full the strength of the 
 emotion that confronted him. 
 
 " I did not agree to do that," he replied, slowly. " I 
 only promised to see if she needed your assistance: and 
 I have discovered that she does not." 
 
 Dale's strained attitude gave way to something like 
 a collapse.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 923 
 
 "Must I fear the worst?" he asked, guttnrally. "Is 
 she leading a life of infamy?" 
 
 "No. She has found friends strong friends and 
 from all I can learn is in no present danger." 
 
 "Ah!" cried Dale, with a great sigh of relief. " Tell 
 me who they are, that I may seek them, repay them and 
 thank them on my knees!" 
 
 Brooks looked at the speaker with the strongest signs 
 of displeasure. 
 
 " You have no right to thank them no right to do 
 anything about it," he said, vehemently. "You are 
 married, to a pure, beautiful, charming woman, and 
 your every thought should be given to her. This ac- 
 quaintance with Mrs. Taylor, or Miss Rivers, or whatever 
 you choose to call her, was a disreputable episode in 
 your career, and the sooner it is forgotten the better!" 
 
 Dale was clearly staggered, but he rose to the emer- 
 gency. 
 
 " There are men," he replied, with deep feeling, " who 
 would consider your remarks sufficiently insulting to 
 demand their retraction or cease all intercourse with 
 you. But to me this matter is too important to be treat- 
 ed in an ordinary way. My intercourse with Margaret 
 Elvers is the holiest thing I can look back upon in my 
 entire life. I loved her I still love her with all the 
 powers of my being. The marriage into which I was 
 cajoled is the thing of which I am ashamed. The one 
 act was at least honest, a true expression of the ten- 
 derest chords in my heart; the other is a lie from be- 
 ginning to end, and can only result in eternal injury, 
 both to me and an unhappy woman. You cannot make 
 a marriage sacred which is entered upon as that was. 
 Let me tell you, Sidney Brooks, that no sophistries will 
 influence me in this affair. If there is a doubt as to my
 
 224 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 duty to provide for any woman, it is against Ida. For 
 I had the true, sincere love of Margaret before that 
 senseless ceremony in which two liars perjured them- 
 selves to please their elders!" 
 
 The lawyer shrank before the impetuosity of his com- 
 panion. The earnestness of Dale was altogether ap- 
 parent. Brooks had never realized till to-day the full 
 force of the passion that bound him. 
 
 " But," he stammered, " surely you were not both per- 
 jurers. Surely Ida was honest in declaring before God 
 and man her love for you." 
 
 Dale shook his head. 
 
 "No. I had told her explicitly that I never could, 
 never should love her. No woman's affection could sur- 
 vive the language I used. It was a desire to gratify her 
 mother that forced her on, and the false pride of fearing 
 to announce to the world that her engagement had been 
 broken." 
 
 Brooks shook with the trepidation he was trying to 
 conceal. 
 
 " Poor girl!" he exclaimed, speaking his thoughts un- 
 consciously aloud. 
 
 " I agree with you," was the reply. " Her condition 
 is, indeed, most deplorable. But she would still hesitate 
 to take the only step that could better it, that of asking 
 the law to untie the bonds that will gall her deeper and 
 deeper as each year of her life comes and goes. We have 
 made the most frightful mistake of which human beings 
 are capable." 
 
 The lawyer was mute. The suggestion of divorce was 
 too much for him. 
 
 " Tell me more of Margaret," pleaded Kingdon. " Is 
 ghc well? Is she happy? Does she know that I am here
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 225 
 
 in Boston that I am married? What are her feelings 
 toward me?" 
 
 "I do not know why I should answer," responded 
 Brooks, stiffly. " You wanted to make sure that she was 
 not suffering for food, clothing and shelter. I can as- 
 sure you on those points. She does know that you are 
 married, and, by your own story, she would not wish you 
 to desert and betray your bride. I am sure that Miss 
 Rivers would only escape you again if you discovered her 
 whereabouts and forced yourself upon her." 
 
 The deepest pain showed itself upon Kingdon Dale's 
 brow. 
 
 " I see you do not yet understand me," he said. " Lit- 
 tle as I revere the marriage bond that was secured in 
 fraud, I shall be true to Ida until some power severs 
 us. I shall either be again the husband of Margaret 
 Rivers, or I shall never know the love of woman. I 
 am in fair health. I am likely to live forty years, for 
 all you can tell. Would you condemn me to a solitary 
 existence when there is one who loves me and whom I 
 love? You know where this woman is. By what canon 
 of justice would you keep us apart?" 
 
 The thoughts of the attorney were wandering to the 
 parlor at Mrs. Witham's, where a young mother was 
 exhibiting her babe with maternal pride. If it was this 
 man's babe there might be reason in what he said. And 
 yet the difficulties of his position were great. 
 
 " I must think of this," he said, slowly. " There are 
 many things to consider. I will think of it, candidly and 
 honestly, and let you know within a few days." 
 
 Dale drew a long breath. 
 
 " A few hours would be torture," he answered. " A 
 few minutes would seem too long. A few days are an
 
 226 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 eternity. But I have no choice. I cannot compel you to 
 divulge the secret. I can only await your pleasure." 
 
 " I am placed in a position from which I would rather 
 have escaped," said Brooks, after another pause. " An 
 accident has made me the custodian of the secrets of sev- 
 eral persons. It is my duty to act in the manner which 
 I believe, on reflection, is most just.'' 
 
 As Kingdon knew, from a thorough acquaintance 
 with the speaker, that it would be idle to attempt to in- 
 fluence him, he said no more, but left the office with the 
 understanding that he would learn by mail when he was 
 again wanted. 
 
 There was an elevator in the building, but as he was 
 but two flights above the street, Kingdon started to walk 
 down. The stairway circled about the elevator well, 
 and as the lift was made of wrought iron he could easily 
 see the persons inside as they passed him. What made 
 him look into the interior is not clear, as it was some- 
 thing he was not in the habit of doing, but in making a 
 turn in the stairway he glanced at the car moving rapid- 
 ly upward, and saw a face that made him pause. 
 
 Margaret Rivers was in that car! 
 
 The elevator stopped at the floor above. As she was 
 the only occupant it was tolerably probable that she had 
 alighted there. The lift began to descend, and as it re- 
 passed him Kingdon saw that it was empty, except for 
 the boy who guided it. 
 
 Margaret had alighted on the floor of Sidney Brooks' 
 office. 
 
 Without doubt she had come to see him! 
 
 Mr. Dale's brain seethed with its thoughts. For the 
 next few moments there was no possibility connected 
 with this case that did not find an entrance to his brain. 
 
 The conviction that Brooks was playing him false
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 227 
 
 gradually drove out all others anfi usurped their place. 
 Possessed with the information that Margaret had al- 
 lowed one lover to he familiar with her, having her name 
 and description for identification, Brooks had used these 
 things for his own benefit! The intense interest which 
 he had shown in the story, the emotion he had several 
 times displayed, returned to the mind of Mr. Dale with 
 full force. And here was Margaret visiting him at his 
 office, with which she seemed familiac The agonized 
 man sat down upon the stairs, too weak to stand. 
 
 There was no honesty in men, where women were con- 
 cerned he had helieved that for a very long time. Brooks 
 had been over-anxious that Kingdon should remain true 
 to his wife. He had shown trepidation when told how 
 slender a thread bound her to her husband. He knew 
 all about the present life of Miss Eivers, who was, to use 
 his expression, in the hands of "friends of strong- 
 friends." It was practically certain, thought the half- 
 crazed man, that the friends alluded to were simply and 
 solely the lawyer himself. 
 
 There is nothing so unreasoning as Jealousy. The 
 mind is clouded from the moment a dark suspicion takes 
 root there. 
 
 Kingdon did not feel able to climb the stairs to the 
 floor above. He thought it wiser to descend to the next 
 landing and take the elevator back. Creeping slowly 
 downward, he reached his destination after the lapse of 
 several minutes, and when he had entered the ascending 
 car he heard his name spoken by a familiar voice. 
 
 Gordon Hayne was at his side. They alighted at the 
 same landing, that at which Miss Eivers had left the 
 car. 
 
 " I guess we're bound to the same place," said Hayne, 
 cheerily. " I'm going to call on Brooks."
 
 228 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 Then he noticed for the first time the distrait appear- 
 ance of his friend, and asked the cause. 
 
 " Why, you're not looking right!" he said. " What 
 under Heaven is the matter?" 
 
 After several ineffectual attempts to speak, Dale man- 
 aged to say that he had just experienced a dizzy feeling, 
 which had nearly overcome him. 
 
 " I should say so !" replied Gordon. " Why, you look 
 almost as badly as you did that evening in New York! 
 Lean on me, and I'll help you into Sidney's office, where 
 you can lie down on a sofa." 
 
 Hesitating at first, lest he could not bear the shock of 
 seeing his darling and his false friend together, Mr. 
 Dale at last consented. It would be some comfort, he 
 thought, to exhibit to his lost love the state into which 
 her conduct had thrown him. As to intending harm to 
 either of them, that did not enter his head. He was 
 simply crushed and weak. 
 
 Brooks opened the door in person, and grew deathly 
 white as he saw his visitors. 
 
 " Here; not that way!" he exclaimed, motioning them 
 toward his public office instead of the private room in 
 which Gordon remembered that a sofa was located. 
 
 " He is ill and faint," replied Hayne, " and must lie 
 down." 
 
 Too confused to resist longer, the lawyer made way 
 for the pair, and an instant later they stood in the pres- 
 ence of Miss Rivers. 
 
 Much can be done in a fraction of a second. Margaret 
 saw the telegraphic message in the eyes of Mr. Hayne, 
 which said as plainly as words, " Do not recognize me!" 
 
 " My friend has been taken suddenly ill," said Gor- 
 don, aloud, " and I advised him to come in here and lie
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 229 
 
 down. The lady will excuse us, I know, for intruding, 
 under the circumstances." 
 
 Margaret bowed. She could not have spoken had she 
 tried. Her body seemed petrified. Hayne thought she 
 was doing wonderfully well. He did not want Kingdon 
 to get an idea that he had ever met this lady before. 
 Visiting so often at Mr. Dale's house, it would not be ad- 
 visable for suspicions of this nature to find verification 
 in the mind of the merchant. 
 
 Mr. Brooks felt that they were all standing on the 
 edge of a volcano. 
 
 Dale submitted to being placed on the sofa, and drank 
 from a glass of cold water which was brought to him. 
 Following the mere instincts of her nature, Margaret 
 took her handkerchief, wet it in the liquid and wiped his 
 forehead tenderly. 
 
 " Perhaps it will be best to leave him somewhat 
 alone," whispered the lawyer to Gordon, after a few mo- 
 ments, during which no one broke the silence. " We are 
 going out into the other office," he added, in an equally 
 low voice, to Miss Rivers. "You will stay a little 
 while?" he concluded, interrogatively. 
 
 She answered by a slight inclination of her head, al- 
 ready bent above the sick man. The others then left the 
 room. 
 
 " I will explain her presence here to your satisfaction 
 at another time," said Brooks, in response to the ques- 
 tion that beamed in his companion's face. " She ar- 
 rived a few moments ago, and will not, I think, care to 
 remain much longer." 
 
 Hayne nodded to show that he had nothing to say. 
 He was capable of jealousy, too, but not of women with 
 whom he had never been in love. And, besides, he held
 
 230 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 an opinion of Brooks that precluded suspicion in such a 
 case as this. 
 
 " I had nothing special to come up for," he said, " and 
 I think I'll have to go. You'll see to sending Dale 
 home in a carriage, of course. He's getting too many 
 of these attacks. He'll have to be more careful." 
 
 The couple left alone in the private room remained'as 
 they had been. Margaret continued to bathe Kingdon's 
 forehead, while his only action was to take her disen- 
 gaged hand in his and press it to his lips. 
 
 True or untrue, he loved her! He could not blame 
 her, whatever had happened. He only wished that he 
 might die, then and there, with her hand in his and her 
 soft touch upon his forehead.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 231 
 
 CHAPTEE XXIV. 
 
 IN THE LAWYER'S OFFICE. 
 
 The great problem still bore heavily upon Sidney 
 Brooks' mind: Was it best to hold Dale to the marriage 
 whose terms were so galling, whose results must be so 
 painful to him, and to his wife? Kingdon's deep love 
 for Margaret had shone forth in all its luminosity. 
 Three-fourths of a year had failed to change him in any 
 respect. 
 
 If Brooks could only hear what Ida had to say could 
 understand the real condition of her mind it would be 
 easier to decide. And then there was another to be 
 reckoned with Mrs. Bruce. It was not likely that she 
 would consent to such a scandal as a judicial separation 
 of her daughter from the man she had been at such pains 
 to gain. 
 
 Until something definite was decided upon, it was 
 clear that the couple he had left in his private room 
 ought not to be too long together. Five minutes after 
 Hayne left the office, Brooks knocked gently on the 
 inner doorj and, opening it, entered. 
 
 Mr. Dale lay where he had left him, and Miss Rivers 
 had not changed her position. As a matter of fact, not a 
 word had been exchanged between them. 
 
 " Are you feeling better?" asked the lawyer of the 
 prostrate man. 
 
 "Much better," was the reply, and in proof of the 
 statement, Kingdon rose to a sitting posture. " Sidney, 
 there is no use in concealing anything from you. This 
 is the woman whose husband I should have been."
 
 232 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 Margaret started at the assertion, but, remembering 
 that Mr. Brooks had had ample opportunity for knowing 
 all this implied to be true, she made no reply. 
 
 " I have told you, many times," continued Mr. Dale, 
 still addressing Mr. Brooks, " that there was one plain 
 duty which I hoped to perform. I owe this woman a 
 support. Nothing can be more certain than that. There 
 are things about which she and I have differed, but I 
 will leave it to you, as a fair-minded man, if there is any 
 question about this one." 
 
 Then Margaret's voice was heard. 
 
 "May I go out with Mr. Brooks and speak to him 
 alone for a moment?" she asked. 
 
 " Certainly. But please don't run away from me this 
 time. I shall not try to control your movements, but 
 there are things that must be settled; we shall never find 
 a better opportunity." 
 
 She bowed acquiescence to this proposition, and quiet- 
 ly withdrew in company with the lawyer. 
 
 "You have told him what?" she asked, when the 
 door was closed. 
 
 " Only that I had seen you, and that you were ap- 
 parently not in need." 
 
 "Nothing about Mr. Hayne?" 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 " And the baby; does he know?" 
 
 " Not from me. I believe he is ignorant of it." 
 
 She looked him earnestly in the face. 
 
 " I do not wish him to know," she said. " It would 
 be harder to convince him that our relations should be 
 ended forever." 
 
 " I will not tell him," said Brooks. 
 
 " Thank you. I came here to-day to see if you could 
 think of any way I could earn my living. I have ac-
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 233 
 
 cepted too much aid from Mr. Hayne He has acted the 
 part of a gentleman to me, but I have a feeling of 
 degradation in allowing one upon whom I have no claim 
 to do so much. I am very well now, and willing to do 
 anything honorable rather than eat the bread of depend- 
 ence. Yes, Mr. Brooks, whatever you know of my past, 
 whatever you may guess in relation to it, I want the rest 
 of my life to be untarnished, if that can be accom- 
 plished." 
 
 He relapsed into one of his brown studies. 
 
 "Will you answer me a few questions?" he asked, 
 finally. 
 
 "Anything." 
 
 " Were you an innocent girl when you met Mr. Dale?" 
 
 " As innocent as a child." 
 
 " How could you relinquish such a man?" asked he. 
 
 " Because I could not rob another woman. Because I 
 felt what it would be to me if I had had his promise of 
 marriage and she had stolen him away! I never killed 
 even a fly, but I would follow such a woman to the end 
 of the earth and drive a knife into her bosom!" 
 
 He shivered, for he knew she would do what she said. 
 
 "You have not changed your mind?" said he, inter- 
 rogatively. " To-day if he would leave her for you " 
 
 " I would not permit it." 
 
 " Or, if he were free?" 
 
 " If she were dead, perhaps I might find some excuse, 
 for my love can never change, no matter how many 
 years intervene." 
 
 He fixed another of his penetrating glances on her. 
 
 " Mr. Dale has a right to aid in your support," he said, 
 then. " He has the right, and Gordon Hayne has none. 
 As an attorney I advise you to accept what you need
 
 23 1- THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 hereafter from the father of your child. It is the best 
 thing for you and for him." 
 
 Margaret struggled a moment with the proposition. 
 
 " But I cannot continue to meet him," she said. 
 
 " No," was the reply, " you will not need to meet him. 
 If you both wish it, I will be your intermediary. He 
 may leave the money with me, and I will give it to you." 
 
 Mr. Dale was very uneasy during the absence of the 
 pair, and when they returned he looked inquiringly from 
 one to the other. Slowly and carefully Mr. Brooks told 
 of the decision at which he had arrived. If Mr. Dale 
 wished to contribute to the support of Miss Rivers, he 
 would be the means by which the money was given to 
 her. 
 
 At first Kingdon raved. Was he a dangerous animal, 
 he asked, to be held at arms' length by a woman who 
 had sworn that she loved him? What harm could result 
 if he met Margaret once or twice a month and put the 
 sum he would give her into her own hands? 
 
 But gradually he grew calmer. It was something to 
 know that she was safe, that neither the stifling factory 
 nor the street could claim her. And at last he consent- 
 ed. It was better than nothing, for the present. 
 
 " I don't want to be idle, as I told you when I agreed 
 to come to America," said Margaret. " There are plenty 
 of ways in which I could earn almost enough to exist on. 
 If Mr. Brooks would try to find me a situation " 
 
 " You forget," interrupted the lawyer, with the child 
 in his mind, and then, perceiving that he was upon 
 forbidden ground, stopped short. 
 
 " It can be done," said Mr. Dale. " There is a vacancy 
 at this moment in my counting-room; but I suppose that 
 is the last place you would like to accept," he added, re- 
 gretfully.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 235 
 
 " It is the last place she should accept," said the law- 
 yer, gravely. " I will undertake to secure her a situation 
 as soon as as soon as it is expedient. I do not think," 
 he continued, thoughtfully, "that there is anything 
 more we can accomplish to-day." 
 
 He rose, and there was a strong hint to his callers that 
 It was time to go. 
 
 "You'll see me sometimes, Margaret?" pleaded Mr. 
 Dale, leaning toward her. " There is no reason why we 
 should he enemies." 
 
 She put her arms about his neck hefore the attorney 
 and kissed him gently on the forehead. The action was 
 spasmodic, and not even Mr. Brooks had the heart to 
 protest against it. Then Miss Rivers accompanied the 
 lawyer to the elevator and descended, as he intended she 
 should do, first. He did not know but Mr. Dale, in his 
 excited mood, might follow her. 
 
 " Stay where you are for a few days," he said, as he 
 left her. " Then come and see me again. But be very 
 careful that Mr. Hayne does not know you come a sec- 
 ond time. He might grow suspicious and make trouble. 
 A.nd keep your secrets, my child. If he should learn 
 that your story about Mr. Taylor and his death at sea 
 were untrue, there's no telling what turn his mind 
 might take." 
 
 He was not thirty years of age, but he seemed so much 
 her elder that the expression, "My child," touched her 
 deeply. 
 
 " How can I thank you for your kindness? 3 ' she ex- 
 claimed. " You could not have used me better if I were 
 a rich and powerful client." 
 
 " Hush!" he said. " Remember, be careful!" 
 
 When he reached his office again he found Mr. Dale
 
 236 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 standing before a mirror, arranging his hair, which had 
 been rumpled. 
 
 " I am calm," said he. " I have suffered so much al- 
 ready that I think I have learned to bear anything. 
 Now, for Margaret's support, do what you think right 
 and tell me the amount you expend. I have nothing to 
 rely on but the income of my business, but I would 
 sooner live on one meal a day than have her depend on 
 charity." 
 
 He took his departure with only a few more words, for 
 there was nothing to be gained by much speaking. 
 When he was gone the lawyer locked his doors, to in- 
 dicate that he had departed for the day, and sat by the 
 drawn window curtains studying out the puzzling 
 problem. 
 
 " I shall have to know his wife better before I can tell 
 just what is best," he murmured, at the end of an hour. 
 "If she is contented to lead the life of a maid while 
 wearing the livery of a matron, that is one thing. If, on 
 the contrary, her position galls and frets her; if she is 
 dissatisfied and in distress, that is another. Dale is fear- 
 fully enamored of this English girl. Should he by any 
 mischance learn of the child it would be hard to hold 
 him. 
 
 " I must see the wife I must see the wife," he repeat- 
 ed, with conviction.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND 237 
 
 CHAPTEE XXV. 
 
 "IT'S NOT A CASE OF LOVE." 
 
 It had been a long time since Gordon Hayne "began 
 his task of winning the young wife of Kingdon Dale 
 from her marital allegiance. His method was one which 
 he called " slow hut sure." 
 
 He had resolved to win Ida long hef ore her marriage 
 day was set, and, from all that he could judge, his 
 chances of success had never been better. While not 
 dreaming of the extent to which she lived apart from her 
 husband, he knew that they were far,from the condition 
 of lovers. 
 
 Hayne had reason to believe that Ida liked him. He 
 had done her, in the matter of the mortgage, a very 
 great service. She had come to regard him in a most fa- 
 vorable light. 
 
 Mrs. Walden Bruce did not cut so much of a figure in 
 these days as she would once have done. She was 
 crushed by the troubles that had come upon her, and 
 lived an absolutely quiet life in Newton, giving up the 
 receptions she had held for so long, even declining all 
 invitations sent by her large circle of friends. The un- 
 happiness of the marriage she had so eagerly sought for 
 her daughter was painfully apparent to her. Ida would 
 not speak of it, avoiding skillfully every reference to the 
 subject, but the maternal instinct was too strong to be 
 deceived. 
 
 She had compelled her child to marry a man of the 
 most moderate means, when a match with a millionaire
 
 238 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 could have been just as easily arranged. A millionaire, 
 too, who still felt the blow, and who would never, she 
 was sure, recover from it. People might hint that the 
 morals of Mr. Hayne were not what they should be. 
 Mrs. Bruce had never heard an improper word from his 
 lips. She knew that Ida could be trusted anywhere. If 
 Gordon was permitted to call upon her still, it was a 
 positive proof to the elder lady that his conduct was un- 
 exceptionable. She had brought her daughter up to 
 know right from wrong, at least. 
 
 So Gordon continued to visit the Dales, both when 
 Kingdon was at home and when he was absent. Some- 
 times Mrs. Bruce met him there, and always treated him 
 with the same profound respect that he was at pains to 
 show to her. She not only entertained no suspicions 
 she cordially approved of Ida's intimacy with him. 
 There were possibilities to be considered; in case any- 
 thing should happen to Kingdon, what more eligible 
 opportunity for Ida to remarry than with this rich and 
 agreeable gentleman. Although her plans had gone so 
 badly, Mrs. Bruce could not help studying new ones and 
 thinking of contingencies. 
 
 It was in the month of May that Mr. Hayne began to 
 consider it time to bring his campaign to closer quar- 
 ters. It is well said by the poet: 
 
 ID the spring the young man's fancy 
 Lightly turns to thoughts of love. 
 
 Mr. Dale had gone to New York for a day or two on 
 business. Mrs. Bruce was confined to her Newton home 
 with a slight cold. Gordon had the prospect of a clear 
 field for the number of hours he was likely to need. 
 
 He called in the morning, but only for a few minutes. 
 Be had been invited to dinner for that day, partly on
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 239 
 
 Kingdon's suggestion, just before the husband went 
 away. 
 
 " Come in and dine with Ida, if you can/' he had 
 said. " Don't neglect the house, just because I happen 
 to be out of it." 
 
 The lips and eyes of the young wife had cordially sec- 
 onded the invitation, and Gordon had responded that he 
 would try that he believed it would be convenient. 
 He reflected that a better opportunity could hardly come 
 to him. 
 
 Ida served the dinner mainly with her own hands 
 she had but one servant but this only added to its 
 charm; he wanted to be alone with her as much as pos- 
 sible. When they left the table he knew that they 
 would in all probability be undisturbed, and he sat down 
 in the little parlor with a feeling that the curtain was 
 about to rise on the first act of the long-deferred drama. 
 
 He had no definite plan, but kept himself ready for 
 any move that circumstances might make feasible. 
 
 "You are dull to-night; what is the matter?" she 
 said to him, when he had waited for her to break the 
 silence. 
 
 "How can I help being dull?" he exclaimed, with a 
 trace of bitterness. " What is there to make me gay?" 
 
 " That is hardly a compliment to my company," she 
 responded, trying to laugh off his mood. 
 
 " Perhaps it is," he answered, meaningly. " But let 
 us not talk about that. I may say things I shall be sorry 
 for." 
 
 " Sometimes it is best to say what one has in mind," 
 she replied, thoughtfully. 
 
 He roused himself. 
 
 "Do you tell me to say it will you permit me?" ht
 
 240 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 asked, leaning toward her. " But, no! I cannot, I dare 
 not!" 
 
 She extended a hand in his direction, with the inten- 
 tion of calming him. He took it in his own and pressed 
 it gently, respectfully, reverently, to his cheek. Then 
 he arose, took a few steps, returned and sat by her side 
 on the sofa she was occupying. 
 
 " Ida," he said, impetuously, " there is a punishment 
 that falls with terrible force on the head of a man who 
 has neglected his opportunities. Once I loved a girl 
 with all my soul! I love her yet; I always shall love her. 
 I think sometimes that if I had had the courage at the 
 right moment that girl might now be my wife! I be- 
 lieved I had no right to speak the words that burned in 
 my bosom, and I waited until it was too late. Now I 
 can only torment myself with the reflection of my folly, 
 and fear that, after all, she is not the happy wife my 
 sacrifice was intended to make her. Do you wonder 
 that I am dull? It is a marvel that I have preserved my 
 reason." 
 
 Mrs. Dale colored highly as she listened. She could 
 not misunderstand the allusion. 
 
 '*' I believed it my duty," she said, firmly, " to obey 
 the injunctions of my mother." 
 
 She did not possess his power to speak in riddles. 
 What she had to say must be without equivocation. 
 
 " And she insisted on joining you to a man you did 
 not love," he exclaimed, " because a few miserable acres 
 of land lay side by side. For you do not love him, Idal 
 I have watched you, and I know you do not love him as a 
 wife should love a husband." 
 
 Her thoughts were very deep at that moment. It was 
 her first direct opportunity to unbosom herself to a real 
 friend.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 " No," she said, soberly, " I do not love him. There is 
 no deceit between us. He does not care for me, either. 
 We talked it over before the wedding day. He had his 
 father to please." 
 
 He rose, and, walking to the rear of the sofa, leaned 
 over her. 
 
 "Poor girl!" he exclaimed, with tears in his voice. 
 " Poor girl!" 
 
 She allowed him to stroke her hair, which he took 
 pains to cease doing of his own accord. 
 
 " Tell me one thing," he asked, drawing a long 
 breath. " It can do no harm, now that the truth is be- 
 ing told. Would you have married me if I had dared 
 to ask you?" 
 
 " I think I would have married any man my mother 
 directed." 
 
 " Even though you were in love with another?" 
 
 She nodded, and a tear rolled down her cheek. He 
 felt a fierce longing to press his lips upon the tiny drop, 
 but he resisted. It was not a time to risk all by one 
 premature movement. He took his silk handkerchief, 
 instead, and touched it lightly to her eyes. 
 
 " Do you think a contract entered into in such a man- 
 ner is binding, even if it wrecks two lives?" he asked. 
 slowly, and with a tremble in his voice. 
 
 " There is no escape," she replied, with a gasp. " My 
 mother is still living. My husband gives no indication 
 of a willingness to release me. It is idle to indulge in 
 fancies." 
 
 He drew a chair close to her, and threw all his power 
 into what he said. 
 
 " There is such a thing as divorce. When two 
 love each other oceans should not force them apart."
 
 242 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 She shook her head, while her eyes fastened them- 
 selves on the carpet. 
 
 " One cannot get a divorce unless given cause," she 
 whispered. 
 
 " A man who does not love his wife will give cause, 
 sooner or later," he responded, with conviction. 
 
 She seemed frightened at the turn the conversation 
 had taken, for she drew away from him and shut her 
 lips tightly together. 
 
 " I ought not to talk of this with you," she said, shiv- 
 ering. " I have been learning to bear my cross. Don't 
 tempt me to cast it aside, while there are others to suffer 
 as well as I." 
 
 She had admitted that she wished release from her 
 husband. She had not denied his intimation that she 
 cared very much for another. 
 
 " Ida/' he said, in his tenderest manner, " I would 
 give the world to serve you. Your situation seems to 
 me the most deplorable that can be conceived. At pres- 
 ent you are, luckily, able to endure it. As the days pass 
 your power in this respect will steadily wane. You are 
 a magnificent woman, and a loveless union is more than 
 any man has a right to ask. Let me assure you, if you 
 need the assurance, that all I am, all I possess, is at your 
 disposal. When the time comes that you can use me, 
 say the word, though it be but as the cloak of Raleigh, 
 to keep your shoe from soiling. May I hope that?" 
 
 She nodded, with her eyes full of tears. 
 
 Then he said he must be going, and she walked slowly 
 with him to where his hat and cane had been left. 
 
 Mr. Hayne hailed a car and rode out to Dorchester, 
 where he could divert his mind with the interesting 
 woman and child who had been go long under his pro-
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 243 
 
 tection. He could pass an hour with them, and with 
 their landlady, who was seldom dull in conversation. 
 
 But it was destined to be a disagreeable day with him 
 all through. One of the first things he learned after 
 meeting Margaret was that she intended to leave this 
 home soon, and seek another at a distance. 
 
 '*' I am so glad to tell you/' she explained, " that I 
 have found old friends who will relieve you of my care. 
 As soon as I can I am to go to another city, and shall not 
 need your aid any more." 
 
 The blank look with which Mr. Hayne received this 
 information banished the smile from the mother's face 
 almost as soon as it came there. 
 
 " Some friends!" he repeated. " That explains your 
 visit to Sidney Brooks. And so," as her telltale blush 
 announced that his guess was correct, " you intend to 
 desert me for the first man who will give you a lift?" 
 
 " But I have no claim upon you," replied Margaret, 
 breathlessly, " and I thought you would be glad to 
 know I would not need your help. You have been kind- 
 ness itself, and I shall always be most grateful, but " 
 
 " Oh, don't explain!" he broke in. " When are you 
 going?" 
 
 His manner was so abrupt that Miss Rivers was much 
 confused. 
 
 " In a few days," she said, stammeringly. " And, per- 
 haps, after a little while, I can send you the amount 
 you have expended for me. I have the account here." 
 She took a little memorandum book from a drawer. 
 " Here is every date and figure, from the first." 
 
 He felt inclined to laugh, as he thought how far the 
 real sums varied from those she had been given. He 
 was paying, for instance, $20 a week to the Withams in- 
 stead of the $2 which she had been told was the price
 
 244 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 of her rooms, the meals she had eaten having been at 
 the " urgent request " of Mrs. W., who pleaded lone- 
 liness and lack of feminine companionship. Everything 
 had gone wrong with him that day, and this was but on 
 a par with the rest. "Well, he had never counted this wo- 
 man very highly in his plans. She amused him, and he 
 did rather like the baby. Never mind. If she was go- 
 ing, she was going. 
 
 He did not like to talk with her in his present mood, 
 so he descended to Mrs. Witham's part of the house, 
 where he found that lady in her usual good spirits. 
 
 " Your lodger tells me she is going," he remarked. 
 
 " Yes," said Mrs. Witham, eyeing him inquiringly. 
 
 " Does she say where?" 
 
 " No. But I can find out, if you wish." 
 
 " Why the devil should I care?" he said, harshly. " I 
 picked her out of the gutter, and she may fall back into 
 it, for all of me." 
 
 Mrs. Witham was a shrewd judge of men. 
 
 " You do care, nevertheless," she said, good-naturedly. 
 " If I knew all that is in your mind, I should know what 
 to do in reference to a discovery I made to-day." 
 
 It is said that curiosity is a feminine trait, but I have 
 noticed that some men are not free from it. 
 
 " There is nothing in my mind," he replied, " that 
 will prevent my listening to anything you may have to 
 aay." 
 
 The woman eyed him closely. 
 
 " It isn't a case of love, I'm sure," she mused, aloud. 
 " You're not in a mood to be jealous of anything that 
 occurred before you knew Mrs. Taylor." 
 
 "I should say not," he snapped. 
 
 " And if I have made a chance discovery which gives 
 an acquaintance of yours away a man who is supposed
 
 THETR MARRIAGE BOND. 245 
 
 to be above such things you won't object to knowing 
 it?" 
 
 He indicated that he would have no such objection. 
 
 She drew a number of pieces of letter paper from her 
 pocket. 
 
 "Don't tell Witham I found these," she said, hesi- 
 tatingly. " Say you picked them up yourself. They 
 were in her waste-basket." 
 
 She laid the pieces upon a table, in their proper order, 
 BO that the writing could be followed closely. The first 
 words were "My Dearest Margaret," and the last, 
 " Yours Forever, Kingdon." 
 
 It was not a long letter, but it revealed all that Mr. 
 Dale would least have liked Mr. Hayne to know, and the 
 latter felt his heart throb against his bosom aa he re- 
 flected on the weapon thus put into his hand. 
 
 " Isn't it an awful good joke?" exclaimed Mrs. 
 Witham, holding her sides with laughter. 
 
 " The finest in the world," was the reply, as Gordon 
 joined his merriment, however forced, to hers. 
 
 And he put the torn pieces of the letter in his pocket.
 
 246 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVL 
 
 "WHOSE CHILD IS THAT?" 
 
 Notwithstanding the mild manner in which Kingdon 
 Dale had accepted the dictation of his friend, Mr. 
 Brooks, in regard to the way his assistance should be 
 given to Miss Eivers, he was far from content with the 
 total separation from her in person that the plan in- 
 volved. While at the lawyer's office he was not in a 
 condition to make a protest against a scheme which, 
 whatever else it did, restored to him the privilege of con- 
 tributing to the support of the woman he loved. This 
 he had at o-e time believed would almost satisfy him, 
 for he had passed miserable months in dread of the 
 awful alternatives of suicide and prostitution for the 
 young and inexperienced stranger in a foreign land. 
 
 It is human nature to ask for all that can be obtained 
 and to be pleased with as little as possible. Before Mr. 
 Dale had left the lawyer's office an hour he regretted 
 that he had not made a decided stand for a different ar- 
 rangement. 
 
 Although he had seen her face to face, and felt the 
 deliciousness of her soft touch on his forehead, she had 
 disappeared as effectually as before. He went twice to 
 Mr. Brooks, begging at least one more opportunity to 
 talk with her. Sidney not only declined, representing 
 that, as the lady's attorney, he had no right to grant this, 
 but took occasion to lecture his friend upon the folly of 
 reopening a chapter in his life which he had now the 
 strongest reason to keep closed.
 
 THF.IR MARRIAGE BOND. 247 
 
 " No way is provided in the laws of the United States 
 by which a man may have two wives," he said, curtly. 
 
 "But I have not even one," protested Kingdon. 
 
 A spasm crossed the face of the listener. 
 
 " That is not true," he replied. " You have a lawful 
 wife, and nothing but your excited fancy stands between 
 you. The mistake was in the marriage, under these cir- 
 cumstances." 
 
 '" But now it is done now that the harm has hap- 
 pened to Ida and to me is there nothing you can sug- 
 gest except that we go on through life torturing each 
 other by playing dog-in-the-manger? You have studied 
 law and read the philosophers. Is there no remedy for 
 us in all your books on the shelves there? By Heaven, 
 I will find one before I am through!" he added, des- 
 perately. 
 
 To resolve to do a thing was, to Sidney Brooks, to 
 put the resolve in operation. He did not move as quick- 
 ly as some men, but in the long run he accomplished 
 quite as much as many of more rapid motion. 
 
 He had been invited often enough to visit the Dales. 
 He had, indeed, called once or twice, in a formal way, 
 and had a brief talk with both of them of an evening. 
 But always others were there, and he learned little or 
 nothing of value to the emergency that now confronted 
 him. Both husband and wife had conducted themselves 
 in such a manner as to arouse no suspicion in the mind 
 of any person not already conversant with the facts. 
 Ida had great tact, and Kingdon a fair amount of com- 
 mon sense; and, with the exception of Mr. Brooks, no 
 one knew the entire secret. No, not even Mrs. Bruce. 
 
 The lawyer selected an evening when Mr. Dale was to 
 be from home. He wanted to talk with the wife alone*
 
 248 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 He did not know exactly what he would say to her, and 
 at best he was diffident with women. But to have the 
 husband present would spoil all. Of that he was certain; 
 the rest he trusted to chance. 
 
 When his card was brought in, Ida hastened to greet 
 him. She had much esteem for Mr. Brooks, regarding 
 him as one of the few thoroughly honest persons with 
 whom she caine in contact. From the first time they 
 met she had liked him. She had a feeling as she took 
 his hand that evening that he would be a real friend in 
 case one was needed. 
 
 "Mr. Dale is out, I am sorry to say," she told him. 
 " But that will not prevent your remaining, I trust/' 
 
 He laid down his hat and cane where she indicated, 
 and replied with his accustomed straightforwardness: 
 
 " I knew he was out. Mrs. Dale. I came because he 
 was out." 
 
 The isolation of her married life, the great need of 
 some one to confide in, gratitude that he had been 
 so frank, with perhaps still other sentiments that had 
 been growing in her breast unconsciously, swept Ida 
 Dale off her feet, metaphorically speaking. Instead of 
 relinquishing the hand she had taken, she held it 
 tighter, and in a sort of convulsive clasp drew its owner 
 so near that their garments touched. 
 
 " It is very kind of you to say this," she murmured, 
 frightened at what she was doing, and at the same time 
 unable to resist her impulses. 
 
 Mr. Brooks proved for once to be equal to the occa- 
 sion. He took her other hand, and, with both of them 
 now in his own, he held her there. 
 
 " I would do anything for you anything!" he said, 
 astonished at his own actions. "I I am afraid you 
 are not happy."
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 249 
 
 A tear rolled down her cheek. 
 
 " You are right," she whispered. 
 
 And then she tried to say more and could not. 
 
 " Let us sit down," said he, " and talk about it." 
 
 Loosening her hold as if unwillingly, Ida followed 
 the advice. She had done that which in the presence of 
 any other man would have covered her with confusion, 
 hut his manner seemed to redeem everything. He had 
 taken her warm hand in his and held it tightly, he had 
 let her draw him to her and had drawn her to him in 
 return, and yet she was quite safe. He was only going 
 to "sit down and talk." 
 
 " What is the cause of your unhappiness?" was his 
 next question. 
 
 His voice was as sweet and low as any woman's. 
 
 " My marriage," she answered, without hesitation. 
 
 " You are wedded to one man while you love an- 
 other?" 
 
 She started at the statement, made so simply. 
 
 " I am married to a man whom I do not love and 
 who does not love me/' 
 
 He returned to the question, after the manner of law- 
 yers. 
 
 "And there is another whom you would have mar- 
 ried had you consulted your heart alone?" 
 
 "You surely do not expect me to admit that," she 
 stammered, faintly. 
 
 " No. I will answer it for you. I know it is true. I 
 have known it for a long time." 
 
 She touched his arm with her fingers, as gently as if 
 it were brushed by the wing of a bird. 
 
 "How did you know?" she whispered. 
 
 "I cannot tell. I suppose it was instinct, for yon 
 have never uttered a word to me on the subject I could
 
 250 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 not speak to you about it, when your marriage was al- 
 ready decided upon. The problem was too great for me 
 to solve. I could only remain silent, and resolve to 
 shield you if I found anything venomous crawling across 
 your path." 
 
 The woman shuddered. 
 
 " The things that crawl have no power to do me 
 harm," she said, earnestly. 
 
 " Many a woman has thought that, and discovered 
 her error/' said Mr. Brooks. " The only safeguard is in 
 the love of a true husband." 
 
 The loss, the terrible loss, that she had suffered, rolled 
 over Ida's mind like a wave. The love of a true hus- 
 band! What had she, what was she likely to have, to fill 
 its place? 
 
 " I am in a delicate position," said Mr. Brooks, later 
 in the evening. " There are many things I might say 
 were not the atmosphere so clouded. Let us leave it this 
 way: If there is anything in which I can help you, prom- 
 ise to call on me without hesitation." 
 
 " I will do so," she replied, fervently. 
 
 It was something to a woman who had so few persons 
 on whom she could rely. She saw the tall form of the 
 lawyer depart half an hour later with a sense of grati- 
 tude for his interest in her that passed the power of ex- 
 pression. 
 
 Mr. Dale's determination that he would find the 
 whereabouts of Miss Rivers suffered no abatement as the 
 weeks glided by. With that strange double conscious- 
 ness which is often noted, he attended to his business 
 in a manner that gave his associates no occasion for 
 fault, while beneath the talk of spices and coffee the 
 image of Margaret was ever clearly outlined.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 251 
 
 He made a new arrangement with the firm of de- 
 tectives, and a man was detailed to shadow both Mr. 
 Brooks and his office at all hours. If Margaret had been 
 to see the attorney once, she might come again; if she 
 did not come, she might write; if she did neither, Brooks 
 might go to meet her at some other place, possibly the 
 very one in which she was living. 
 
 The vigilance of the spotter was at last rewarded. 
 Miss Rivers entered the lawyer's office, and when she 
 emerged was followed to a house in Cambridge, where 
 she was domiciled. 
 
 Kingdon Dale did not hesitate long when he learned 
 under which roof his idol was to be found. That very 
 evening he took the street car from Boston and went to 
 call upon her. 
 
 " I believe there is a lady rooming here," he said to 
 the servant who answered his ring. 
 
 "Mrs. Eivers? Yes." 
 
 So she had resumed her own name! 
 
 '' Tell her a gentleman wishes to see her." 
 
 The servant was gone several minutes. When she re- 
 turned she said Mrs. Rivers wished to know the name of 
 her caller. 
 
 Taking a Mankbook from his pocket, Mr. Dale wrote 
 a few words on a leaf and tore it out. " Give her this," 
 he said. 
 
 He had written: "I must see you for a few minutes. 
 Unless you utterly hate me, do not refuse this boon." 
 
 The messenger returned with the request that he walk 
 upstairs. The lady he wished to see was in the rear room 
 on the first floor. An instant later he had mounted the 
 steps, and, not even pausing to knock, had opened the 
 door and stood in the presence of his beloved. 
 
 When she received his note, and knew what she bad
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 uspected at first, that it was Mr. Dale who was waiting, 
 Margaret had been thrown into a state of excitement. 
 Her first impulse was to decline to see him. Then she 
 reflected that a man of his temperament could not be 
 put off so easily that having discovered her home he 
 would insist on meeting her at all costs. She would have 
 to let him in, notwithstanding the tacit agreement she 
 had entered into with Mr. Brooks. 
 
 She was holding the baby in her arms when the mes- 
 sage came, and for a few moments she contemplated va- 
 rious plans for disposing of that young gentleman until 
 after the conference was ended. But, as she glanced 
 about the room, she saw that there were many telltale 
 proofs of his existence besides his own self. A crib stood 
 by her bed; little garments were scattered here and 
 there. 
 
 And then there came over the young mother an irre- 
 sistible yearning to show this part of herself and of him 
 to the long-absent father. She wanted to gaze into the 
 eyes of her former lover when they first encountered 
 those of his offspring. 
 
 So she met him, standing in the centre of the room, 
 with the baby in her arms. 
 
 His astonishment was intense. For a few seconds he 
 was fairly dazed by the spectacle. 
 
 It was her child; he did not for an instant doubt that. 
 Something of the halo with which painters crown the 
 Madonna hovers over the head of every young mother. 
 
 " Margaret!" he stammered. " Margaret!" 
 
 A thrill of delight shot through her bosom. 
 
 " Sit down," she said. " You did not know of this," 
 she added, when he had been persuaded, though with 
 difficulty, to accept the invitation to be seated. "I
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 853 
 
 thought it best to keep the information from you, 
 but" 
 
 His eyes were opened wide. The blood had sprung to 
 every artery in his body. His face was suffused with 
 color. 
 
 " TSvltmne! Margaret, you do not mean that it is 
 mine/" 
 
 That she did mean it that she was overwnelmed at 
 the insinuation that it could belong to any one else, was 
 all too evident from the look in her face, from the gush 
 of tears in her eyes. He fell on the floor at her feet, 
 mother, father and child mixed in confusion. 
 
 " Mine!" he cried again, raising himself to look at the 
 tiny thing. "Miner 
 
 She nodded through her tears, and did not resist when 
 he caught her to his breast, to the imminent danger of 
 the infant, and kissed her again and again on the lips. 
 
 "My wife!" he exclaimed, between each embrace. 
 "My darling, darling wife!" 
 
 Slowly her senses returned, and she extricated herself 
 from the heap. 
 
 " You must not call me that," she said, sadly. " You 
 are married, and the name of wife should be sacred to 
 you." 
 
 He laughed hysterically. 
 
 " I will never listen to such casuistry again," he said. 
 " You are the only wife I ever had, and your talk shall 
 not divorce us. This boy this girl " 
 
 " Boy," she interrupted. 
 
 " This boy is witness of which was my true marriage, 
 and all the powers on earth shall not gainsay his evi- 
 dence." 
 
 Rivers of joy flowed over her at his words, but she 
 would not give up so soon.
 
 254 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 " You have married since I saw you; is it not true?* 
 she asked. 
 
 " I went through a ceremony before a clergyman to 
 prolong the life of my father," he admitted, " but there 
 was no marriage. I have wedded but one woman, loved 
 but one, been true to but one and she is here now." 
 , Thrown by the force of her affection on each wave 
 of his impetuosity, the strong conscience in the Eng- 
 lish girl drove her back again to the shore of what she 
 called justice. 
 
 " You have been living with her as your wife," she 
 said. " That completes the action of the law and the 
 church." 
 
 "I have lived under the same roof, but I am no 
 bigamist. I married the woman I loved in Gibraltar, 
 and I cannot wed again. I have a wife, dearest, and a 
 child! They are here. All the sophistries in creation 
 shall never make me doubt again where my duty lies/* 
 
 Miss Eivers listened with palpitating heart. 
 
 " But legally you are hers," she replied. " She can 
 claim you." 
 
 " Even there you need fear nothing," he said. " She 
 does not wish to claim me. She was led into a mistaken 
 step by a misguided view of filial devotion. She will be 
 very willing to surrender a man who adds nothing to 
 her happiness. I will give her the opportunity of seek- 
 ing a divorce. The law that has chained her shall make 
 her free." 
 
 He tried to kiss Margaret again, but she resisted him 
 effectually. 
 
 " No, Kingdon," she said, " it is the old story once 
 more. A woman who has loved you enough to take your 
 name in marriage could not be willing to give you up. 
 I would die of hunger rather than steal the love that be-
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 255 
 
 longs to another. You are hers. You are not mine. I 
 have no right to you." 
 
 He was sobered, but not convinced. He took the 
 baby in his arms and talked about him. 
 
 "I really believe he looks like me!" he continued. 
 " What have you named him?" 
 
 " I have called him nothing but ' Baby ' yet. He is so 
 little." 
 
 " He is a giant!" was the reply. 
 
 He finally succeeded in making her say that he might 
 call sometimes, and that the sum necessary for the sup- 
 port of her and his child should come direct through 
 his hands. 
 
 " You will have to behave very nicely," she said. " No 
 more hugging or kissing. And you must not come 
 oftener than once a month." 
 
 This prohibition was at last reduced to once a week, 
 with which he was fain to be content, for the present. 
 He would trust to the future to curtail the limit to 
 reasonable proportions. 
 
 It was a blissful evening that he passed, take it alto- 
 gether. He had known nothing so happy since before 
 that awful day when they landed together in New York 
 and she deserted him at the hotel door.
 
 256 THEIR MARRIAGE BONDu 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 IDA ROUSED TO ANGER. 
 
 Tbe new address of Miss Rivers was soon communi- 
 cated to Mr. Hayne by Mrs. \Yitham, who ascertained it 
 from an expressman. Probably Margaret would not 
 have refused to give it to him herself, had he asked her, 
 for she felt the highest gratitude for all he had done 
 in her behalf, and in parting she tried to give expression 
 to her f efjings by her most hearty thanks. But Gordon 
 was in no mood to question her, or to accept her praises. 
 He did not at the moment care where she was going. 
 He thought in an indistinct way that her actions did not 
 comport very well with her professions, but he was will- 
 ing to end the incident. His mind was full of Ida Dale, 
 and other matters took their places with things of minor 
 interest. 
 
 When Mrs. Witham told him the street and number 
 of the Cambridge house, however, he caught eagerly at 
 the lever thus put into his hands. "Worthless as it was in 
 one sense, since he did not mean to visit Margaret in her 
 new home, it might be very valuable in its effect when 
 Ida knew that her husband had a former mistress so 
 near Boston. The letter that had been pieced together 
 revealed everything. It admitted the pecuniary sup- 
 port which Miss Rivers was receiving from Dale, and 
 expressed the deepest grief that he could not occupy his 
 '*' true position " as her natural protector in the eyes of 
 the world. This letter might certainly have a value if 
 used at the proper time.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. $57 
 
 Gordon's passion surprised him by its strength. 
 There was nothing ephemeral about it. It grew with 
 each passing hour, until it was the only thing that filled 
 his mind. He would have Ida, if there was any way to 
 accomplish it. No matter at what sacrifice of money or 
 honor, he must possess this sweetest ornament of wo- 
 manhood. 
 
 Everything convinced him that his progress was sure, 
 if slow. Mrs. Dale regarded him as a friend. His pres- 
 ence at her apartments was always welcome. He was 
 confidential with her almost to the degree of familiarity. 
 She had confessed that her marriage was not happy. 
 She had implied, at least, that she loved another, and 
 who could that other be but himself? Brought up with 
 Puritanic strictness, the idea of violating the laws of so- 
 ciety must be brought into her mind with the greatest 
 care. 
 
 During the very hours that Mr. Dale was meeting his 
 love and his child in Cambridge, quite a different scene 
 was being enacted at the flat in Boston. Mr. Hayne was 
 making one of his afternoon calls, and was using every 
 effort to bring his long quest to a close. 
 
 " You are sad again to-day," Ida said to him, when he 
 had been in the house half an hour, and had replied in 
 monosyllables to all her suggestions. 
 
 " There is no happiness in store for me," was his re- 
 ply. " I am doomed .0 misery. Not only have I my 
 own griefs to bear, but one I love is being deceived in 
 the most cruel manner, and there is nothing I dare do 
 to aid her." 
 
 She studied the statement for some seconds, and then 
 asked him bluntly to explain. 
 
 "What good will it do?" he demanded. "No one 
 blesses the bearer of evil tidings. Supposing I should
 
 858 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 tell a woman that her husband was a robber and a mur- 
 derer. She might leave him, but she would always as- 
 sociate me with her injury." 
 
 A robber and a murderer! That certainly could not 
 refer to Kingdon. 
 
 " I never could understand riddles/' Ida said, with a 
 pout that made her look entrancing. " Why don't you 
 speak out plainly. If you know anything that you ought 
 to tell me, fear nothing. I hope I am sensible enough 
 not to connect a friend who brings unpleasant news with 
 the news itself." 
 
 He regarded her so intently that she flushed before his 
 gaze. 
 
 " Shall I?" he asked, dreamily. " I ought to tell you, 
 but is it wise?" 
 
 He took a package from the pocket of his coat, and 
 held it thoughtfully in his hands. Then he slowly un- 
 wrapped it and exhibited two pieces of glass, on which 
 fragments of a torn letter were pasted in such a manner 
 that both sides could be easily read. 
 
 "No!" he exclaimed, as if strongly moved. "It is 
 better that you do not read it." 
 
 Ida had seen at a glance that the writing was that of 
 her husband, and her curiosity was aroused to the ut- 
 most. As Mr. Hayne had expected, she sprang to his 
 iside and endeavored to take the article from him, while 
 he was in the pretended act of returning it to his pocket. 
 There was a pretty little struggle, and then, as if out of 
 pure gallantry, he surrendered, and the panes of glass 
 were in her hands. 
 
 "It is cruel!" he said, with well-simulated emotion. 
 " I cannot justify myself for letting you see this. But, 
 after all, the fault is his. I will resist no more. Lay it
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 on the table, and see what your friend and mine is capa- 
 ble of doing." 
 
 With shaking fingers she did as suggested. Mr. Hayne 
 assisted by laying the pieces in their proper order, and 
 turning the pages when she had read to the foot of each. 
 With palpitating heart the young wife read the lines 
 which showed that her husband had a real, true affection 
 for another woman; that the marriage bond which 
 bound him to one he could never love were all that 
 kept him from linking his life to her. And Mr. Hayne, 
 having played his great card, watched the effect with 
 eyes which he had attuned to sympathetic grief for her 
 outraged feelings. 
 
 " My dear girl," he said, in a low tone, when she had 
 reached the end for the second time each word having 
 been re-conned " I am so sorry for you; but, after all, it 
 was my duty to bring you this. Could anything be more 
 heartless than his conduct?" 
 
 " Nothing," said Ida, blinking hard, and putting her 
 hand blindly to her forehead. " How did you come in 
 possession of this?" 
 
 He told her a carefully prepared story, how he had 
 met Miss Rivers at the home of his friend in Dorchester; 
 how a servant, recognizing the signature to the letter, 
 had picked it out of a waste-basket and handed it to him 
 as a "joke " on Mr. Dale; and how he had been shocked 
 by the perfidy which its contents represented. 
 
 " I thought at first that I would show him what I had 
 learned," added Hayne. " and demand that he terminate 
 a double existence that is a crime to you and a shame to 
 humanity. But his letter showed that the right alterna- 
 tive that of giving up this woman is too improbable 
 to be hoped for. The language he uses in that note 
 hows a perfect infatuation. Then I reflected that no
 
 260 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND). 
 
 one can ever tell what a woman will do; that perhaps 
 you would rather retain him, unfaithful though he be, 
 than to have your name in the divorce column; that I 
 had no right to interfere with your affairs, without put- 
 ting you in possession of all the facts. And I brought 
 the letter here to-day, doubtful if I should find courage 
 to exhibit it, fearful lest the good turn I wanted to do 
 you might be misconstrued and cause me to fall in the 
 esteem of one whose high opinion I value above every- 
 thing." 
 
 She sat listening With the air of one from whom all 
 bodily strength had vanished. The blow had been very 
 hard for her. 
 
 "We shall have to separate Kingdon and I," she 
 said, thoughtfully. 
 
 " But your mother?'*' he asked, significantly. 
 
 " I cannot consider her altogether," said Ida, calmly. 
 " For her I made the error of my life. She has seen her 
 mistake, and I do not think she will try to override my 
 feelings again. If she does, I must oppose her. This is 
 a matter that is vital. There are no two wdys to take." 
 
 " There is one that many would think of," he said, 
 leaning affectionately toward her. " A divorce makes a 
 terrible scandal. However wronged, the wife is injured 
 by the operation. When a husband has violated his 
 vows, it is not always best to release him from the obli- 
 gations he has assumed. That Would be pleasing him 
 too well, for as soon as the decree is pronounced he ia 
 free to spend the rest of his days with the one who 
 shares his guilt." 
 
 Then, to Gordon's intense surprise, the young wife 
 rose and turned upon him with a torrent of invective. 
 She understood him at last.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. J61 
 
 "Beast!" she cried. "Coward! Wretch! How do 
 you dare! How do you " 
 
 The words choked in her throat. She was too angry 
 for expression, but the convulsed lines in her face told 
 their own story. 
 
 " Curse it! " he answered, rising. " You are a pretty 
 woman to use this talk to me!" 
 
 A marvelous change had been wrought in hoth their 
 faces. Hatred and repugnance struggled for the mas- 
 tery where warm affection had sat so lately. 
 
 " Leave the house!" shouted Ida, pointing to the door. 
 " And never, so long as you live, enter it again!" 
 
 Mr. Hayne laughed in her face, sneeringly. 
 
 "Pshaw!" said he. "You won't get rid of me BO 
 easily. I have treated you like a lady of refined feelings, 
 and that was my mistake. You are not entitled to any 
 such usage." 
 
 She looked at him as if he were a python into whoet 
 den she had inadvertently strayed. 
 
 The front door bell rang, and a guest was shown into 
 the reception room, but in their excitement neither of 
 them heard a sound. 
 
 He paused to catch his breath, and then said, " It is a 
 sin that we should quarrel, Ida. You drove me mad 
 with your coldness, when I have loved you half my life 
 and would spill my heart's blood for you. Come to me 
 now, give me the affection I crave, and no woman ever 
 had a truer, more loyal friend than I will be to you." 
 
 He opened his arms and advanced toward her, but she 
 retreated. 
 
 " Go, I tell you!" she cried, pointing to the door. 
 
 The door from the reception room opened silently. 
 The tall form of Sidney Brooks entered. Mr. Hayne 
 iurned to ascertain the identity of the intruder. When,
 
 262 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 he saw Brooks he was even more confused than if it had 
 been, indeed, the husband. 
 
 Pausing but an instant to recover her breath, Ida 
 flew to the lawyer, and nestled, like a frightened bird to 
 his side. She began to sob, and Mr. Hayne had a feel- 
 ing that he could not well have exhibited himself in a 
 more trying situation. 
 
 "What shall I do to him?" whispered the melodious 
 voice of her rescuer. 
 
 " Oh, let him go! Make him go!" was the reply, in 
 distressed tones. 
 
 The lawyer pointed toward the open door, without 
 changing his position. With the arms of that lovely 
 woman about his waist, he had no wish to move. 
 
 " I'll go, all right," snapped Hayne, drawing himself 
 up. " Of course, you don't understand but half of this, 
 or you'd see it in a different light. But there's one 
 thing I will say, and that is, the mortgage on her prop- 
 erty will be foreclosed at once. I'm not going to put a 
 fortune in jeopardy for people who haven't the first 
 symptom of gratitude." 
 
 " You need not go to any trouble on that matter," was 
 the dispassionate answer of the lawyer, still without 
 changing his attitude. " If you will send the papers to 
 my office to-morrow / will pay you all that is due, prin- 
 cipal and interest." 
 
 The promise was so unexpected, and so full of relief to 
 the young wife, who had immediately thought of her 
 stricken mother's prospective distress, that she unwound 
 the arms that encircled the lawyer's waist and twined 
 them, as far as her smaller height would permit, about 
 his neck. 
 
 " Oh, that's it, eh!" exclaimed Hayne to Mrs. Dale. 
 " Well, I wish you joy! The girl I told you of, who has
 
 THiIR MARRIAGE BOND. 368 
 
 beer Kingdon's darling, is also a particular friend of 
 this high-minded fellow. I found her the other day in 
 the private room at his office! It's getting complicated, 
 isn't it?" 
 
 The form that clung to Mr. Brooks grew heavy upon 
 him. The clinging hands slowly unclasped. The knees 
 gave way, and Ida slid downward through his arms to 
 the floor. 
 
 " Fiend!" cried the lawyer to Hayne, "I believe you 
 have killed her!" 
 
 Aroused at last to a sense of decency, Gordon ran to 
 the kitchen, where he acquainted the servant with the 
 fact that her lady had fainted. The girl came in with 
 remedies, and, thinking that it was best for him to go, 
 the man who had precipitated all the trouble left the 
 house. 
 
 Soon after Ida had been placed on a sofa and regained 
 consciousness, Mrs. Bruce arrived. A brief explanation 
 of the fact that her daughter had been suddenly over- 
 come was what Mr. Brooks vouchsafed, for, above all, he 
 did not wish her to guess what had happened. Before 
 leaving he stooped for a moment over Ida, to express the 
 hope that she would soon be all right, and she whispered 
 so lov that it reached no ears but his: 
 
 " Do not desert me, my friend my only friend!" 
 
 " I will try to run in to-morrow/' he said, the remark 
 intended for both ladies. " I want to see you and King- 
 don together, and you also, Mrs. Bruce. There has been 
 a syndicate formed for building a boulevard through 
 Newton, and they are ready to make a very handsome 
 offer for a part of your lands there."
 
 264 THBIR MARRIAGE BOND 
 
 CHAPTEE XXVIH. 
 
 "THAT IS AMUSING, MY DEAR." 
 
 The camel that succeeded in putting his head inside 
 the tent of the proverbial Arab had little difficulty in 
 introducing subsequently the whole of his body. The 
 first visit of Mr. Dale to Miss Eivers, at her new home, 
 broke the ice between them. Kingdon paid no attention 
 to the limit of " once a week " that she had made to his 
 calls, but was soon in the habit of running in daily, and 
 spending an hour or more with his old sweetheart and 
 her pretty child. Nothing was said about the matter to 
 Mr. Brooks. The income that Mr. Dale allowed to Mar- 
 garet still passed through the lawyer's hands. Dale 
 thought the easiest way the best, and did not care to 
 disturb the new status quo, which had so many elements 
 of delight to him after his long separation from the 
 woman he loved. 
 
 As to Margaret, though troubled with doubts, she 
 could not refuse to receive the man whose presence was 
 of all things most delightful to her, and who conducted 
 himself like a thorough gentleman, without ever offer- 
 ing to renew the love-making of the old time. She 
 found excuses enough, arguing that no real harm was 
 being done to the legal wife, concerning whom not a 
 word of discussion was had between them. Mr. Dale 
 devoted most of his stay on each occasion to the baby, 
 basking in the presence of his infant eon in a way that 
 was touching in the extreme. He talked about him to 
 Margaret, storing his mind with the lore of babyhood.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 265 
 
 but for the most part the time was passed in a contented 
 silence, except for such sounds as the child began to 
 make, of satisfaction at seeing his new friend, whom he 
 grew to expect and admire. 
 
 " Have you given him any name yet?" asked Dale one 
 afternoon, when he had passed the usual happy time at 
 play with the little fellow. 
 
 "Not really," she replied, in some confusion. "I 
 have thought of calling him Leonard, after my father, 
 but he wants two names, I suppose, and the other one is 
 still undecided. 
 
 He knew as well as if she had said so in plain words 
 that she wished to make that other name " Kingdon," 
 and hesitated on account of the peculiarities of the case. 
 
 " You might name him for the friend who took such 
 good care of you before he was born/' he suggested. 
 " By the way, you never have told me anything about 
 him; and perhaps you had rather not," he added, looking 
 at her furtively. 
 
 Miss Rivers blushed. 
 
 " I have no right to tell you," she said. " He was a 
 kind gentleman, who sympathized with my misfortune 
 and treated me with the utmost consideration." 
 
 " An old man?" asked Kingdon, after a pause. 
 
 " No, a young man; and very good-looking; rich, too, 
 he gave me to understand." 
 
 He digested the statement with a frown that he could 
 not help. 
 
 " What do you suppose was his object?" he asked. 
 
 She waited some time before replying. 
 
 "If I must answer, and tell the whole truth," she 
 said, at last, " I believe he meant to win my love, and 
 wait for the time when I should manifest it toward 
 him."
 
 265 THEIR MARRIAGE BONJ>. 
 
 " And he did win some of it, I suppose," he said, dole- 
 fully. "You could hardly be impervious to so much 
 kindness." 
 
 " He won my regard and gratitude," said Margaret. 
 
 " A single man, of course?" 
 
 She bowed. 
 
 " Single, young, handsome and rich. If you had not 
 met me again, and he had asked you to marry him " 
 
 " He would not have done that, I am sure," she inter- 
 posed. " There was the baby in the way." 
 
 It was pathetic to think of! No matter what grand 
 opportunities might come to this girl, the illegitimate 
 child would raise an insuperable obstacle to her future. 
 
 " What is that ring on your wedding finger?" he de- 
 manded, noticing it, strangely enough, for the first time. 
 
 " I bought it in New York," she said. " It was nec- 
 essary to pretend to be a wife. You understand? I told 
 Mr. this gentleman of whom we are speaking that my 
 husband died at sea on the passage over." 
 
 " I did not suppose you could invent such a big story 
 as that," said Dale. 
 
 " It was not easy, but it had to be done." 
 
 "Poor little girl!" he exclaimed, sympathetically. 
 " What a monster I must seem to you!" 
 
 She bade him " Hush!" Before he could say anything 
 more a servant knocked and presented the card of a 
 gentleman who, she said, was waiting below stairs. 
 
 An uncontrollable fit of jealousy, of curiosity, call it 
 what you may, seized Mr. Dale at the moment. He took 
 the card from the servant's hand and read the name 
 upon it before Miss Rivers could stop him: 
 
 " GORDON HAYNE." 
 
 "Wait a minute at the door!" he said to the maid,
 
 THLELK. MARRIAGE BOND. 267 
 
 huskily, closing the portal. Then he turned and sur- 
 veyed Margaret sternly. 
 
 " You know whose card this is," he asked, chokingly. 
 
 " Yes," she said, growing paler, but losing nothing of 
 her firmness. 
 
 " It is that of the ' friend ' who paid your bills for 
 nearly a year?" 
 
 "Yes," she said, again. 
 
 " And he is still in the habit of calling to see you?" 
 
 " No. It is the first time since I moved. I did not 
 think that he knew my address." 
 
 "Was she lying again? Did she think it "necessary," 
 as she had done in the matter of the wedding ring? 
 
 " Margaret," he said, " I don't disbelieve you, but I 
 want you to prove this to me. I know this man, and I 
 know that his reputation is of the worst. I have a right 
 to warn you that his companionship is dangerous." 
 
 "He is a regular visitor at your house," she said, 
 bridling a little. 
 
 " Yes, that is true," replied Dale, soberly. " How did 
 you knowP' 
 
 " I heard him speak of it to a guest he brought to 
 the house where I was living. I know what you mean to 
 insinuate." 
 
 Her mouth was drawn, her eyes distended, her figure 
 in a tremble, as she uttered the disagreeable words. 
 
 "Margaret, my love!" he cried. "You do me in- 
 justice. But I ask just one favor. Let me conceal my- 
 self and hear what he has to say. I may fathom a man 
 like that better than you. Give him a quarter of an 
 hour, with no restraint on his tongue, and then make 
 some excuse to end the interview. When he is gone I 
 will tell you what I think and explain any doubt that 
 may still be in your inind."
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 She would not have refused him had he asked that she 
 place her head on a block and let him try the tenderness 
 of her neck with an axe. She was only too glad to re- 
 move any doubts that he might have concerning her re- 
 lations with Mr. Hayne. She threw open the door of her 
 bedroom, and when he had passed the threshold she 
 drew a screen across the entrance. Through this flimsy 
 article the concealed man could not only hear but see. 
 Then she spoke to the girl at the door and said she 
 might show Mr. Hayne up. 
 
 It was the very day that Gordon had made the sad 
 exhibition of himself with Mrs. Dale, which Mr. Brooks 
 had luckily interrupted. On leaving the house the 
 young man had gone forthwith to the address he had ob- 
 tained from Mrs. Witham, hoping that a sight of the 
 mother and her child might divert his attention from 
 the ignominious failure of his long-cherished projects, 
 On the way it occurred to him that, Ida being lost for- 
 ever, it might not be a bad idea to cultivate the pretty 
 English widow. It would not be a bad scheme to take 
 her altogether from Mr. Dale as a revenge on a family 
 toward whom he had begun to feel a wholesale enmity. 
 Mrs. Taylor, or Miss Eivers, certainly must entertain a 
 sentiment of gratitude toward him, a substantial basis 
 from which to begin operations. 
 
 Banishing the cloud from his face as well as he could, 
 Gordon met Margaret cordially, and soon felt quite at 
 home in her little sitting-room. 
 
 " Where is the crowning glory of the establishment P" 
 he asked, presently, looking about for the baby. 
 
 " He is asleep on the bed in the other room," she re- 
 plied, in a low tone, " and we must be sure not to wake 
 
 him."
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 269 
 
 " Does his father come often to see him?" he asked, 
 abruptly, and then laughed at her evident discomfiture. 
 
 " I told you," she said, in a dignified way, " that Mr. 
 Taylor died on the voyage from Gibraltar to New York." 
 
 " I know you did," he answered, sagely, " but a letter 
 that you received at Mrs. Witham's, and which you fool- 
 ishly tore up and threw into the waste-basket instead of 
 the fire, tells another story." 
 
 To the consternation of Miss Kivers he drew out the 
 letter as he spoke, pasted upon the panes of glass so as 
 to be perfectly legible. 
 
 It did not occur to her to taunt him with being a spy, 
 especially at this moment, when the author of those lines 
 was hidden behind a screen within ten feet of him. She 
 was much crestfallen, and stood, like a detected culprit, 
 waiting for him to proceed. 
 
 " I don't blame you," he said, good-naturedly, " for 
 your little falsehood. It was quite excusable, under the 
 circumstances. But there is something that I ought to 
 say seriously. Kingdon Dale has no right to assume the 
 expense of your maintenance at this time. He is already 
 too far behind in a financial way. Why, the mortgage on 
 all his property is more than the whole thing is worth, 
 and the interest is overdue. I ought to know, for I ad- 
 vanced money to try to save him, and I shall have to 
 foreclose this week to keep from losing what I have in- 
 vested." 
 
 The young woman trembled as she listened, and pres- 
 ently sought a chair, into which she sank dizzily. Was 
 she aiding, after all, in the ruin of the man she loved so 
 well? There was something in the manner of Mr. 
 Hayne which convinced her that there was a foundation 
 to his story. And she pitied Kingdon with all her heart,
 
 870 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 knowing that not a word which had been spoken had 
 escaped him. 
 
 " Now, my dear," pursued Hayne, " I have sought 
 you to-day to propose a more sensible arrangement than 
 the one under which you are living. I will furnish you 
 a handsome house and put at your disposal a sum that 
 will supply all the wants of yourself and the little one. 
 I will use you like a lady, and in return you will treat 
 me like a genuine friend. All care for your future will 
 vanish. What do you say?" 
 
 Margaret wondered if the answer she was about to 
 make would seem to the watcher behind the screen dic- 
 tated by the knowledge of his presence there. 
 
 "I wish you would withdraw the question," she an- 
 swered, in a hushed tone. " I cannot treat it seriously, 
 when I remember that this is the first time you have 
 said anything to bring a blush to my cheek." 
 
 He laughed aloud. 
 
 " That is amusing, my dear," he said, " when one re- 
 members the experience through which you have al- 
 readv passed. Unless you accept my offer, what will 
 you do?" 
 
 Her heart was beating rapidly, partly out of pity for 
 the desperate case of Mr. Dale, till then unsuspected by 
 her. 
 
 " I do not know," she answered, quietly. " I have 
 been ready once before to meet death, if necessary, and I 
 should not shrink from it again." 
 
 Hayne began to fear that he was to be beaten for the 
 second time that day, and in a quarter where he had 
 least expected a rebuff. 
 
 " Well, you have made a nice mess for your lover!" 
 he replied, coarsely. " His wife will soon have him ia 
 court, with your name as co-respondent."
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 271 
 
 " His wife!" cried Margaret. " She does not know of 
 my existence!" 
 
 " She did not yesterday. To-day she has seen the let- 
 ter he wrote you. Yes, I showed it to her," he added, 
 in response to her questioning eyes. 
 
 " You? Why did you do that?" 
 
 " Because I chose. I am like you; I do things because 
 it pleases me. She wants a divorce, and she has a right 
 to one." 
 
 " But the letter," said Margaret, vaguely, " does not 
 refer to anything that has happened since her marriage. 
 I have never wronged her in thought or deed since that 
 day." 
 
 He laughed again, discordantly. 
 
 " The law does not need actual proof," he said. " The 
 letter shows that Kingdon Dale, a married man, writes 
 to a woman not his wife, protesting the most violent love 
 for her. If, in addition to that, it is proved that he 
 visits this woman " (he said this as a " feeler " and her 
 start convinced him of the correctness of his guess) " the 
 judge will take the rest for granted." 
 
 She tried to grasp at every possible straw. 
 
 "But Mrs. Dale would not wish a separation!" she 
 said. " She could not!" 
 
 " Another error of yours," he smiled, bitterly. " She 
 is in love with another person herself." 
 
 The screen was thrown to the floor with a crash, and 
 Kingdon Dale, trembling with anger, stepped over it 
 into the room. 
 
 "Liar!" he shouted, raising his arm threateningly at 
 the astonished man. 
 
 Miss Rivers threw herself between them. 
 
 " Kingdon," she said, " think think of all he did for
 
 272 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 me! Mr. Hayne," she added, in tones of entreaty, 
 " there must be no quarrel between you here." 
 
 "Eetract what you said/' was Mr. Dale's answer to 
 Hayne. "You have calumniated a pure and virtuous 
 woman." 
 
 " I retract it," said Hayne. " I do so to avoid a dis- 
 agreeable scene for this lady, who, of all the people I 
 have ever helped, is the only one to exhibit the least 
 symptom of gratitude. I was betrayed into saying more 
 than I meant. Hereafter watch your own household, if 
 you have time enough from your outside affairs." 
 
 So saying, he took his hat, waved an ironical good-bye 
 to Dale, cast a look of regretful farewell at Margaret, and 
 left the house. 
 
 The pair that remained looked at each other for some 
 seconds in silence. 
 
 " You believe me now," said Margaret, after a while. 
 "You believe my words and acts consistent with the 
 honor of your child's mother?" 
 
 " Oh, yes!" he replied, with a deep sigh. " But about 
 Ida! Could there have been anything to his assertion?" 
 
 Miss Eivers cast down her eyes. 
 
 " You love her, after all, I see," she murmured, clasp- 
 ing her hands over her bosom. 
 
 "No! I tell you, no! But I do not want harm to 
 come to her. She is unhappy enough now. If some vil- 
 lain has dared " 
 
 Margaret caught him by the sleeve. 
 
 " Go home to her," she said. " Forget all that is past. 
 Remember your duty to guard her. Give no man oc- 
 casion to insult her. Go, Kingdon, go, and think of me 
 no more!" 
 
 He cried out with pain, saying she was mad that no 
 ^roman but her would ever claim his love and devotion.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 273 
 
 She then alluded to what Mr. Hayne had said about 
 his finances, and declared that she would accept nothing 
 which made it hard for him to fulfill his legitimate obli- 
 gations. 
 
 He explained for answer the matter of the Newton 
 lands, saying that even if they were entirely lost it would 
 not affect his capacity to earn a living, both for Ida and 
 for her. In an hour he persuaded her to promise that 
 she would for the present remain where she was and 
 trust him. 
 
 " And if that f ellbw Hayne returns," he said 
 
 "I will give orders not to let him in. And yet, let 
 us remember always how very kind he was to me BO 
 long!"
 
 274 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 THE TWO WIVES MEET. 
 
 There are many men who are capable, under the in- 
 fluence of passion or anger, of committing disreputable 
 acts, and who are, nevertheless, thoroughly ashamed of 
 their conduct as soon as their pulses have had time to 
 cool. When Gordon Hayne reflected on the manner in 
 which he had spent that day he was extremely disgusted 
 with himself. He felt that he had played the part of a 
 coward and a knave, and that two of the best friends he 
 had ever possessed were lost to him forever. 
 
 That night he wrote three letters. One was to Mr. 
 Dale, retracting explicitly the charge he had made 
 against his wife. One was to Mr. Brooks, begging him to 
 say nothing of the unhappy situation in which he had 
 found Gordon, and expressing the deepest regret at 
 the occurrence. And the third was to Ida, bidding her 
 farewell, asking her to forget the insane freak that had 
 guided him, and assuring her that as far as the Newton 
 land was concerned the principal could remain for years, 
 if need be, and that the interest was a matter of no ac- 
 count whatever. 
 
 He sent the three letters, and then began to wonder 
 whether they would do any good. He knew that Dale 
 and his wife were badly mismated; that Kingdon had a 
 love for Miss Eivers which he was not likely to outgrow; 
 that Brooks, hide it as he might, would give his very life 
 for Ida, and that Mrs. Dale, only recently aware 
 of it, cared more for Sidney than she had ever cared for
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. *:75 
 
 tny other person. A rearrangement of the ties of those 
 four people could hardly fail to be of benefit to all, if it 
 could be accomplished. 
 
 The more he thought about it, the more he wished 
 that he had back the letters that he had deposited in the 
 mail box. He had written them unselfishly, but without 
 due consideration. He would have to see more of these 
 people in person, in order to right things. The one 
 most likely to receive him politely was Margaret. He 
 made up his mind that he would have another and a far 
 different interview with her. 
 
 Mrs. Dale met her husband on the evening of her en- 
 counter with Hayne in much the usual way. He was 
 absorbed in the events of the day, and more absent- 
 minded than ordinarily. He knew, it is true, that Gor- 
 don had probably shown Ida the torn pieces of the letter, 
 but it was not for the husband to begin a conversation 
 that related to that matter. He believed it would not be 
 Ida, either, who would open the subject. As for the 
 charge against his wife, his opinion was voiced in the 
 exclamation with which he had met it, " Liar!" 
 
 The married existence of this couple was not suffi- 
 ciently intimate to lead to much conversation. The 
 dinner was usually partaken of in comparative silence. 
 The evening paper took up Dale's time after that until 
 callers appeared or he took his stroll downtown. At 
 bedtime they occupied separate apartments, not even 
 very near each other. 
 
 The day passed, and neither said the slightest thing 
 in reference to what was on both minds. But Ida was 
 not idle. She had made up her mind as to the course 
 she would adopt. She meant to watch her husband, and 
 find whether he went to the house where his " dearest
 
 376 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 Margaret " lived; and if he did so, she determined to fol- 
 low him. 
 
 A shrewd woman does not necessarily need the services 
 of a detective to carry out a plan of this kind. A man 
 who has no reason to think that he is watched and no 
 particular fear of discovery, may be tracked with ease. 
 Ida took a car to the neighborhood of her husband's 
 office, at that part of the afternoon when she thought 
 him most likely to leave business. She waited patiently 
 till he came out, and then followed at a respectable dis- 
 tance. He walked to Bowdoin square, and took the first 
 car that went to Cambridge. She took the second, and 
 alighted a minute later. Mr. Dale walked rapidly toward 
 the house where Miss Rivers lived, never once turning 
 his head. His wife followed in his wake, and in a few 
 moments saw him enter a residence that she had no 
 reason to doubt was the one of which she was in search. 
 
 Now, for the first time, she hesitated. She had 
 learned nothing of Margaret but her given name. What 
 was to meet her the other side of that door she had only 
 a faint idea. She was not over strong. She dreaded 
 nothing more than a collision with Kingdon or any 
 one else. But one thing was perfectly plain. She must 
 try to see the woman he loved, and, better than all else, 
 when he was with her. 
 
 Summoning her courage, Ida at last went to the bell 
 and rang it. 
 
 "I wish to see a lady who boards here/' she stam- 
 mered, to the servant. 
 
 " Miss Rivers?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 She might be wrong. It was possible that there were 
 two ladies boarding at the house, but she must run that 
 risk.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. S77 
 
 " Will you give me your card?" 
 
 That course would be suicidal. 
 
 "It would be useless," said Mrs. Dale. "She has 
 never met me. Say it is a lady who has important busi- 
 ness, and must see her alone." 
 
 Showing Mrs. Dale into a parlor, the domestic van- 
 ished on her errand. The description given convinced 
 Mr. Dale at once of the identity of the caller. 
 
 " It is my wife!" he whispered, growing pale. 
 
 " Show her up at once," said Margaret, firmly. 
 
 "Are you insane!" he cried, as the servant disap- 
 peared. 
 
 " I shall see her," she responded, in a tone that left 
 no room for doubt. " You must step into that bedroom 
 and close the door." 
 
 "But the baby?" he said, glancing with appre- 
 hension at the child in its crib. 
 
 " I shall leave him where he is. This is a critical mo- 
 ment, Kingdon. You have assured me that your wife 
 does not love you; that there is no attachment between 
 yon such as should accompany the marriage tie. If that 
 is so, nothing she will learn here will trouble us or her." 
 
 " Ah! You disbelieve me!" he exclaimed, clasping his 
 hands together. 
 
 "No. I believe you, and I love you. But until I 
 p-peak with this lady I shall never know exactly what my 
 duty is." 
 
 There was a faint knock on the door, and as he 
 stepped into the inner room, Margaret opened it to her 
 visitor. 
 
 " Miss Rivers?" said Ida. " Miss Margaret Rivers?" 
 
 She was very white and short of breath. 
 
 " Yes," responded Margaret. " Come in. Take this
 
 278 THETR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 chair." She handed her a rocker, into which Ida sank. 
 " And your name, I believe, is Mrs. Dale." 
 
 Surprised, Ida responded in the affirmative, and then 
 there was a moment of silence, during which the tears 
 slowly filled Mrs. Dale's eyes and began to overflow. 
 
 "I have come to beg your pardon," she said, in i 
 shaking voice, when she had partially recovered. 
 
 " My pardon!" echoed the listener. 
 
 "Yes." She glanced about the room, and her eyes 
 lit, for the first time, on the sleeping baby. " Oh!" she 
 cried, with a gasp. " Is it his child? But, of course it 
 is. I can see his very features. I came," she continued, 
 jerkily, " to ask you to forgive me; but I fear you never, 
 never can." 
 
 For answer Miss Rivers threw herself on the floor at 
 the feet of her caller and clasped her hands about her 
 knees. Ida leaned over and kissed her repeatedly on her 
 dark hair. 
 
 " Oh, you make me so ashamed!" cried Margaret. 
 " But you must hear my story. You shall not condemn 
 me utterly until you know all." 
 
 Ida stroked the dark tresses and bade the suppliant 
 figure rise. 
 
 " I do not condemn you," she said, soothingly. " I 
 only condemn myself. You loved him, with all your 
 heart, I am sure; and I was only trying to satisfy my 
 mother. You are a holy being. That beautiful child 
 sets the seal of glory on your forehead. Tell me, did you 
 love him very, very much?" 
 
 A gush of tears was her only answer. Miss Rivers was 
 too much overcome to make a verbal reply at that time. 
 
 "How can I ask such a senseless question?" pursued 
 Mrs. Dale. "You loved him; this mite of humanity 
 tells that without equivocation. He loved you, too ; and
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 279 
 
 had it not been for the promise extracted from him he 
 f ould have been to-day what he should be, your true and 
 lawful husband. I was an ignorant girl. I adore my 
 mother. I did what she bade me, with her assurance 
 that it would come out right in time. But it never has, 
 and it never will come out right. We are living the 
 meanest of lies before the world. He is not my husband, 
 I am not his wife. We are a curse to each other, though 
 I must say, in justice to him, that he warned me ex- 
 plicitly in advance. I know what the world would 
 say, but to me your union with him is a thousand 
 times more honorable than mine. He has a noble heart, 
 and unwittingly I tried to crush it. I did not know, I 
 could not understand. If I had dreamed that I was 
 robbing you, my dear girl, and had known of that 
 cherub, my duty would have been plainer." 
 
 Miss Eivers was at last persuaded to rise, but she 
 would not sit down. 
 
 "I am so ashamed before you," she said, when she 
 could speak, " that I do not know what to say. But you 
 shall have him back. You are the noblest woman I ever 
 knew. I want to tell you all about it. Yes, you must 
 hear me. I beg it as a great favor. I learned to love Mr. 
 Dale before I heard of your existence. We were travel- 
 ing together and my father died. I had no other 
 friend to look to. One day he told me I know he 
 would let me say this that he loved me. My heart gave 
 a great leap of joy. A future seemed to open of the 
 most surpassing brightness. Then he began to speak of 
 his engagement to a lady in America, and I refused, ab- 
 solutely, to allow him to say anything more of his af- 
 fection for me. I told him he must return to America 
 and carry out his promise to you. I refused, though it 
 should break my heart, to steal him from another wo-
 
 280 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 man, for I thought no sin could equal that. It seemed 
 settled that we were to part at Gibraltar that he would 
 return to you, and that I should bury my sorrow as best 
 I might among strangers. Oh! I was so hungry for love, 
 I coveted so dearly the sweetness of his presence. 
 
 " Let me tell you everything. There is only a little 
 more. I came to America with him, under an agree- 
 ment to separate when we arrived, and as soon as I could 
 I ran away from him, friendless and penniless in a 
 strange land. I meant oh! I swear it to you! to ban- 
 ish him from my life forever, but an accident brought us 
 together again. And, there is one thing more, when I 
 learned that he had been married I hid my home from 
 him till he discovered it himself; and never, no, not 
 once, has he acted since then in any manner that my 
 dear mother in heaven might not have looked down 
 upon without a blush on her angel face!" 
 
 The tears of the two women mingled, their arms 
 around each other's neck. 
 
 " You shall have him entirely now," said Mrs. Dale, 
 when she had regained a little of her composure. " Poor 
 girl! You have suffered enough." 
 
 Margaret shook her head. 
 
 " No. He is yours," she replied. " I have done wrong 
 to let him call here; but but, there was the " She 
 pointed to the crib, whose little occupant began to show 
 signs of wakefulness." 
 
 " Let us call Mr. Dale, and get his opinion," said Ida, 
 finally. She pointed to the inner door. " He is there, 
 of course. I saw him enter the house." 
 
 Margaret was startled at this cool mention of a secret 
 that she had been in a tremble about ever since her 
 Tiaitor entered. But she did not know how to better
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 281 
 
 things by stopping Ida when the latter walked to the 
 bedroom door and threw it open. 
 
 "Kingdon," she said, gently, "come here and help 
 HB." 
 
 Mr. Dale emerged, with a clouded brow. He was 
 much in fear of the outcome of an interview between 
 these two women, and as he came into their presence he 
 looked anxiously from one to the other. 
 
 " This is your true wife," said Ida, indicating Miss 
 Rivers. " Both she and her lovely child have the high- 
 est claim upon you. I seem in their presence a mere in- 
 terloper, and I want you to promise to set them right." 
 
 " Do not listen!" cried Margaret, wildly. " It is I who 
 have committed the fault. Her claim is as strong aa 
 duty and law. Kingdon," she addressed him impressive- 
 ly, "we must say good-bye. Our later meetings have 
 been a mistake. When a man is married he should for- 
 get everything that comes between him and his wife." 
 
 Mrs. Dale interrupted. 
 
 "Answer one question," she said, to her husband. 
 " What woman do you love best in all the world?" 
 
 He turned his face to her, with set lips. 
 
 " Ida," said he, " you have asked me an honest ques- 
 tion and I will make an honest reply. For you I have 
 the friendship of my youth, the esteem of a neighbor, 
 the sympathy of an old associate. For Margaret I have 
 the passionate longing of a lover. My child lies there in 
 its cradle. During all my life I have had such feelings 
 for no other woman. Eight or wrong, I shall love her 
 till the end." 
 
 Miss Rivers essayed to stop the flow of his impassioned 
 words, but her effort was of no avail. Mrs. Dale smiled 
 angelically, and, now, perfectly calm, took the hand of 
 the English girl and placed it in that of her husband.
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 " God hath joined you," she said. " Neither man nor 
 woman should put you asunder." 
 
 She reached down and lifted the babe from its cradle. 
 With wide-open eyes the little fellow crowed joyfully, 
 and put out his arms for Margaret, who took him and 
 let him nestle against her bosom. 
 
 "There are things necessary for right procedure in 
 human society," continued Mrs. Dale, deliberately. 
 "Kingdon, you must get a divorce, or allow me to do so. 
 The most polite reason to allege is desertion. You are 
 going to New York soon, I hear, on business. When 
 you take your trunks from the flat where we live you 
 must never return there. After a certain time the court 
 can be asked to remedy our fearful error. Then you 
 will let the law do what it should have done long ago, 
 and begin life again with the woman you love and the 
 child who has a right to your care and fatherly over- 
 sight. As for me," she added, in a lower voice, " do not 
 think I shall regret the step. It is never too late to do 
 right. You know very well, Kingdon, that I have never 
 been in love with you. For your kindness, your con- 
 sideration, both to me and my poor mamma, I shall bless 
 you always. It is better for all that this separation take 
 a legal and permanent form. My greatest wish is that 
 you may be happy with this dear girl. Do not speak, 
 please, till I am gone. Good-bye." 
 
 She took Margaret's cheeks between her hands and 
 pressed three warm kisses on her forehead. Then Miss 
 Rivers cried out: 
 
 " Angel, saint! How can I accept such a great boon 
 from you?*' 
 
 " Fear nothing," replied Mrs. Dale. " It may prove a 
 boon to me as well. If this rearrangement comes a little 
 late, it may bring happiness, nevertheless."
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND, 
 
 She touched the child, still nestling in hit mother's 
 arms. 
 
 " May I kiss him?" she asked. 
 
 Margaret lifted him up to her, and a warm caress was 
 imprinted on the little cheek. 
 
 " What is his name?" 
 
 " I I have not named him, yet," said Margaret. 
 
 " Call him Kingdon. It will please me very much. 
 And, some day, if you have the happiness to have a girl 
 child, call her Ida. I shall think it the highest of com- 
 pliments. Now, good-bye. Don't try to stop me. King- 
 don, be good to this dear little woman, and thank God 
 that He gave you such a treasure." 
 
 She was gone. The baby looked after her, wonder- 
 ing what had become of the blonde head that made such 
 a light in the room. Margaret fell on her knees by the 
 chair in which Ida had sat, sprinkling it with her tears. 
 And Kingdon Dale, his heart full of gratitude, buried 
 his face in his hands and wept also.
 
 284: THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXX. 
 
 " WHEN DID YOU BEGIN TO LOVE ME?" 
 
 There was business for Mr. Dale in New York, and it 
 was the desire of his firm that he should spend as much 
 time there hereafter as possible. The necessity of ab- 
 senting himself from his wife brought this duty at an 
 opportune time. He made arrangements to give up his 
 residence in Boston, doing all of those petty and dis- 
 agreeable things which the law demands of a man who 
 ceases to fill the position of a husband with a view to 
 final separation under the seal of a court. He notified 
 his landlord, for one thing, that he should surrender his 
 flat on a given date. Ida packed up and went to live 
 again in Newton, with her mother. To Mrs. Bruce's 
 inquiries the young wife returned the briefest replies. 
 
 "I have taken your advice once in these matters, 
 mamma, and made a great failure of it. This time I 
 must act on my own judgment. Kingdon and I have not 
 quarreled. We are never going to live together again, 
 that's all. Don't talk to me about it, or on any account 
 to any one else." 
 
 And poor, crushed Mrs. Bruce fell into the plan, for 
 want of anything else to do. This little daughter of 
 hers had suddenly become the bigger woman in strength 
 of mind. 
 
 " "We shall all be happy, mamma, by and by," said Ida, 
 soothingly. " Wait, have patience, and you will see." 
 
 While anxious to preserve appearances, Mr. Dale was 
 not willing to be separated entirely from his Margaret
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 285 
 
 and his child. They removed to one of the suburbs of 
 New York, where he visited them at regular intervals. 
 There was a long time to wait, according to the Massa- 
 chusetts laws, quite three years, and he thought this no 
 more than he had a right to do. 
 
 For several months Margaret argued the matter over 
 with him every time he called. She had no right, she 
 said, to take him from that lovely woman who had 
 offered her such kindness. But one day, after a trip to 
 Boston, he whispered something in her ear that made 
 her start. 
 
 " Oh, if you are certain of that!" she exclaimed. " It 
 would make me feel so much better about it. Are you 
 sure there is no doubt?" 
 
 Things began to resume the even tenor of their way. 
 During the succeeding year two events worth recording 
 came to the people in whom the reader is interested. 
 One was the sale to the Newton Boulevard Company of 
 a considerable portion of the land owned by Mr. and 
 Mrs. Dale. The sale did not in either case include the 
 homes, nor the nearest land about them. Mr. Brooks 
 negotiated the transaction, and at the request of the 
 owners paid off the mortgage held by Gordon Hayne. 
 
 " I'll have to take the money, I suppose," said Hayne, 
 " but I'd much rather let it lie. Of course, the security 
 was ample." Then he added, to himself, " I'll write to 
 Ida, and try to square myself. Kingdon doesn't come 
 home any more, they say. The most I can expect now is 
 to regain a little of her good opinion; and much good 
 that will do me, confound it!" 
 
 There was over a hundred thousand dollars left out of 
 the sale after settling the indebtedness, and Mr. Brooks 
 wrote to Mr. Dale a formal, business letter, asking what 
 he should do with it.
 
 280 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 "Give it to Ida," was Kingdon's reply. "She will 
 need it/' 
 
 Then Mr. Brooks wrote to Ida, asking the same ques- 
 tion. 
 
 " Give it to Kingdon," she answered. " It will help 
 him in his business." 
 
 It was finally arranged that the sum should be divided 
 on the exact lines of the original ownership. As Mrs. 
 Dale's estate was the larger, the larger sum went ac- 
 cordingly to her. 
 
 Mrs. Bruce brightened at the news. The home in 
 which she lived was now secure, and the money removed 
 her and her daughter from the danger of want. It was 
 no more, she said, than right to have the sum divided 
 thus. Mr. Dale had deserted her daughter without just 
 cause, and the least he could do was to secure her mate- 
 rial welfare. 
 
 The legal time had hardly expired when Mrs. Dale 
 filed her papers, asking for a divorce. She had sent 
 in the first place for Mr. Brooks and asked him to attend 
 to the matter, but he replied, almost brusquely, that he 
 could have nothing to do with it. When pressed for a 
 reason he showed a communication, recently received 
 from the Governor of the Commonwealth, tendering him 
 a Superior Court judgeship, which he said he had con- 
 cluded to accept. This would prevent him taking any 
 matters of this kind. Could he recommend any one? 
 No, but almost any reputable attorney would do. 
 
 "It will be uncontested," said Ida, looking at him 
 wistfully. 
 
 He did not reply. A sadness spread over his brow. 
 When he next spoke it was of other things, and his 
 voice was husky. 
 
 Mr. Hayae read the decree in a newspaper when he
 
 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 187 
 
 was at breakfast, and pushed his coffee and eggs away. 
 His appetite ^as gone. 
 
 Kingdon did not wait an unnecessary time before se- 
 curing a legal sanction to his union with Margaret. The 
 years he had been obliged to wait seemed endless, and 
 yet the end came. He took her to his heart and home, 
 and began again to know what happiness meant. 
 
 Before that day Margaret had received a letter from 
 Ida, couched in the dearest and most affectionate terms. 
 It begged her not to let any fantastic scruples come in 
 the way of taking the position that belonged to her and 
 to her boy. 
 
 "Do not imagine that I am unhappy," Ida added. 
 "A union that never was what it professed to be hai 
 been severed, and I am like a bird freed from its cage. 
 Let me hear from you often, and some day we must meet 
 and kiss each other again. For I love you, dear girl, 
 with all my heart." 
 
 As she had no child to complicate the situation, Ida 
 secured from the court the privilege of resuming her 
 maiden name. And it did not wholly surprise some of 
 the persons in this drama when, about a year after her 
 divorce, an announcement appeared in the daily papers 
 of the marriage of " Judge Sidney Brooks, of the Supe- 
 rior Court, to Miss Ida Bruce of Newton." 
 
 " When did you begin to love me?" Ida asked of her 
 new husband the day after the wedding. 
 
 " I hardly know," he said. " There had been in my 
 mind the dream of such a being before we met. When 
 I saw you in your mother's parlor I recognized the wo- 
 man of my aspirations, only to be told that you were 
 destined for another. What a joy, after I had resigned 
 myself to perpetual bachelorhood, to find you clasped in 
 my arms at last!"
 
 388 THEIR MARRIAGE BOND. 
 
 The next spring Ida heard news from the present Mrs. 
 Dale. 
 
 " We have a new baby," she wrote, with the faltering 
 hand of a convalescing mother, " and we have named her 
 ' Ida Bruce Dale.' My only prayer is that she may be 
 as pure, as true, as noble, as her loved and honored 
 namesake. Kingdon sends his best wishes to you and to 
 your husband." 
 
 And then, with the certainty of a woman, she wrote 
 her " P. S.": 
 
 "Master Kingdon Leonard Eivers Dale, who stands 
 at my side, has learned that I am writing to ' That pret- 
 ty, pretty, pretty lady, whose picture is always on mam- 
 ma's table,' and insists on sending ' tree miU'on kisses ' 
 for his own self." 
 
 Her husband picked up the letter and read it through. 
 
 "What a lot of nonsense you women write to each 
 other!" he ejaculated, with thick voice; and the new 
 baby, over whose little form he leaned, with averted 
 head, Uinked at the drops of water that fell on its tiny 
 face. 
 
 THE END.
 
 A 000 034 087 7