Penny's knees were shaking under her. She sank into a chair, and
clasping her baby more closely to her breast she read the letter. It was
dated a few days before she and Arthur were married.

"Dear Clara," it ran. "This is the last time I shall write to you.
Unless you stick to the agreement we made, I shall stop sending you
money. Do not try to meet me, and do not mention again our unhappy
marriage--even to me--or I shall shake you off entirely. So use your
common-sense, and keep quiet. You will find that I shall do something
desperate if you keep on annoying me as you have done lately. I tell you
plainly: I will never see you again."

What a moment of agony for the poor stricken wife! There could no longer
he room for doubt. She had indeed been fooled and deceived! Her innate
courage rose and sustained her under the weight of the trial. She would
leave that house--now, once and for all--before her betrayer could
return! Never, never would she look upon his smiling, treacherous face
again!

Animated with fresh strength, she rose and hastily began her
preparations. She fetched the baby's warm wraps from the inner room and
began to dress the child. The other woman looked on in silence--dazed
for the moment by Penny's brisk movements. At last she found a voice.

"What are you doing?" she cried. "Surely you will not take the child out
to-night!"

Penny made no answer, but fetched her own outdoor clothes and dressed
hastily.

"Where are you going, on such a night?" cried the other excitedly.

"Anywhere," answered Penny, her lips white and her eyes flashing.
"Anywhere out of reach of that man."

"No, no!" the woman expostulated. "Wait till morning! I'll see him then
and settle everything."

"What can you settle that can make me stay?" asked Penny, in bitter
wrath. "Do you think that I would spend another night under this roof?
Wait here and see him, if you wish--you have the right to be here, not I!
He will never see me again."

She ran back into her bedroom for the little purse. In it were a few
pounds she had saved up to buy the man an easy chair for his coming
birthday. How often she had pictured his pleasure when he would be able
to lean back comfortably in it on the opposite side of the fireplace and
smoke his evening pipe, his handsome face beaming love and admiration.
The vision filled her with fresh loathing. She scarcely bade the other
woman good-night, but clasping her babe hurried