You see to what abuse my circumstances subject me."

"Would to God my circumstances were such as to render you that
assistance you so much need; would that I could raise you from such
unendurable misery! But to speak without equivocation, my condition is
as penniless as your own."

"Then you can, indeed, sympathize with my distress."

"Most sincerely; but you must not go alone in quest of that villainous
husband;--and money will be necessary."

"This harp will--"

"Oh, no--you can never part with it."

"I must."

"Then let it be but temporarily. There is a pawnbroker's shop on the
next square, there we can redeem it--if you can for a time endure to
have it removed from your sight."

"No matter," said my heroine, undauntedly, "a wronged woman can endure
anything when she is in pursuit of vengeance. The weather is delicious;
we will travel leisurely, and have a very pleasant time. Should our
money become exhausted, we will solicit the hospitality of the good old
Pennsylvania farmers, who are renowned for their kindness to travellers,
and who will not refuse a bite and a sup, or a night's shelter, to two
poor wanderers. If you refuse to accompany me, I will go alone."

"I will go with you to the end of the earth!" I exclaimed, with
enthusiasm, for I could not help admiring the noble courage of that
beautiful woman, whose splendid countenance now glowed with all the
animation of anticipated vengeance.

She pressed my hand warmly, in acknowledgement of my devotion; and then,
having put on her bonnet and shawl, she announced herself as being in
readiness to set out.

"I have no valuables of any kind," said she, "and the landlady is
welcome to this furniture, which will discharge my indebtedness to her.
I shall return to this house no more."

I shouldered the harp, and we left the house without encountering the
amiable landlady.

To reach the nearest pawnbroker's, it was necessary to pass through one
of the principal streets. To my dismay a crowd of actors, reporters and
others were assembled upon the steps of a hotel. The rascals spied me
out before I could cross over; and so, putting on as bold a front as
possible, I walked on pretending not to notice them, while a "running
commentary," something like the following, was kept up until I was out
of hearing:

"_Stag his knibbs_,"[H] said the "heavy man" of the Arch street theatre.

"Thompson, give us a tune!" bawled out a miserable wretch of a light
comedian