ion that she had never been a wife; he
only thought from her agitation that she possibly was a widow, and
unconsciously to himself the idea was fraught with a vague feeling of
gladness, for, to most men, it is pleasanter knowing they have been
polite to a pretty girl, or even a pretty widow, than to a wife, whose
lord might object, and Irving was not an exception. Was she a widow, and
had he unwittingly touched the half-healed wound? He wished he knew, and
he stood waiting for her answer to his question, "You have a husband?"

At a glance Adah had read the name upon the card, knowing now who had
befriended her. It was Irving Stanley, Augusta's brother, second cousin
to Hugh, and 'Lina was with his sister in New York. He was going there,
he might speak of her, and if she told her name, her miserable story
would be known to more than it was already. It was a false pride which
kept Adah silent when she knew that Irving Stanley was waiting for her
to speak, wondering at her agitated manner. He was looking at her eyes,
her large brown eyes, which dared not meet his, and as he looked a
terrible suspicion crept over him. Involuntarily he felt for her third
finger. It was ringless, and he dropped it suddenly, but with a feeling
that he might be unjust, that all were not of his church and creed, he
took it again, and said his parting words. Then, turning to Willie, he
smoothed the silken curls, praised the beauty of the sleeping child, and
left the room.

Adah knew that he was gone, that she should not see him again, and that,
at the very last, there had arisen some misunderstanding, she hardly
knew what, for the shock of finding who he was had prevented her from
fully comprehending the fact that he had asked her for her husband. She
never dreamed of the suspicion which, for an instant, had a lodgment in
his breast, or she would almost have died where she stood, gazing at the
door through which he had disappeared.

"I ought to have told him my name, but I could not," she sighed, as the
sound of his rapid footsteps died upon the stairs.

They ceased at last, and with a feeling of utter desolation, as if she
were now indeed alone, Adah sank upon her knees, and covering her face
with her hands, wept bitterly. Anon, however, holier, calmer feelings
swept over her. She was not alone. They who love God can never be alone,
however black the darkness be around them. And Adah did love Him,
thanking Him at last for raising her up this