he would be able to marry her, and take her there to live.

This, she decided, should be her request of the colonel--that he
should help her lover to a place in New York.

Her conclusion was really magnanimous. She might profit by it in the
end, but Ben would be the first beneficiary. It was an act of
self-denial, for she was giving up a definite and certain good for a
future contingency.

She was therefore in a pleasant glow of self-congratulatory mood when
she accidentally overheard a conversation not intended for her ears.
She had run out to the dining-room to speak to the housekeeper about
the refreshments, and was returning through the hall, when she stopped
for a moment to look into the library, where those who did not care to
dance were playing cards.

Beyond the door, with their backs turned toward her, sat two ladies
engaged in conversation. One was a widow, a well-known gossip, and the
other a wife known to be unhappily married. They were no longer young,
and their views were marked by the cynicism of seasoned experience.

"Oh, there's no doubt about it," said the widow. "He came down here to
find a wife. He tried a Yankee wife, and didn't like the breed; and
when he was ready for number two, he came back South."

"He showed good taste," said the other.

"That depends," said the widow, "upon whom he chooses. He can probably
have his pick."

"No doubt," rejoined the married lady, with a touch of sarcasm, which
the widow, who was still under forty, chose to ignore.

"I wonder which is it?" said the widow. "I suppose it's Laura; he
spends a great deal of time there, and she's devoted to his little
boy, or pretends to be."

"Don't fool yourself," replied the other earnestly, and not without a
subdued pleasure in disabusing the widow's mind. "Don't fool yourself,
my dear. A man of his age doesn't marry a woman of Laura Treadwell's.
Believe me, it's the little one."

"But she has a beau. There's that tall nephew of old Mr. Dudley's.
He's been hanging around her for a year or two. He looks very handsome
to-night."

"Ah, well, she'll dispose of him fast enough when the time comes. He's
only a poor stick, the last of a good stock run to seed. Why, she's
been pointedly setting her cap at the colonel all the evening. He's
perfectly infatuated; he has danced with her three times to once with
Laura."

"It's sad to see a man make a fool of himself," sighed the widow, who
was not without some remnants of be