ry out, make a scene, or get
hysterical. It's my opinion that the man you are waiting for don't
intend to come back."

He saw the words strike her as lightning strikes and blasts a fair
flower. A terrible shiver ran through the young girl, then she stood
still, as though turned to stone, her face overspread with the pallor of
death.

The policeman was used to all phases of human nature. He saw that this
girl's grief was genuine, and felt sorry for her.

"Surely you have a home, friends, here somewhere?" he asked.

Bernardine shook her head, sobbing piteously.

"I lived in the tenement house on Canal Street that has just been burned
down. My father perished in it, leaving me alone in the world--homeless,
shelterless--and--and this man asked me to marry him, and--and I--did."

The policeman was convinced more than ever by her story that some _roue_
had taken advantage of the girl's pitiful situation to lead her astray.

"That's bad. But surely you have friends _somewhere_?"

Again Bernardine shook her head, replying, forlornly:

"Not one on earth. Papa and I lived only for each other."

The policeman looked down thoughtfully for a moment. He said to himself
that he ought to try to save her from the fate which he was certain lay
before her.

"I suppose he left you without a cent, the scoundrel?" he queried,
brusquely.

"Oh, don't speak of him harshly!" cried Bernardine, distressedly. "I am
sure something has happened to prevent his coming. He left his
pocket-book with me, and there is considerable money in it."

"Ah! the scoundrel had a little more heart than I gave him credit for,"
thought the policeman.

He did not take the trouble to ask the name of the man whom she believed
had wedded her, being certain that he had given a fictitious one to her.

"There is a boarding-house just two blocks from here, that I would
advise you to go to for the night, at least, young lady," he said, "and
if he comes I will send him around there. I can not miss him if he
comes, for I will be on this beat, pacing up and down, until seven
o'clock to-morrow morning. See, the rain has commenced to come down
pretty hard. Come!"

There was nothing else to do but accept the kind policeman's suggestion.
As it was, by the time she reached the house to which he good-naturedly
piloted her, the fierce storm was raging in earnest.

He spoke a few words, which Bernardine could not catch, to the
white-haired, benevolent-looking lady wh