ne shuddered.

"And now, madam," said the man, "what can I do for you? Have you
friends in the city?"

"I am an entire stranger here," replied Mrs. Lane.

"Were you going farther?

"Yes," was answered after some hesitation.

"Where do your friends reside?"

"In New York."

"Ah!"

"This is your child?" was said, after a pause.

"Yes."

There was something in the man's manner, and in the way he looked at
her, that now made Mrs. Lane shrink from, as instinctively as she
had at first leaned towards him. Beneath his steady eye her own
drooped and rested for some moments on the floor.

"Is your husband in New York?" pursued the man.

This question caused the heart of Mrs. Lane to bound with a sudden
throb. Her husband! She had deserted him, her natural and lawful
protector, and already she was encompassed with difficulties and
surrounded by dangers. What would she not at that moment have given
to be safely back in the home she had left? To the last question she
gave a simple affirmative.

"Where do you wish to go when you leave here?" inquired the man, who
had perceived a change in her and understood its nature.

"I wish to be taken to a good hotel, where I can remain a day or
two, until I have time to communicate with my friends. My being out
of money is owing to an inadvertence. I will receive a supply
immediately on writing home."

The man drew his purse from his pocket, and, presenting it, said--

"This is at your service. Take whatever you need."

Mrs. Lane thanked him, but drew back.

"Only get me into some safe place, until I can write to my friends,"
said she, "and you would lay both them and me under the deepest
obligations."

The man arose at this, and stepping into the bar room, desired the
bar-keeper to send for a carriage. From a stand near by one was
called. When it came to the door, he informed Mrs. Lane of the fact,
and asked if she were ready to go.

"Where will you take me?" she asked.

"To the United States Hotel," replied the man. "You could not be in
a safer or better place."

On hearing this, Mrs. Lane arose without hesitation, and, going from
the house, entered the carriage with the man, and was driven away.
Drawing her veil over her face, she shrank into a corner of the
vehicle, and remained in sad communion with her own thoughts for
many minutes. From this state of abstraction, the stopping of the
carriage aroused her. The driver left his seat and opened the door,
when