ifteen, leaving her in the charge of
her step-mother, Richard Foster's aunt. The match was one of the
stepmother's making, for Olivia was little better than a child. Richard
was glad enough to get her fortune, or rather the income from it, for of
course she did not come into full possession of it till she was of age.
One-third of it was settled upon her absolutely; the other two-thirds
came to her for her to do what she pleased with it. Richard was looking
forward eagerly to her being one-and-twenty, for he had made ducks and
drakes of his own property, and tried to do the same with mine. He would
have done so with his wife's; but a few weeks before Olivia's
twenty-first birthday, she disappeared mysteriously. There her fortune
lies, and Richard has no more power than I have to touch it. He cannot
even claim the money lying in the Bank of Australia, which has been
remitted by her trustees; nor can Olivia claim it without making
herself known to him. It is accumulating there, while both of them are
on the verge of poverty."

"But he must have been very cruel to her before she would run away!"
said my mother in a very pitiful voice. Poor mother! she had borne her
own sorrows dumbly, and to leave her husband had probably never occurred
to her.

"Cruel!" repeated Kate Daltrey. "Well, there are many kinds of cruelty.
I do not suppose Richard would ever transgress the limits of the law.
But Olivia was one of those girls who can suffer great torture--mental
torture I mean. Even I could not live in the same house with him, and
she was a dreamy, sensitive, romantic child, with as much knowledge of
the world as a baby. I was astonished to hear she had had daring enough
to leave him."

"But there must be some protection for her from the law," I said,
thinking of the bold, coarse woman, no doubt his associate, who was in
pursuit of Olivia. "She might sue for a judicial separation, at the
least, if not a divorce."

"I am quite sure nothing could be brought against him in a court of
law," she answered. "He is very wary and cunning, and knows very well
what he may do and what he may not do. A few months before Olivia's
flight, he introduced a woman as her companion--a disreputable woman
probably; but he calls her his cousin, and I do not know how Olivia
could prove her an unfit person to be with her. Our suspicions may be
very strong, but suspicion is not enough for an English judge and jury.
Since I saw her this morning I have b