rrying Kate Daltrey.

"My son," he said, "if ever you should find yourself a widower, be very
careful how you select your second wife."

These were his parting words--words which chafed me sorely as a young
husband in his honeymoon. I looked round when we were out of the house,
and caught a glimpse of his withered face, and ragged white hair, as he
peeped from behind the curtain at us. Julia and I walked on in silence
till we reached her threshold.

"Yet I am not sorry we went, Martin," she observed, in a tone as if she
thus summed up a discussion with herself. Nor was I sorry.

A few days after our return to London, as I was going home to dinner, I
met, about half-war along Brook Street, Mrs. Foster. For the first time
since my marriage I was glad to be alone; I would not have had Olivia
with me on any account. But the woman was coming away from our house,
and a sudden fear flashed across me. Could she have been annoying my
Olivia?

"Have you been to see me?" I asked her, abruptly.

"Why should I come to see you?" she retorted.

"Nor my wife?" I said.

"Why shouldn't I go to see Mrs. Dobree?" she asked again.

I felt that it was necessary to secure Olivia, and to gain this end I
must be firm. But the poor creature looked miserable and unhappy, and I
could not be harsh toward her.

"Come, Mrs. Foster," I said, "let us talk reasonably together. You know
as as well as I do you have no claim upon my wife; and I cannot have her
disturbed and distressed by seeing you; I wish her to forget all the
past. Did I not fulfil my promise to Foster? Did I not do all I could
for him?"

"Yes," she answered, sobbing, "I know you did all you could to save my
husband's life."

"Without fee?" I said.

"Certainly. We were too poor to pay you."

"Give me my fee now, then," I replied. "Promise me to leave Olivia
alone. Keep away from this street, and do not thrust yourself upon her
at any time. If you meet by accident, that will be no fault of yours. I
can trust you to keep your promise."

She stood silent and irresolute for a minute. Then she clasped my hand,
with a strong grip for a woman's fingers.

"I promise," she said, "for you were very good to him."

She had taken a step or two into the dusk of the evening, when I ran
after her for one more word.

"Mrs. Foster," I said, "are you in want?"

"I can always keep myself," she answered, proudly; "I earned his living
and my own, for months together. Good-by, Martin D