haps I
cannot meet it with quite the fortitude of a man."

"Can I help you in any way?" the gentleman asked, eagerly. "Come into the
little reception-parlor yonder--there is no one there--and confide in me,
if you will honor me so far."

The fair widow took the arm he offered her, and he led her within the
room, and shut the door.

"Sit here," he said, placing a comfortable rocker for her, then he sat
opposite her, and waited for her to open her heart to him.

"You know," she began, falteringly, "that I have lost my husband; he died
several months ago, and there has been some trouble about the settlement
of his estate.

"His relatives contested the will, but my lawyer has always assured me
that he could at least secure a handsome amount for me, even if he could
not win the whole. But the first of this week, I learned that I am to
have almost nothing--that there was not nearly as much as at first
supposed, and Mr. Bently's relatives will get that: and so--I am
penniless."

"Oh, not so badly off as that, I hope!" exclaimed Mr. Cutler, looking
grave.

"It is true. My lawyer's charges will take every dollar that is coming to
me, and--oh! it is humiliating to tell you of it--I owe a great deal of
money here at this hotel, besides. I never dreamed," she went on,
hurriedly, and flushing hotly again, "but that I could pay my bills. I
thought that I should have a large fortune, and I--I am afraid that I
have been very extravagant: but now--I do not know _what_ I shall do."

Mr. Cutler saw that she was in a very perplexing situation, and she
seemed so crushed by it that all his tenderest sympathies were enlisted.

"If you would allow me to lend you any amount," he began, when the widow
showed him the first burst of temper that he had ever seen her exhibit.

"Sir, do you suppose I would _borrow_ what I could never expect to pay?"
she cried, with almost passionate scorn, and flushing to her temples.

"I beg your pardon," Justin Cutler returned, feeling almost as if he had
been guilty of an inexcusable insult; "believe me, I would not wish to
put you under any obligation that would be burdensome."

Then he asked himself if it would be safe for him to tell her of his love
then and there, lay his fortune at her feet, and thus relieve her from
her present trouble and all anxiety for the future.

But he feared she might resent the offer, coming at such a time--think it
was prompted more by pity than affection, and reject