r
being sentenced." Mr. Anson's florid face grew grave. "It happened that
her Counsel was a nephew of mine, and I promised to hear him handle the
case. But, of course, it was hopeless from the start."

"The husband--this chap Herrick--was blameless, I suppose?"

"Quite. He knew nothing about it, though the girl tried her hardest to
implicate him. He did his best, too, would have sworn anything to clear
her and take the blame, but her lies were all so dreadfully patent it
was no use. In the end she told the truth, thinking it would help her;
but it was too late then."

"She took it badly?"

"Terribly. She cried and shrieked for mercy, fought like a tiger with
the officials who tried to take her away, and screamed reproaches at her
husband, till everyone was sick of the scene. Of course, she never
dreamed they would send her--a lady, and a delicate bit of a girl,
too--to prison like a common thief, and she completely lost her
self-control when she realized what was going to happen. It was a relief
to everyone when she gave one last cry and fainted right away."

"Hard lines on the husband," said Owen, reflectively.

"Deuced hard lines--and he as decent a fellow as ever stepped. Why he
ever married her, God only knows. She didn't care a bit for him--wasted
his money and then reviled him because he'd no more. Of course, she came
of a rotten stock--wasters and gamblers every one--and this was how the
hereditary taint came out in her."

"She must have served most of her sentence by now?"

"Comes out next week. I wonder what he will do with her. She's not the
sort of woman to live in a shanty by the riverside, and yet he can't
very well bring her back to town."

"I wonder?" Owen glanced at his watch. "I say, Anson, I don't want to be
rude--after our excellent lunch!--but I've an appointment at the office
at three and it's a quarter to now."

"All right, my boy, I won't detain you." Anson rose at once. "I'm glad
you keep an eye on the _Bridge_--it's a fine little review and going
ahead all the time."

Owen's face brightened at this authoritative praise.

"I'm glad you think go. Of course, we are jolly lucky in our staff, and
we've got the best sort of contributors, too."

"Yes. By the way, how on earth have you managed to get all this stuff
turned out with a disabled arm?" He patted the thick packet of
manuscript and glanced at Owen's inconspicuous sling wonderingly.
"Perhaps Mrs. Rose helped you?" He looked, wit