one whom she really loved from a life, to which it
made her shudder to look forward, and she freely and earnestly
answered.

"Think no more of one, who, if you were to become his wife, would make
your life, beyond all expression, miserable."

Little Wolf laid her hand quickly on that of her friend and looking
straight into her eyes said vehemently, "I cannot, no, I cannot do
that, could you?"

"Could I, rather, did I," said Mrs. Tinknor, drawing a long breath, "I
had not the decision that marks your character, darling, and
consequently am a drunkard's wife."

Mrs. Tinknor's voice fell very low, as she repeated the last words,
and Little Wolf involuntarily clasped more closely the hand on which
she had laid her own.

"You are not, really, what you called yourself, Mrs. Tinknor," she
whispered, "nobody calls Squire Tinknor that, oh, do not talk so."

"I do not like to say it my dear, and I never said it before, but for
your sake I lay open the hidden part of my life, and after you have
heard me through I shall never give another word of advice as to your
future course."

"I was just of your age, darling, and about to be married when an
intimate friend said to me," "I'm afraid Mr. Tinknor is fond of drink,
I saw him go into one of those drinking saloons." I answered
carelessly; for I did not wish her to know that she had made me
anxious; but that evening I repeated her words to my lover. He made
light of it, and said a friend invited him to drink and he did not
like to refuse; that he might be a man among men, that there was no
danger, he could stop when he pleased, he only drank socially, never
for the love of it.

"But my fears were aroused and I begged him with tears, to give up
social drinking all together, and he finally appeared hurt, and
finally asked me if I could not trust him, and I said yes; for he was
so noble, so full of warm affection, that I was sure I could win him
from those habits, which threatened to darken our sky. I ventured
forth on a dangerous sea, and clouds and storms have been my portion.

"Spite of all you love him, and he loves you," Little Wolf ventured to
say, "and while there is love there is hope, and some little comfort;
life is not entirely aimless and barren."

Mrs. Tinknor so pitied Little Wolf, who had so bravely risen above all
the misfortunes to which her young life had been subjected, only to
sacrifice herself to a most unfortunate attachment, that, for the
moment, she