distinguished from the way of
savagely sneering insult he usually took with her. He expected no
reply. She surprised him. She lifted her tragic eyes and looked
fixedly at him. She said:

"Yes, I'll go. And I'll marry him if I can."

"I told him he could have you," said Presbury. "I explained to him
that you were a rare specimen of the perfect lady--just what he
wanted--and that you, and all your family, would be grateful to anybody
who would undertake your support."

Mrs. Presbury flushed angrily. "You've made it perfectly useless for
her to go!" she cried.

"Calm yourself, my love," said her husband. "I know Bill Siddall
thoroughly. I said what would help. I want to get rid of her as much
as you do--and that's saying a great deal."

Mrs. Presbury flamed with the wrath of those who are justly accused.
"If Mildred left, I should go, too," cried she.

"Go where?" inquired her husband. "To the poorhouse?"

By persistent rubbing in Presbury had succeeded in making the truth
about her poverty and dependence clear to his wife. She continued to
frown and to look unutterable contempt, but he had silenced her. He
noted this with a sort of satisfaction and went on:

"If Bill Siddall takes her, you certainly won't go there. He wouldn't
have you. He feels strongly on the subject of mothers-in-law."

"Has he been married before?" asked Mrs. Presbury.

"Twice," replied her husband. "His first wife died. He divorced the
second for unfaithfulness."

Mildred saw in this painstaking recital of all the disagreeable and
repellent facts about Siddall an effort further to humiliate her by
making it apparent how desperately off she was, how she could not
refuse any offer, revolting though it might be to her pride and to her
womanly instincts. Doubtless this was in part the explanation of
Presbury's malicious candor. But an element in that candor was a
prudent preparing of the girl's mind for worse than the reality. That
he was in earnest in his profession of a desire to bring about the
match showed when he proposed that they should take rooms at a hotel in
New York, to give her a chance to dress properly for the dinner. True,
he hastened to say that the expense must be met altogether out of the
remnant of Mildred's share of her father's estate, but the idea would
not have occurred to him had he not been really planning a marriage.

Never had Mildred looked more beautiful or more attractive than when
the three