venturesome thing to do. How can any one tell what a
stranger may bring in with him?"

CHAPTER IV.

FOR MOTHER'S SAKE.

In the upper chamber where Will had left his sister, a great mystery
of sorrow was being endured. Aspatria felt as if all had been. Life
had no more joy to give, and no greater grief to inflict. She
undressed with rapid, trembling fingers; her wedding finery was
hateful in her sight. On the night before she had folded all her store
of clothing, and laid it ready to put in a trunk. She had been quite
in the dark as to her destiny; the only thing that appeared certain to
her was that she would have to leave home. Perhaps she would go with
Ulfar from the church door. In that case Will would have to send her
clothing, and she had laid it in the neatest order for the emergency.

On the top of one pile lay a crimson Canton crape shawl. Her mother
had worn it constantly during the last year of her life; and Aspatria
had put it away, as something too sacred for ordinary use. She now
folded it around her shoulders, and sat down. Usually, when things
troubled her, she was restless and kept in motion, but this trouble
was too bitter and too great to resist; she was quiet, she took its
blows passively, and they smote her on every side.

Could she ever forget that cruel ride home, ever cease to burn and
shiver when she remembered the eyes that had scanned her during its
progress? The air seemed full of them. She covered her face to avoid
the pitying, wondering, scornful glances. But this ride through the
valley of humiliation was not the bitterest drop in her bitter cup;
she could have smiled as she rode and drank it, if Ulfar had been at
her side. It was his desertion that was so distracting to her. She had
thought of many sorrows in connection with this forced marriage, but
this sorrow had never suggested itself as possible.

Therefore, when Ulfar bade her farewell she had felt as if standing on
the void of the universe. It was the superhuman woman within her that
had answered him, and that had held up her head and had strengthened
her for her part all through that merciless ride. And the sight of her
handsome, faithless lover, the tones of his voice, the touch of his
hand, his half-respectful, half-pitying kindness, had awakened in her
heart a tenfold love for him.

For she understood then, for the first time, her social and
educational inferiority. She felt even that she had done herself less
t