eing in truth torn in two directions. Then she sat herself down to her
desk, and with rapid words, and flashing thoughts, wrote as follows:--

PAUL MONTAGUE,--

I have suffered many injuries, but of all injuries this is the
worst and most unpardonable,--and the most unmanly. Surely there
never was such a coward, never so false a liar. The poor wretch
that I destroyed was mad with liquor and was only acting after
his kind. Even Caradoc Hurtle never premeditated such wrong as
this. What you are to bind yourself to me by the most solemn
obligation that can join a man and a woman together, and then
tell me,--when they have affected my whole life,--that they are
to go for nothing, because they do not suit your view of things?
On thinking over it, you find that an American wife would not
make you so comfortable as some English girl;--and therefore it
is all to go for nothing! I have no brother, no man near;--me or
you would not dare to do this. You can not but be a coward.

You talk of compensation! Do you mean money? You do not dare to
say so, but you must mean it. It is an insult the more. But as
to retribution; yes. You shall suffer retribution. I desire you
to come to me,--according to your promise,--and you will find me
with a horsewhip in my hand. I will whip you till I have not a
breath in my body. And then I will see what you will dare to
do;--whether you will drag me into a court of law for the
assault.

Yes; come. You shall come. And now you know the welcome you
shall find. I will buy the whip while this is reaching you, and
you shall find that I know how to choose such a weapon. I call
upon you so come. But should you be afraid and break your
promise, I will come to you. I will make London too hot to hold
you;--and if I do not find you I will go with my story to every
friend you have.

I have now told you as exactly as I can the condition of my
mind.

WINIFRED HURTLE.

Having written this she again read the short note, and again gave way
to violent tears. But on that day she sent no letter. On the following
morning she wrote a third, and sent that. This was the third letter:--

'Yes. Come.
W. H.'

This letter duly reached Paul Montague at his lodgings. He started
immediately for Islington. He had now no desire to delay the meeting.
He had at any rate taught her that his gentleness towards her, his