Again the poor child picked up the cruel letter; but she could not read a line of it, though she sat looking at the written page.

"Not his wife!" she moaned over and over again, clutching her little hands over her heart.

With a sudden frenzy she tore the letter into a thousand shreds, and flung the pieces from her through the open window.

Would her poor, sick mother's heart break when she told her all? When she went home, would they force her to marry the terrible being she abhorred?

Home! Ah, God! what a mockery! She had only a shelter. If she refused to marry the horrible hunchback, her mother and herself would not even have that.

[38]

How could she face the future? The very thought of it made the blood chill in her veins.

"Oh, Royal! Royal! death from your hands would have been easier than that!" she moaned.

The next moment there was a heavy fall, and one of the house-maids, passing the parlor, saw the girl lying in a heap.

They did all in their power to restore her to consciousness; but it was quite useless. When they had worked an hour over her, they became alarmed.

Where was her husband? Why did he not return? The hotel physician did all in his power, but without avail.

"It looks like a case of brain fever," he said, "or perhaps typhoid. Either is contagious, therefore dangerous. I should advise that she be sent to the hospital around the corner."

"That husband of hers has not settled his bill!" exclaimed the proprietor, his face darkening angrily.

"It is my opinion," said the doctor, "that it is best not to await the return of the young gentleman who accompanied her here. In short, it is my opinion that he has deserted her."

In less time than it takes to tell it, poor, hapless Ida May, the victim of such a cruel misfortune, and a sadder fate yet to follow, was taken to the hospital. The waning summer days drifted slowly by, and autumn came with its dead, rustling leaves and sobbing winds, before Ida May opened her eyes to consciousness and turned them full upon the white-capped............