For long hours after the doctor had left Ida May, she wept so bitterly over the fate of her little child that Miss Fernly grew alarmed.

"Crying will not bring the baby back," she said. "The Almighty knew best whether He wanted it to live or die. You must not rail against the judgment of God!"

[108]

She felt that she must draw her mind into another channel.

"Say that you will be more composed when I see you again," she replied, earnestly, "though it may not be for some days."

"I will try," murmured Ida May, with a sigh. "Will it be long before I see you?" she added, wistfully.

"I am going to my niece's wedding," answered Miss Fernly. "I may remain a few days after at the house."

Ida May drew a long, deep sob.

"How strange the word 'marriage' sounds to me now," she moaned. "When I hear of a young girl's marriage nowadays, I earnestly pray Heaven that her husband may not deceive her!"

"I am sure that there need be nothing to fear in this instance," said Miss Fernly. "My niece sent me her fiancé's picture this morning. He seems to be a noble young fellow. By the way, I will show it to you," she added, still believing that the one thing needful was to divert the girl's mind.

Thoughtless as to what would accrue from her action, Miss Fernly drew a small case from her pocket and touched the spring.

The lid flew back, disclosing a magnificent affair in ivory—the portrait of a young and handsome man.

"He has an honest look in his eyes, and a fair, open countenance," said Miss Fernly. "It was painted three years ago."

As she uttered the words, she handed the portrait to Ida May.

One glance, then a cry of the wildest horror broke from the girl's white, terrified lips.

"God have mercy!" she gasped, "it is he!"

Miss Fernly sprung to her feet, quite as white and terrified as Ida.

"You—you do not mean to say that this is the man who wrought all your woe?" she cried, in horror too great for words.

"Yes!" cried Ida May, springing to her feet, and[109] crying out: "I swear to you that this is Royal Ainsley, the man whom I wedded, and who deserted me! This is the father of my little dead babe!"

The expression upon Miss Fernly's face was horrible to see.

She rose in awful wrath and struck her hands sharply together as she turned and faced the girl.

"It was fate that sent you across my path," she exclaimed, hoarsely. "But for this timely intervention my innocent niece would have wedded that villain on the morrow. But I thank Heaven that I am now able to prevent it, and to avenge you as well, my poor child. Ah!" she cried, as a sudden thought flashed through her mind, "an idea has come to me, by which I can not only wreak my vengeance upon him, but mete out justice to you as well."

"Oh, no, no; do not do anything to harm him!" cried Ida May, in terror. "Cruel as he has been to me, I love him still, and I shall always love him!"

"What I intend to do will not harm him. I repeat that it will right your wrong," she added, grimly. "There shall be a wedding to-morrow, my poor, unfortunate girl. But listen to me well, and heed what I say—you shall be this man's bride to-morrow, instead of my niece. Leave everything to me."

She gathered up her wrap and gloves and put them on.

"I shall have a great deal to do between now and nightfall. But this I say to you, Ida May: Be ready to go with me when I shall come for you. It may be to-night, perhaps to-morrow night. Ask me no............