"Yes; where she goes, I must follow," repeated Eugene Mallard, in a voice husky with emotion, "for she is my wife!"

The words fell upon Hildegarde's ears with a dreadful shock. It was not until then that she realized her lover was separated from her.

She saw him take Ida May's hand and lead her slowly out of the house.

[127]

In the years that followed she wondered that the sight did not kill her.

When the door closed after them, Hildegarde stood for a moment stunned, with a white, awful pallor on her face.

Miss Fernly watched her in silence.

Was Hildegarde going mad? If she would only cry out, utter some word. But no; only that awful silence. "Hildegarde," said Miss Fernly, approaching her tremblingly, "what can I say, what can I do, to repair the terrible wrong I have done you?"

"The only thing you can do is to kill me," answered the girl, in a hoarse, unnatural voice.

"Oh, my niece! my precious niece, do not say that!" replied Miss Fernly, beside herself with grief. "You will break my heart!"

"Yours is not the only one that will be broken," returned Hildegarde.

Miss Fernly attempted to approach her, but Hildegarde drew back in loathing.

"Do not come near me!" she cried, with flashing eyes, "lest I forget who you are, and strike you dead at my feet!"

With a quick motion, Hildegarde turned, and without another word, flew up the staircase and up to her own boudoir, and closed the door securely after her.

"Let me realize it," she murmured. "A few hours ago I was the happiest girl the world held; now I cry out to Heaven to end my life."

She crept up to the mirror, and she stood before it, tall, slender, and erect in the dignity of her own despair, her face white, her dark eyes dark with sorrow.

"Can that be me?" she murmured, crossing her hands over her breast. But the figure reflected gave back no answer.

"He has gone out of my life. What am I to do?" she murmured. "One can never be sure of anything in this world. He left me only a few hours ago, and there was nothing between us but love. I can not believe[128] it! It is some awful dream from which I shall presently awake!"

She wrung her hands wildly; she tore her beautiful dark hair; she was as one mad with anguish. Then she thought of Ida May, and she clinched her hands.

Some one knocked at the............