And let the banner be complete.

* * * * *

THE ACTRESS WIFE.

[CONCLUDED.]


After a few moments he arose, and, staggering towards me, grasped my
hand and shook it violently, stuttering out, 'Evelyn Afton is an
angel--that is, your wife, I mean, would have made a greater actress
than Mrs. Siddons. Sefton's a rascal--d----d rascal. You see, Mr. Bell,
I'm not what I was once. The cursed liquor--that's what made me this.
John Foster once held his head as high as anybody. Want, sir, absolute
want, brought me from my "high estate"--_id est_, liquor. Cursed liquor
made me poor, and poverty made me mean.' He continued for some time in a
broken strain, interrupted by hiccoughs and sobs, exhibiting in his
demeanor the remains of former brilliancy, but now everything
impaired--voice, manner, eyesight and intellect--by excessive
indulgence.

The result of my conference was learning that Foster had been the agent
of Sefton in a conspiracy against my wife. Foster had of late years made
a precarious livelihood by occasional engagement on the stages, and a
few weeks since had strayed to this city. Being well known to Sefton,
the latter had promised him ample provision if he would feign illness,
induce my wife to visit him from motives of charity, and subsequently,
when called upon for testimony, allege that her visits were the renewal
of an old licentious intimacy. To these disgraceful propositions