drink. After that, his conscience did not trouble him.

The work on account of which he excused himself from Langdon's society,
was apparently not of the most pressing order, for Sanderson almost
immediately started for Boston, turning his steps towards Mrs. Standish
Tremont's.

"Mrs. Tremont was not at home," the man announced at the door, "and
Mrs. Endicott was confined to her room with a bad headache. Should he
take his card to Miss Moore?"

Sanderson assented, feeling that fate was with him.

"My darling," he said, as Anna came in a moment later, and folded her
close in a long embrace. She was paler than when he had last seen her
and there were dark rings under her eyes that hinted at long night
vigils.

"Lennox," she said, "do not think me weak, but I am terribly
frightened. It does not seem as if we were doing the right thing by
our friends."

"Goosey girl," he said, kissing her, "who was it that said no marriage
ever suited all parties unconcerned?"

She laughed. "I am thinking more of you Lennox, than of myself.
Suppose your father should not forgive you, cut you off without a cent,
and you should have to drudge all your life with mother and me on your
hands! Don't you think you would wish we had never met, or, at least,
that I had thought of these things?"