Thus spoke her trembling heart, but her voice was quiet and restrained as
she said in reply:

"I do not see how it affects you that Arthur Spence is my husband, and
this is our child."

The simple dignity with which she spoke and her apparent calmness seemed
to soften the woman and still her anger somewhat. Drawing nearer, she
laid her hand with something of gentleness upon Penny's arm, and tears
started to her eyes as she exclaimed:

"My dear, the man's a scoundrel! You are no wife of his. He married me
when he was a stripling of eighteen, and he cast me off in less than a
year. He ruined me, and now he's ruined you--poor dear!"

"It's false, it's false!" cried Penny with fierce eyes and glowing color.
"You certainly know nothing of my husband. You'll never turn me against
him with your wicked lies! He's good and true--I'm sure of it, say what
you like!"

"I only wish you were right, my dear," replied the other, evidently
softened by Penny's unshaken fidelity. "But God knows I'm speaking the
truth; for here is the proof."

She drew from her pocket a folded paper and held it open before Penny's
eyes.

It was a marriage certificate. It described Arthur Spence as wedded to
Clara Millar, and the date was twelve years ago. The shock, though
intense, was merely momentary. So strong was Penny's trust in her