man away without arousing his opposition.

Five minutes afterward, as Mrs. Whitford sat in her carriage at the
door of Mr. Birtwell's palace home, her son was pushed in, half
resisting, by two waiters, so drunk that his wretched mother had to
support him with her arm all the way home. Is it any wonder that in
her aching heart the mother cried out, "Oh, that he had died a baby
on my breast"?






CHAPTER XI.





AMONG the guests at Mr. and Mrs. Birtwell's was an officer holding a
high rank in the army, named Abercrombie. He had married, many years
before, a lady of fine accomplishments and rare culture who was
connected with one of the oldest families in New York. Her
grandfather on her mother's side had distinguished himself as an
officer in the Revolutionary war; and on her father's side she could
count statesmen and lawyers whose names were prominent in the early
history of our country.

General Abercrombie while a young man had fallen into the vice of