was deeply felt and proportionately deplored. Mrs. Hazelton now
thought her opportunity had come, and accordingly wrote to Grandison
that she was ready to go to the end of the world with him. He,
however, was not particularly anxious to go to such a remote locality;
in fact he had made up his mind to remain in Chicago, and (now that
his wife was no longer a burden upon him) to turn over a new leaf
and become a respectable member of society. Whatever charms Mary
Sedley may have had had long since disappeared, and Mr. Grandison's
affection was not so deep-seated that he was prepared to tie himself
to a comparatively plain old woman for whom he had long since lost
every particle of respect. He accordingly took no notice of her
letter, and received a second and a third couched in the strongest
language of affection. But the more importunate she became, the more
did Grandison lose his respect for her; he therefore took no notice
of her letters, and determined to keep aloof from her in the future.

When Mrs. Hazelton began to realize that he had deserted her, she
grew frantic indeed. She would not believe it; the letters had
miscarried, or something else had interfered to prevent his writing.
She resolved that, come what would, she would go to him, and,
throwing herself at his feet, demand his protection. In the dead of
the night she collected her most valuable clothing and jewellery, and,
with a little money in her purse, stealthily left her husband's house,
carrying her bundle in her hand. She wandered about the streets till
daylight, and in the morning entered the Grand Trunk Depot in St.
Bonaventure street, and procured a ticket for Chicago. Her husband
at first thought she had merely gone to Bonsecours market to purchase
provisions for the ensuing week, and that she would shortly return.
Breakfast time came, however, and she did not return, and he began
to get uneasy; enquiries were made of neighbors and friends at whose