"Iris, you have been trouble enough to me, and I won't be dogged in this
way."

"Dogged! Has not a wife a right to be with her husband?"

"Confound it, no! I will call on you to-night and have this matter
settled--settled forever."

Then he wheeled his carriage and drove away. The woman, with veil down,
remained standing at the gate for some time, watching the retreating
carriage.

And the Yankee leaned against the trunk of a tree near, seemingly intent
on watching a flock of sparrows near the gutter.

"It looks suspicious, anyhow," muttered the Yankee. "It would be strange
enough if I should run upon Andrew Barkswell here--funny, indeed."

And the woman?

Her voice was suffused with tears as she murmured:

"Andrew, Andrew, how can you treat me so? I have sold my soul for your
love, and now--now this is my reward! I feel that I shall die, yes, die,
or--or go mad!"

She clasped her hands tightly, breathed hoarsely for a moment, then
turned and reeled to the house. With a key she opened the door and
entered; which fact convinced the Yankee that she was alone.