"For goodness sake, Clara, do not tantalize me so unmercifully. I tell
you that I have decided upon going to Canada, _and I shall go_. That
country offers advantages unknown to England. Better hazard an adventure
than remain forever riveted to hard labor here, and then die at last in
the harness. Were I to marry you now I have no home but my father's to
which I could remove you; better then to remain where you are,
unmarried, than otherwise, for, I feel certain that Collins would turn
you out as soon as he had discovered that I had both married and left
you. But let me tell you but once and forever that I intend to become a
husband to you as soon as I can find it convenient to procure a
comfortable home."

"The old story again," ejaculated Clara, "and let me tell you, Fred,
that if you go to Canada you will never make your circumstances
convenient to fulfil your promise--no, never, never, Fred."

"I don't want to hear any more of such botheration," retorted Fred,
irritably; and springing up from his seat, made his exit abruptly,
leaving Clara to sigh out alone the sorrows of her heart in the solitude
of her own reflections.

Mr. Collins, as I said before was a man possessed of a degraded nature,
being much addicted to intemperance. Widow Hazledon had married him
after a brief acquaintance. She had felt the necessity of a fatherly
assistance and protection in the rearing of her young family; but in
Collins she discovered when too late that she had mistaken his
character. She, however, continued to make the best of a bad bargain. He
was a carver by trade, and commanded good wages; but every Saturday
night, he got drunk. His Sabbaths were generally devoted to the worship