discharge her, but a summer trip to Portland being then on the tapis,
she allowed her to have her own way, as Mr. D'Alton remained in
Montreal, and would naturally expect letters from his wife during
her absence. She would have dismissed the governess and engaged
another, trusting to her own pleadings and the powerful appeals of
her purse to win her over, but the handwriting would not be the same,
and she would not for worlds have allowed her husband to think she
had deceived him.

The day came for their departure for Orchard Beach, where Mr. D'Alton
had taken a cottage for their use. The children were in great glee
as they anticipated surf bathing and digging in the sand, but
Mrs. D'Alton was moody and down-hearted, the exhilarating
effects of a large potion of brandy having worn off and a reaction
set in; her husband, however, attributed it to sorrow at her
separation from him, and was rather gratified to think she was so
deeply affected.

They arrived at her destination in due course, and were comfortably
ensconced in the cosy little cottage. Miss Watson, the governess,
dressed herself up, and with the children departed for the promenade,
and Mrs. D'Alton was left to her own reflections. The thought of her
past career, of the opportunities gone for ever, and lastly of the
predicament she was now in, shunned by all respectable people, and
despised by her own paid servant, who felt her power, and was
disposed to wield it unmercifully. The brandy-bottle, her
never-failing companion, was by her side, and as she mused mopingly
over her sins, she took from time to time copious draughts of the
potent spirits, regardless of its power to do otherwise than to rob
her of these racking memories of the past. In about two hours the