The temper was all gone now, and the girl’s voice was like a wailing sob as she uttered the name, “My husband,” but it did not touch the mother’s heart or make her one whit sorry for her child. “Where was it? I mean who married you?” she asked; and Heloise replied: “A Mr. Calvert, in New York.” “A dissenter?” was the next question; and Heloise answered: “Yes, I believe so; Abelard did not care who it was, so we were married, and he looked in the Directory and found the name of the Rev. Charles Calvert, and persuaded me to go there. I think he was not preaching anywhere, but he could marry us the same, and he did.” “Without any reference or asking you any questions?” Mrs. Fordham said, and Heloise hesitated a little. She did not like to tell that Abelard had represented her as alone in this country, and had given that as a reason for marrying so young; so she evaded the question, and answered: “The minister was satisfied, only he said I seemed like a child; and one of the ladies present said so, too, and asked how old I was. Abelard told her, ‘older than I looked,’ and that was all they said.” Heloise paused a moment, and then went on: “I have heard since that Mr. Calvert was a half brother of Mrs. Schuyler, who was in the room when we were married, and had little Godfrey with her.” “Mrs. Schuyler saw you married!” Mrs. Fordham exclaimed. “The matter grows worse and worse. Now that Abelard is dead, I hoped it might not be known. You have seen her since,—do you think she recognized you?” “I know she did not. She could not have seen me distinctly that night in New York. She was sick, I think; at all events, she lay upon a couch, and did not get up at all. I know it was Mrs. Schuyler, because the other lady, Mrs. Calvert, called her Emily, and the little boy told Abelard his name was Godfrey Schuyler.” “Have you a certificate of the marriage?” was Mrs. Fordham’s next question, and her daughter replied: “I did have, and kept it in a box Abelard gave me, but I’ve lost it. I had it out the other day with some other papers, and thought I put it back, but must have burned it and substituted for it a receipt which looked like it. Oh, mother! will people think I never was married at all, when they know it?” The girl was crouching at her mother’s feet in such an agony of shame and fear that at first she hardly heard what her mother was saying about there being no need for people to know of the marriage. “Godfrey is too young to remember it, or he would have recognized Abelard,” Mrs. Fordham said; “and it is not likely the two ladies thought enough of you to keep you in mind a week. There is nothing but Abelard’s peculiar name to make any impression. They might remember that.” “No, mother.” And Heloise lifted her head quickly. “His first name was James, and as he liked that the best, he called himself ‘James A. Lyle,’ and it was so written in the certificate.”