"They had gone a little into debt, in order to eke out their little ready money until the longed-for letters of credit should come from England; but at the end of six months credit and cash were nearly exhausted. "One morning in May the boy-husband took leave of the girl-wife, saying, as he kissed her good-by, that he was going down into the city to see if he could get some work to do. "Without the least misgiving, she received his farewell kiss, and saw him depart--watched him all the way down the street, until he got to Second Avenue and boarded a down-town car. "Then she re-entered the little gate, and began to tend the jonquils and hyacinths that were just coming into bloom in her little flower garden. She did not expect to see him until night, nor--did she see him even then. When the little gate opened at eight o'clock and a man came up the walk leading to the front door at which she stood, he was not her husband, but the letter carrier, who put a letter in her hand and went away. "She ran into the house, and lighted the gas to read her letter. Though it gave her a shock, it did not shake her faith in her boy. "The letter told her, in effect, that Alfred Whyte, when he left her that morning, had started to go to England in the only way by which he could get there--that is, by working his passage as a deck hand on board an outward bound ship; that he had decided on this course so as to get a personal interview with his father, to whom he would go as a penitent prodigal son; for he was sure of obtaining by this means forgiveness, and assistance that would enable him to return and bring his little wife back to England, where they would thenceforth live in comfort and luxury; that the reason he had not confided to her his intention of making the voyage was because he dreaded opposition from her that might have led him to abandon the one plan by which he hoped to better their condition. "He concluded by entreating her not to think for one instant that he intended to desert her, who was dearer to him than his own life, but to trust in him as he trusted in her. In a postscript he told her where to find the small balance of money they had left, as he had only taken enough for his car fare to the city. In a second postscript he promised to write by every opportunity. In a third and last postscript he begged her to keep up her heart. "It seemed a frank letter, yet it was reticent upon one point--the name of the ship on which he had sailed. This omission might have been accidental. It certainly did not raise any doubt of the boy's good faith in the mind of the girl. "She cried a great deal over the separation from her lad, and she made a confidant of the elderly Irishwoman who was her sole servant.