"I'm so glad you're here," she said feebly; "but I can't bear to have you think that I am all bad." And then in whispered, halting words, with many a break and pause, she told her story; a story all too common. And Amy, listening with white horror-stricken face, guessed that which Mother Gray could not know, and which the sufferer tried to conceal, the name of her betrayer. "And so we were married in secret, or I thought we were," she concluded. "I know now that it was only a farce. He came to visit me twice after the sham ceremony that betrayed me, and I never saw him again until last night. Oh God, forgive him; forgive him, I--I loved him so." The poor wronged creature burst into a fit of passionate sobbing that could not be controlled. In vain did Mother Gray try to soothe her. It was of no use. Until at last, exhausted, she sank again into a stupor, from which she roused only once near morning, and then she whispered simply, "Good-bye Mother; Goodbye Miss Amy. Don't let father know." And just as the day dawned in all its glory, her soul, pure and unstained as that of her babe, took its flight, and the smile of innocent girlhood was upon her lips. When Amy reached home early in the forenoon, she met her brother in the hallway, just going out. "You look like you'd been making a night of it," he said, with a contemptuous sneer. "Been consoling some wanderer I suppose." The young woman made no reply, but stood with her back to the door, her eyes fixed on his face. "Well, get out of my way," he said roughly; "can't you see I want to go out?" Amy spoke--"I have been at the Institution all night. Kate Cushman and the baby are both dead. Go look at your work." Frank started as though she had struck him; and then as she stepped aside, he fairly ran from the house as though in fear of his life. CHAPTER XXIX In the little country village of Anderson, where the southern branch of the "Memphis" joins the main line, a group of excited citizens were standing in front of the doctor's office. "You're right sure it's small-pox, are you, Doc?" "There's no doubt of it," answered the physician. "Who is he?" "He won't tell his name, but Jack Lane says it's Frank Goodrich. He came in day before yesterday on the 'Memphis,' from Boyd City, where they have just lost a case or two of the worst form." An angry murmur arose from the little group of men. "What you goin' to do, Doc?" asked the spokesman. "I've sent to Pleasantville for that nigger who has had the disease, and he'll be in as soon as he can get here. We must find some place out of town for the fellow to stay, and let old Jake take care of him." Jim Boles spoke up. "Thar's a cabin on my west forty, that's in purty good shape. A couple of us could fix her up in an hour or two; it's way back from the road, a good bit over a mile I reckon--in heavy timber too."