“It is not so much his wealth, poor as I am, that tempts me, as the thought that, being his wife, I should meet Bayard Lorraine again--meet him on equal terms, with a name as proud as his own,” she thought, finding a strange balm for her wounded pride in the prospect. “He despises the poor working girl, they say; but, as his cousin’s wife, he cannot look down on me. I shall meet him in society. I shall meet his haughty bride. And when I am dressed in jewels and satins and laces I shall, perhaps, be as beautiful as she is,” ran the tenor of her thoughts; and she was so young, so innocent, so untaught that she did not know that to marry George Lorraine in such a mood would be deadly sin. What did she know of the sanctity of marriage? Her mother had always railed against it as having been the cause of all her trouble. She kept a little journal, to which alone she confided her girlish, romantic thoughts, and to which the struggles of these days were freely told. It would have brought tears to any eyes to have read there the story of her hopeless love, the tender little verses that flowed from her full heart, and the last entry that was made that night, which ran simply: “I have promised to marry George Lorraine. He is not the rose, but he has lived near it.” Poor Fair--a child in her knowledge of life and the world, a woman in her love--was trying to cheat her heart with a fatal delusion, and one that she paid for most bitterly in the dark days yet to come. But at present she believed that she was doing what was best and right for herself and her mother, and as far as that mother was concerned she would not have permitted her daughter to turn back if she had desired to do so. So it was all settled, and George Lorraine begged that a very early date might be named for the marriage, and Mrs. Fielding seconded the motion. In vain, Fair pleaded that it should not take place until winter. They laughed at her petition, and declared that a month’s time was quite sufficient for her to prepare her simple trousseau. “For you can buy all you want as soon as we are married,” said her lover. Mrs. Fielding thought it was very strange that George Lorraine should be willing for his bride-elect to go on working at the factory after their betrothal. But he made no request that Fair should stop; so things went on much the same as before. She worked all day, and in the afternoon Mr. Lorraine was usually on hand to take her home, creating quite a sensation among the factory girls by his fine clothes and foppish airs, and entirely squelching the pretensions of Waverley Osborne, who, having heard it rumored that Fair was engaged to marry a very rich young man, resigned himself to despair, and talked gloomily to his best friend on the topic of putting an end to a blighted existence by means of pistols or poisons.