Shortly after Grandison’s departure for Chicago I was summoned to attend Mrs. Hazelton, who gave birth to a fine boy. Mr. Hazelton was in ecstasy at the thought of becoming a father; he gave a grand entertainment on the occasion of the child’s christening, and when the guests all agreed that the child had “its father’s nose” (which was doubtless the truth) the poor man’s delight knew no bounds. Mrs. Hazelton gradually began to be more cheerful, and to try in some measure to make amends to her husband for the wrong which could never be repaired. When, however, he carried her baby up and down, or fondled it upon his knee, the bitter pangs of remorse gnawed at her heart, and made her captious and bad tempered. With all this there was no deep repentance, and when Grandison came to Montreal for his holidays, her husband was completely forgotten once more. Grandison was invited to stay at the Hazeltons’ residence, an invitation which to do him justice he endeavored to decline, but Mr. Hazelton pressed him so strongly that he was afraid to awaken suspicion by refusing, and so the wolf became ensconced snugly in the sheepfold, not only without difficulty, but on the pressing invitation of its occupants. Mrs. Hazelton during this visit urged Grandison so strongly that he promised to elope with her so soon as he could conveniently leave Chicago. He had not been long back at his new residence when his wife died, and letters of condolence were sent to him from all quarters. His wife, who had never been received into society, was suddenly discovered to have been one of its brightest ornaments, and her loss was deeply felt and proportionately deplored. Mrs. Hazelton now thought her opportunity had come, and accordingly wrote to Grandison that she was ready to go to the end of the world with him. He, however, was not particularly anxious to go to such a remote locality; in fact he had made up his mind to remain in Chicago, and (now that his wife was no longer a burden upon him) to turn over a new leaf and become a respectable member of society. Whatever charms Mary Sedley may have had had long since disappeared, and Mr. Grandison’s affection was not so deep-seated that he was prepared to tie himself to a comparatively plain old woman for whom he had long since lost every particle of respect. He accordingly took no notice of her letter, and received a second and a third couched in the strongest language of affection. But the more importunate she became, the more did Grandison lose his respect for her; he therefore took no notice of her letters, and determined to keep aloof from her in the future.