Anna sat down in a chair, simply because she was too weak for the upright position she had bravely maintained till then; but her face was turned upon the proud woman with a look that seemed to be making a last plead for her life. “I wish it could be avoided. Do believe me, I am giving myself almost as much pain as you can feel; but firmness here is mercy. Promise not to see my son again.” “I have—I have!” These words were uttered in a cry of absolute anguish, that drove the blood from Mrs. Savage’s face; but she was firm as a rock, notwithstanding this strain on her sympathy. “Promise, if you should be forced to see him, that no explanations shall be made. Let him keep his present impression, injurious as it may be, regarding young Ward.” Poor Anna Burns! These were hard conditions, harder than she knew of; for, brought up by that pure and gentle old woman, more carefully than most city belles ever were, she had no idea that any one could think worse of her than that she had encouraged the honorable attentions of this man Ward. But that thought alone was enough to make her young heart swell with bitter humiliation. “Lady, he cannot believe it. He never will believe that I could turn from him to that dreadful man,” she cried, in a passion of resentment. “There is not a girl on earth who could be so insane.” “But it seems he does believe it,” answered the lady. Anna’s uplifted hand fell heavily into her lap. “True! true!” she repeated, in a heart-broken voice. “He saw us together; he would not speak to me.” She got up wearily now, and besought Mrs. Savage to let her depart. “I have promised every thing,” she said. “There is nothing more that you can want of me.” “But I, too, have promised something.” “What?” “Help, protection, money, if you need it.” Anna turned upon her like a hunted doe, her cheeks red with passionate pride, her eyes on fire. “Madam, I give you back your son, I do not sell him.” “Then you reject kindness. You will accept nothing?” faltered Mrs. Savage. Anna did not answer, but walked quietly out of the room, with her hand clenched under the scant shawl, and her lips pressed firmly together. For the first time in her life she was really in a passion. Mrs. Savage, shocked by the surprise of this outbreak, stood speechless till the girl had disappeared. When she did find words, they came in a burst of admiration. “Upon my word, she is a splendid young creature! I do not wonder that Horace is infatuated with her. She absolutely makes me ashamed of myself. If it were not for Georgiana——No, no! it never can be.” As Anna was going home, stepping proudly, from the pure force of such resentment, as few women could feel and retain their dignity, she met little Joseph, with a bundle of papers under his arm. “Please, will you buy a paper, Miss? Ledger! Telegraph! Bulletin!” he said, with a rogueish little laugh. “Only five cents!”