REGINALD.’ “What on earth did it all mean? I went to the library, and there found Mr. Vincent’s likeness simply cut and slashed into ribbons. Reginald had left orders not to remove it; as I gazed on the ruined portrait and thought of the part of my husband’s letter wherein a like fate was promised Jean, I realized how utterly impossible it would be to consent to Reginald’s demands, for to do so would be an open confession of wrong, with a defined effort to right it, and so help me, God, we were as innocent as the now fatherless babe, and I knew Jean Vincent to be a man of principle; then I thought of Reginald’s obdurate nature, and—Oh, horrors! he would be a murderer. “With the thought of blood running from gaping wounds, I swooned away. When I opened my eyes again the doctor was standing over me; I asked for my baby; the nurse brought it, and I was so mystified that I shrieked in my despair; the poor little black thing, black eyes, ringlets of jet black hair and skin as swarthy as the cuticle of an Italian. A long talk with the physician shed light on the subject. He explained how the constant association with some dark person at such a time as that in which I happened to be with Mr. Vincent would bring about just such a result. “The scandal killed my mother; my father was just as unreasonable as my husband and refused to advise or assist me, even denying me the privilege of seeing him. After two years he died cursing me, but not before he had willed all of his fortune to a distant relative, leaving me penniless. “On the advice of neighbors, who were sufficiently interested in me to at least want me to leave the community, I put my baby boy in a home for waifs; then selling such articles of personal property as I possessed, I started on a journey which will only end in death. “I came direct to Chicago, thinking to hide myself in the whirl of a busy city, but soon the little store of wealth which I had realized from the sale of my belongings had melted down until there was only a thin wall of finance between me and starvation. I sought a position and in each attempt was defeated on account of not having a business education; I was not even fitted to do housework; it was then I realized how painfully helpless a girl is in a strange land with no means, who has been born and reared in luxury without even a smattering of domesticity in her character.” “Why did you not try your hand at painting?” “I did try, but no use; when I took up a brush and palette my hand was seized with palsy when I touched the brush to the canvas, I fancied I could hear the sounds of ripping, tearing cloth, and to save my life the best I could do was to make zig-zag lines; all of the love for art, all of the ambition had vanished.