“To say I was surprised and grieved would not tell my emotion when I read your letter. I have but this to say: When you feel ready to leave this vagabond, and come back to your father, he is ready to receive you. But with him you can never come. I hope I shall hear from you in a sensible way soon. Do not apply to me for money while you are this man’s wife. Until that time comes that you are free from him, I will simply sign myself, “YOUR FATHER.” CHAPTER II. When Annie Standish read this letter she swooned at her husband’s feet, for she had been so sure that her father would forgive her and tell her to come home immediately, that he would take them both into his heart and home. Victor Standish took the letter in his hands as he supported his wife’s tottering steps and swore that he would make this father-in-law retract his words and welcome his daughter Annie home again. As he sat watching her a load of pain seemed to rest upon his heart, for he had brought her to this great agony, and by insisting that she marry him he had separated her from home kindred, and nothing was left to her but him, and he must make up for all, and bring into her life every bit of pleasure in his power. Annie stirred and opened her eyes. “It isn’t true, is it, Victor?” cried she. “Oh, I had such a dreadful dream, and I thought that papa wouldn’t forgive me, and the thought was more than I could bear.” The tears started into the young husband’s eyes. The pale face leaning against his arm was so inexpressibly dear to him. “Sweetheart,” murmured he, “would you feel that you could not live for your husband, if----” “Then it is true, it is true. Oh, papa, papa, how could you do so to your little girl,” and the cry that went up from the slender throat was never forgotten by the young husband. “Don’t, don’t, Annie, you will break my heart.” After that they were silent, each suffering for the sin committed. They heard no more from the rich father, and his pride would not bend. When the summer came, and the fall ushered in the red leaves Annie rose from a bed of sickness and brought a little child with her, and with tears in her eyes she whispered to her husband: “Sweetheart, I shall name her Helen after my mother. I am sure that it will please my father.” So the wee bit of humanity was christened, and Annie Standish began to be happier. Still the news of the little child’s birth did not soften the banker’s heart, as he had said that he would not forgive, and forgive he would not. So the days went by until one afternoon Victor came in with the news that his regiment had been ordered out for active service. “It will be a chance for me to make a name for you and the baby,” said he lovingly. “Oh, Annie, that is all I want to do, for I have an ambition to make your father change his mind.” “But, but,” faltered Annie, “you might get killed, Victor, and then what would Helen and I do? There would be no one left to us then.”