"And how did it go with you then?"
"Very well,—for some months. There was nothing to mar our happiness,—till one day he came and made his way into our presence."
"The husband?"
"Yes; the husband, Ferdinand Lefroy, the elder brother;—he of whom I had been told that he was dead; he was there standing before us, talking to us,—half drunk, but still well knowing what he was doing."
"Why had he come?"
"In want of money, I suppose,—as this other one has come here."
"Did he ask for money?"
"I do not think he did then, though he spoke of his poor condition. But on the next day he went away. We heard that he had taken the steamer down the river for New Orleans. We have never heard more of him from that day to this."
"Can you imagine what caused conduct such as that?"
"I think money was given to him that night to go; but if so, I do not know by whom. I gave him none. During the next day or two I found that many in St. Louis knew that he had been there."