“Then the young man went to college and saw the world. He realized how superficial Amy Lathrop was, and as time went by, he would have forgotten her completely, had she not kept up her side of the correspondence. And gradually a suggestive note crept into her letters.
“When his college days were over, young Dalken returned to his birth-place to settle the country estate that was his. Then he met Amy again, and she found him so chivalrous that it was an easy matter to give him to understand that she had waited for him these five years—that she had been the soul of faithfulness.
“Without consulting his friends, or mentioning the matter to others in the town, he became engaged to her on the claim from her, that it had so been understood before he went to college.
“Well, they were married, one day, and then our poor friend’s martyrdom began. Amy Dalken was of no use in anything or in any way. True, she had two children, but it may have been much better had she never become a mother. She had no affection for them or the father, and only thought of spending money and enjoying herself to the utmost.
“Dalken was wealthy before he married Amy, and his alert mind coupled with his unusual foresightedness in finance soon rolled up fortunes for him. His wife spent money like water, and was sought after by the vultures of society—those who fawn and fondle as long as they can get something out of the victim.
“Mrs. Dalken’s balls and bridge-parties were famous—I might say, notorious—for at the former the extravagance was a matter of newspaper comment, and at the latter, the stakes were so high that others lifted their eyebrows at the losses and gains.
“Little Billie Dalken was eighteen months old, and the joy of our good friend’s life, when a dreadful thing happened. Billie was a chubby, handsome little chap exactly like his father—the same intelligent brown eyes, the same fine features, and he was unusually clever and large for his age.
“Mr. Dalken had been called to Washington on business one day, and that same day his wife was about to give a grand dinner and bridge, later. There were plenty of servants in the household, but on such an occasion everyone was busy with the extra work. Billie’s own nurse gave him his supper and was about to put him to bed when she discovered a wheezing sound in his throat. She feared another attack of croup. She was about to apply the remedies she knew of, when Mrs. Dalken’s maid came to the nursery.
“‘The mistress says you are to go to her at once and I am to sit with the baby for a while. She wants her head massaged because it aches so!’
“And the nurse answered as she thought proper, ‘Go and tell your mistress that Billie has a bad cold and I must remain to take care of him.’