But he had cunningly slipped quite another sort of letter into the envelope, and destroyed the one she had seen him write.
By and by came the time when he must leave her alone and return to his home, lest his rich father disinherit him on finding out the truth of his marriage to the village beauty.
He never returned.
For a while came letters filled with love and devotion, and always inclosing money for the little wife.
Weary months slipped away, and brought the winter snows. The deserted bride fell ill, and besought her husband to return to her side.
Blank silence fell. No more letters, no more money.
In the simple cottage where she boarded, the people began to hint at desertion. The villainous son showed her loverlike attentions.
When Daisy repulsed him in anger he showed her a letter from her husband that broke her heart.
Chester had written to the villain that the girl was not his wife. He had deceived her by a mock marriage. Now he was weary of her, and would see her no more. In fact, he was about to go abroad for years, and if he, the villain, would marry the girl, he would pay him handsomely to keep the whole thing quiet.
For the sake of her beauty and the bribe he was offered, this poor apology for manhood was ready to make Daisy an honest wife, but when she refused him with biting scorn he made his weak mother thrust her into the street, homeless and penniless in the winter’s snow.