"My father! He hasn't acted much like a father who cared anything for his daughter!" Dorothy indignantly interposed. "And he's been horrid to you, lots of times. He's been so lazy, too, lounging around the house and letting you work so hard, and taking your money. I've been so ashamed that he couldn't be like other gentlemen, and take care of us. I used to think I was proud of him, and loved him, for he is handsome and can be nice when he feels like it. I—I don't like to go near him now, though, and I haven't wanted to kiss him for a long time. But I love you, mamma, dear, with all my heart; and if he does go away I will try to be so good to you that—that perhaps you won't mind it quite so much," the child concluded, with a burst of tears, as she threw herself into her mother's arms, and clung to her convulsively.
Helen was deeply touched by this spontaneous outburst of love and loyalty, and, as she thought the matter over more and more, she began to feel that if John's infatuation could not be broken—if he was past redemption—it would be better for Dorothy, perhaps, to be away from his influence.
A month later Helen received notice from a lawyer, informing her of her husband's intention of applying for a divorce; he also stated that Mr. Hungerford desired a personal interview for the purpose of definitely arranging the matter with her.
Helen acceded to this request, and the scene recorded in our opening chapter followed a few days later, when John Hungerford learned, much to his surprise, that his wife would oppose no obstacle to his desire and efforts to secure a legal separation from her; when she had told him he might go free, as soon as the law would allow, provided he would relinquish all claim to Dorothy and did not attempt to compromise herself in any way.
The result we already know. The divorce was granted. John Hungerford went immediately abroad, ostensibly to resume his art studies, but really to follow the woman who had won his allegiance from his wife, and Helen was left to meet the situation alone as best she could.
CHAPTER VIII.
HELEN PLANS HER FUTURE.
"I have decided to leave San Francisco. I will not have Dorothy's life spoiled by this wretched scandal, which she will never be allowed to forget if we remain here. I am going to put three thousand miles between our past history and ourselves. I am going to New York City to live."
Thus announced Helen Hungerford while discussing her future with her lifelong friend, Mrs. Horace Hamilton, who had been not only her chum throughout their college course, and her maid of honor at her marriage, but had faithfully stood by her in all her trials since her return from Europe. It was she who had helped her to secure music scholars, who had been first and foremost in introducing her as a chamber-concert singer, and launching her upon the career that had proved such a signal success. She had also been especially kind and loyal at the time of her husband's desertion, and shielded her in every possible way from the gossip and scandal attending the unfortunate separation.
"Mercy, dear, won't it be flying in the face of Providence for you to race wildly off to the other side of the continent?" exclaimed Mrs. Hamilton, in a startled tone, adding sympathetically: "I am forced to admit that your position here is certainly very trying, Helen; but this seems to me like a perfectly mad scheme. Do you know a single soul in New York?"