And this was the woman that Athalia had been toiling for her husband to pamper. Oh, how she did pray to die!
Nannette, when she learned the facts, was furious. She would have gone in and torn her heart out.
She said she never did have anything to do with a married man, if she knew it. George had lied to her, and never should see her but once again—once, to get her blessing.
Athalia was calm. She sat down a few minutes, to recover from this last stab in the heart, and then said she would look once more and then go home. She did look, and saw her husband locked in the arms of that red-headed fury. Then she went home; she did not go to bed; she worked all night putting her things in order. Next day, at ten o'clock, a red flag was fluttering at her window, and while Walter and his mistress were going down the Bay, her furniture was "going, going, gone," to the highest bidder.
At sundown she was homeless, friendless, worse than husbandless, alone, in the streets of New York!
CHAPTER XI.
LIFE AT THE FIVE POINTS.
MADALINA, THE RAG-PICKER'S DAUGHTER.
"Youth is bought more oft, than begged or borrowed."