"They were often thus together whether he permitted it or not."
"He could n't have known it."
"Perhaps not. I could have given him a hint on the subject, if I had chosen—but it was none of my business."
On the next day all the parties came home—Sanford compulsorily, in the hands of an officer; Hatfield voluntarily, and in terrible alarm. The two brides were of course included. Sanford soon after left the city, and has not since been heard of. His crime was "breach of trust!" As for Hatfield, he was received on the principle that, in such matters, the least said the soonest mended. In the course of a few months he was able to restore the two hundred dollars he had abstracted. After this was done he felt easier in mind. He did not, however, make the foolish creature he had married happy. Externally, or to the world, they seem united, but internally they are not conjoined. Too plainly is this apparent to the father and mother, who have many a heart-ache for their dearly loved child.
THE MOTHER'S PROMISE.
A LADY, handsomely dressed, was about leaving her house to make a few calls, when a little boy ran out from the nursery, and clasping one of her gloved hands in both of his, looked up into her face with a glance of winning entreaty, saying, as he did so:
"Mamma! dear mamma! Won't you buy me a picture-book, just like cousin Edie's?"
"Yes, love," was the unhesitating reply; and the lady stooped to kiss the sweet lips of her child.
"Eddy must be a good boy, and mind nurse while mamma is away," she added.