There had been quite an argument between the young husband and Sally onthe day he received his mother's letter informing him of her return fromabroad, and her intense amazement at his hasty marriage.

  "I had always hoped to persuade you to let _me_ pick out a wife for you,Jay, my darling son," she wrote. "I can only hope you have chosen wiselywhen you took the reins into your own hands. Come and make us a visit,and bring your wife with you. We are very anxious to meet her."

  Sally frowned as he read the letter aloud.

  Never in the world were two united who were so unsuited to each other.Why did the fates that are supposed to have the love affairs of mortalsin charge, allow the wrong man to marry the wrong woman?

  There was one thing over which Sally was exceedingly jubilant, and thatwas his loss of memory. That he had known such a person as BernardineMoore, the old basket-maker's beautiful daughter, was entirelyobliterated from his mind.

  Some one had mentioned the great tenement-house fire in Jay Gardiner'spresence, and the fact that quite a quaint character, a tipsybasket-maker, had lost his life therein, but the young doctor looked upwithout the slightest gleam of memory drifting through his brain. Noteven when the person who was telling him the story went on to say thatthe great fire accomplished one good result, however, and that was thewiping out of the wine-house of Jasper Wilde & Son.

  "Wilde--Jasper Wilde! It seems to me that I have heard that name beforein connection with some unpleasant transaction," said Doctor Gardiner,slowly.

  "Oh, no doubt. You've probably read the name in the papers connectedwith some street brawl. Jasper Wilde, the son, is a well-dressed tough."

  "Before going to see your mother, why not spend a few weeks at Newportwith Sally," suggested Mrs. Pendleton to the doctor. "You know she hasnot been away on her wedding-trip yet."

  He laughed a dry, mirthless laugh.

  "She can go if she likes," he replied. "I can endure it."

  Mrs. Pendleton bit her lip to keep back the angry retort, but wiselymade no reply.

  "It will never do to have the least disagreement with my wealthy,haughty son-in-law, if I can help it," she said to herself. "Especiallyas my husband is in such sore straits, and may have to come to him for aloan any day."

  The following week Jay Gardiner and his bride reached Newport. Theseason was at its height. Yachts crowded the harbor; the hotels werefilled to overflowing; every one who intended going to Newport was therenow, and all seemed carried away on the eddying current of pleasure.

  Young Mrs. Gardiner--_nee_ the pretty Sally Pendleton--plunged into thevortex of pleasure, and if her greed for admiration was not satisfiedwith the attention she received, it never would be.

  Young Mrs. Gardiner knew no restraint. Her society was everywhere soughtafter. She was courted in every direction, and she took it all as herjust due, by virtue of her marriage with the handsome millionaire, whomall the married belles were envying her, sighing to one another:

  "Oh! how handsome he is--how elegant! and what a lordly manner he has!But, best of all, he lets his wife do just as she pleases."

  But the older and wiser ones shook their heads sagaciously, declaringthey scented danger afar off.

  Little did they dream that the terrible calamity was nearer than theyhad anticipated.

  CHAPTER XXXV.

  Although, outwardly, young Mrs. Gardiner and her handsome husband livedideal lives, yet could one have taken a peep behind the scenes, theywould have seen that all was not gold that glittered.

  In their own apartments, out of sight of the world's sharp eyes, JayGardiner and his wife used each other with the scantest possiblecourtesy. He never descended to the vulgarity of having words with her,though she did her utmost to provoke him to quarrel, saying to herselfthat anything was better than that dead calm, that haughty way he had ofcompletely ignoring her in his elegant apartments.

  During what every one believed to be the most blissful of honey-moons,Sally learned to hate her proud husband with a deadly hatred.

  On the evening Mr. Victor Lamont made his appearance at the Ocean House,there was to be a grand ball given in honor of the guests, and, as everyone had hoped, Mr. Lamont strolled in during the course of the evening,accompanied by mine host, who was over head and ears with delight inhaving such an honored guest stopping at his hotel.

  Scores of girlish eyes brightened as they entered the arched door-way,and scores of hearts beat expectantly under pretty lace bodices. Buttheir disappointment was great when this handsome Apollo glanced themall over critically, but did not ask any of them out to dance, and allthe best waltzes were being then played.

  Victor Lamont seemed quite indifferent to their shy glances.

  During this time he was keeping up quite an animated conversation withhis host, who was telling him, with pride, that _this_ pretty girl wasMiss This, and that pretty girl Miss So-and-So. But Victor Lamont wouldsooner have known who their fathers were.

  At length, as his eyes traveled about the great ball-room withbusiness-like carefulness, his gaze fell upon a slender figure in rosepink and fairly covered with diamonds. They blazed like ropes of fireabout the white throat and on the slender arms; they twinkled likeimmense stars from the shell-like ears and coyly draped bosom, and rosein a great tiara over the highly piled blonde hair.

  She was standing under a great palm-tree, its green branches formingjust the background that was needed to perfect the dainty picture inpink.

  She was surrounded as usual by a group of admirers. Victor Lamont'sindifference vanished. He was interested at last.

  "Who is the young lady under the palm directly opposite?" he asked,quickly.

  "The belle of Newport," was the reply. "Shall I present you?"

  "I should be delighted," was the quick response. Instantly rebellionrose in the heart of every girl in the room, and resentment showed inscores of flushed cheeks and angry eyes as the hero of the evening wasled over to pretty Sally Gardiner.

  No wonder they watched him with dismay. From the moment graceful Mr.Lamont was presented to her, he made no attempt to disguise howcompletely he was smitten by her.

  "That is a delightful waltz," he said, bending over the little hand asthe dance music struck up.

  Sally bowed, and placed a dainty little hand lightly on his shoulder,his arm encircled the slender waist, and away they went whirling throughthe bewildering stretch of ball-room, a cloud of pink and flashingdiamonds, the curly blonde head and the blonde, mustached facedangerously near each other.

  CHAPTER XXXVI.

  If young Mrs. Gardiner heard the ominous whispers on all sides of her,regarding her open flirtation with handsome Victor Lamont, she did notheed them. She meant to show the haughty husband whom she had learned tohate with such a deadly hatred, that other men would show her attention.

  The world owed her pleasure, a good time, and love by right of her youthand beauty, and she meant to have them at whatever cost.

  Victor Lamont struck her fancy. He was gay, debonair, and was certainlyin love with her; and, in open defiance of the consequences, she rushedmadly on, in her quest of pleasure, toward the precipice covered withflowers that was yawning to receive her.

  The beginning of the end came in a very strange way. One evening therewas a grand hop at the Ocean House. It was one of the most brilliantaffairs of the season. The magnificent ball-room was crowded tooverflowing with beauty and fashion. Every one who was any one in allgay Newport was present. Jay Gardiner had been suddenly called away toattend to some very important business in Boston, and consequently wouldnot be able to attend. But that made no difference about Sally's going;indeed, it was a relief to her to know that he would not be there.

  It occasioned no surprise, even though comments of disapproval wagedlouder than ever, when the beautiful young Mrs. Gardiner, the marriedbelle of the ball, entered, leaning upon Victor Lamont's arm.

  Those who saw her whispered one to another that the reigning beauty ofNewport quite surpassed herself to-night--that even
the buds had betterlook to their laurels. The maids and the matrons, even the gentlemen,looked askance when they saw Victor Lamont and young Mrs. Gardiner danceevery dance together, and the murmur of stern disapproval grew louder.

  At last, the couple was missed from the ball-room altogether. Some onereported having seen them strolling up and down the beach in themoonlight. There was no mistaking the tall, broad-shouldered, handsomeEnglishman, and the trim, dainty little figure in fleecy white, with theermine wrap thrown over the pretty plump shoulders and round neck, onwhich rare diamonds, that would have paid a king's ransom, gleamedfitfully whenever the sportive breeze tossed back the ermine wrap.

  Victor Lamont's fickle fancy for his companion had been a short-livedone. Like all male flirts, he soon tired of his conquests, and longedfor new fields and new faces. He was considering this matter, when hereceived a letter that set him thinking. It was from his boon companion,Egremont, who was doing Long Branch.

  There were four pages, written in cipher, which only Lamont couldunderstand. The last one read as follows:

  "Report has it that you are head and ears in love with a married beauty, and are carrying on a very open flirtation. Egad! my boy, that will never do. You have no time to waste in sentiment over other men's wives. You went to Newport with the avowed intention of capturing an heiress--some widow's daughter.

  "You know how we stand as regards money. Money we must get somehow, some way--_any way_. We must realize five thousand dollars to save Hal, between now and this day week. It remains for you to think of some way to obtain it. If Hal peached on us, we would go up along with him, so, you see, the money _must_ be raised somehow.

  "My fall on the day I landed here, laying me up with a sprained ankle, was an unfortunate affair, for it prevented me from making the harvest we counted on. So everything falls on your shoulders.

  "You must have learned by this time who is who, and where they keep their jewels and pocket-books. If I am able to get about, I will run over to see you on Saturday next. Two or three of our friends will accompany me.

  "Yours in haste,

  "EGREMONT."

  The day appointed saw three men alight from the early morning train.They had occupied different cars, and swung off onto the platform fromdifferent places. But the old policeman, who had done duty at thestation of the famous watering-place for nearly two decades, noted themat once with his keen, experienced eye.

  "A trio of crooks," he muttered, looking after them. "I can tell it fromtheir shifting glances and hitching gait, as though they never couldbreak from the habit of the lock-step; I will keep my eye on them."

  Although the three men went to different hotels, they had been scarcelyan hour in Newport before they all assembled in the room of the man whohad written to Lamont, signing himself Egremont.

  "It is deuced strange Victor doesn't come," he said, impatiently. "Hemust have received both my letter and telegram."

  At that moment there was a step outside, the door opened, and VictorLamont, the subject of their conversation, strode into the apartment.

  "It was a mighty risky step, pals, for you to come to Newport, and,above all, to expect me to keep this appointment with you to-day!" heexclaimed, excitedly. "Didn't you know that?"

  And with that he pulled the door to after him with a bang.

  It was nearly two hours ere Victor Lamont, with his hat pulled down overhis eyes, quitted the hostelry and his companions, and then he went by aside entrance, first glancing quickly up and down the street to note ifthere was any one about who would be apt to recognize him.

  The coast being apparently clear, he stepped out into the street, walkedrapidly away, and turned the nearest corner.

  "If it could be done!" he muttered, under his breath. "The chance is adesperate one, but, as Egremont says, we must raise money _somehow_.Well, it's a pretty daring scheme; but I am in for it, if the prettylittle beauty can be induced to stroll on the beach to-night."

  Night had come, and to Victor Lamont's great delight, he received apretty, cream-tinted, sweet-scented, monogrammed note from SallyGardiner, saying that she would be pleased to accept his escort thatevening, and would meet him in the reception-room an hour later.

  Lamont's eyes sparkled with joy as he saw her, for she was resplendentin a dream of white lace, and wore all her magnificent diamonds.

  He was obliged to promenade and dance with her for an hour or so,although he knew his companions would be waiting with the utmostimpatience on the shore.

  When he proposed the stroll, he looked at her keenly, his lips apart,intense eagerness in his voice.

  To his great relief, she acquiesced at once.

  "Though," she added, laughingly, "I do not suppose it would be as safeto wear all my diamonds on the beach as it would be if we justpromenaded the piazza."

  "It would be a thousand times more romantic," he whispered, his glancethrilling her through and through, his hand tightening over the littleone resting on his arm.

  And so, as the moth follows the flickering, dancing flame, foolish SallyGardiner, without a thought of danger, took the arm of the handsomestranger whom she had known but a few short weeks, and sauntered outupon the beach with him.

  There were hundreds of promenaders, and no one noticed themparticularly.

  On and on they walked, Lamont whispering soft, sweet nothings into herfoolish ears, until they had left most of the throng far behind them.

  "Hack, sir!--hack to ride up and down the beach!" exclaimed a man,stopping a pair of mettlesome horses almost directly in front of them.

  Victor Lamont appeared to hesitate an instant; but in that instant heand the driver had exchanged meaning glances.

  "Shall we not ride up and down, instead of walking?" suggested Lamont,eagerly. "I--I have something to tell you, and I may never have such anopportunity again. We can ride down as far as the light-house on thepoint, and back. Do not refuse me so slight a favor, I beg of you."

  If she had stopped to consider, even for one instant, she would havedeclined the invitation; but, almost before she had decided whether sheshould say yes or no, Victor Lamont had lifted her in his strong arms,placed her in the cab, and sprung in after her.

  Pretty, jolly Sally Gardiner looked a trifle embarrassed.

  "Oh, how imprudent, Mr. Lamont!" she cried, clinging to his arm, as thefull consciousness of the situation seemed to occur to her. "We hadbetter get out, and walk back to the Ocean House."

  But it was too late for objections. The driver had already whipped uphis horses, and instead of creeping wearily along, after the fashion oftired hack horses, they flew down the beach like the wind.

  "Oh, Mrs. Gardiner--Sally!" cried Victor Lamont, in a voice apparentlyhusky with emotion, "the memory of this ride will be with me while lifelasts!"

  Victor Lamont's voice died away in a hoarse whisper; the hand whichcaught and held her own closed tighter over it, and the hoarse murmur ofthe sea seemed further and further away.

  Sally Gardiner seemed only conscious of one thing--that Victor Lamontloved her.

  CHAPTER XXXVII.

  For a moment the words falling so passionately from the lips of thehandsome man sitting beside her, the spell of the moonlight, and themurmur of the waves, seemed to lock her senses in a delicious dream. Butthe dream lasted only a moment. In the next, she had recovered herself.

  "Oh, Mr. Lamont, we must--we must get right out and walk back to thehotel! What if any one should see us riding together? Jay would be sureto hear of it, and there would be trouble in store for both of us."

  "It is all in a life-time," he murmured. "Can you not be happy here withme----"

  But she broke away from his detaining hand in alarm. She had been guiltyof an imprudent flirtation; but she had meant nothing more. She haddrifted into this delusive friendship and companionship without so muchas bothering her pretty golden head about how it would end. Now she wasjust beginning to
see how foolish she had been--when this handsomestranger could be nothing to her--nothing.

  "We must not ride any further," she declared. "Give orders for the coachto stop right here, Mr. Lamont."

  "It is too late, dear lady," he gasped. "The horses are running away!For God's sake, don't attempt to scream or to jump, or you will bekilled!"

  With a wild sob of terror, Sally flung herself down on her knees, andthe lips that had never yet said, "God be praised," cried "God bemerciful!"

  "Don't make such a confounded noise!" exclaimed Lamont, attempting tolift her again to the seat beside him. "We won't get hurt if you onlykeep quiet. The driver is doing his best to get control of the horses.They can't keep up this mad pace much longer, and will be obliged tostop from sheer exhaustion."

  After what appeared to be an age to the terrified young woman crouchingthere in such utter fright, the vehicle stopped short with a sharp thudand a lurch forward that would have thrown Sally upon her face, had nother companion reached forward and caught her.

  "Well, driver," called out Lamont, as he thrust open the door and lookedout, "here's a pretty go, isn't it? Turn right around, and go back asquickly as your horses can take us!"

  "I am awfully sorry to say that I won't be able to obey your order,sir," replied the man on the box, with a slight cough. "We've had anaccident. The horses are dead lame, and we've had a serious break-down,and that, too, when we are over thirty miles from Newport. Confound theluck!"

  Sally had been listening to this conversation, and as the driver's wordsfell on her ears, she was filled with consternation and alarm. Hertongue cleaved to the roof of her mouth, and her eyes nearly jumped fromtheir sockets.