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Tinknor's words "think no more of one who if you were to become his wife, would make your life beyond all expression, miserable," rang continually in her ears: and, while her heart prompted her to a different course, her intellect in a measure approved the advice. Consequently she naturally shrank from a private interview, before her mind was fully prepared to meet the exigency.

By a succession of impatient jerks she endeavored to bring the wayward mass to submission; but the more she attempted to separate and arrange, the closer the loving locks embraced each other, and she was beginning to despair of conquering the difficulty, when she heard a light knock and Mrs. Tinknor's kind voice said "May I come in?"

Tinknor, drawing a long breath, "I had not the decision that marks your character, darling, and consequently am a drunkard's wife." Mrs. Tinknor's voice fell very low, as she repeated the last words, and Little Wolf involuntarily clasped more closely the hand on which she had laid her own. "You are not, really, what you called yourself, Mrs.

On coming in they unluckily took possession of the very room through which the ladies would pass in order to reach Mrs. Tinknor's apartment. Reassured by her hostess, Little Wolf pushed confidently forward, making bold and decisive charges at the obstructing doors, and in this manner, made her way directly into the presence of the two young gentlemen, Mr. Tinknor having gone in search of his wife.