"Well, mother, have you any news to tell me?" asked Paul, when he had received a joyful welcome from his mother and sister.

"There is one item," said Mrs. Palmer. "Of course you have not forgotten Miss Dearborn?"

"As if I would be likely to! I don't forget one who has been so kind to all of us. What about her?"

"She is to be married—a very romantic marriage too—to a young portrait painter, who is rich in talent, but has no money."

"Well, I hope he is worthy of her. Miss Dearborn has money enough for both."

"Her aunt, too—Mrs. Sheldon—is to be married."

"What, she?" laughed Paul. "Why, she must be almost sixty."

"Don't let her hear that you have said that, or she will never forgive you."

"But she is that, isn't she?"

"She is perhaps fifty or over.""And who is the happy man?" asked Paul, smiling.

"Major Ashton."

As she pronounced his name there was a sudden exclamation from the lady whom Paul had brought home with him.

"Major Ashton!" she exclaimed, her face indicating distress.

"Yes," answered Mrs. Palmer, in response. "Do you know him?"

"Do I know him?" repeated the lady, pressing her hand to her side. "He is my husband!"

"Your husband!" exclaimed Paul, in surprise and perplexity. "Then how can he marry another?"

"It is a wicked deception!" said the strange lady. "This marriage must be stopped. I cannot permit him to deceive a worthy lady, as Mrs. Sheldon doubtless is. Is she wealthy?"

"She is very wealthy," said Mrs. Palmer. "I have heard her fortune estimated at a quarter of a million."

"That explains it," said his unfortunate wife. "He only thinks of money. He married me for money, and he would make her a second victim."

"She must beat least fifteen years older than the major," said Mrs. Palmer.

"He would care little for that, since it is not love but money that influences him. Where does Mrs. Sheldon live? I must see her at once, and warn her."

"I know where she lives," said Paul. "I will accompany you, if you wish."

"Will you, indeed, be so kind?"

"Certainly. I shall be glad to do anything for a family that has been so kind to my mother and myself."

Half an hour later Paul stood on the steps of Mrs. Sheldon's handsome house, with the lady at his side.

"Is Mrs. Sheldon at home?" he asked of the servant, who answered his call.

"I believe so. What name shall I say?"

"Paul Palmer. Will you say that my business is urgent?"

"You can come in," said the servant.

So the two entered the parlor, and in a few minutes Mrs. Sheldon, in some surprise at the message, entered also.

Paul rose and bowed.

"You are my niece's protege, I believe," said Mrs. Sheldon, "or rather the boy in whom she is interested."

"Yes, madam, Miss Dearborn has been very kind to me.""You have a message for me?" asked the widow, looking inquiringly at the lady with Paul.

"This lady wishes to speak to you," said Paul.

"Oh, indeed," said Mrs. Sheldon, coldly.

"Madam," cried the stranger, in unmistakable emotion, "is this true what I hear? Are you engaged to marry Major Ashton?"

"By what right do you inquire?" demanded Mrs. Sheldon, haughtily.

"By what right? Oh, madam, by the best of all rights. I am his wife!"

Mrs. Sheldon stared at the stranger in dismay and incredulity.

"I cannot believe this," she said, sharply. "You must be beside yourself."

"No, madam; it is only too true. Look! I have my marriage certificate. You must believe that." Rapidly she told her story, and, though much against her will, Mrs. Sheldon was forced to believe the truth of the story. It was terribly mortifying to find that she had come so near being duped, and her heart was stirred with indignation against the smooth-tongued deceiver, who had so craftily schemed against her happiness.

Scarcely was the story told when a ring was heard at the door, and the servant entering announced "Major Ashton.""Bring him in!" said Mrs. Sheldon, sternly. "Now I shall know the truth."

Major Ashton, dressed in the most careful manner, with a rose in his button-hole, his heart full of happy anticipations of the fortune that would soon be his, was ushered in.

He did not at first notice the other occupants of the room, but hurried to Mrs. Sheldon, with a very good affectation of a lover's fervor. He was about to press a kiss on the widow's cheek, when she stepped back and said:

"Major Ashton, I wish to introduce you to this lady."

Mrs. Ashton, the ill-used wife, rose at the words, and threw aside her veil.

"Oh, Reginald!" she cried, reproachfully.

One look was enough, and he stood as if paralyzed.

"Confusion!" he muttered. "What evil fate brought you here?"

"I came to prevent your doing a wicked thing, Reginald. I came to prevent your deceiving this good lady as you deceived, or worse than deceived me."

By this time Major Ashton had partially recovered his self-possession. He meant to fight it out if possible.

"How did you escape from the asylum?" he asked."From the asylum!" repeated his wife. "What do you mean?"

"Mrs. Sheldon," said the major, turning to his affianced bride, "I am sorry you have been disturbed by a madwoman. This lady is my sister. For years she has been confined in a mad-house. She is under the singular delusion that she is my wife, and she may have told you so."

Mrs. Sheldon looked relieved, but it was only for a moment. She remembered the certificate.

"I have seen your marriage certificate," she said.

"A forged paper," he replied, shrugging his shoulders.

"Mrs. Sheldon," said the wife, "I beg of you not to believe him. He has no sister, and I have heard him say he never had any. Of my marriage I can call living witnesses, but it will take time. If, however, you will telegraph to my father in San Francisco, you will have speedy proof of the falsehood of his assertions."

"I believe you," said the widow. "I do not think you would deceive me."

"Then you choose to be humbugged by a madwoman?" said Major Ashton. "Have you no more confidence in me?"

"I will reserve my opinion. Are you willing that I should telegraph to San Francisco?"Major Ashton hesitated a moment. He saw that his last chance was gone.

His wife's story was sure to be confirmed.

"Well," he said, recklessly, "the game is up! It is unfortunately true that I am tied to this lady. I hoped before this she would do me the favor to die and leave me free."

"Go, sir!" said Mrs. Sheldon, indignantly. "I am fortunate in being saved from marriage with such a man."

"I sha'n't break my heart," said the major, mockingly. "I am sorry to lose your fortune, but for yourself, I am well rid of the engagement. If you had not been blind, you would have understood that nothing but your money would have induced me to marry a woman old enough to be my mother."

This was the unkindest cut of all. Poor Mrs. Sheldon sank back in an arm-chair in a fit of hysterics, and the major, with a cynical smile, left the room.

The widow was a kind-hearted woman, and, when she came to herself, generously insisted upon Mrs. Ashton remaining under her roof till she had recovered from the fatigue of her journey. Later she purchased her a return ticket to San Francisco, and secured an escort for her. She expressed a hope that her recreant husband would return to his duty, but Mrs. Ashton shook her head.

"I could never trust him," she said. "I am better off with my father," and Mrs. Sheldon felt that she was right.

Major Ashton disappeared from Chicago, but where he went has not transpired. Perhaps amid other scenes he may be laying snares for other heiresses. Mrs. Sheldon, at any rate, has been saved from his arts.