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Barely past fifty years of age, David Cable was in the prie and prosperity had ihtness of his face, the erect, and soldierly carriage of his person ure His wife, ten years his junior, was one of the irlish beauty had refined under the blasts of adversity; years had not been unkind to her In a way, she was the leader of a certain set, but her social aher altitude in fashion's realm Money, influence and perseverance were her allies; social despotism her only adversary

The tall, beautiful and accohter of the Cables orshipped by her father with all the warmth and ardour of his soul Times there hen he looked in wonder upon this arbiter of not a fewhi for a child, co on the fact that she bore resemblance to neither parent

For years, Mrs Cable had lived in no little terror of soreoradually diminished and a sense of security that would not be disturbed replaced the out for the chief prizes of her ae she never had forgotten--Elias Droo shadows!

It was late in the afternoon, and she was crossing the sidewalk to her carriage waiting near Field's, when a e oppressiveness Before she turned to look at hi eyes were upon her face So seelance was sufficient The tall, angular form stood alned surprise; the never-to-be-forgotten voice greeted her, hoarsely: "Good afternoon, Mrs Cable! And how is the baby?"

"The baby!" she faltered Struggle against it as she would, a sort of fascination drew her gaze toward the remarkable face of the old clerk "Why--why--she's very well, thank you," she finally stahost; with a shudder she started to pass him Droo, I rely: "Where is her father, now?"

"He--Mr Cable," answered Mrs Cable, feeling very much as a bird feels when it is charmed by a snake, "why, he's at home, of course"