Then he was in Paris, and had decided to go for a week to Pau, where he said they were having such fine fox hunts.

Weeks went by and he never wrote nor came, and Amy would have been utterly destitute and friendless but for Arthur Tracy, who, when her need was greatest, went to her, telling her that he had never been far from her, but had watched over her vigilantly to see that no harm came to her.

When her husband went to Paris he knew it through a detective, and from the same source knew when he went to Pau, where all trace of him had been lost.
'But we are sure to find him again,' he said, encouragingly; 'and meantime I shall see that you do not suffer.

As an old friend of your husband, you will allow me to care for you until he is found.' And Amy, who had no alternative, accepted his care, and tried to seem cheerful and brave while waiting for the husband who never came back.
At last when all hope of seeing him again was gone, Arthur sent her home to the cottage in the lane, where her mother received her gladly, thanking Heaven that she had her daughter back again.

But not for long.
Poor Amy's heart was broken.