CHAPTER NINETEENTH.
AN ACT OF DESPAIR.
Mrs.Wentworth reached the store of Mr.Swartz and entered.

The clerk looked at her in astonishment.

She was unrecognizable.

Her dress was ragged and dirty; the hands and face that once rivalled the Parian marble in whiteness, were tanned by toil, and lay shrivelled and dried.

Her hair was dishevelled and gathered up in an uncomely heap on the back of her head.