Cruel As The Grave

"Yes, madam, incredible as it seems. But I did not know this until the

lady came to her senses. When she first awoke and found my mother seated

by her bed, she expressed much surprise, at her presence and at her

own husband's absence. My mother, a plain spoken old lady, blurted out

the truth--how Mr. Horace Blondelle, after imposing a worthless check

upon me, in payment of my bill, had absconded with his valet, and been

missing ever since the night of the dinner-party, and that she, Mrs.

Blondelle, had slept profoundly through all these events.

"Oh, what a dreadful tale for the poor young wife to hear!" sighed

Sybil.

"It was worse than anything I ever saw in my life, madam--her grief and

shame and despair! She arose from her bed and began to examine her

effects, to see what she might have left, and how far they would go

towards settling my bill. She possessed some invaluable jewelry in

diamonds, rubies, and emeralds. I know she did, for I had seen her wear

them. She alluded to these, and said that they were worth many thousand

dollars, and that she would sell some of them to satisfy my claims. She

began to look for them, and then it was only by her broken exclamations

of dismay that I came to know that he had robbed her."

"The unnatural monster!" indignantly exclaimed Mr. Berners, while Sybil

gazed in almost incredulous consternation.

"Yes, sir, and madam, the truth was now apparent, even to the poor lady;

and it was this--that on the night of the dinner-party he had heavily

drugged her wine, so that when she retired to bed she fell into that

deep, death-like sleep. Then he took advantage of her state to get

possession of her keys, and to rifle her boxes and caskets, and make off

with her money and jewels."

"Poor, poor woman!" sighed Sybil.

"This, madam," continued the landlord, turning to Mrs. Burners,

"occurred four days ago. Since that time her base husband has been

traced to New York, and there lost sight of."

"And she?" inquired Sybil.

"She, madam, has given herself up to the wildest grief and despair. She

is as simple and as helpless as her own child. She has not the faintest

notion of self-reliance. And here is where the trouble is with me. I

have already lost several hundred dollars through this swindling

villain. The wife and child he has left behind him are still occupying

my best suite of apartments, for which, during their stay here, I shall

not receive one penny of remuneration: therefore you see I cannot afford

to keep this lady and her suite here, and neither can I find it in my

heart to tell her to leave the house. For where, indeed, can she go? She

has no friends or acquaintances in this country, no money, and no

property that she can effectually turn into money."