“I don’t think there is any danger of that, sister.  He will be home after awhile.  At any rate, there is little chance of your finding him, for he won’t be likely to remain long at the tavern where I left him.”

“If I can’t find him, so much the worse,” replied the girl, firmly.  “But, unless mother forbids my going, I must seek him and bring him home.”

Kate turned her eyes full upon her mother’s face, as she said this, and, in an attitude of submission, awaited her reply.

“I think,” said Mrs. Ellis, after a long silence, “that little good will come of this; yet, I cannot say no.”

“Then I will find him and bring him home,” was the animated response of Kate.

“You must not go alone,” remarked Henry, taking up the cap he had a few minutes before laid off.

“Wait for supper.  It is all ready,” said Mrs. Ellis.  “Don’t go out until you have eaten something.”

“No time is to be lost, mother,” replied Kate.  “And, then, I haven’t the least appetite.”

“But your brother has been working hard all day, and is, of course, tired and hungry.”

“Oh, I forgot,” said Kate.  “But Henry needn’t go with me.  If he will only tell me exactly where I can find father, that will be enough.  I think I’d better see him alone.”

“Food would choke me now.”  Henry’s voice was husky and tremulous.  “Come, sister,” he added, after a pause, “if this work is done at all, it must be done quickly.”

Without a word more on either part, the brother and sister left the room, and started on their errand.

CHAPTER XXI.

Late in the afternoon of the day on which occurred the incidents mentioned in the preceding chapter, Mr. Wilkinson, who had entirely recovered from his embarrassed condition, and who was now a sober man in every sense of the word, as well as a thrifty merchant, was standing at one of the counters in his large, well filled store, when a miserable looking creature entered and came back to where he stood.

“Good-day, Mr. Wilkinson,” said the new-comer.

Surprise kept the merchant silent for some moments, when the other said—­

“You don’t know me, I presume.”

“Henry Ellis!” exclaimed Wilkinson.  “Is it possible you have fallen so low?”

“Just as you see me,” was replied.

“You ought to be more of a man than this.  You ought to have more strength of character,” said Wilkinson, giving utterance to the first thought that came into his mind.

“Oh, yes; it is easy to talk,” replied Ellis, with a slight impatience of manner.  “But you know my history as well almost as I know it myself.  I was driven to ruin.”

“How so?”

“Why do you ask the question?”

“You refer to your wife?”

“Of course I do.  She drove me to destruction.”

“That is a hard saying, Mr. Ellis.”