It was lying on Anna's table as she reached the door on her way to her

own room, and, pausing for a moment, she entered the chamber, took it

in her hands, read the title page, and then opened it to where the

letter lay.

"Miss Anna Ruthven," she said. "He writes a fair hand;" and then, as

the thought, which at first was scarce a thought, kept growing in her

mind, she turned it over, and found that, owing to some defect, it had

become unsealed and the lid of the envelope lay temptingly open before

her. "I would never break a seal," she said, "but surely, as her

protector and almost mother, I may read what this minister has written

to my niece."

She read what he had written, while a scowl of disapprobation marred

the smoothness of her brow.

"It is as I feared. Once let her see this, and Thornton Hastings may

woo in vain. But it shall not be. It is my duty as the sister of her

dead father, to interfere and not let her throw herself away."

Perhaps Mrs. Meredith really felt that she was doing her duty. At all

events, she did not give herself much time to reason upon the matter,

for, startled by a slight movement in the room directly opposite, the

door of which was ajar, she thrust the letter into her pocket and

turned to see--Valencia, standing with her back to her, and arranging

her hair in a mirror which hung upon the wall.

"She could not have seen me; and, even if she did, she would not

suspect the truth," was the guilty woman's thought, as, with the

stolen missive in her pocket, she went down to the parlor and tried,

by petting Anna more than her wont, to still the voice of conscience

which clamored loudly of the wrong, and urged a restoration of the

letter to the place whence it was taken.

But the golden moment fled, and when, later in the evening, Anna went

up to her chamber and opened the book which the rector had brought,

she never suspected how near she had been to the great happiness she

had sometimes dared to hope for, or dreamed how fervently Arthur

Leighton prayed that night that, if it were possible, God would grant

the boon he craved above all others--the priceless gift of Anna

Ruthven's love.




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