stood
before her once more. "I did answer it, Emily. Out of the fulness of my
heart--and how full it was I cannot tell you now--I answered your
letter; but you, Emily, you never answered mine."

"Indeed I never received it."

It was some minutes after this announcement ere either was able to
speak, but at last Mr. Dalton exclaimed, "Oh how I have wronged you?
Emily, at this instant I catch, as it were, at the bottom of a dark gulf
a glimpse of the evil of my nature. I begin to believe that I have
cherished a devil in my bosom, and called it by the name of a good
angel. Emily, if I am not too old to improve, you will have been the
instrument of my improvement. I do not ask you to forgive me, generous
woman, because I feel that you have already done so."

Mrs. Beauchamp felt what it must have cost the proud man to make this
acknowledgment, and she honored him for the effort. "We have both been
to blame," she said, "and therefore stand in need of mutual forgiveness.
But it would be idle now to lament the past; rather let us rejoice that
our friendship, re-established on the firm basis of perfect confidence,
is cemented by the union of our dear children."

Mr. Dalton only answered by offering her his arm, with the kind and
familiar politeness of an old friend, as she looked a little fatigued,
and they walked together some distance in silence. At last Mrs.
Beauchamp inquired, "Was Fanny's mother like herself?"

"No, Emily. My poor dead Fanny," and his voice trembled slightly, "was
very sweet and amiable, but not at all like my living one."

"Your marriage was happy then? I am glad of that."

"I should have been the most ungrateful of men had it not been so; and
yours too, Emily I hope"----

He stopt, he hardly knew why, while, with her eyes fixed on the ground,
she answered slowly, "I am happy, very happy now!"

A feeling of profound respect and admiration held Mr. Dalton silent for
a few seconds, and then he said, in the tone of one who expresses an
earnest conviction, "You are the most noble minded woman I ever knew."

Mrs. Beauchamp made no answer, and it was not till they stood together
in the hall, that she said in her natural tone of kind and calm
cheerfulness, "And now, Mr. Dalton, let us look for Edmund and Fanny;
and if you please, in order that they may learn of our mistakes that
trust is the nobler part of love, we shall tell them this story of THE
LOST LETTER."

LIFE AT A WATERING-PLACE.

THE