tfully
undressed and placed him in bed, there was nothing for Adah to do but
think. She should go away, of course; she could not stay there longer;
but how should she tell them why she went, and who would be her medium
for communication?

"Anna, of course," she whispered; and lighting her little lamp, she sat
down to write the letter which would tell Anna Richards who was the
waiting maid to whom she had been so kind.

"Dear Anna," she wrote. "Forgive me for calling you so this once, for
indeed I cannot help it. You have been so kind to me that if my heart
could ache, it would ache terribly at leaving you and knowing it was
forever. I am going away from you, Anna; and when, in the morning, you
wait for me to come as usual, I shall not be here, I could not stay and
meet your brother when he returns. Oh, Anna, Anna, how shall I begin to
tell you what I know will grieve and shock your pure nature so
dreadfully?

"Anna!--I love to call you Anna now, for you seem, near to me; and
believe me, while I write this to you, I am conscious of no feeling of
inferiority to any one bearing your proud name. I am, or should have
been, your equal, your sister; and Willie!--oh, my boy, when I think of
him, the feeling comes and I almost seem to be going mad!

"Cannot you guess?--don't you know now who I am? God forgive your
brother, as I asked him to do, kneeling there by the very chair where he
sat an hour since, talking to you of Lily. I heard him, and the sound of
his voice took power and strength away. I could not move to let you know
I was there, for I was, and I lay upon the floor till consciousness
forsook me; and then, when I awoke again, you both were gone.

"I went to the depot, I saw him in his face to make assurance sure, and
Anna, I--oh, I don't know what I am. The world would not call me a wife,
though I believed I was; but they cannot deal thus cruelly by Willie, or
wash from his veins his father's blood, for I--I, who write this, I who
have been a servant in the house where I should have been the mistress,
am Lily--wronged, deserted Lily--and Willie is your brother's child! His
father's look is in his face. I see it there so plainly now, and know
why that boy portrait of your brother has puzzled me so much. But when I
came here I had no suspicion, for he won me, not as a Richards--George
Hastings, that was the name by which I knew him, and I was Adah Gordon.
If you do not believe me, ask him when he comes back if ever