ngings were scattered in every direction, was a letter lying on
the floor, and almost hidden beneath the bed. Picking it up, she was
surprised to find it sealed, and still more so to note that it was
addressed to Mr. Richard _Peveril_. How could that be? Was their guest
living among them under an assumed name? No, of course he wouldn't do
such a thing; and this letter must have been handed to him by mistake.
That was the reason why he had not opened it. The names were very much
alike in sound, though so differently spelled. Besides, this letter
was addressed in a lady's handwriting, and evidently came from some
foreign country. She knew Mr. Peril was an American, because he had
said so. He had also told them that he was, so far as he knew, without
a relative in the world, so there were no sisters or young lady
cousins to write to him.

She did not think he could be engaged, because he had never mentioned
the fact, while all the other young men of her acquaintance were in
the habit of talking very freely about their "best girls," if they
were so fortunate as to have such. Besides, had not Mr. Peril just
left his love for _her_, and a message to the effect that he had
something very important to tell _her_? She would keep this hateful
letter, though, and confront him with it the moment she saw him again.
Then his manner would convey the information she wanted. How she did
long to open it and just glance at its contents! The impulse to do
this was so strong that only by thrusting the letter into her pocket
could she resist it.

Now the innocent cause of her perplexity seemed to burn like a coal of
fire until she again drew it forth. A dozen times that day did she do
this, with the temptation to set her doubts at rest by tearing open
the sealed envelope always assailing her with increased force.
Finally, to her great relief, an honorable way of escaping this
temptation presented itself. She would return the horrid letter to the
post-office. From there, if it were indeed for Mr. Peril, he would in
due course of time receive it, as he had before; while, if it were
intended for some one else, it would be delivered to its rightful
owner. This plan was no sooner conceived than executed; and, as the
troublesome missive disappeared through the narrow slit of the
post-office letter-box, the girl heaved a sigh of relief.

When, the very next day, that identical letter was advertised on the
post-office bulletin, and Nelly Trefethe