th Mrs. Denison, she received
a communication from Hendrickson that filled her with painful
surprise. It ran thus:

"MY BEST FRIEND:--When this comes into your hands, I shall be away
from B--. It is possible that I may never return again. I do not
take this step hastily, but after deep reflection, and in the firm
conviction that I am right. If I remain, the probabilities are that
I shall meet Jessie Loring, who will come forth gradually from her
seclusion; and I am not strong enough, nor cold enough for that. Nor
do I think our meeting would make the stream of her life more
placed. It has run in wild waves long enough--the waters have been
turbid long enough--and mine is not the hand to swirl it with a
single eddy. No--no. My love, I trust, is of purer essence. I would
bless, not curse--brighten, not cloud the horizon of her life.

"And so I recede as she comes forth into the open day, and shall
hide myself from her sight. As she advances by self denials and holy
charities towards celestial purity, may I advance also, fast enough
at least not to lose sight of her in the far off distance.

"You will meet her often, from this time, dear, true, faithful
friend! And I pray you to keep my memory green in her heart. Not
with such bold reference as shall disturb its tranquil life. Oh, do
not give her pain! But with gentle insinuations; so that the thought
of me have no chance to die. I will keep unspotted from the world;
yet will I not withdraw myself, but manfully take my place and do
battle for the right.

"And now, best of friends, farewell! I go out into the great world,
to be absorbed from observation in the crowd. But my heart will
remain among the old places, and beat ever faithful to its early
loves.

"PAUL HENDRICKSON."

He had withdrawn himself from all business connections, and sold his
property. With his small fortune, realized by active, intelligent
industry, and now represented by Certificates of Deposit in three of
the city banks, he vanished from among those who had known and
respected him for years, and left not a sign of the direction he had
taken. Even idle rumor, so usually unjust, did him no wrong. He had
been, in all his actions, too true a man for even suspicion to touch
his name.

CHAPTER XXVII.

As Hendrickson had rightly supposed, Jessie Loring came forth from
her seclusion of years. Not all at once, but by gradual intrusions
upon the social life around her. At first she went a