n the case," replied Mrs.
Denison. "I have heard no reason assigned that to me had any
appearance of truth."

"Had he failed in business?" asked Miss Loring.

"No. He was in a good business, and accumulating property. But he
sold out, and converting all that he was worth into money, took it
with him, and left only his memory behind."

"Had he trouble with any one?"

"No."

Jessie looked concerned--almost sad.

"I would like to know the reason." She spoke partly to herself.

"I alone am in possession of the reason," said Mrs. Denison, after a
silence of more than a minute.

"You!"

Thrown off her guard, Jessie spoke eagerly and with surprise.

"Yes. He wrote me a letter at the time, stating in the clearest
terms the causes which led to so strange a course of conduct.

"Did you approve of his reasons?" Miss Loring had regained much of
her usual calm exterior.

"I accepted them," was answered. "Under all the circumstances of the
case, his course was probably the wisest that could have been
taken."

"Are you at liberty to state the reasons?" asked Miss Loring.

Mrs. Denison thought for some time.

"Do you desire to hear them?" she then asked, looking steadily into
the face of her visitor.

"I do," was firmly answered.

"Then I will place his letter to me in your hands. But not now. When
you leave, it will be time enough. You must read it alone."

A sudden gleam shot across the face of Jessie. But it died like a
transient meteor.

"I will return home now, Mrs. Denison," she said, with a manner that
showed a great deal of suppressed feeling. "You will excuse me, of
course."

"Cannot you remain longer? I shall regret your going," said her kind
friend.

"Not in my present state of mind. I can see from your manner that I
have an interest in the contents of that letter, and I am impatient
to know them."

It was all in vain that Jessie Loring sought to calm her feelings as
she returned homeward with the letter of Paul Hendrickson held
tightly in her hand. The suspense was too much for her. On entering
the house of her aunt, she went with unusual haste to her own room,
and without waiting to lay aside any of her attire, sat down and
opened the letter. There was scarcely a sign of life while she read,
so motionless did she sit, as if pulsation were stilled. After
reading it to the last word she commenced folding up the letter, but
her hands, that showed a slight tremor in the beginning, shook so
viol