indeed, that Mr.
Graham had presented her with Vesta, but was there anything wrong in
that? She did not think so, else she had never taken her. Her
uncle, her cousin, and Durward, all three approved of her accepting
it, the latter coming with it himself--so it could not be that; and
for a long time Lena wept passionately, resolving one moment to
answer the letter as it deserved determining, the next, to go herself
and see Mrs. Graham face to face; and then concluding to treat it
with silent contempt, trusting that Durward would erelong appear and
make it all plain between them.

At last, about five o'clock, Mabel returned, bringing the
intelligence that Mrs. Graham was in the city, at the Weisiger House,
where she was going to remain until the morrow. She had met with an
accident, which prevented her arrival in Frankfort until the train
which she was desirous of taking had left.

"Is her husband with her?" asked 'Lena, to which Mabel replied, that
she understood she was alone.

"Then I'll see her and know what she means," thought 'Lena,
trembling, even then, at the idea of venturing into the presence of
the cold, haughty woman.

* * * * * *

Supper was over at the Weisiger House, and in a handsome private
parlor Mrs. Graham lay, half asleep, upon the sofa, while in the
dressing-room adjoining Durward sat, trying to frame a letter which
should tell poor 'Lena that their intimacy was forever at an end.
For hours, and until the last gleam of daylight had faded away, he
had sat by the window, watching each youthful form which passed up
and, down the busy street, hoping to catch a glimpse of her who once
had made his world. But his watch was in vain, and now he had sat
down to write, throwing aside sheet after sheet, as he thought its
beginning too cold, too harsh, or too affectionate. He was about
making up his mind not to write at all, but to let matters take their
course, when a knock at his mother's door, and the announcement that
a lady wished to see her arrested his attention.

"Somebody want to see me? Just show her up," said Mrs. Graham,
smoothing down her flaxen hair, and wiping from between her eyes a
spot of powder which the opposite mirror revealed.

In a moment the visitor entered--a slight, girlish form, whose
features were partially hidden from view by a heavy lace veil, which
was thrown over her satin hood. A single glance convinced Mrs.
Graham that it was a lad