ommunity at Sandyseal.

She addressed the Mother Superior; telling the truth about herself with
but one concealment, the concealment of names. She revealed her isolated
position among her fellow-creatures; she declared her fervent desire to
repent of her wickedness, and to lead a religious life; she acknowledged
her misfortune in having been brought up by persons careless of
religion, and she confessed to having attended a Protestant place of
worship, as a mere matter of form connected with the duties of a teacher
at a school. "The religion of any Christian woman who will help me to
be more like herself," she wrote, "is the religion to which I am willing
and eager to belong. If I come to you in my distress, will you receive
me?" To that simple appeal, she added a request that an answer might be
addressed to "S.W., Post-office, Sandyseal."

When Captain Bennydeck and Sydney Westerfield passed each other as
strangers, in the hall of the hotel, that letter had been posted in
London a week since.

The servant showed "Mr. and Mrs. Herbert" into their sitting-room, and
begged that they would be so good as to wait for a few minutes, while
the other rooms were being prepared for them.

Sydney seated herself in silence. She was thinking of her letter, and
wondering whether a reply was waiting for her at the post-office.

Moving toward the window to look at the view, Herbert paused to examine
some prints hanging on the walls, which were superior as works of art to
the customary decorations of a room at a hotel. If he had gone straight
to the window he might have seen his divorced wife, his child, and his
wife's mother, getting into the carriage which took them to the railway
station.

"Come, Sydney," he said, "and look at the sea."

She joined him wearily, with a faint smile. It was a calm, sunny day.
Bathing machines were on the beach; children were playing here and
there; and white sails of pleasure boats were visible in the offing. The
dullness of Sandyseal wore a quiet homely aspect which was pleasant to
the eyes of strangers. Sydney said, absently, "I think I shall like the
place." And Herbert added: "Let us hope that the air will make you feel
stronger." He meant it and said it kindly--but, instead of looking at
her while he spoke, he continued to look at the view. A woman sure of
her position would not have allowed this trifling circumstance, even if
she had observed it, to disturb her. Sydney thought of the day