, who insists on seeing you; she has been
waiting through half the last piece. Shall I tell her you are coming
out?"

"A woman!" exclaimed I, somewhat surprised, for my visitors are not apt
to be of the gentler sex.

"Yes sir, an old one. She seems very anxious to speak to you. I could
not get rid of her no how."

I hurried forward to the muffled figure which he pointed out cowering
against the wall by the door. "Well, my good woman, what do you want?" I
asked, bending towards her in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the
face she held partly concealed from me.

"Are you Mr. Mandeville?" she inquired in a tone shaken as much by
agitation as age.

I bowed.

"The one who plays upon the piano?"

"The very same," I declared.

"You are not deceiving me," she went on, looking up with a marked
anxiety plainly visible through her veil. "I haven't seen you play and
couldn't contradict you, but--"

"Here!" said I calling to Briggs with a kindly look at the old woman,
"help me on with my coat, will you?"

The "Certainly, Mr. Mandeville," with which he complied seemed to
reassure her, and as soon as the coat was on and he was gone, she
grasped me by the arm and drew my ear down to her mouth.

"If you are Mr. Mandeville, I have a message for you. This letter,"
slipping one into my hand, "is from a young lady, sir. She bade me give
it to you myself. She is young and pretty," she pursued as she saw me
make a movement of distaste, "and a lady. We depend upon your honor,
sir."

I acknowledge that my first impulse was to fling her back the note and
leave the building; I was in no mood for trifling, my next to burst into
a laugh and politely hand her to the door, my last and best, to open the
poor little note and see for myself whether the writer was a lady or
not. Proceeding to the door, for it was already twilight in the dim
passage way, I tore open the envelope which was dainty enough and took
out a sheet of closely written paper. A certain qualm of conscience
assailed me as I saw the delicate chirography it disclosed and I was
tempted to thrust it back and return it unread to the old woman now
trembling in the corner. But curiosity overcame my scruples, and hastily
unfolding the sheet I read these lines:

"I do not know if what I do is right; I am sure aunty would not
say it was; but aunty never thinks anything is right but going
to church and reading the papers to papa. I am just a little
girl w