h
from this day I do not come to you for my reward, Ebenezer Gryce is not
the man I have always taken him to be."

"And Eleanore?"

"We will mention no names," said he, gently waving his hand to and fro.

A few minutes later, I left the house with Miss Leavenworth, she having
expressed a wish to have me accompany her to the home of her friend,
Mrs. Gilbert, with whom she had decided to take refuge. As we rolled
down the street in the carriage Mr. Gryce had been kind enough to
provide for us, I noticed my companion cast a look of regret behind her,
as if she could not help feeling some compunctions at this desertion of
her cousin.

But this expression was soon changed for the alert look of one who
dreads to see a certain face start up from some unknown quarter.
Glancing up and down the street, peering furtively into doorways as
we passed, starting and trembling if a sudden figure appeared on the
curbstone, she did not seem to breathe with perfect ease till we had
left the avenue behind us and entered upon Thirty-seventh Street. Then,
all at once her natural color returned and, leaning gently toward me,
she asked if I had a pencil and piece of paper I could give her. I
fortunately possessed both. Handing them to her, I watched her with some
little curiosity while she wrote two or three lines, wondering she could
choose such a time and place for the purpose.

"A little note I wish to send," she explained, glancing at the almost
illegible scrawl with an expression of doubt. "Couldn't you stop the
carriage a moment while I direct it?"

I did so, and in another instant the leaf which I had torn from my
note-book was folded, directed, and sealed with a stamp which she had
taken from her own pocket-book.

"That is a crazy-looking epistle," she muttered, as she laid it,
direction downwards, in her lap.

"Why not wait, then, till you arrive at your destination, where you can
seal it properly, and direct it at your leisure?"

"Because I am in haste. I wish to mail it now. Look, there is a box on
the corner; please ask the driver to stop once more."

"Shall I not post it for you?" I asked, holding out my hand.

But she shook her head, and, without waiting for my assistance, opened
the door on her own side of the carriage and leaped to the ground. Even
then she paused to glance up and down the street, before venturing to
drop her hastily written letter into the box. But when it had left her
hand, she looked brighter an