ouse that afternoon to secure
rooms for himself and wife, and then at an earlier hour than usual went
home to tell her of the arrangement. Katy was out shopping, Esther said,
and had not yet returned, adding: "There is a note for her upstairs,
left by a woman who insisted on seeing the house, until I took her over
it, showing her every room."

"A strange woman went over my house in Mrs. Cameron's absence! Who was
it?" Wilford asked, hastily, visions of Helen, or possibly Aunt Betsy,
rising before his mind.

"She said she was a friend of Mrs. Cameron, and that she knew she would
allow the liberty," Esther replied, thus confirming Wilford in his
suspicions that some country acquaintance had thrust herself upon them,
and hastening up to Katy's room, where the note was lying, he took it up
and examined the superscription, examined it closely, holding it up to
the light full a minute, and forgetting to open it in his perplexity and
the train of thought it awakened.

"They are singularly alike," he said, and still holding the note in his
hand he went downstairs to the library, and opening a drawer of his
writing desk, which was always kept locked, he took from it a picture
and a bit of soiled paper, on which was written: "I am not guilty,
Wilford, and God will never forgive the wrong you have done to me."

There was no name or date, but Wilford needed neither, for he knew well
whose hand had penned those lines, and he sat looking at them, comparing
them at last with the "Mrs. Wilford Cameron" which the strange woman had
written. Then opening the note, he read that, having returned to New
York, and wishing employment either as seamstress or dressmaker, Marian
Hazelton had ventured to call upon Mrs. Cameron, remembering her promise
to give her work if she should desire it. The note concluded by saying:

"I am sure you will pardon me for the liberty I took of going over the
house. It was a temptation I could not resist. You have a delightful
home. God grant you may be happy in it. You see I have also made bold
to write this in your library, for which I beg pardon,

"Yours truly, MARIAN HAZELTON,

"No. ---- Fourth St., 4th floor, N.Y."

"Who is Marian Hazelton?" Wilford asked himself as he threw down the
missive. "Some of Katy's country friends, I dare say. Seems to me I have
heard that name. She certainly writes as Genevra did, except that this
Hazelton's is more decided and firm. Poor Genevra!"

There was a pallor abo