awaits me--the last great one."

"Moll, wheel forward that other easy-chair. Sit down at once, my poor
Katie. You look ready to drop from weakness. Emma, my child, pour out a
glass of that old port wine and bring it to your aunt. You will find it
in that little cabinet," said Madam Cavendish, speaking to one and
another in her hurry to be hospitable and to atone for the hard thoughts
she had cherished and expressed toward this poor suffering and desolate
woman.

And Mrs. Fanning was soon seated in the deep, soft "sleepy hollow," and
sipping with comfort the rich old port wine.

"Yes, Katie," said the old lady, resuming the thread of the
conversation, "that last great change awaits us all--a glorious change,
Katie, that I for one look forward to with satisfaction and desire
_always_--with rapture and longing _sometimes_. What will the next life
be like, I wonder? We don't know. 'Eye hath not seen--ear heard,'" mused
the old lady.

The interview was not a long one. Soon Emma Cavendish took her aunt from
the room.

"You must come in and see me every day, Katie, my dear," said the old
lady, as the two visitors left.

And from that time the desolate widow, the homeless wanderer, found
loving and tender friends, and a comfortable and quiet home.

CHAPTER XII.

ALDEN AND HIS EVIL GENIUS MEET AGAIN.

Meanwhile the visitors that had left Blue Cliffs that morning traveled
together until they reached Richmond.

The train got in at ten o'clock that night.

There was no steamboat to Mount Ascension Island until the next day.

So the party for that bourne were compelled to spend the night at
Richmond.

Alden, although he might have gone on to Charlottesville that night,
determined to remain with his friends.

The whole party went to the Henrico House, where they were accommodated
with adjoining rooms.

The next morning they resumed their journey, separating to go their
several ways. Alden saw the two young ladies safely on the steamboat
that was to take them to Mount Ascension, and then bade them good-bye,
leaving them in charge of the Rev. Dr. Jones, who was to escort them to
the end of their journey.

He had barely time to secure his seat for Charlottesville, where he
arrived on the afternoon of the same day.

The letter he had to deliver to Mary Grey "burned in his pocket." He
could not have done otherwise than promise to deliver it in person, when
fair Emma Cavendish had requested him to do so. And