indly holding her
thin hand.

"Is your wedding to come off so soon?" she inquired.

"Yes, in a few weeks, and then we are to go to Europe for a short
holiday, and afterward take a house in the city here," said Alden,
smiling.

"I wish you every joy in your wedded life. And now, Mr. Lytton, you must
let me go," she said, wearily.

"One moment. You do not write to Emma often, do you? I ask because only
a week ago, in one of her letters to me, Miss Cavendish wrote that she
had not heard from you for nearly three months, and requested me to find
out your address, if possible. I wrote back in reply that I believed you
to be at the Ladies' College, in Philadelphia," he said, still detaining
her hand.

"I am a bad correspondent. My hand is still lame. Just before I left
here for Philadelphia I sent Miss Cavendish an acknowledgment of the
last quarterly sum she sent me. I told her then that I was about to go
to Philadelphia on particular business. I have not written to her
since."

"And that was nearly three months ago. That is just what the matter is.
She wishes to find out your address, so as to know where to send the
next quarterly instalment of your income, which will soon be due."

"Tell her that I have returned to this city, and that my address is the
same as that to which she last wrote."

"I will; but do you write to her also. I know she is anxious to hear
directly from you."

"I will do so," she replied; "though I am the worst possible
correspondent. Now good-day, Mr. Lytton."

"If I may not call to see you, at least I hope that you will let me know
if ever I can serve you in any manner," he said, gently, as he pressed
the pale hand he had held so long and relinquished it.

They parted then, and saw no more of each other for some days.

Alden went on his office, full of pity for the failing woman, who, he
said to himself, could not possibly have many months to live.

But his feelings of painful compassion were soon forgotten in his
happiness in finding a letter from Emma Cavendish lying with his
business correspondence on his desk.

There was really nothing more in it than appeared in just such letters
that he received two or three times a week; only she told him that she
had written to Mrs. Grey at the Ladies' College, Philadelphia, and had
not received any answer to her letter.

Before doing any other business, Alden Lytton took a half-quire of
note-paper and dashed off an exuberant letter to his