a sentimental
correspondence with her--informing her of the visit of Mr. and Mrs.
Alden Lytton, the bride and bridegroom from Blue Cliffs, who stopped for
a day in the city on their way to New York.

Immediately on her receipt of this letter she returned to Richmond and
to the house of the Misses Crane.

And she very much surprised and shocked these ladies by assuming an air
of grief and distraction as extreme in itself as it was unaccountable to
them.

They could not even imagine what was the matter with her. She refused to
give any explanation of her apparent mental anguish, and she repelled
all sympathy.

The Misses Crane were afraid she was going to lose her reason.

They went to see the minister and the minister's wife on the subject.
They found only the lady at home. And to her they stated the mysterious
case.

"There is something very heavy on her mind, my dear. I am sure there is
something awful on her mind."

"There has been this long time, I think," said the minister's wife.

"Yes, I know; but it is a thousand times worse now. My dear, she keeps
her room nearly all day. She never comes to the table. If I send her
meals up to her they come back almost untasted. And I assure you she
does not sleep any better than she eats. Her room is over mine, and so I
can hear her walking the floor half the night," said Miss Romania Crane.

"What can be the cause of her distress?" inquired the rector's lady.

"I don't know. I can't get her to tell me. She only says that 'her life
is wrecked forever, and that she wishes only to be left to herself until
death shall relieve her.' And all that sort of talk," said Miss Romania.

"And have you no suspicion?"

"None in the world that seems at all rational. The only one I have seems
foolish."

"But what is it?"

"Well, I sometimes think--but indeed it is a silly thought--that her
distress is in some way connected with the marriage of Mr. Lytton and
Miss Cavendish, for I notice that every time the name of either of them
is mentioned she grows so much worse that I and my sister have ceased
ever to speak of them."

"It can not be that she was ever in love with Mr. Lytton," suggested the
minister's lady.

"I should think not. I should think she was not that weak-minded sort of
woman to give way to such sentiment, much less to be made so extremely
wretched by it. For I do tell you, my dear, her state is simply that of
the utmost mental wretchedness."

"I will ask m