ully, yet unflinchingly, maintained her point.

At length Madam Cavendish yielded, saying, scornfully: "Well, my dear,
it is more your affair than mine. Invite her here if you will. I wash my
hands of it. Only don't ask me to be intimate with the inn-keeper's
widow; for I won't. And that's all about it."

"My dear grandma, you shall never see or hear of her, if you do not like
to do so. You seldom leave your two rooms. And she shall never enter
either unless you send for her," answered Emma.

"So be it then, my dear. And now let me go to sleep. I always want to
go to sleep after an argument," said Madam Cavendish, closing her eyes
and sinking back in her arm-chair.

Emma Cavendish stooped and kissed her, and then left the room.

In fifteen minutes after she had written and dispatched to the office at
Wendover a telegram to this effect:

"BLUE CLIFFS, April 29th, 18--

"DEAR AUNT:--Come home to me here as soon as possible. I will
write to-day. EMMA CAVENDISH."

And in the course of that day she did write a kind and comforting letter
to the bereaved and suffering woman, expressing much sympathy with her
in her affliction, inviting her to come and live at Blue Cliffs for the
rest of her life, and promising all that an affectionate niece could do
to make her life easy and pleasant.

Miss Cavendish had but just finished this letter, when Mr. Craven Kyte
was announced.

Emma, who was always kind to the ward of her late father, at once
received him and sent for Electra to help to entertain him.

But notwithstanding the presence of two beautiful girls, one the fairest
blonde, the other the brightest brunette, and both kind and affable in
their manners to him, the young man was restless and anxious, until at
length, with fierce blushes and faltering tones, he expressed a hope
that Mrs. Grey was well, and made an inquiry if she were in.

Electra laughed.

Emma told him that Mrs. Grey had gone for change of air to
Charlottesville, and would be absent for some time. She also
added--although the young man had not once thought of inquiring for Miss
Lytton--that Laura had likewise gone to visit her uncle's family at
Lytton Lodge.

The foolish young victim of the widow's false wiles looked very much
disappointed and depressed, yet had sense enough left him to remember to
say that, as he himself was on the road to Perch Point and should take
Lytton Lodge on his way, he would be happy to convey any letter or