ast letter over daily until I get a new one. You insist upon my
telling you how I am getting on, and whether I am out of money. I
am doing quite well, ma'am, and have some funds left! I have quite
a considerable practice. It is true that my professional services
are in request only among the very poor, who pay me with their
thanks and good wishes. But I am very glad to be able to pay off a
small part of the great debt of gratitude I owe to the benevolent
of this world by doing all that I can in my turn for the needy. And
even if I had never myself been the object of a good man's
benevolence, I should still have desired to serve the indigent;
"for whoso giveth to the poor lendeth to the Lord," and I "like the
security." Therefore, sweet mother of mine, be at ease; for I am
getting on swimmingly--with one exception. Still I do not hear from
our Clara! Six months have now passed, during which, despite of her
seeming silence, I have written to her every week; but not one
letter or message have I received from her in return! And now you
tell me also that you have not received a single letter from her
either! I know not what to think. Anxiety upon her account is my
one sole trouble! Not that I wrong the dear girl by one instant's
doubt of her constancy--no! my soul upon her truth! if I could do
that, I should be most unworthy of her love! No, mother, you and I
know that Clara is true! But ah! we do not know to what sufferings
she may be subjected by Le Noir, who I firmly believe has
intercepted all our letters. Mother, I am about to ask a great,
perhaps an unreasonable, favor of you! It is to go down into the
neighborhood of the Hidden House and make inquiries and try to find
out Clara's real condition. If it be possible, put yourself into
communication with her, and tell her that I judge her heart by my
own, and have the firmest faith in her constancy, even though I
have written to her every week for six months without ever having
received an answer. I feel that I am putting you to expense and
trouble, but my great anxiety about Clara, which I am sure you
share, must be my excuse. I kiss your dear and honored hands, and
remain ever your loving son and faithful servant.

TRAVERSE ROCKE.

"I must try to go. It will be an awful expense, because I know no on