over
himself. This was only partial--not complete. Anna, on the contrary,
exhibited very few, if any signs of disturbance. She received him
with a warm, frank, cordial manner, that soon made him feel at
ease--it caused a pleasant glow in his bosom. As soon as they had
fairly entered into conversation, the young husband left them. His
presence had caused Westfield to experience some restraint; this
gave way as soon as he withdrew to another part of the room, and he
felt that no eye but an indifferent one was upon him. An hour passed
like a minute. When supper was announced, Westfield offered his arm
to conduct Anna to the refreshment room. She looked around for her
husband, and, not seeing him, accepted the attention. Just as they
were about leaving the parlour, Miller came up, and Westfield
offered to resign his wife to his care, but he politely declined
taking her from his arm. At supper, the husband and the former lover
seemed to vie with each other in their attention to Anna, who never
felt happier in her life. Why she experienced more pleasurable
feelings than usual, she did not pause to inquire. She was conscious
of being happy, and that was all.

From that time, Westfield became a regular visitor at the house of
Mr. Miller, with whom he was now more intimate than before. He came
and went without ceremony, and frequently spent hours with Anna
while her husband was away. This intimacy continued for two or three
years without attracting any attention from the social gossips who
infest every circle.

"It is high time you were married."

Or--

"Westfield, why don't you go more into company?"

Or--

"I really believe you are in love with Mrs. Miller."

Were laughing remarks often made by his friends, to which he always
made some laughing answer; but no one dreamed of thinking his
intimacy with Anna an improper one. He was looked upon as a warm
friend of both her husband and herself, and inclined to be something
of an "old bachelor." If she were seen at the theatre, or on the
street, with Westfield, it was looked upon almost as much a matter
of course as if she were with her husband. It is but fair to state,
that the fact of his ever having been an avowed lover was not known,
except to a very few. He had kept his own secret, and so had the
object of his misplaced affection.

No suspicion had ever crossed the generous mind of Miller, although
there were times when he felt that his friend was in the way, and