id I attempt any reconciliation, for the very good reason that I
wished for none.

Soon after our dispute I found upon my plate at breakfast, one morning,
a letter directed in a bold though unformed hand, which I recognized as
Stella's:

"DEAR MAY,--I dare say Adelaide will be writing to you, but I will
take time by the forelock, so to speak, and give you my views on
the subject first.

"There is news, strange to say that there is some news to tell you.
I shall give it without making any remarks. I shall not say whether
I think it good, bad, or indifferent. Adelaide is engaged to Sir
Peter Le Marchant. It was only made known two days ago. Adelaide
thinks he is in love with her. What a strange mistake for her to
make! She thinks she can do anything with him. Also a monstrous
misapprehension on her part. Seriously, May, I am rather
uncomfortable about it, or should be, if it were any one else but
Adelaide. But she knows so remarkably well what she is about, that
perhaps, after all, my fears are needless. And yet--but it is no
use speculating about it--I said I wouldn't.

"She is a queer girl. I don't know how she can marry Sir Peter, I
must say. I suppose he is awfully rich, and Adelaide has always
said that poverty was the most horrible thing in the world. I don't
know, I'm sure. I should be inclined to say that Sir Peter was the
most horrible thing in the world. Write soon, and tell me what you
think about it.

"Thine, speculatively,
"STELLA WEDDERBURN."

I did not feel surprise at this letter. Foreboding, grief, shame, I did
experience at finding that Adelaide was bent upon her own misery. But
then, I reflected, she can not be very sensible to misery, or she would
not be able to go through with such a purpose. I went upstairs to
communicate this news to Miss Hallam. Soon the rapid movement of events
in my own affairs completely drove thoughts of Adelaide for a time, at
least, out of my mind.

Miss Hallam received the information quietly and with a certain
contemptuous indifference. I knew she did not like Adelaide, and I spoke
of her as seldom as possible.

I took up some work, glancing at the clock, for I expected von Francius
soon to give me my lesson, and Miss Hallam sat still. I had offered to
read to her, and she had declined. I glanced at her now and then. I ha