s they all remembered afterward, holding out his
hand.

"Good-bye, Kate."

The hand she gave him was icy cold, her face perfectly colourless. The
cold fingers lingered around his for a moment; the deep, clear, violet
eyes were fixed wistfully on his face. That was her only good-bye--she
did not speak. In another moment he was out of the house; in another he
was riding rapidly down the avenue; in another he was gone--and forever.

CHAPTER XVI.

EPISTOLARY.

[From Madame Leblanc to Captain Danton.]

Quebec, May 17, 18--.

Dear Sir:--I write to you in the utmost distress and
confusion of mind. I hardly know how to break to you the news it is
my painful duty to reveal, lest some blame should attach itself to
me or mine, where I assure you none is deserved. Your daughter Rose
has left us--run away; in fact, I believe, eloped. I have reason to
think she was married yesterday; but to whom I have not yet
discovered. I beg to assure you, Captain Danton, that neither I nor
any one in my house had the remotest idea of her intention; and we
are all in the greatest consternation since the discovery has been
made. I would not for worlds such a thing had happened under my
roof, and I earnestly trust you will not hold me to blame.

Six days ago, on the afternoon of the 11th, your daughter arrived
here. We were all delighted to see her, Virginie in particular;
for, hearing of her approaching marriage with M. La Touche, we were
afraid she might not come. We all noticed a change in her--her
manner different from what it used to be--a languor, an apathy to
all things--a general listlessness that nothing could arouse her
from. She, who used to be so full of life and spirits, was now the
quietest in the house, and seemed to like nothing so well as being
by herself and dreaming the hours away. On the evening of the third
day this lassitude left her. She grew restless and nervous--almost
feverishly so. Next morning this feverish restlessness grew worse.
She refused to leave the house in the afternoon to accompany my
daughter on a shopping expedition. Her plea was toothache, and
Virginie went alone. The early afternoon post brought her what I
believe she was waiting for--a letter. She ran up with it to her
own room, which she did not leave until dusk. I was standing in the
entrance-ha