hink of you as a brother would think of an only and
darling sister."

This letter produced a strange effect upon Mary. She thought how much
she was indebted to one who had stood so faithfully by her when all
the world was dark and dreary. She thought, too, of his kindness to
the dead, and that appealed more strongly to her sympathy than aught
else he had ever done for her. There was no one to advise her, and
acting upon the impulse of the moment, she sat down and commenced a
letter, the nature of which she did not understand herself, and which
if sent, would have given a different coloring to the whole of her
after life. She had written but one page, when the study bell rang,
and she was obliged to put her letter by till the morrow. For several
days she had not been well, and the excitement produced by Billy's
letter tended to increase her illness, so that on the following
morning when she attempted to rise, she found herself seriously ill.
During the hours in which she was alone that day, she had ample time
for reflection, and before night she wrote another letter to Billy, in
which she told him how impossible it was for her to be the wife of one
whom she had always loved as an own, and dear brother. This letter
caused Mary so much effort, and so many bitter tears, that for several
days she continued worse, and at last gave up all hope of being
present at the examination.

"Oh it's too bad," said Ida, "for I _do_ want you to see Cousin
George, and I know he'll be disappointed too, for I never saw any
thing like the interest he seems to take in you."

A few days afterwards as Mary was lying alone, thinking of Billy, and
wondering if she had done right in writing to him as she did, Jenny
came rushing in wild with delight.

Her father was down stairs, together with Ida's father George, and
Aunt Martha. "Most the first thing I did," said she, "was to inquire
after Billy Bender! I guess Aunt Martha was shocked, for she looked so
_queer_. George laughed, and Mr. Selden said he was doing well, and
was one of the finest young men in Boston. But why don't you ask about
George? I heard him talking about you to Rose, just as I left the
parlor."

Mary felt sure that any information of her which Rose might give would
not be very complimentary, and she thought right; for when Rose was
questioned concerning "Miss Howard," she at first affected her
ignorance of such a person; and then when George explained himself
more definite