ays, and then return here and remain at home for the present. Will
seems almost like a boy in his happiness, while Margie is sweeter and
prettier than ever. Of course we are all delighted, for we have always
been so pleased at the prospect of the match, though I was afraid for a
little while that something might happen. I feared there had been some
nonsense when William was in America for I came across the photograph of
the loveliest face I ever saw, one day, while looking over and arranging
his wardrobe after his return. But the old saying proves true--'All's well
that ends well,' and I trust there is a brilliant future for the master of
Heathdale."

There was more pertaining to family matters, which Mrs. Farnum thought
best to omit after stealing a look at Virgie.

Her face was frightful to behold, and for a moment the woman was
positively alarmed at the result of her work.

She sat like a statue, scarce seeming to breathe; there was not the
slightest color in her face or lips, and the expression of agony about her
mouth reveiled something of the fearful suffering she was enduring, while
there was a look in her eyes which her companion never forgot.

She did not move for several minutes after Mrs. Farnum ceased reading; it
was as if she had suddenly been turned to stone, and was oblivious of
everything.

Mrs. Farnum was awed by her appearance, and hardly dared to speak to her,
lest, in breaking the spell, the girl should drop dead at her feet.

But all at once Virgie started; some thought seemed to have come to
her--something that made her doubt that the dreadful tidings to which she
had listened were true.

The letter had spoken of "Will" and "William," to be sure, and she had
every reason to suppose that it had referred to the man whom she had
believed to be her husband--still there might be a mistake. She grasped at
the straw with the eagerness of a drowning man.

"Of whom is Lady Linton speaking in her letter, as having been--married?"
she demanded, in a hollow voice, and fixing her burning eyes upon her
companion's face.

"Why, of William Heath, of course," returned Mrs. Farnum, greatly relieved
to hear her speak once more, "and I have known him all my life. I used to
visit at Heathdale a great deal before Lady Linton's marriage, and he was
always a favorite of mine. He was a bright, manly fellow, and his friends
have planned great things for him. I--I can hardly credit what you have
told me to-day. I d