you do this afternoon?"

"Whatever you please, my own."

"I could get away by four."

"Then I will stay at home for you."

He left her reluctantly, and she followed him to the head of the
stairs, and hung over the balusters as if she would like to fly after
him.

He turned at the street-door, saw that radiant and gentle face beaming
after him, and they kissed hands to each other by one impulse, as if
they were parting for ever so long.

He had gone scarcely half an hour when a letter, addressed to her, was
left at the door by a private messenger.

"Any answer?" inquired the servant.

"No."

The letter was sent up, and delivered to her on a silver salver.

She opened it; it was a thing new to her in her young life--an
anonymous letter.

"MISS BRUCE--I am almost a stranger to you, but I know your character
from others, and cannot bear to see you abused. You are said to be
about to marry Sir Charles Bassett. I think you can hardly be aware
that he is connected with a lady of doubtful repute, called Somerset,
and neither your beauty nor your virtue has prevailed to detach him
from that connection.

"If, on engaging himself to you, he had abandoned her, I should not
have said a word. But the truth is, he visits her constantly, and I
blush to say that when he leaves you this day it will be to spend the
afternoon at her house.

"I inclose you her address, and you can learn in ten minutes whether I
am a slanderer or, what I wish to be,

"A FRIEND OF INJURED INNOCENCE."

CHAPTER V.

SIR CHARLES was behind his time in Mayfair; but the lawyer and his
clerk had not arrived, and Miss Somerset was not visible.

She appeared, however, at last, in a superb silk dress, the broad
luster of which would have been beautiful, only the effect was broken
and frittered away by six rows of gimp and fringe. But why blame her?
This is a blunder in art as universal as it is amazing, when one
considers the amount of apparent thought her sex devotes to dress. They
might just as well score a fair plot of velvet turf with rows of box,
or tattoo a blooming and downy cheek.

She held out her hand, like a man, and talked to Sir Charles on
indifferent topics, till Mr. Oldfield arrived. She then retired into
the background, and left the gentlemen to discuss the deed. When
appealed to, she evaded direct replies, and put on languid and imperial
indifference. When she signed, it was with the air of some princess
bestowing a