jiffy;" and the gleeful doctor departed on his
errand.

Sheldon paced the floor uneasily during his absence; but he was not kept
long in waiting. He soon heard steps descending the stairs and, whirling
a chair so as to give him but a side view of the entrance, sat down to
await their coming. The doors slid open, and he became aware of a light,
graceful figure, in a dark, crimson robe, leaning on the doctor's arm,
and approaching with fairy-like steps. The setting sun was throwing a
flood of radiance through the heavy folds of purple damask, and filling
the apartment with soft, dreamy light as they paused before him.

"I have the pleasure of presenting to you 'Woodland Winnie,' Mr.
Sheldon," said the doctor.

Sheldon raised his dark eyes slowly to the lady's face, and there, in
the genial light of that mild spring evening, stood Annie Evalyn. He
started as if an electric shock had shot through his frame. She trembled
and blushed, and the old doctor roared and shook with laughter at
Sheldon's speechless surprise; but the latter soon recovered himself and
greeted Annie with respectful cordiality, offering an apology for his
surprise, by saying he was not prepared to behold a former acquaintance
in the fair authoress. She returned his salutations with grace and ease,
while the doctor continued to laugh immoderately. So pleased was the old
gentleman with the part he had enacted in the scene, that he actually
consumed twelve oranges, and despatched a servant for a fresh supply.
Sheldon could not avoid stealing a glance at Annie as she sat on the
sofa before him. The dark chestnut curls were lifted away from the
expanding temples, and the delicate marble complexion, relieved by a
just perceptible tinge of rose on either cheek; while the beautifully
imaginative expression of the full blue eye, the curved lip and nostril
speaking the free, dauntless spirit, and the exquisite contour of the
light, graceful figure, yet somewhat taller and thinner than when he had
last seen her, all conspired to assure him it was no timid, shrinking
girl he beheld, but the lofty, talented, accomplished woman. Back came
the old love and admiration ten-fold stronger than ever. The doctor went
out to look after his oranges. There was a silence. It was growing
oppressive. He rose and approached the sofa.

"I have erred, Annie," he said, in a low, mellow tone, fraught with deep
sorrow and contrition.

"We are human, Frank," she answered, very softl