ch comes but once to women, and since she must bury it for
ever, was it not right that she should dedicate her life to promoting
Mr. Lindsay's happiness? Next to her mother, did she not owe him more
than any other human being?

As she sat leaning upon Mr. Palma's desk, she saw his handkerchief
near the inkstand, where he had dropped it early that morning; and
taking it up, she drew it caressingly across her check and lips.
Everything in this room, where since her residence in New York she
had been accustomed to see him, grew sacred from association with
him, and all that he touched was strangely dear.

For two hours she sat there, very quiet, weighing the past,
considering the future; and at last she slowly resolved upon her
course.

She would write that night to her mother, enclose Mr. Lindsay's
letter, and if her mother's permission could be obtained, she would
give her hand to Douglass, and in his love forget the brief madness
that now made her so wretched.

From the date of the postscript she discovered that the letter had
been delayed _en route_, and computing the time from Yokohama to San
Francisco, according to information given by Mr. Chesley, she found
that unless some unusual detention had occurred, the vessel in which
Mr. and Mrs. Lindsay intended to sail should have already reached
California.

Mr. Palma's jest relative to India was explained; and evidently he
had not sufficient interest in her decision even to pause and ask it.
Knowing the contents, he had with cold indifference carried the
letter for two days in his pocket, and handed it to her just as he
was departing.

She imagined him sitting in the car, beside Mrs. Carew, admiring her
beauty, perhaps uttering in her ear tender vows, never breathed by
his lips to any other person; while she--the waif, the fatherless,
nameless, obscure young girl--sat there alone desperately fighting
the battle of destiny.

Bitter as was this suggestion of her aching heart, it brought
strength; and rising, she laid aside the handkerchief, and quitted
the apartment that babbled ceaselessly of its absent master.

Among some precious souvenirs of her mother she kept the package
which had been given to her by Mr. Lindsay with the request that it
should remain unopened until her eighteenth birthday; and how she
unlocked the small ebony box that contained her few treasures.

The parcel was sealed with red wax, and when she removed the
enveloping pasteboard, she fo