ts of happiness is
shadowed by one faint cloud. It is not much, my love; it is only the
consciousness of my age and of the precarious state of my health. I may
not live to see you united to the noble husband of your choice. Therefore
it is that I have urged your speedy marriage with what your good
chaperon, Lady Belgrade, evidently considers indecorous haste. She must
continue to think it indecorous, because unreasonable. I cannot, and will
not, darken your sunshine of joy, by giving to you _now_ the real
reason of my precipitation--the extremely precarious state of my health.
Yet, in the event of my being suddenly taken from you, I must prepare
this letter to be delivered to you after my death, that you may know my
last wishes. If I live to see you wedded to the good Lord Arondelle,
this paper shall be torn up and destroyed; if not, if I should be
suddenly snatched away from you before your wedding-day, this letter will
be read to you, after my will shall have been read, in the presence of
your betrothed husband, your good chaperon and your assembled household,
that you and they and all may know my last wishes concerning you, and
that none shall dare to blame you for obeying them, even though in doing
so you have to pursue a very unusual course. My wish, therefore, is that
your marriage with Lord Arondelle may not be delayed for a day upon
account of my death; but that it take place at the time fixed or as soon
thereafter as practicable. In giving these directions, I feel sure that I
am consulting the wishes of Lord Arondelle, the best interests of
yourself, and the happiness of both. Follow my directions, therefore, my
dearest daughter, and may the blessing of our Father in Heaven rest upon
you and yours, is the prayer of

"Your devoted father, LEMUEL LEVISON."

During the reading of the letter the face of Salome was bathed in tears
and buried in her pocket-handkerchief.

The duke sat by her, with his arm around her waist, supporting her.

At the end of the reading, without looking up, she stretched out her hand
and whispered softly:

"Give me my dear father's letter now."

The attorney, who was engaged in re-folding the documents and restoring
them to the japanned box, left his seat, and came to her side, and placed
the letter in her hands.

"Thanks, Mr. Kage," she said, wiping her eyes and looking up. "But now
will you tell me if you know what my dear father meant by writing of the
precarious state of his he