is time she had
ceased to struggle; and when he released her, she stood still in a
passive, dull sort of way, her arms falling heavily to her sides. He
looked into her face, and saw that the eyes were staring wildly and
the muscles in a convulsive quiver. Then starting and reaching out
helplessly, she fell forward. Catching her in his arms, Mr. Dinneford
drew her toward a sofa, but she was dead before he could raise her from
the floor.

When Edith reached her room, she shut and locked the door. Then all her
excitement died away. She sat down, and opening the letter with hands
that gave no sign of inward agitation or suspense, read it through. It
was dated at Havana, and was as follows:

"MRS. HELEN DINNEFORD: MADAM--My physician tells me that I cannot live a
week--may die at any moment; and I am afraid to die with one unconfessed
and unatoned sin upon my conscience--a sin into which I was led by you,
the sharer of my guilt. I need not go into particulars. You know to what
I refer--the ruin of an innocent, confiding young man, your daughter's
husband. I do not wonder that he lost his reason! But I have information
that his insanity has taken on the mildest form, and that his friends
are only keeping him at the hospital until they can get a pardon from
the governor. It is in your power and mine to establish his innocence
at once. I leave you a single mouth in which to do this, and at the same
time screen yourself, if that be possible. If, at the end of a month, it
is not done, then a copy of this letter, with a circumstantial statement
of the whole iniquitous affair, will be placed in the hands of your
husband, and another in the hands of your daughter. I have so provided
for this that no failure can take place. So be warned and make the
innocence of George Granger as clear as noonday.

"LLOYD FREELING."

Twice Edith read this letter through before a sign of emotion was
visible. She looked about the room, down at herself, and again at the
letter.

"Am I really awake?" she said, beginning to tremble. Then the glad
but terrible truth grappled with her convictions, and through the wild
struggle and antagonism, of feeling that shook her soul there shone into
her face a joy so great that the pale features grew almost radiant.

"Innocent! innocent!" fell from her lips, over which crept a smile of
ineffable love. But it faded out quickly, and left in its place a shadow
of ineffable pain.

"Innocent! innocent!" she repea