his being the
fashionable preacher, or his name being in the papers frequently,
suggested the idea. But if you have any doubt on the subject, ask him."

Mrs. Lancaster looked assent.

"Here--Having heard the story, and thinking it might be as well to stop
it at once, I wrote to Mr. Rimmon to give me a statement to set the
matter at rest, and I have it in my pocket." He took from his
pocket-book a letter and spread it before Mrs. Lancaster. It read:

"DEAR MR. WICKERSHAM: I am sorry you are being annoyed. I
cannot imagine that you should need any such statement as you
request. The records of marriages are kept in the proper
office here. Any one who will take the trouble to inspect
those records will see that I have never made any such
report. This should be more than sufficient.

"I feel sure this will answer your purpose.

"Yours sincerely,

"W.H. RIMMON."

"I think that settles the matter," said Wickersham, with his eyes on her
face.

"It would seem so," said Mrs. Lancaster, gravely.

As she spoke slowly, Wickersham put in one more nail.

"Of course, you know there must be a witness to a marriage," he said.
"If there be such a witness, let K---- let those who are engaged in
defaming me produce him."

"No, no," said Mrs. Lancaster, quickly. "Mr. Rimmon's statement--I think
I owe you an apology for what I said. Of course, it appeared incredible;
but something occurred--I can't tell you--I don't want to tell you
what--that shocked me very much, and I suppose I judged too hastily and
harshly. You must forget what I said, and forgive me for my injustice."

"Certainly I will," he said earnestly.

The revulsion in her belief inclined her to be kinder toward him than
she had been in a long time.

The change in her manner toward him made Wickersham's heart begin to
beat. He leant over and took her hand.

"Won't you give me more than justice, Alice?" he began. "If you knew how
long I have waited--how I have hoped even against hope--how I have
always loved you--" She was so taken aback by his declaration that for a
moment she did not find words to reply, and he swept on: "--you would
not be so cold--so cruel to me. I have always thought you the most
beautiful--the most charming woman in New York."

She shook her head. "No, you have not."

"I have; I swear I have! Even when I have hung around--around other
women, I have done so because I saw you were