pened, of the great good fortune that has come to
him so unexpectedly. If you knew the terms of our friendship you would
understand how natural it was for him to take me into his confidence,
Miss Hood. And I begged him to let me visit you, because'--again she
laughed in the same nervous way--'because he was in a foolish anxiety
lest you might have vanished; I told him it was best that he should have
the evidence of a very practical person's senses that you were really
here and that he hadn't only dreamt it. And as we did know each other,
you see--You will construe my behaviour kindly, will you not?'

'Surely I will, Miss Redwing,' Emily responded warmly. 'How else could I
meet your own great kindness?'

'I feared so many things; even at the door I almost turned away. There
seemed so little excuse for my visit. It was like intruding upon you.
But Mr. Athel assured me that I should not be unwelcome.'

Emily, overcome by the sense of relief after her apprehensions, gave
free utterance to the warm words in which her joy voiced itself. She
forgot all that was strange in Beatrice's manner or attributed it merely
to timidity. Sympathy just now was like sunshine to her; she could not
inquire whence or why it came, but was content to let it bathe her in
its divine solace.

'If you knew how it has flattered me!' Beatrice continued, with a
semblance of light-hearted goodness which her hearer had no thought of
criticising. 'It is the final proof of Mr. Athel's good opinion. You
know his poor opinion of conventional people and conventional behaviour.
He is determined that no one shall be told till--till after
Wednesday--making me the sole exception, you see. But seriously I am
glad he did so, and that I have been able to meet you again just at this
time. Now I can assure him that you are indeed a living being, and that
there is no danger whatever of your disappearing.'

Emily did not join the musical laugh, but her heart was full, and she
just laid her hand on that of Beatrice.

'It was only for a moment,' the latter said, rising as she felt the
touch. 'This is no hour for paying visits, and, indeed, I have to hurry
back again. I should like to--only to say that you have my very kindest
wishes. You forgive my coming; you forgive my hastening away so?'

'I feel I ought to thank you more,' broke from Emily's lips. 'To me,
believe, it is all very like a dream. O, it was kind of you to come! You
can't think,' she added, with only