ghed the old lady.

And Emma and Alden kissed her and left the room.

In the passage outside they met Mrs. Fanning, who seemed to be waiting
for them.

She cordially welcomed Mr. Lytton, of whose arrival she had heard from
the servants. And then she inquired of Emma how Mrs. Cavendish was
getting on.

"She grows weaker in the body and stronger in the spirit with every
successive hour, I think," replied Miss Cavendish.

"Well, my dear, I only wished to ask you that, and to tell you that I
have had lunch laid in the little breakfast room, if Mr. Lytton would
like any," said Mrs. Fanning, who now took equal share in all Emma's
housekeeping cares.

But Alden, when appealed to, declined the lunch and hinted that they had
better see to sending off the messengers to Beresford Manors and Lytton
Lodge immediately.

And that same noon the letters were dispatched.

Alden Lytton had come down to Blue Cliffs for the purpose of confiding
to Emma Cavendish the story of his first boyish passion for Mary Grey,
and of the violent manner in which it was cured forever. But finding all
the circumstances so opposite to what he expected to find them, he
changed his purpose. He could not bring himself to add another item to
the disturbing influences then surrounding Emma.

That afternoon, also, Dr. Willet came to Blue Cliffs, and Emma had to
accompany him to the bedside of her grandmother, and afterward to hold
quite a long conversation with him in the library.

A few minutes after the doctor left the house, Mr. Lyle, who had heard
of the illness of Mrs. Cavendish, arrived to inquire after her
condition.

Emma had to receive the minister and accompany him to her grandmother's
chamber, and to stay there and join in the prayers that were offered for
the sick woman.

Mr. Lyle remained with the family all the afternoon; and having received
from Mr. Lytton a notice of the ceremony he was desired to perform the
next day, he promised to be at Blue Cliff Hall again punctually at noon,
and then took leave.

Very early the next morning Alden Lytton mounted the swiftest horse in
the Cavendish stables and rode to Wendover to procure his marriage
license.

He did not stay long in the village, you may be sure; but, leaving his
horse to rest and drink at the Reindeer trough, he hurried to the
town-hall and took out his license, returned to the inn, remounted his
horse, and rode immediately back to Blue Cliff Hall.

As he rode up the aven