ends crowded around him, rejoicing with him in hearty sympathy.

Among them came Craven Kyte, saying, as soon as he got a chance to
speak:

"Mr. Lytton, I have come to implore your pardon for the great wrong I
unconsciously did you. Heaven knows I never meant it!"

"I do not believe that you ever did," said Alden Lytton, kindly, taking
his hand.

"I was mad and blind. She told me it was only to be a practical joke,
and made it the only condition of our marriage, and I complied because I
was her slave," continued Craven Kyte, not very clearly.

"Say no more about it. Forget it all as fast as you can. I shall,"
answered Alden, gently pressing and relinquishing the hand that he had
held.

"Your carriage waits, my dear Lytton. And I am sure you are anxious to
get back to Blue Cliffs and be the first to convey this good news to
your wife," said Mr. Lyle, with a view to help Alden to get rid of his
well-meaning but troublesome friends, who, in the earnestness of their
sympathy with his triumph, forgot they were keeping him from her whom
his soul most longed to meet.

Friends took the gentle hint, shook hands with him and released him.

And very soon Alden Lytton, with Mr. Lyle and Laura, were on their way
to Blue Cliffs.

As the carriage rolled into the yard, Emma ran down the steps, her face
radiant with joy, to meet the beloved husband from whom she had been
separated for so many weeks under such trying circumstances, and whose
face she had been the first to see through the glass windows of the
carriage.

A moment more and they were locked in each other's arms, fervently
thanking Heaven for their happy reunion.

Later that evening the six friends were all assembled together in the
drawing-room.

John Lytton and Charley, who were the guests of the house for the night,
had just bid them good-night and retired to their room.

And then and there two little confessions were made.

Alden Lytton related the whole history of his foolish boyish love for
the fascinating and unprincipled widow who had so nearly effected his
destruction.

Emma listened in full sympathy, with his hand clasped in hers; and no
retrospective jealousy disturbed the serenity of her loving and trusting
spirit.

And at the close of the story she silently raised his hand and pressed
it to her heart. That was her only comment. And the subject was never
afterward mentioned between the two.

Then it was that Joseph Brent made his identity kn