ee Mrs Clyde.

No. The servant who answered the door, when I timidly called for the
third time at the house, told me that instructions had been given to say
"not at home" always _to me_.

Pleasant!

War had been declared:--a "guerre a outrance," as I had anticipated;
but, it was a struggle in which I was stretched on the ground at my
adversary's mercy, with her vengeful blade at my heart!

I then wrote to Min.

It was a long letter. I bewailed my hasty severance of the old
relations between us, and asked her to have pity on my sad fate. I
poured out all the flood of feeling which had deluged my breast since we
had parted at the party. I begged, I implored her not to desert me at
her mother's bidding.

My letter I posted, so that it should not be stopped en route, and
returned to me unread by my darling, whom I asked to write to me, if
only one line, to tell me that she had really received my appeal
safely--requesting her, also, to reply to me at my office that I might
get her answer in the soonest possible time.

I dreamt of her subsequently, the whole night through:--it was a
horrible dream!

A third day of torture in my governmental mill. Six mortal hours more
of dreary misery; and, helpless boredom at the hands of Smith, Brown,
Jones, and Robinson!

And, then, I got my reply.

It was "only a line." Very short, very sweet, very bitter, very
pointed; and yet, I value that little letter so highly that I would not
exchange it for the world! The words are stained with tear-drops that,
I know, fell from loving, grey eyes; while, its sense, though painful,
is sweet to me from its outspoken truthfulness:--I value it so highly,
that I could not deem it more precious, if it were written on a golden
tablet in characters set with diamonds--were it the longest letter
maiden ever wrote, the sweetest billet lover ever received!

"_Frank! I cannot, I must not grant your request. Do not wring my
heart by writing to me again, or speaking to me; for, I have promised,
and we are not to see each other any more. I am breaking my word in
writing to you now, but, oh! do not think badly of me. Indeed,
indeed, I am not heartless, Frank. It has not been my fault, believe
me. I shall pray for you always, always! I must not say any more_.

"_Minnie Clyde_."

That was all the little note contained; but, it was quite enough.

Was it not?

When I had read it and read it, over and over again, I was alm