er note--no; I have not received any," replied Hilda.

"She wrote to you this morning, and put the note under the pin-cushion
in your room."

"How romantic and Judy-like!" said Quentyns suddenly. "Quite the correct
thing, according to the old-fashioned novels. When the heroine elopes
she always leaves a note under the pin-cushion."

"How do you do, Jasper? I did not notice you until this moment," said
Rivers. He gave the other man a sharp glance, which suddenly made him
feel queer and small. "The only thing old-fashioned that I notice about
Judy," he said, "is her noble unselfishness. She has gone home
because--because--I think you can both guess why; an explanation would
only be disagreeable. She begged me to tell you, Mrs. Quentyns, that she
meant to be really _perfectly_ happy at home, and she hoped you and
Jasper would follow her example here. Poor little Giant Killer! she slew
an enormous giant to-day, and there are few people I respect as I do
that dear little soul. I saw her safely to the Rectory, as, when she
came to me, I thought it best to humor what was more a noble inspiration
than a child's whim. I will say good-night now."

Hilda scarcely said a word while Rivers was speaking. When he left the
room, however, she stood still for an instant, listening intently.
Jasper had gone out to see his friend into his hansom. Would he come
back? He did for a moment.

"Don't sit up for me, Hilda," he said; and there was a tone in his voice
which caused her heart to sink down low, very low indeed.

She heard the door slam behind him, and then she knew that she was
alone. The servants had gone to bed--to all intents and purposes she was
absolutely alone in the silent house.

So Judy's sacrifice was in vain. Judy had thought, by absolutely
sacrificing herself, that she could bring this husband and wife
together. It was not to be.

Hilda fell on her knees and buried her burning face in the sofa
cushions.

"Oh, Judy, little Judy!" she sobbed. "Oh, Judy, what shall I do? My pain
is greater than I can bear."

She knelt in this position for a long time. Her little sister's face was
distinctly seen in her mental vision; Judy seemed surrounded by a sort
of halo--but what of Jasper? Had all the love which united these two
hearts vanished like a dream? Was he never coming back to her? Would he
always misunderstand her? Oh, if she thought that, she would not stay
with him--she would go back to the Rectory and to Judy, an