nor of an interview, and favor a poor unlucky
woman with a word of advice?"

"She may pervert your letter to some use of her own, which you may have
reason to regret." Did Emily remember Alban's warning words? No: she
accepted Mrs. Rook's reply as a gratifying tribute to the justice of her
own opinions.

Having proposed to write to Alban, feeling penitently that she had
been in the wrong, she was now readier than ever to send him a letter,
feeling compassionately that she had been in the right. Besides, it was
due to the faithful friend, who was still working for her in the reading
room, that he should be informed of Sir Jervis's illness. Whether the
old man lived or whether he died, his literary labors were fatally
interrupted in either case; and one of the consequences would be the
termination of her employment at the Museum. Although the second of the
two letters which she had received was addressed to her in Cecilia's
handwriting, Emily waited to read it until she had first written to
Alban. "He will come to-morrow," she thought; "and we shall both make
apologies. I shall regret that I was angry with him and he will regret
that he was mistaken in his judgment of Mrs. Rook. We shall be as good
friends again as ever."

In this happy frame of mind she opened Cecilia's letter. It was full of
good news from first to last.

The invalid sister had made such rapid progress toward recovery that the
travelers had arranged to set forth on their journey back to England in
a fortnight. "My one regret," Cecilia added, "is the parting with Lady
Doris. She and her husband are going to Genoa, where they will embark
in Lord Janeaway's yacht for a cruise in the Mediterranean. When we have
said that miserable word good-by--oh, Emily, what a hurry I shall be in
to get back to you! Those allusions to your lonely life are so dreadful,
my dear, that I have destroyed your letter; it is enough to break one's
heart only to look at it. When once I get to London, there shall be no
more solitude for my poor afflicted friend. Papa will be free from his
parliamentary duties in August--and he has promised to have the house
full of delightful people to meet you. Who do you think will be one of
our guests? He is illustrious; he is fascinating; he deserves a line all
to himself, thus:

"The Reverend Miles Mirabel!

"Lady Doris has discovered that the country parsonage, in which this
brilliant clergyman submits to exile, is only twelve miles awa