in
his own sorrowful reflections, Mrs. Keen preserved a prim and gloomy
silence, and Violet was thus left to her own thoughts.

She could not keep from thinking of those few sad yet sweet moments when
she had stood alone with Wallace by the casket of his mother, and heard
him speak those words which had changed, in one instant, her whole life.

"My darling, your presence is inexpressibly comforting to me!"

She knew that he had not meant to speak thus, that only a sense of his
own desolation and her unexpected sympathy, had made him forget himself,
break down all barriers, and betray the secret of his love.

It had been an unexpected revelation to her, however; she had not
suspected the nature of his feelings toward her, nor of hers toward him,
until then; but now she knew that she loved him--that all the world,
with every other blessing and luxury at her command, would be worthless
to her without him to share it.

When they reached Hughes street again Violet held out her hand to
Wallace, saying it was so late she must go directly home.

Then he suddenly came to himself and realized how very tedious the long,
silent ride must have been for her.

"Let me send you home in the carriage," he said, eagerly.

"Thank you, no; I will take a car," Violet replied, so decidedly that he
did not press the matter further.

It was very late when she reached home, and she found her sister quite
anxious over her prolonged absence.

"Where have you been, Violet?" she demanded, somewhat impatiently; "it
is not the proper thing at all for you to be out so late alone. Mercy!
and you are all in black, too; I should think you had been at a
funeral."

"I have; I have been to Mrs. Richardson's funeral," Violet replied, hot
tears rushing to her eyes.

Mrs. Mencke looked startled.

"Mrs. Richardson!" she repeated. "When did she die?"

"Day before yesterday; and it was all by chance that I saw the notice of
her death in a paper. She died very suddenly of heart disease."

"I wish I had known it, I would have gone with you," said Mrs. Mencke,
looking disturbed.

"Would you?" Violet exclaimed, surprised.

"Yes; it was not proper for you to go alone."

The young girl's face fell; she had hoped her sister wanted to show this
tribute of respect to one who had been so kind to her.

"Where was she buried?" Mrs. Mencke inquired.

"At Spring Grove Cemetery."

"Did you go out there?"

"Yes," and Violet flushed slightly.

"With