"Come in!" I said.
"The letter!" answered a husky voice. She stretched out a bony hand, without moving a step.
"It is for a lady—very important business," said I, taking up the letter; "are you sure that there is no mistake?"
She drew her hand under the shawl, turned without a word, and moved toward the hall door.
"Stop!" I cried; "I beg a thousand pardons! Take it—take it! You are the right messenger!"
She clutched it, and was instantly gone.
Several days passed, and I gradually became so nervous and uneasy that I was on the point of inserting another "Personal" in the daily papers, when the answer arrived. It was brief and mysterious; you shall hear the whole of it.
"I thank you. Your letter is a sacred confidence
which I pray you never to regret. Your
nature is sound and good. You ask no more