"'Oh, she thought them beautiful, as they are,' was the quick reply; 'but like a generous girl-there are few such-she begged her sister to keep them, as suitable bridal gifts from her, as well as tokens of her love.'
"'She's a dear unselfish creature,' replied my father, with the credulity of a child; 'I never saw another young person just like her. She's so deep and hidden in her nature, one cannot easily read her thoughts. I wish sometimes she was more open and confiding; but she is a darling, for all her reticence.'
"'Yes, and loves Sarah to idolatry,' was the smooth, well-put rejoinder.
"This much I heard, dear Lizzie, of the conversation, and then, with a horrified, sickening sensation, I flew away-flew away to solitude, and communion with myself.
"I dared not undeceive my father; and as to the gifts my heart cried out, 'Go, vain baubles, go? What are diamonds and velvet to a desolate soul? Go, as Mark Abrams, and many other things rightfully mine, have gone from me—through treachery and fraud.'
"At this dreadful discovery, dear Lizzie, I longed for your true heart, so warm with sympathy, but it was far, far away, and no medium of communication between us but the soulless, tearless pen. That was inadequate then; now, the feeling has passed.
"But I crave your pardon for consuming so much time and space upon myself and my woes. Forgive me.
"When the wedding is over I'll write you a full and detailed account of it all.
"Did I tell you in my last of Bertha Levy? She is cultivating her voice in Berlin, and promises to become a marvellous singer, they say. Would you ever have thought she could be sober long enough to sing even a short ballad? What a girl Bertha was!-real good and kind though, despite her witchery.
"Oh, me! do you ever wish, Lizzie, you were a school-girl again at Madam Truxton's? I do. I often recall the song: "'Backward, turn backward, O Time, in your flight,' and am always sorrowful that my cry is unheeded by this swift-footed monarch.