"Thanks," said Miss Cavendish, with a vivid blush.
"I believe there was some talk about a picnic party to the top of Porcupine Mountain, was there not?" inquired Electra, to cut short all sentiment.
"Yes, my dear, and the horses are ordered for eleven o'clock. It is half-past ten now, and we will go and put on our hats and habits," replied Miss Cavendish, playfully rising and breaking up the conference.
The party of young friends remained one week longer at Blue Cliffs, every day deepening and confirming the admiration and respect with which the beauty and the excellence of Emma Cavendish inspired Alden Lytton. But yet he was not in love with her.
Every morning was spent by the young people in riding or driving about through the sublime and beautiful mountain and valley scenery of the neighborhood.
And every evening was passed in fancy work, music, reading or conversation in the drawing-room.
And so the pleasant days of the Easter holidays passed away, and the time for study and for work commenced.
Laura and Electra went away from Blue Cliffs on the same day—Laura escorted by her brother Alden, and Electra by her grandfather, the Rev. Dr. Jones.
As the party were assembled in the front hall to take leave of their fair young hostess before entering the large traveling carriage that was to take them to the Wendover railway station, Emma Cavendish went up to Alden Lytton and placed a letter in his hand, saying, with a frank smile:
"As you are going direct to Charlottesville, Mr. Lytton, I will trouble you to take charge of this letter to our mutual friend, Mrs. Grey, who, you know, is now staying in that town. Will you do so?"