hat on Tuesday afternoon her remains were borne away to Greenwood, and laid to rest, in the family lot, beside t

a place for herself in a different locality and among a different class of people. This she kne

following day, as Mr. Bryant would expe

d, eager to forget her grief and loneliness-for she knew she would be ill if she sat tamely down and allowed herself to think-

oset to begin her work, the first thing her eyes fell upon was the casket of le

and, with a moan of pain, she sank upo

weep; and, finally becoming somewhat composed, she took the beautiful b

she threw back the cover. "I will do as she wished, but I will firs

missives from intimate friends, with quite a number written b

g then remained in the box but a small package of six or eig

the superscription upon the envelope. "Why, it is postmarked Rome, Italy, away back in 18

wing the closely-written sheet from

girl was soon deeply immersed in a st

ad been both school and roommate, and who unreservedly confided all her secrets and experiences to her bosom

e surprise which her friend would experience upon receiving a letter from her from that locality, w

wealthy artist who had won her heart, but who, for some unaccountable reason, had not

d that the girl had eloped with her

n my fate into my own hands-or, rather, I have given it into the keeping of my dear one, and we are so happy, Edith darling, and lead an ideal life in this quaint old city of the seven hills, at whose feet runs, like a

up another, interested to know how the pretty love-story of her mother's friend would terminate. The second one, written a month

as left much alone, her "dear one" being obliged to be awa

because my husband's art monopolizes his time, while he is often absent from home a week at a time in connection with it, and I do not know what I should do, in this strange cou

aking in upon her perusal of the letter. "I wonder if she is living, and where? Those lette

k to the epist

st three words were crossed out-"to think about. When will you come to Rome, dear Edith? Your last letter was dated f

ds; but it overflowed with praises and love of her beautiful child, although it was evident that the

age, and Edith's face was very grave and s

rashness in leaving her home and friends. Oh, I wonder why girls will be so foolish and headstrong as to go directl

een reading, she unfolded the letter in her hands and began to re

best and kindest counselors. I could bear it for myself, perhaps-I could feel that it was but a just judgment upon me for my obstinacy and unfilial conduct, and so drag out my weary existence in submission to the inevitable; but when I t

en overcome with her wretchedness, and wept tears of

now absolutely color

loved her-that 'I was not his wife, only his --' I cannot write the vile word that makes my flesh creep with horror. Then I learned of his base conduct to me, whom, as he expressed it, he 'had cleverly deceived, and coaxed to run away with him to while away his solitude during his sojourn in a strange country.' It is a wonder that I did not drop dead where I stood-slain by the dreadful truth; but the wicked lovers did not dream of being overheard, and so I listened to the whole of

hat had dared to deny the existence of Deity; then the missive was resu

bear the thought of her growing up to learn of her heritage of shame, as she would be sure to do if I should live and rear her as my child. Your last letter tells me that you will be in Rome in less than a fortnight. I cannot meet you-I can never again meet any one whom I have known; and so, Edith-I am going to die. I give my child to you-I believe you will not refuse my last request-and you will find her, with the woman who nursed me when she was born, at No. 2 Via del Vecchia. The woman has my instructions-she believes tha

!" came hoarsely from Edith's bloodless lips

re her, and she knew nothing more until, long afterward, when she awoke from her swoon to find her la