"I know it, I know it," hastily spoke J.C., and coming to her side

he handed her the soiled missive, saying, "It came a long time ago,

and was mislaid among my papers, until this letter recalled it to my

mind. There is nothing in it of any consequence, I dare say, and had

it not been sealed I might, perhaps, have read it, for as the doctor

says, `It's a maxim of mine that a wife should have no secrets from

her husband,' hey, Maude?" and he caressed her burning cheek, as she

read the note which, had it been earlier received, might have

changed her whole after life.

And still it was not one-half as affectionate in its tone as was the

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last, for it began with, "Cousin Maude" and ended with "Yours

respectfully," but she knew he had been true to his promise, and

without a suspicion that J.C. had deceived her she placed the

letters in her pocket, to be read again when she was alone, and

could measure every word and sentiment.

That afternoon when she went to her chamber to make some changes in

her dress she found herself standing before the mirror much longer

than usual, examining minutely the face which James De Vere had

called beautiful.

"He thought so, or he would not have said it; but it is false," she

whispered; "even J.C. never called me handsome;" and taking out the

note that day received, she read it again, wondering why the name

"Cousin Maude" did not sound as pleasantly as when she first heard

it.

That night as she sat with Louis in her room she showed the letters

to him, at the same time explaining the reason why one of them was

not received before.

"Oh, I am so glad," said Louis, as he finished reading them, "for

now I know that James De Vere don't like you."

"Don't like me, Louis!" and in Maude's voice there was a world of

sadness.

"I mean," returned Louis, "that he don't love you for anything but a

cousin. I like J.C. very, very much, and I am glad you are to be his

wife; but I've sometimes thought that if you had waited the other

one would have spoken, for I was almost sure he loved you, but he

don't, I know; he couldn't be so pleased with your engagement, nor

write you so affectionately if he really cared."

Maude hardly knew whether she were pleased or not with Louis'

reasoning. It was true, though, she said, and inasmuch as James did

not care for her, and she did not care for James, she was very glad

she was engaged to J.C.! And with reassured confidence in herself

she sat down and wrote an answer to that note, a frank, impulsive,

Maude-like answer, which, nevertheless, would convey to James De

Vere no idea how large a share of that young girl's thoughts were

given to himself.




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