for my reward, Ebenezer Gryce is not the man I have always taken him to be."
"And Eleanore?"
"We will mention no names," said he, gently waving his hand to and fro.
A few minutes later, I left the house with Miss Leavenworth, she having expressed a wish to have me accompany her to the home of her friend, Mrs. Gilbert, with whom she had decided to take refuge. As we rolled down the street in the carriage Mr. Gryce had been kind enough to provide for us, I noticed my companion cast a look of regret behind her, as if she could not help feeling some compunctions at this desertion of her cousin.
But this expression was soon changed for the alert look of one who dreads to see a certain face start up from some unknown quarter. Glancing up and down the street, peering furtively into doorways as we passed, starting and trembling if a sudden figure appeared on the curbstone, she did not seem to breathe with perfect ease till we had left the avenue behind us and entered upon Thirty-seventh Street. Then, all at once her natural color returned and, leaning gently toward me, she asked if I had a pencil and piece of paper I could give her. I fortunately possessed both. Handing them to her, I watched her with some little curiosity while she wrote two or three lines, wondering she could choose such a time and place for the purpose.
"A little note I wish to send," she explained, glancing at the almost illegible scrawl with an expression of doubt. "Couldn’t you stop the carriage a moment while I direct it?"
I did so, and in another instant the leaf which I had torn from my note-book was folded, directed, and sealed
