relief, gazing, as I did so, out of the window, when those letters again attracted my attention.
What could they mean? Idly I began to read them backward, when— But try for yourself, reader, and judge of my surprise! Elate at the discovery thus made, I sat down to write my letters. I had barely finished them, when Mrs. Belden came in with the announcement that supper was ready. "As for your room," said she, "I have prepared my own room for your use, thinking you would like to remain on the first floor." And, throwing open a door at my side, she displayed a small, but comfortable room, in which I could dimly see a bed, an immense bureau, and a shadowy looking-glass in a dark, old-fashioned frame.
"I live in very primitive fashion," she resumed, leading the way into the dining-room; "but I mean to be comfortable and make others so."
"I should say you amply succeeded," I rejoined, with an appreciative glance at her well-spread board.
She smiled, and I felt I had paved the way to her good graces in a way that would yet redound to my advantage.
Shall I ever forget that supper! its dainties, its pleasant freedom, its mysterious, pervading atmosphere of unreality, and the constant sense which every bountiful dish she pressed upon me brought of the shame of eating this woman’s food with such feelings of suspicion in my heart! Shall I ever forget the emotion I experienced when I first perceived she had something on her mind, which she longed, yet hesitated, to give
