Worn out with grief and the fatigue of her journey, she fell asleep the moment her head touched the pillow.

The sun was up when she woke again, birds were singing in the tree close to her window, and the glad voices of children at play on the other side of the street came pleasantly to her ear. Had she escaped from her horrible nightmare?

Alas! for only an instant; it was upon her again. Bitter tears coursed down her cheeks. How lonely and desolate was her lot! but ah, Espy’s love was left her still. There was balm for her wounded spirit in that thought.

Then came another—the secret imparted with Mrs. Kemper’s dying breath. Had not Espy now a right to know the truth as well as she?

She pondered the question for a moment. She was sure it would make no difference in his love, as why should it indeed? But he should know; she would have no concealments from him who was to be her second self.. . . Read More