sition of kindred and friends, is to invite a terrible retribution."

Now she understood him. Her reply was instant: "If Captain Adams again offers me his hand, knowing what it will cost, I shall accept it though all the world forbid !" And then she ran away to the garden, and looking toward the mainentrance gate of the grounds, she saw there the carrier of the evening paper, who also delivered all postal matter to The Hermitage every evening. The carrier knew her and held up a letter significantly, and then laying it on the sun-dial near the gate, hastened on.

Genevieve walked rapidly to the dial, saw that the letter was indeed for her, and taking it to her room, began to read it. This was the letter:

PLANTERS HOUSE, 3 P. M.

MY DEAR MISS CAULDWELL: I leave for Mississippi tomorrow night, and shall meet your brother before my return. We have met before, but as he did not then learn my name, I venture to beg of you such a letter of introduction as shall merely give my name and state that I am an acquaintance of Dr. Chartervale's and yours. By mailing your reply to me at the Planters to-morrow morning, you will much oblige a friend who does not now presume to ask more.

Very truly yours,

SETH ADAMS.

GENEVIEVE RECEIVES A LETTER.

231

Genevieve had the courage of her convictions. She appreciated the respectful forbearance which did "not presume to ask for more "; but she was not quite ready, under all the circumstances, to write that letter of introduction. So she immediately hunted up Dr. Chartervale, and handing him the letter, asked him to furnish the required introduction. And while the doctor read Captain Adams' note she went off again to her own room.

Of course the doctor wrote the letter, and inclosed it in another to Captain Adams, the contents of which Genevieve never knew. But it did not injure the suit of Captain Adams; and the good doctor waited the issue with almost as much anxiety as did Genevieve herself.

CHAPTER XIX.

MISS WATERBURY FINDS A CURE FOR THE HEARTACHE-PROFESSOR ADAMS, AND THE MAGIC THERE IS IN A NAME.

s Jane Waterbury, after reaching Cincinnati, passed on by rail up the Valley of the Miami toward Nonabel, she was delighted beyond measure with the country through which she passed, as one who had been all her life familiar only with plains and nearly level countries would be likely to be.

The September sun was pouring golden light upon wooded hills rising almost to mountain height; upon sloping plains and quiet valleys; upon golden cornfields and orchards ruddy with ripening fruit. Country houses which were almost palaces, and great barns which spoke of plenty and abundant prosperity, were to be seen in a hundred delightful spots, raising still higher the happy anticipations with which Jane Waterbury was approaching her long-delayed heritage. The happiest possible moment is no doubt that

in which hopes and aspirations and anticipations long deferred are at last triumphant. No hours of possession afterward can equal that. And in this happy fruition Jane let her feelings revel as the train sped along the river side and out into the valley and away to Nonabel, forgetting for the time her life in the far South, her school days at Monticello, and all she had seen and known and felt at The Hermitage.

In this happy state of mind Jane Waterbury met her mother at the station and joined in the happiest embrace of all their lives! Mr. Waterbury, her uncle, gave her the kindliest welcome, and seating her in the light, open carriage with her mother, himself drove them up the turnpike road, past the Normal School, and up to the Waterbury place. As they passed the fine brick edifice of the Normal School, a gentleman stepped out within ten feet of the carriage, bowed, and passed on.

66

"Heavens !" exclaimed Jane, but in an undertone, "it's Mr. Adams!" Yes," responded Mr. Waterbury, "it is Mr. Adams. Do you happen to know him?"

Jane made no reply. She was pale as death; her lips quivered; she put her arm about her