“In mercy, speak to me once as you used to. Say that you forgive me, even though we never can be to each other again what we have been!” “I do forgive you, Anna; and as for the rest I did not suppose you wished it.” Raising herself up, Anna threw her arms impetuously around his neck, exclaiming, “I do wish it, Adam. Don’t cast me off. Try me, and see if I am not worthy. I have sinned, but I have repented too. Never were you so dear to me! Oh, Adam, take me back!” She was getting too much excited, and putting her arms from his neck, Adam laid her upon the pillow, and said to her gently, “Anna, my faith in you has been shaken, but my love has never changed. You must not talk longer now. I’ll come again by and by, and meantime I’ll send Miss Atherton. She knows it all, both from Herbert and yourself. She is a noble girl. You can trust her.” At Adam’s request Mildred went to Anna, and sitting down beside her, listened while Anna confessed the past, even to the particulars of her interview with Adam, and then added tearfully, “Forgive me, and tell me what to do.” “I should be an unworthy disciple of Him who said forgive, until seventy times seven, if I refused your request,” was Mildred’s reply, as she wound her arm around Anna’s neck, and imprinted upon Anna’s lips the kiss of pardon. Then, as Anna could bear it, she unfolded her plan, which was that the invalid should return with her to her pleasant home at Rose Hill, staying there until she had fully tested the strength of her love for Adam, who, if she stood the test should come for her himself. As a change of air and scene seemed desirable, Anna’s mother raised no serious objection to this arrangement, and so one October morning Adam Floyd held for a moment a little wasted hand in his while he said good-bye to its owner, who so long as he was in sight leaned from the carriage window to look at him standing there so lone and solitary, yet knowing it was better to part with her awhile, if he would have their future as bright as he had once fancied it would be. * * * * * Eight years have passed away, and on the broad piazza of Castlewild a sweet-faced woman stands, waiting impatiently the arrival of the carriage winding slowly up the hill, and which stops at last, while Mildred Atherton alights from it and ascends the steps to where Anna stands waiting for her. And Mildred, who for years has been abroad, and has but recently returned to America, has come to be for a few weeks her guest, and to see how Anna deports herself as the wife of Adam Floyd, and mistress of beautiful Castlewild.