And yet in the midst of all this she did not forget Earle; every morning on rising, and at evening on retiring, her thoughts fled to that gloomy cell, with its innocent inmate suffering for another’s crime. Every week she faithfully dispatched her floral remembrance; but Mr. Dalton’s servant having received permanent instructions upon that subject, they never left the hotel, and were ruthlessly destroyed and their beauty lost. People were not long in discovering that the beautiful heiress, Miss Dalton, was the charm that bound the distinguished Mr. Tressalia to Newport, and the desirableness and suitableness of an alliance between them began to be freely discussed and commented upon; while, as if by common consent, all other suitors dropped out of the field, as if convinced of the hopelessness of their cause, and she thereby fell to the charge of the young Englishman upon all occasions. But Editha began to feel somewhat uneasy at the way matters were settling themselves. She liked her new friend extremely; he was a man that could not fail to command everywhere respect and admiration, and she could not help enjoying his cultivated society; but she did not enjoy being paired off with him, to the exclusion of everybody else, upon every occasion; for her woman’s instinct told her whither all this was tending, and she knew it ought not to be. Mr. Dalton, however, was exceedingly elated over the prospect, and took no pains to conceal his satisfaction, nor to contradict the gossip regarding an approaching engagement, while, at the same time, he was never weary of recounting Mr. Tressalia’s merits to his daughter. When at length Editha began to excuse herself from accompanying him upon excursions of pleasure, and to retire to her own rooms upon some slight pretext when he joined them at evening on the piazza, her father became highly incensed, and fumed and fretted himself almost into a fever on account of it. “Editha, you will oblige me by not being quite so indifferent to Mr. Tressalia’s attentions,” Mr. Dalton said one day, upon their return from a brilliant reception given on board a French man-of-war lying at anchor in the harbor. The commander was a friend of Mr. Tressalia’s, and had given an elaborate breakfast and reception to him and his friends, together with some distinguished people sojourning at Newport. Editha and Mr. Dalton had been among the guests, and the former had been perfectly charming, in her dainty lawn, embroidered with rich purple pansies, and her jaunty hat, surrounded with a wreath of the same flowers. She had attracted marked attention from commander and officers, and also from many of the guests, and in this way had succeeded in saving herself from the usual “pairing off.” She had been somewhat reserved, too, in her manner toward Mr. Tressalia, and her father swore more than once to himself at her evident avoidance of him. She blushed at his remark, but said, very quietly: