“What’s up now that Ad looks so solemn like?” was Hugh’s mental comment as he took his way to the room where, in a half reclining position Adah lay, her large, bright eyes fixed eagerly upon the door through which he entered, and a bright flush upon her cheek called up by the suspicions to which she had been subjected. Perhaps they might be true. She did not know. Nobody knew or could tell her unless it were Hugh, and she waited for him so anxiously, starting when she heard a manly step and knew that he was coming. For an instant she scanned his face curiously to assure herself that it was he, then with an imploring cry as if for him to save her from some dreaded evil she stretched her little hands toward him and sobbed, “Mr. Worthington, was it true? Was it a real thing, or only sheer mockery, as his letter said? George, George Hastings, you know,” and shedding back from her white face the wealth of flowing hair, Adah waited for the answer, which did not come at once. In utter amazement Hugh gazed upon the stranger, and then with an interjection of astonishment, exclaimed, “Adah, Adah Hastings, why are you here?” In the tone of his voice surprise was mingled with disapprobation, the latter of which Adah, detected at once, and as if it had crushed out the last lingering hope, she covered her face with her hands and sobbed piteously, “Don’t you turn against me, or I’ll surely die, and I’ve come so far to find you.” By this time Hugh was himself again. His rapid, quick-seeing mind had taken in both the past and the present, and turning to his mother and sister, he said, “Leave us alone for a time. I will call you when you are needed and, Ad, remember, no listening by the door,” he continued, as he saw how disappointed ’Lina seemed. Rather reluctantly Mrs. Worthington and her daughter left the room, and Hugh was alone with Adah, whose face was still hidden in her hands, and whose body shook with strong emotion. Deliberately turning the key in the lock, Hugh advanced to her side, and kneeling by the couch, said, kindly, “I am more pained to see you here than I can well express. Why did you come, and where is——?” The name was lost to ’Lina, listening outside, in spite of her brother’s injunction. Neither could she understand the passionate, inaudible response. She only knew that sobs and tears were mingled with it, that there was a rustling of paper, which Adah bade Hugh read, asking if it were true. This was all ’Lina could hear, and muttering to herself, “It does not sound much like man and wife,” she rather unwillingly quitted her position, and Hugh was really alone with Adah.