"She writes a good hand," observed Felix, opening the letter. "She has had a good education." "That speaks well for her mother." "She has no remembrance of her mother." "Then she owes it all to you, Martha." "All to me, Felix," replied Martha quietly; "but read." Felix read: "My dear Aunty,--It is nearly twelve o'clock at night, and I am very tired and sleepy. But before I go to bed I want to talk to you, and as you are not here for me to tease you, I must write a letter. Now I daresay you wonder what about--_I_ should, if I were you!--although I know you are always glad to get a letter from me, whether there is anything in it or not. But I really have something to say to you now; something very, _very_ particular, although it will puzzle you, for I can only tell you a bit of it. You shall know the rest when you come to London, which I hope will be soon, but not until I write you another letter to tell you where to come to. I am going to move, aunty dear, into a nice house, where I'm going to be very happy and comfortable; and although I said at first that I must tell you about it before I did it, I have been persuaded to wait until it was done, so that I might give you a real pleasant surprise. Now, this is to tell you just so much, and no more,--and to tell you, too, that you mustn't be the least bit uneasy about me. We shall be nicely settled in a very few days, and then I shall write to you to come and see me. I fancy I see you walking in and looking about in astonishment, you dear aunty! I wish we could always live together, and that I could show you how much I love you, and how grateful I am for all your care of me. Perhaps that time will come, eh, dear aunty?--Now I must wish you good-night, for I feel so sleepy. Good-night; God bless you.--From your happy and affectionate LIZZIE." "When I received that letter yesterday," said Martha when Felix returned it to her, "I cannot describe to you the misery it brought to me. Lizzie had made a change in her life once before without my knowing, and she promised me then, seeing the unhappiness it caused me, always to consult me in any matter of importance. She has not done so; I have seen her to-day with two men who are utter strangers to me; she has never mentioned their names to me; and one is evidently more to her than an ordinary friend or acquaintance." "Calm yourself, Martha," said Felix, in sincere compassion for her distress of mind; "you are wasting your strength."