He wrote a warm but hasty note to Annie, which through some carelessness was never delivered, attended to some necessary matters, and was just in time to catch the French steamer outward bound. When Annie reached Paris, she learned in dismay that he had sailed for New York. Seemingly he had left no message, no explanation; all they could learn at his hotel was that he had received a despatch summoning him instantly home. Annie was deeply wounded, though she tried to believe that he had written and that the letter had been missent or lost. A thousand conjectures of evil ran in her mind, and the thought of his being again on the ocean, which she now so dreaded, at the stormiest season of the year, was a source of deep anxiety. In her morbid fears she even thought that the scheming Hunting might have something to do with it. She gave way to despondency. Then her aunt tried to comfort her by saying, "Annie, I am sure I understand you both better than you do each other, and I think I can write Mr. Gregory a line which will clear up everything." But the quiet little lady was quite frightened by the way in which Annie turned upon her. "As you love me, aunty," she said, "never write a line on this subject. I am not one to seek, but must be sought, even by Gregory. Not one line, I charge you, containing a hint of my feelings." "Well, Annie, darling," she said, gently, "it's all going to come out right." But Annie, in her weak, depressed state, saw only the dark side. As with Gregory there was nothing for her but patient trust. But when, in due time, there came a despatch from him announcing his safe arrival, she was greatly reassured. The light came back into her eyes and the color to her cheeks. "What kind of medicine have you been taking to-day?" asked her uncle, slyly. "She has been treated with electricity," Miss Eulie remarked, quietly. "O, aunty!" said Annie, with a deep blush, "when did I ever hear you indulge in such a witticism before?" And when, some days later, she received a cordial, brotherly letter from Gregory, relating all that had occurred, a deep content stole into her heart, and she felt, with Miss Eulie, that all would eventually be well. She replied scrupulously, in like vein with himself, and thus began a correspondence that to each became a source of the truest happiness. Their letters were intensely brotherly and sisterly in character, but Annie felt almost sure that, under his fraternal disguise, she detected the warmth and glow of a far stronger affection; and, before many months had passed, he hoped the same of her dainty letters, though he could not lay his finger on a single word and say, "This proves it." But Annie's warm heart unconsciously colored the pages, nevertheless. Of Hunting he briefly wrote, "God pity him."