“Dear Friend,” she wrote. “Charlotte has told me of the happiness that came to her and to you during her visit to Fairmount. I am sure you will believe me when I say it is my most earnest wish that that happiness will never be any less than it is now and that it will grow greater during the many long years of wedded life that I hope are before you. In your and her feelings and convictions there is nothing to divide you, nothing to prevent the complete union of hearts and souls which is the only thing that can make marriage worth while. I am sure, since you love her, that you will always be very tender to Charlotte. To me she has always been just ‘little sister’ and it is difficult for me to realize that she is really a woman and about to become a wife. At home we have always spoiled her and that has made her, sometimes, in a merry way, rather ruthless of other people’s feelings. But I have no doubt your love will make you understand that this is only on the surface and that her heart is true and loving. For you both, dear friend, soon to be brother, my heart is full of every good wish. Always your friend, Rhoda”--she paused here, on the point of signing her name in the old way, but “Adeline” seemed sacred to those other days and to the love that had been between them then, and she could not write it here. So she added only “Ware” and quickly folded and sealed the letter. As she looked at the envelope it seemed as if it were the coffin of her love, ready for burial, as if she had said a last good-by to all the pleasure it had brought into her heart. Now only the pain was left. She bowed her head upon her hands and some scalding drops trickled through her fingers. Her jailer’s knock sounded at the door and she sprang to her feet and dried her eyes. Hardly had she time to control her sobs when it opened and Jefferson Delavan crossed the threshold. His look was deeply earnest and intent upon her as he moved forward, holding out both hands and saying, “Rhoda! I could stay away no longer!” “Jeff!” she faltered, stepping back. “I--I--had just written to you!” “Written to me! Rhoda! Did you ask me to come?” There was no mistaking the look of glad surprise and love that suddenly broke over his countenance. Rhoda gazed at him in perplexity and instinctively pressed one hand against her heart, as if to keep down the responsive love that was trying to leap upward, as she said to herself, “Charlotte’s husband! Charlotte’s husband!” Still moving backward, away from him, as he followed her across the room exclaiming again, “Sweetheart, did you ask me to come?” her bewildered, apprehensive thought sprang to the conclusion that she must make him be true to Charlotte, that she must not let him betray the “little sister.” “Charlotte--” she ejaculated--“your engagement--I wrote to wish you happiness!” He stopped short and stared at her with puzzled eyes. “What under heaven do you mean?”