She leaned forward to him with the paper in her little trembling hand, and said, "It is from Cornelia." "My God!" he ejaculated; and the words were fraught with such feeling, as could have found no other vehicle of expression. "She has sent you, dear George, a copy of the letter you ought to have received more than two years ago. Read it." His eyes ran rapidly over the sweet words, his face flamed, his hands trembled, he cried out impetuously-- "But what does it mean? Am I quite in my senses? How has this letter been delayed? Why do I get only a copy?" "Because Mr. Van Ariens has the original." "It is all incredible. What do you mean, Annie? Do not keep me in such torturing suspense." "It means that Mr. Van Ariens asked Cornelia to marry him on the same day that you wrote to her about your marriage. She answered both letters in the same hour, and misdirected them." "GOD'S DEATH! How can I punish so mean a scoundrel? I will have my letter from him, if I follow him round the world for it." "You have your letter now. I asked Cornelia to write it again for you; and you see she has done it gladly." "Angel of goodness! But I will have my first letter." "It has been in that man's keeping for more than two years. I would not touch it. 'Twould infect a gentleman, and make of him a rascal just as base." "He shall write me then an apology in his own blood. I will make him do it, at the point of my sword." "If I were you, I would scorn to wet my sword in blood so base." "Remember, Annie, what this darling girl suffered. For his treachery she nearly died. I speak not of my own wrong--it is as nothing to hers." "However, she might have been more careful." "Annie, she was in the happy hurry of love. Your calm soul knows not what a confusing thing that is--she made a mistake, and that sneaking villain turned her mistake into a crime. By a God's mercy, it is found out--but how? Annie! Annie, how much I owe you! What can I say? What can I do?" "Be reasonable. Mary Damer really found it out. His guilty restless conscience forced him to tell her the story, though to be sure he put the wrong on people he did not name. But I knew so much of the mystery of your love sorrow, as to put the two stories together, and find them fit. Then I wrote to Cornelia." "How long ago?" "About two months." "Why then did you not give me hope ere this?" "I would not give you hope, till hope was certain. Two years is a long time in a girl's life. It was a possible thing for Cornelia to have forgotten--to have changed." "Impossible! Quite impossible! She could not forget. She could not change. Why did you not tell me? I should have known her heart by mine own." "I wished to be sure," repeated Annie, a little sadly. "Forgive me, dear Annie. But this news throws me into an unspeakable condition. You see that I must leave for America at once." "No. I do not see that, George." "But if you consider--"