“I know, thanks; but it does not matter. My Clover news will keep: it is much diluted generally, and I am so late this morning. I cannot think what has made me so late.” Dolff was very silent at that morning meal. He scarcely spoke to anyone. He had none of the remarks to make which he was generally so anxious to expend upon Miss Summerhayes. If anybody had been specially interested in Dolff it would have been seen that he watched every movement Janet made--not as he usually did, but with a suspicious, anxious inspection. But his sisters were indifferent, and Janet herself too much excited to pay any attention to him. She did not know that he had seen her letter. When she saw it, she cast a quick glance at the other side of the table to see if by any chance Julia or Gussy had noted a handwriting which must have been familiar. But they were both entirely unconscious, at their ease; and she never thought of Dolff. It was unlikely that a man should have looked at her letters, but one of the girls might have done it with that more lively curiosity which girls have about little things. Julia might have done it “for fun;” but Janet did not think of Dolff. She was, therefore, quite at ease so far as they were concerned, though the letter burned her pocket, demanding to be read. As soon as she had an excuse to rise from the table she did so, still unaware of the spectator, full of heavy thoughts, who said to himself, “Now she is going to read it. She will not trust herself to read it before any of us.” He did not know that there was any special reason why Meredith should write to Janet. Had it been Julia who had seen it she would have said so, and Janet would doubtless have found an explanation. But Dolff said nothing. A letter in Meredith’s hand--Meredith, who was, or should be, his sister’s pledged and affianced lover--who could have nothing to do with Janet that was not clandestine and guilty. Dolff’s colorless countenance--with its light hair and light mustache, a face which was more foolish than comic, a half-innocent, half-jovial countenance--was stern as that of a judge. What had she to do with Meredith? What did she know of him, save as Gussy’s lover? Was she so far ignorant of honor and virtue that she should allow another woman’s lover to write to her? and what to Janet could Meredith have to say? It was at once less, and more guilty than Dolff imagined--for it was touching the papers she had sent him that Meredith wrote--but the manner of the writing was not exactly that of a business communication. Meredith wrote as follows:-- “MY DEAREST--