I questioned Lottie on this subject, so far as I could venture, without informing her of what had passed in the library, of which she was entirely ignorant; but she declared that she knew nothing of the letter, which had been given to her mistress, till it was placed in her own hands by the man who brought our mails from the town. As for Mrs. Dennison, she would as soon touch a copperhead as write a word to that she-Babylon. All this might be true. At any rate, Lottie looked truthful when she said it; but in her sayings and doings, the girl was not altogether as clear as crystal, and, spite of her protestations, I had some doubt left. No person except Jessie and myself, either in the house or neighborhood, knew the reason of Mr. Lee's sudden departure. It was understood that, broken down by the death of his wife, he had sought distraction from grief in travelling. So the secret, growing more and more bitter every day--for we received no letters--rested between us two. As the time wore on, we became miserably anxious. Had Mr. Lee utterly abandoned his daughter? Would he never return to his home and prove how true and loving she had always been? His cruel anger had thrown her almost upon a bed of death, yet he could go from his home without a word of inquiry or comfort. Jessie was a proud girl, as I have said more than once, and as young Lawrence had good reason to know; but all her haughty self-esteem gave way where her father was concerned. She never blamed him, nor ceased to pine for his presence. What it was that had separated them she could not understand; but that her father was unjust or wrong, never entered her mind for an instant. As for me--but what right had I in the matter? The right of anxiety such as eats all happiness out of a human life--the hungry feeling of a beggar that dares not ask for food. I think we should have gone insane--Jessie and I--if this terrible anxiety had been without its relief; but, as days and weeks passed, bringing no letter, no message, we sunk gradually into a state of despair, not the less wearying that it was silent. Thus six months crept by. The duties of life went on--the household routine met with no obstruction. It was wonderful how little change appeared around us. Yet the tower-chamber was empty, and _he_ was gone,--we, two lonely women, lived on, to all appearance, the same; but oh! how changed at heart! CHAPTER LXIV. NEWS FROM ABROAD. We heard of Mr. Lee once or twice through the public journals, now travelling in the Holy Land, again in the heart of Russia, but no letters came. We wrote to him more than once, but directed at random, and our letters probably never reached him. One day, when Lottie was in the room, I took up a New York journal, and read this paragraph from a Paris correspondent,--