Good-bye, Miss Hyde; don't think I'm crying because there is a drop just here. It's something else, I don't just know what, but crying is out of my--my--Oh, Miss Hyde! Miss Hyde! I do think my heart is breaking. I can't stand it. Don't expect me to say good-bye. Don't think hard of me for going. What else can I say. Oh, do, do think well of me; I am not a bad girl, nor ungrateful, believe that, and believe me your true LOTTIE till death. I read the letter through more than once. Then I sat down and deliberated with my eyes on the book. Had I a right to read it, after all I had seen and heard of this woman; was I justified in searching out her secrets in that way? But for the suspicions that still haunted me regarding Mrs. Lee's death, I should have decided against it, but I had learned too much for continued hesitation. Still, my very soul recoiled from the task of searching the life of this woman. When I reached forth my hand for the book, it seemed as if my fingers were poisoned with the touch. I would not take the volume to my own room, but sat down by the window and read it through before I arose from my seat. The pages frenzied me. Lottie wrote a bold, plain hand, copying anything before her clearly enough. In places the writing gave evidence of hurry and nervousness, but it was in no part really difficult to read. The journal began at the marriage of Miss Wells with old Mr. Dennison, and seemed to have been detached from the other portion of her life about that time. If anything preceded it, Lottie had failed to take a copy. CHAPTER LXVI. MRS. DENNISON'S JOURNAL. How many years will this last? I did not expect that this dull stagnation of life would oppress me so. I knew that he was seventy years of age, and thought it would be no great hardship to be petted as an old man's darling, for the few years that might follow. Indeed, he is a gentleman, and loves me, I am sure, more devotedly than ever a young man loved his bride. At first I really thought myself almost happy. It was so pleasant to get away from my old home, after it had been torn to pieces by hungry creditors, and all the old servants driven into new places, that protection and kindness made everything seem like a blessed new life. Mr. Dennison told me that he has loved me ever since I was a little girl, and always intended to make me his wife. He has been a firm, firm friend to my father, I know that well enough, and never would have permitted the old home to be torn up had poor papa lived. As it is, he let all the rest go, and rescuing Cora and myself from the wreck, made me his wife and gave her the liberty she would not take.