* * * * *

"Is not in her room?"

"No sir and her bed has not been rumpled."

"Where in the world can she be?"

"I don't know, but here is a note she left."

"What does she say? read it Annette."

"She says she feels that you were unjust to the Earl and that she hopes
you will forgive her the steps she has taken, but by the time the letter
reaches you she expects to be the Countess of Clarendon."

"Poor foolish girl, you see what comes of taking a stranger to your
bosom and making so much of him."

"That's just like you, John Anderson, every thing that goes wrong is
blamed on me. I almost wish I was dead."

"I wish so too," thought Anderson but he concluded it was prudent to
keep the wish to himself.

John Anderson had no faith whatever in the pretensions of his new
son-in-law, but his vain and foolish wife on the other hand was elated
at the dazzling prospects of her daughter, and often in her imagination
visited the palatial residence of "My Son, the Earl," and was graciously