"Thank you. I hope the contents will prove worthy of the care and
labour of its transmission. I see it is dated Paris--one year ago,
nearly. I am much obliged by your kind courtesy. Good-day."

Dr. Hargrove walked on, and, somewhat disappointed in not receiving
a moiety of information by way of recompense, the postmaster added:

"If you find it is not your letter bring it back, and I will start it
on another voyage of discovery, for it certainly deserves to get
home."

"There is no doubt whatever about it. It was intended for me."

Unfolding the letter, he had glanced at the signature, and now
hurrying homeward, read as follows:

"PARIS, _February 1st_,

"REV. PEYTON HARGROVE,--Hoping that, while entirely ignorant of
the facts and circumstances, you unintentionally inflicted upon
me an incalculable injury, I reluctantly address you with
reference to a subject fraught with inexpressible pain and
humiliation. Through your agency the happiness and welfare of my
only child, and the proud and unblemished name of a noble family,
have been wellnigh wrecked; but my profound reverence for your
holy office, persuades me to believe that you were unconsciously
the dupe of unprincipled and designing parties. When my son
Cuthbert entered ---- University, he was all that my fond heart
desired, all that his sainted mother could have hoped, and no
young gentleman on the wide Continent gave fairer promise of