plunged by this sudden death of her only relative. As this beautiful
and distinguished young woman had been and still was a great belle
in her special circle, her present homeless, if not penniless,
position led to many surmises. Would she marry, and, if so, to
which of the many wealthy or prominent men who had openly courted
her would she accord her hand? In the present egotistic state of
my mind I secretly flattered myself that I was right in concluding
that she would say yes to no man's entreaty till a certain newly-made
widower's year of mourning had expired.

But this opinion received something of a check when in a quiet talk
with a reporter I learned that it was openly stated by those who
had courage to speak that the tie which had certainly existed at one
time between Mr. Jeffrey and the handsome Miss Tuttle had been
entirely of her own weaving, and that the person of Veronica Moore,
rather than the large income she commanded, had been the attractive
power which had led him away from the older sister. This seemed
improbable; for the charms of the poor little bride were not to be
compared with those of her maturer sister. Yet, as we all know,
there are other attractions than those offered by beauty. I have
since heard it broadly stated that the peculiar twitch of the lip
observable in all the Moores had proved an irresistible charm in
the unfortunate Veronica, making her a radiant image when she
laughed. This was by no means a rare occurrence, so they said,
before the fancy took her to be married in the ill-starred home of
her ancestors.

The few lines of attempted explanation which she had left behind
for her husband seemed to impose on no one. To those who knew the
young couple well it was an open proof of her insanity; to those