The Rector of St. Mark's

ken, it had been hardening over with a stony crust which nothing, it seemed, could break. And yet there were times when

and occasionally there stole over her a strange disquietude as

he sight of Anna's white face and the knowing what made it so white was a constant reproach, and conscience gradu

another than herself her guilt should come to light. What if Thornton Hastings should find her out? She was half afraid he suspected he

o, in sad perplexity, which wore upon her visibly, the autumn days went on unti

, August 31st, Edwar

n the grassy orchard, where the apple-blossoms were dropping from the trees and the air was full of insects' hum and the song of matin birds. She was the wealthy Mrs. Meredith now, and he was dead in Strasburgh. True to her he had been to the last; for he had

e folds of her cashmere robe, as if it were the brown locks they were smoothing just as they used to do. Then came a thought of Anna, whose face wore much the loo

o Arthur Leighton. I surely need tell no one else; not yet, at least, lest he has outlived his love for Anna. I can trust to his discretion and to his honor,

d herself to write to Arthur Leighton, confessing the fraud imposed upon him

rote in conclusion; "but she does not know of the stolen letter, and I

ppy at another's sacrifice. So she never hinted that it was possible for Arthur to keep his word pledged to Lucy Harcourt, and, as she finished her letter and placed it in an envelope with the one which Arthur had sent to Anna,