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” “You! Why, you have been an angel to her,” he exclaimed impatiently. "Your sister is dead," said he, in a deep whisper. Behind the Avenue was a little hill, and an iron-fenced path went over the crest of this to a stile under an elm-tree, and forked there, with one branch going back into the Avenue again. “We were good friends in Paris, weren’t we? You made me all sorts of promises, we planned no end of nice things, and then—without a word to any one you disappeared. He dared not go on. But I had to know for sure. “He and I don’t seem to get on at all with our fellow-guests, as Mrs.
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