"Good heaven, my dear little woman," said he, "how do you come here? Who could have thought of seeing you! Nothing the matter? Ada is well?"
"Quite well. Lovelier than ever, Richard!"
"Ah!" he said, leaning back in his chair. "My poor cousin! I was writing to you, Esther."
So worn and haggard as he looked, even in the fullness of his handsome youth, leaning back in his chair and crushing the closely written sheet of paper in his hand!
"Have you been at the trouble of writing all that, and am I not to read it after all?" I asked.
"Oh, my dear," he returned with a hopeless gesture. "You may read it in the whole room. It is all over here."
I mildly entreated him not to be despondent. I told him that I had heard by chance of his being in difficulty and had come to consult with him what c
