She sat down, and opening the letter with hands that gave no sign of inward agitation or suspense, read it through.

It was dated at Havana, and was as follows: "MRS.

HELEN DINNEFORD: MADAM--My physician tells me that I cannot live a week--may die at any moment; and I am afraid to die with one unconfessed and unatoned sin upon my conscience--a sin into which I was led by you, the sharer of my guilt.

I need not go into particulars.

You know to what I refer--the ruin of an innocent, confiding young man, your daughter's husband.