Then a dozen times was an answer commenced, blotted with tears, and finally destroyed, until Ada, burying her face in her mother's lap, sobbed out, "Oh, mother, I cannot do it.

I cannot write to tell them how poor we are, for I remember that Jenny was proud, and laughed at the schoolgirls whose fathers were not rich." So the letter was never answered, and as St.Leon about that time started on a tour through Europe, he knew nothing of their change of circumstances.

On his way home he had in Paris met with Harry Graham, who had been his classmate, and who now won from him a promise that on his return to America he would visit his parents, in S----.

He did so, and there, as we have seen, met with Ada Harcourt, whose face, voice, and manner reminded him so strangely of the Ada he had known years before, and whom he had never forgotten.
As the reader will have supposed, the sewing-woman whose daughter Lucy Dayton so heartily despised was none other than Mrs.Linwood, of New Haven, who had taken her husband's first name in order to avoid the persecutions of Uncle Israel.

The day following the party St.Leon spent in making inquiries concerning Mrs.Harcourt, and the information thus obtained determined him to start at once for New Haven, in order to ascertain if his suspicions are correct.
The result of his journey we already know.