Joy Irving had unpacked her trunks and set her small apartment to
rights, when the postman's ring sounded, and a moment later a letter
was slipped under her door.

She picked it up, and recognised Arthur Stuart's penmanship. She sat
down, holding the unopened letter in her hands.

"It is Arthur's message, appointing a time and place for our
meeting," she said to herself. "How long ago that strange interview
with him seems!--yet it was only yesterday. How utterly the whole of
life has changed for me since then! The universe seems larger, God
nearer, and life grander. I am as one who slept and dreamed of
darkness and sorrow, and awakes to light and joy."

But when she opened the envelope and read the few hastily written
lines within, an exclamation of surprise escaped her lips. It was a
brief note from Arthur Stuart and began abruptly without an address
(a manner more suggestive of strong passion than any endearing
words).

"The first item which my eye fell upon in the telegraphic column of
the morning paper, was the death of my wife in the Retreat for the
Insane. I leave by the first express to bring her body here for
burial.

"A merciful providence has saved us the necessity of defying the laws
of God or man, and opened the way for me to claim you before all the
world as my worshipped wife so soon as propriety will permit.