Anna and Adah

Mrs. Richards hurried up to Anna's chamber, where Willie still was
perched by Anna's pillow, while Adah, with her bonnet in her lap, sat a
little apart, traces of tears and agitation upon her cheeks, but a look
of happiness in the brown eyes fixed so wistfully on Anna's fair, sweet
face.

"Please, mother," said Anna, motioning her away, "leave us alone a
while. Shut the door, and see that no one comes near."

Mrs. Richards obeyed, and Anna, waiting until she was out of hearing,
resumed the conversation just where it had been interrupted.

"And so you are the one who wrote that advertisement which I read. Let
me see--the very night my brother came home from Europe. I remember he
laughed because I was so interested, and he accidentally tore off the
name to light his cigar, so I forgot it entirely. What shall I call you,
please?"

Adah was tempted to answer her at once, "Adah Hastings"--it seemed so
wrong to impose in any way on that frank, sweet woman; but she
remembered Mrs. Worthington's injunction, and for her sake she
refrained, keeping silent a moment, and then breaking out impetuously:
"Please, Miss Richards, don't ask my real name, for I'd rather not give
it now. I will tell you of the past, though I did not ever mean to do
that; but something about you makes me know I can trust you." And then,
amid a shower of tears, in which Anna's, too, were mingled, Adah told
her sad story.