"

Her altered tone--the abrupt manner in which she looked away from
me and hid her face on my shoulder--the hesitation which silenced
her before she had completed her question, all told me, but too
plainly, to whom the half-expressed inquiry pointed.

"I thought, Laura, that you and I were never to refer to him
again," I said gently.

"You had a letter from him?" she persisted.

"Yes," I replied, "if you must know it."

"Do you mean to write to him again?"

I hesitated.  I had been afraid to tell her of his absence from
England, or of the manner in which my exertions to serve his new
 and projects had connected me with his departure.  What
answer could I make? He was gone where no letters could reach him
for months, perhaps for years, to come.

"Suppose I do mean to write to him again," I said at last.  "What
then, Laura?"

Her cheek grew burning hot against my neck, and her arms trembled
and tightened round me.

"Don't tell him about THE TWENTY-SECOND," she whispered. 
"Promise, Marian--pray promise you will not even mention my name