nestly at Amy, while Nell (so she tells me) threw into her face as great an amount of sympathy as she could express. Amy also looked at her (for it was at her—there was no mistake about it!) with a look of almost tearful supplication; and, as she passed, evidently trembling, there fell from underneath her long trailing shawl, a letter. Her father seemed to hear the slight rustle of the paper, and quickly turned; but I was too quick for him. The letter had no sooner reached the ground than it was covered by my foot, and the Dragon saw me earnestly engaged in pointing out to Nelly an interesting steamer which was trailing its smoke in the far distance. I suppose he was satisfied, for they continued to ascend the cliff. I secured the letter, and, watching my opportunity, as Amy slightly turned her head towards us, I gave the document, with stage effect, into Nell's hands, while Nell waved her handkerchief as a friendly signal of "All 's right."
Then we went down to a sequestered part of the beach, and, sitting upon a fragment of rock, Nelly read the letter to me. It was addressed "To Miss ," and was written in pencil, in a neat, elegant hand. It ran thus:—
