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"Oh, will she call? Shall I see her?" Katy asked, beginning to feel alarht of Sybil Grey, with all her polish andthe winter in New Orleans with her late husband's relatives She will not return till spring," Wilford replied "But do not look so distressed, for I tell you solemnly that I never loved another as I love you, my wife Do you believe me?"

"Yes," and Katy's head drooped upon his shoulder

She was satisfied with regard to Sybil Grandon, only hoping she would not have to meet her when she came home But the picture Whose was that? Not Sybil's certainly, else Juno would have known The picture troubled her, but she dared not speak of it, Wilford had seery at Juno Still, she would probe him a little further, and so she continued: "I do believe you, and if I ever see this Sybil I will try to i your friends one better than the rest, one almost as dear as I a, or is she dead?"

Wilford thought of that hurave whose headstone bore the inscription: "Genevra Laed 22," and he answered quickly: "If there ever was such a one, she certainly is not living Are you satisfied?"

Katy answered that she was, but perfect confidence in her husband's affection had been terribly shaken by Juno's avowal and his partial admission of an earlier love, and Katy's heart was too full to sleep, even after she had retired Visions of Sybil Grey, blended with visions of another whom she called the "dead fancy," flitted before her mind, as she lay awake, while hour after hour went by, until tired nature could endure no longer, and just as the great city aking up and the rattle of wheels was beginning to be heard upon the distant pavements, she fell away to sleep