elf and
unjust to her. In her eyes it would probably appear to be the act of a
man who had been suddenly spurred to action by the sight of a rival, and
this, if Roberta was the woman he believed her to be, would prejudice
her against him. And yet he knew very well that these reasons would
avail nothing if he should see her as he intended. He had found that he
was much more in love with her than he had supposed, and he felt
positively certain that the next time he was alone with her he would
declare his passion.

Another thing that he felt he should consider was that the presence of
Keswick, if looked upon with a philosophic eye, was not a reason for
immediate action. If the old engagement had positively been broken off,
he was at the house merely as a family friend; while, on the other hand,
if the rupture had not been absolute, and if Roberta really loved this
tall Southerner and wished to marry him, there was a feeling of honor
about Lawrence which forbade him to interfere at this moment. When she
came to New York he would find out how matters really stood, and then he
would determine on his own action.

And yet he would have proposed to Roberta that moment if he had had the
opportunity. Her personal presence would have banished philosophy, and
even honor.

Lawrence was a long time in coming to these conclusions, and it was late
in the afternoon when he despatched his note. Having now given up his
North Carolina trip--one object of which had been still another visit to
Midbranch on his return--he was obliged to wait until the next day for a
train to the North; and, consequently, he had another evening to devote
to reflections. These, after a time, became unsatisfactory. He had told
the exact truth in his note to Roberta, for he felt that it was
necessary for him to leave that part of the country in order to make
impossible an interview for which he believed the proper time had not
arrived. He was consulting his best interests, and also, no doubt, those
of the lady. And yet, in spite of this reasoning, he was not satisfied
with himself. He felt that his note was not entirely honest and true.
There was subterfuge about it, and something of duplicity. This he
believed was foreign to his nature, and he did not like it.

Lawrence had scarcely finished his breakfast the next morning when Mr
Junius Keswick arrived at the door of his cottage. This gentleman had
walked over from Midbranch and was a little dusty about his b