ily,
especially such a quiet family as that at the cottage. Besides, the
lovers were too childishly happy to be at all reticent over their
felicity. Before David was turned away that night to the hotel which he
and Mr. Roy both inhabited, every body in the house knew quite well that
Mr. Dalziel and Miss Janetta were to be married.

And every body had of course suspected it long ago, and was not in the
least surprised, so that the mistress of the household herself was half
ashamed to confess how very much surprised _she_ had been. However, as
every body seemed delighted, for most people have a "sneaking kindness"
toward young lovers, she kept her own counsel; smiled blandly over her
old cook's half-pathetic congratulations to the young couple, who were
"like the young bears, with all their troubles before them," and laughed
at the sympathetic forebodings of the girls' faithful maid, a rather
elderly person, who was supposed to have been once "disappointed," and
who "hoped Mr. Dalziel was not too young to know his own mind." Still,
in spite of all, the family were very much delighted, and not a little
proud.

David walked in, master of the position now, directly after breakfast,
and took the sisters out for a walk, both of them, declaring he was as
much encumbered as if he were going to marry two young ladies at once,
but bearing his lot with great equanimity. His love-making indeed was so
extraordinarily open and undisguised that it did not much matter who was
by. And Helen was of that sweet negative nature that seemed made for the
express purpose of playing "gooseberry."

Directly they had departed, Mr. Roy came in.

He might have been a far less acute observer than he was not to detect at
once that "something had happened" in the little family. Miss Williams
kept him waiting several minutes, and when she did come in her manner
was nervous and agitated. They spoke about the weather and one or two
trivial things, but more than once Fortune felt him looking at her with
that keen, kindly observation which had been sometimes, during all these
weeks now running into months, of almost daily meeting, and of the
closest intimacy--a very difficult thing to bear.

He was exceedingly kind to her always; there was no question of that.
Without making any show of it, he seemed always to know where she was
and what she was doing. Nothing ever lessened his silent care of her.
If ever she wanted help, there he was to give