, after all, better a right
arm--than a leg," she pursued,--"at least, I think so!"

"Certainly!" murmured Bellew.

"A man with only one leg, you see, would be almost as helpless as
an--old woman with a crippled foot,--"

"Who grows younger, and brighter, every year!" added Bellew, turning to
her with his pleasant smile, "yes, and I think,--prettier!"

"Oh, Mr. Bellew!" exclaimed Miss Priscilla shaking her head at him
reprovingly, yet looking pleased, none the less,--"how can you be so
ridiculous,--Good gracious me!"

"Why, it was the Sergeant who put it into my head,--"

"The Sergeant?"

"Yes,--it was after I had given him your message about peaches, Aunt
Priscilla and--"

"Oh dear heart!" exclaimed Miss Priscilla, at this juncture, "Prudence
is out, to-night, and I promised to bake the bread for her, and here I
sit chatting, and gossipping while that bread goes rising, and rising
all over the kitchen!" And Miss Priscilla laid aside her sewing, and
catching up her stick, hurried to the door.

"And I was almost forgetting to wish you 'many happy returns of the day,
Aunt Priscilla!'" said Bellew, rising.

At this familiar appellation, Anthea turned sharply, in time to see him
stoop, and kiss Miss Priscilla's small, white hand; whereupon Anthea
must needs curl her lip at his broad back. Then he opened the door, and
Miss Priscilla tapped away, even more quickly than usual.

Anthea was half-sitting, half-kneeling among the cushions in the corner
of the deep window, apparently still lost in contemplation of the moon.
So much so, that she did not stir, or even lower her up-ward gaze, when
Bellew came, and stood beside her.

Therefore, taking advantage of the fixity of her regard, he, once more,
became absorbed in her loveliness. Surely a most unwise proceeding--in
Arcadia, by the light of a midsummer moon! And he mentally contrasted
the dark, proud beauty of her face, with that of all the women he had
ever known,--to their utter, and complete disparagement.

"Well?" enquired Anthea, at last, perfectly conscious of his look, and
finding the silence growing irksome, yet still with her eyes
averted,--"Well, Mr. Bellew?"

"On the contrary," he answered, "the moon is on the wane!"

"The moon!" she repeated, "Suppose it is,--what then?"

"True happiness can only come riding astride the full moon you
know,--you remember old Nannie told us so."

"And you--believed it?" she enquired scornfully.

"Why, of course!