arch of a fresh field."

"Then you are not to stay long?" said Louise, as she smiled on him with
all her former kindness. "Blue Creek is really a pleasant place when you
are used to it. You are unfortunate in seeing it at this season."

Her companion made some light answer, and they went on chatting like a
pair of old friends. Louise was soon delighted to find that the stranger
cared for music as much as she did, and was familiar with the best works
of the masters, while he showed a thorough acquaintance with New York
and its surroundings which was remarkable in a man who professed to have
spent his life in California. There was something indescribably charming
in his quiet ease of manner and in his boyish fun; and Louise found
herself thoroughly enjoying their pleasant, off-hand conversation,
though all the time she was conscious of a hazy resemblance to some one
whom she had met before. Moved by this uncertain idea, she studied him
closely, while in her own mind she went over and over her list of
acquaintances, trying to find the person of whom she was thinking. Nor
could she tell wherein the resemblance lay, whether in the voice, the
manner, or in some feature; and yet it was there all the time, a
fleeting, haunting likeness to some former friend. Then she thought she
had a clue, for, in answer to a sudden jest on her part, the stranger
laughed until his glasses fell off and dropped to the floor, and as he
stooped to pick them up, she caught sight of a tiny scar on his right
eyelid. Surely she had seen that scar before, or, at least, one much
like it; and once more she went through her friends, trying to place the
mark, but with no better success than before.

For a long half hour they sat there, while Mr. Atherden entertained her
so well that she was quite unconscious of Dr. Brownlee, who came to the
parlor door more than once to cast a longing glance in her direction.
But her back was turned towards him, and she was too much interested in
their talk to heed the proudly defiant glance with which Mr. Atherden
met the gaze of his rival. The doctor was not so slow to interpret his
meaning, and he gave his mustache a vicious jerk, as he walked away to
pay his homage at some other shrine. Mr. Atherden watched him with an
amused smile; then he turned to Allie who stood before him with a plate
of sandwiches in her hand.

"Ah, thank you, my little maid," he said with infinite condescension,
while he helped Louise and the