o get out of her chair
without pushing him away--a feat apparently impossible. Ariel Tabor,
in rising, placed her hand upon his out-stretched arm, quite as if he
had offered it to assist her; he fell back a step in complete
astonishment; she rose quickly, and released his arm.

"Thank you," she said, beamingly. "It's quite all my fault that you're
tired. I've been thoughtless to keep you so long, and you have been
standing, too!" She swept lightly and quickly to the door, where she
paused, gathering her skirts. "I shall not detain you another instant!
And if Mr. Louden comes, this afternoon, I'll remember. I'll not let
him come in, of course. It will be perhaps pleasanter to talk over my
proposition as we walk!"

There was a very faint, spicy odor like wild roses and cinnamon left in
the room where Martin Pike stood alone, staring whitely at the open
doorway.

XIII

THE WATCHER AND THE WARDEN

There was a custom of Canaan, time-worn and seldom honored in the
breach, which put Ariel, that afternoon, in easy possession of a coign
of vantage commanding the front gate. The heavy Sunday dinner was
finished in silence (on the part of Judge Pike, deafening) about three
o'clock, and, soon after, Mamie tossed a number of cushions out upon
the stoop between the cast-iron dogs,--Sam Warden having previously
covered the steps with a rug and placed several garden chairs near by
on the grass. These simple preparations concluded, Eugene sprawled
comfortably upon the rug, and Mamie seated herself near him, while
Ariel wandered with apparent aimlessness about the lawn, followed by
the gaze of Mr. Bantry, until Miss Pike begged her, a little
petulantly, to join them.

She came, looking about her dreamily, and touching to her lips, now and
then, with an absent air, a clover blossom she had found in the longer
grass against the fence. She stopped to pat the neck of one of the
cast-iron deer, and with grave eyes proffered the clover-top first for
inspection, then as food. There were those in the world who, seeing
her, might have wondered that the deer did not play Galatea and come to
life.

"No?" she said, aloud, to the steadfast head. "You won't? What a
mistake to be made of cast-iron!" She smiled and nodded to a clump of
lilac-bushes near a cedar-tree, and to nothing else--so far as Eugene
and Mamie could see,--then walked thoughtfully to the steps.

"Who in the world were you speaking to?" asked Mamie, curious