nge and subtle
influence in all that he said and did that made her forget everything
that was unpleasant and be happy in his presence.

A perfect content grew upon her; she forgot her fears--her loneliness--
her quarrel with Fred; she remembered only the happy company of the
present.

Under the intoxication of the man's presence she ceased to be the
tired, discouraged, irritable woman, and became once more the Evelyn
Grant whose vivacity and wit had made her conspicuous in the brightest
company.

She tried to remind herself of some of the unpleasant things that
neighborhood gossip said of Rance Belmont--of Mrs. Corbett's dislike of
him--but in the charm of his presence they all faded into vague
unrealities.

There was flattery, clever, hidden flattery, which seemed like
adoration, in every word he spoke, every tone of his voice, every
glance of his coal-black eyes, that seemed in some way to atone for the
long, gray, monotonous days that had weighed so heavily upon her
spirits.

"Are you always frightened when you are left alone?" he asked her.
Every word was a caress, the tone of his voice implying that she should
never be left alone, the magnetism of his presence assuring her that
she would never be left alone again.

"I was never left alone in the evening before," she said. "I thought I
was very brave until to-night, but it was horrible--it makes me shudder
to think of it."

"Don't think!" he said gently.

"Fred thought the twins would be here, I know, or he would not have
stayed away," Evelyn said, wishing to do justice to Fred, and feeling
indefinitely guilty about something.

"The twins are jolly good company,--oh, I say!" laughed Rance, in tones
so like her brothers-in-law that Evelyn laughed delightedly. It was
lovely to have someone to laugh with.

"But where are the heavenly twins to-night?"

"I suppose they saw a flock of ducks going over, or heard the honk-honk
of wild geese," she answered. "It does not take much to distract them
from labor--and they have a soul above it, you know."

Rance Belmont need not have asked her about the twins; he had met them
on their way to the Plover Slough and had given Reginald the loan of
his gun; he had learned from them that Fred, too, was away.

"But if dear Aunt Patience will only lift her anchor all will yet be
well, and the dear twins will not need to be bothered with anything so
beastly as farm-work." His tone and manner were so like the twins that
E