."

The two men had moved on, and were now at some distance from the
point where the sight of the fountain and summer-house brought a
vivid recollection to the mind of Mr. Allison of his interview with
Fanny.

"Our ways part here," said the old man.

"Will you not keep on to the house? Your visits always give
pleasure," said Mr. Markland.

"No--not at this time. I have some matters at home requiring present
attention."

They stood and looked into each other's faces for a few moments, as
if both had something yet in their minds unsaid, but not yet in a
shape for utterance--then separated with a simple "Good-by."

CHAPTER XIII.

THIS new testimony in regard to the presence of Mr. Lyon in the
neighbourhood, at a time when he was believed to be hundreds of
miles away, and still receding as rapidly as swift car and steamer
could bear him, might well disturb, profoundly, the spirit of Mr.
Markland. What could it mean? How vainly he asked himself this
question. He was walking onward, with his eyes upon the ground, when
approaching feet made him aware of the proximity of some one.
Looking up, he saw a man coming down the road from his house, and
only a few rods distant from him.

"Mr. Lyon, now!" he exclaimed, in a low, agitated voice. "What does
this mean?" he added, as his mind grew bewildered, and his footsteps
were stayed.

Another moment, and he saw that he had erred in regard to the man's
identity. It wars not Mr. Lyon, but a stranger. Advancing again,
they met, and the stranger, pausing, said:

"Mr. Markland, I believe?"

"That is my name, sir," was answered.

"And my name is Willet."

"Ah, yes!" said Mr. Markland extending his hand. "I learned, to-day,
in the city, that you had purchased Ashton's fine place. I am happy,
sir, to make your acquaintance, and if there is any thing in which I
can serve you, do not hesitate to command me."

"Many thanks for your kind offer," returned Mr. Willet. "A stranger
who comes to reside in the country has need of friendly
consideration; and I stand just in that relation to my new
neighbours. To certain extent I am ignorant of the ways and means
appertaining to the locality; and can only get enlightened through
an intercourse with the older residents. But I have no right to be
obtrusive, or to expect too much concession to a mere stranger.
Until I am better known, I will only ask the sojourner's
kindness--not the confidence one friend gives to another."

T