It will certainly be a kind act, Mr. Armand, and one, the motive
for which they cannot but highly appreciate," said Mary, with an
inward glow of admiration.

It was about eleven o'clock on the next day that Mr. Armand pulled
the bell at the door of Mr. Ludlow's beautiful dwelling, and then
waited with a feeling of impatience for the servant to answer the
summons. But he waited in vain. No servant came. He rang again, and
again waited long enough for a servant to come half a dozen times.
Then he looked up at the house and saw that all the shutters were
closed; and down upon the marble steps, and perceived that they were
covered with dust and dirt; and on the bell-handle, and noted its
loss of brightness.

"Miss Jones must have been mistaken," he said to himself, as he gave
the bell a third pull, and then waited, but in vain, for the
hall-door to be swung open.

"Who can it be?" asked Emily, a good deal disturbed, as the bell
rang violently for the third time, and in company with Adeline, went
softly into the parlor to take a peep through one of the shutters.

"Mr. Armand, as I live!" she ejaculated, in a low, husky whisper,
turning pale. "I would not have _him_ know that we are in town for
the world!"

And then she stole away quietly, with her heart leaping and
fluttering in her bosom, lest he should instinctively perceive her
presence.

Finding that admission was not to be obtained, Mr. Armand concluded
that the family had gone to some other watering place, and turned
away irresolute as to his future course. As he was passing down
Broadway, he met Uncle Joseph.

"So the Ludlows are all out of town," he said.

"So they are not!" replied Uncle Joseph, rather crustily, for he had
just been thinking over their strange conduct, and it irritated him.

"Why, I have been ringing there for a quarter of an hour, and no one
came to the door; and the house is all shut up."

"Yes; and if you had ringing for a quarter of a century, it would
all have been the same."

"I can't understand you," said Mr. Armand.

"Why, the truth is, Mr. Ludlow cannot go to the Springs with them
this season, and they are so afraid that it will become known that
they are burying themselves in the back part of the house, and
denying all visiters."

"Why so? I cannot comprehend it."

"All fashionable people, you know, are expected to go to the
sea-shore or the Springs; and my sister and her two eldest daughters
are so silly, as to fear th