with the mingled
perfumes of the garden border below, an early star had fallen,
sparkling, upon the blue-grey train of departing day, a whispering
breeze crept, soft-footed, through the shrubbery. Esther lay back in the
long chair and closed her eyes. For thirty perfect moments she waited
until the click of the garden gate announced his coming. Then she sprang
up, smiling, blushing,--peering through the screen of vines--

A man was coming up the path. At first sight he seemed a stranger, some
one who walked heavily, slowly--the doctor's step was quick and
springing. Yet it was he! She drew back, shyly, yet looked again. Some
one, in a pretty green silk gown, had slipped out from under the big elm
and was meeting him with outstretched hands.

"Mother," thought Esther, "how strange!"

They had paused and were talking together. Mary's high, sweet laugh
floated over the flowers, then her voice, a mere murmur. His voice,
lower still. Then silence. They had turned back, together, down the
lilac walk.

Esther sat down again. She felt numb. She closed her eyes as she had
done before. But all the dreams, all the happy thoughts were gone. She
opened them abruptly to find Aunt Amy staring down upon her, dumbly,
wringing her hands. In the warm summer air the girl shivered.

"What is it?" she asked a little sharply. But Aunt Amy seemed neither to
see nor hear her. She flitted by like some wandering grey moth into the
dim garden, still wringing her hands.

Esther sat up. "How utterly absurd," she said aloud. Indeed she felt
heartily ashamed of herself. To behave like a foolish child, to startle
Aunt Amy into a fit and all because her mother and Dr. Callandar had
gone for a stroll down the lilac walk--the most natural thing in the
world. They would return presently. She had only to wait. But the
waiting was not quite the same. Those golden moments already sparkled in
the past. Nothing could ever be quite the same as if he had come
straight up the path to where she waited for him in the dusk.

* * * * *

In the living-room, Jane who had small patience with twilight, had
lighted the lamp. Its shaded beams fell in golden bars across the
veranda floor. The sky was full of stars, now, but the voice of the
breeze was growing shrill, as if whistling up the rain.

They were coming back along the side of the house. Esther rose quickly
and slipped into the safety of the commonplace with Jane and the lig