r, nor a
window-seat that did not remind Calvert of some incident of the past.
He missed his favourite song, "A place in thy memory, dearest," from the
piano, and he sought for it and put it back where it used to be; and he
then went over to her table to arrange the books as they were wont to be
long ago, and came suddenly upon a small morocco case. He opened it It
was a miniature of Loyd, the man he hated the most on earth. It was an
ill done portrait, and gave an affected thoughtfulness and elevation
to his calm features which imparted insufferable pretension to them;
Calvert held out the picture at arm's length, and laughed scornfully as
he looked at it. He had but time to lay it down on the table when Emily
entered the room. She approached him hurriedly, and with an agitated
manner. "Oh, Colonel Calvert--" she began.

"Why not Harry, brother Harry, as I used to be, Milly dearest," said he,
as he caught her hand in both his own. "What has happened to forfeit for
me my old place _in_ your esteem?"

"Nothing, nothing, but all is so changed; you have grown to be such a
great man, and we have become lost to all that goes on in the world."

"And where is your sister, will she not come to see me?"

"You startled her, you gave her such a shock, when you stood up in the
boat and returned her salute, that she was quite overcome, and has gone
to her room. Aunt Grainger is with her, and told me to say--that is, she
hoped, if you would not take it ill, or deem it unkind--"

"Go on, dearest; nothing that comes from your lips can possibly seem
unkind; go on."

"But I cannot go on," she cried, and burst into tears and covered her
face with her hands.

"I never thought--so little forethought has selfishness--that I was to
bring sorrow and trouble under this roof. Go back, and tell your aunt
that I hope she will favour me with five minutes of her company; that I
see what I greatly blame myself for not seeing before, how full of sad
memories my presence here must prove. Go, darling, say this, and bid me
good-bye before you go."

"Oh, Harry, do not say this. I see you are angry with us. I see you
think us all unkind; but it was the suddenness of your coming; and
Florence has grown so nervous of late, so disposed to give way to all
manner of fancies."

"She imagines, in fact," said he, haughtily, "that I have come back to
persecute her with attentions which she has already rejected. Isn't that
so?"

"No. I don't think--I me