ever was one. Why, she used to make a villain like me
kneel with her every night, and say the Lord's Prayer."

For an instant, a puzzling thought crossed Anna's brain as to the
circumstances which could have brought her brother every night to Lily's
side, but it passed away immediately as she rejoined:

"Then she is safe in heaven, and there are no tears there. We'll try to
meet her some day. You could not help her dying. She might have died had
she been your wife, so I'd try to think it happened for the best, and
you'll soon get to believing it did. That's my experience. You are young
yet, and life has much in store for you. You'll find some one to fill
Lily's place; some one whom we shall all think worthy of you, and
_we'll_ be so happy together."

She did not speak of Alice Johnson, but she thought of her. John, too,
thought of Alice Johnson, wondering how she would look to him who might
have married the daughter of a count. He had not told Anna of this, and
he was about preparing to leave her, when, changing the conversation,
she said:

"Did we ever write to you--no, we didn't--about that mysterious
stranger, that man who stopped for a day or two at the hotel, nearly two
years ago, and made so many inquiries about us and our place, pretending
he wanted to buy it in exchange for city property, and that some one had
told him it was for sale?"

"What man? Who was he?" John asked; and Anna replied:

"He called himself Bronson."

"Describe him," John said, settling back so that his face was partly
concealed in the shadow.

"Rather tall, firmly-knit figure, with what I imagine people mean when
they say a bullet-head, that is, a round, hard head, with keen gray
eyes, sandy mustache, and a scar or something on his right temple. Are
you cold?" and she turned quickly to her brother, who had shuddered
involuntarily at her description, for well he knew now who that man was.

But why had he come there? This John did not know, and as it was
necessary to appear natural, he answered to Anna's inquiry, that he
thought he had taken cold, as the cars were badly warmed.

"But, go on; tell me more of this Bronson. He heard our house was for
sale. How, pray?"

"From some one in New York; and the landlord suggested it might have
been you."

"It's false. I never told him so," and John spoke savagely.

"Then you did know him? What was he? We were half afraid of him, he
behaved so strangely," Anna said, looking wonderingly a