ha! the pinch lies there, eh?" said the Squire, and he said it in
better humor than he would have said it ten days before. "What's the
trouble, Philip?"

"Well, sir, I think she always had a tenderness for Reuben; I think she
loves him now in her heart."

"So, so! The wind lies there, eh? Well, let it bide, my boy; let it bide
awhile. We shall know something more of the matter soon."

And there the discourse of the Squire ended.

Meantime, however, Rose and Adele are having a little private interview
above stairs, which in its subject-matter is not wholly unrelated to the
same theme.

"Rose," Adele had said, as she fondled her in her winning way, "your
brother Phil has been very kind to me."

"He always meant to be," said Rose, with a charming glow upon her face.

"He always _has_ been," said Adele; "but, dear Rose, I know I can talk
as plainly to you as to another self almost."

"You can,--you can, Ady," said she.

"I have thought," continued Adele, "though I know it is very unmaidenly
in me to say it, that Phil was disposed sometimes to talk even more
warmly than he has ever talked, and to ask me to be a nearer friend to
him even than you, dear Rose. May be it is only my own vanity that leads
me sometimes to suspect this."

"O, I hope it may be true!" burst forth Rose.

"I hope _not_," said Adele, with a voice so gravely earnest that Rose
shuddered.

"O Ady, you don't mean it! you who are so good, so kind! Phil's heart
will break."

"I don't think that," said Adele, with a faint hard smile, in which her
womanly vanity struggled with her resolution. "And whatever might have
been, that which I have hinted at _must_ not be now, dear Rose. You will
know some day why--why it would be ungrateful in me to determine
otherwise. Promise me, darling, that you will discourage any inclination
toward it, wherever you can best do so. Promise me, dear Rose!"

"Do you really, truly mean it?" said the other, with a disappointment
she but poorly concealed.

"With all my heart, I do," said Adele.

And Rose promised, while she threw herself upon the neck of Adele and
said, "I am so sorry! It will be such a blow to poor Phil!"

After this, things went on very much in their old way. To the great
relief of Adele there was no explosive village demonstration of the news
which had come home so cruelly to herself. The Doctor had given an
admonition to the young minister, and the old Squire had told him, in a
pointed and con