se of that
exquisite face as it flashed by.

"By George! ain't she a stunner? Not a bit like t'other one, with her
black eyes and tarry hair. I've seen quadroon girls, down South,
whiter than Miss Silver. And, what's more, she isn't a bit like--like
the lady in London, that she'd ought to look like."

Sybilla saw very little of Sir Everard or his bride that evening. But
the next morning, at breakfast, she broached the subject of Mr.
Parmalee.

"Wants to take photographic views of the place, does he?" said Sir
Everard, carelessly. "Is he too timid to speak for himself, Sybilla?"

"Mr. Parmalee is not in the least bashful. He merely labors under the
delusion that a petition proffered by me can not fail."

"Oh, the fellow is welcome!" the baronet said, indifferently. "Let him
amuse himself, by all means. If the views are good, I will have some
myself."

Mr. Parmalee presented himself in the course of the day.

Sir Everard received him politely in the library.

"Most assuredly, Mr.--oh, Parmalee. Take the views, of course. I am
glad you admire Kingsland. You have been making some sketches already,
Miss Silver tells me."

Miss Silver herself had ushered the gentleman in, and now stood
lingeringly by the door-way. My lady sat watching the ceaseless rain
with indolent eyes, holding a novel in her lap, and looking very serene
and handsome.

"Well, yes," Mr. Parmalee admitted, glancing modestly at the plethoric
portfolio he carried under his arm. "Would your lordship mind taking a
look at them? I've got some uncommon neat views of our American
scenery, too--Mammoth Cave, Niagry Falls, White Mountains, and so on.
Might help to pass a rainy afternoon."

"Very true, Mr. Parmalee; it might. Let us see your American views,
then. Taken by yourself, I presume?"

"Yes, sir!" responded the artist, with emphasis. "Every one of 'em;
and done justice to. Look a-here!"

He opened his portfolio and spread his "views" out.

Lady Kingsland arose with languid grace and crossed over. Her husband
seated her beside him with a loving smile. Her back was partly turned
to the American, whom she had met without the faintest shade of
recognition.

Sybilla Silver, eager and expectant of she knew not what, lingered and
looked likewise.

The "views" were really very good, and there was an abundance of
them--White Mountain and Hudson River scenery, Niagara, Nahant,
Southern and Western scenes. Then he produced phot