sonableness of his late rival. He knew that Mr. Montague
disliked him, avoided him, and refused to take part in any enterprise
with him; but he had no suspicion of the depth of his hatred. He was
sorely troubled because his own presumed errors were visited upon his
innocent daughter.

Sara was sad and moody after Edward ceased so suddenly to visit her, and
her parents believed that her health had been impaired by her sorrow.
Her father hoped and believed that the return of Edward would prove to
be the panacea to restore her; and the young man's confession appalled
him. He could not counsel him to forsake fortune and family for his
daughter's sake, even while he feared that his refusal to do so would be
fatal to her. He could give no advice, though the young man asked for
it. He volunteered to conceal the fact of Edward's visit, which was
several times repeated with the same privacy.

Sara's health improved as her cheerfulness returned; but her physician
dreaded the long, cold winter. About this time appeared a volume
entitled Gan-Eden, or Pictures of Cuba, which fell into Mr. Medway's
hands. He read it, and was fully impressed with the desirableness of
Cuba as a winter residence for consumptives. He suggested the thought
to the doctor, and the result was, that Mr. Medway went to the island
with his wife and daughter. Edward saw her before her departure, and
their plighting was renewed, with the hope of meeting in the spring.

When she had gone, he was moody and discontented. A few weeks later Tom
Barkesdale, his chum in college, who resided in New Orleans, came to his
home to spend a few days. Edward and his father were courteous and
munificent hosts, and did all that was possible to make the guest happy.
He was happy, but he could not help seeing that his old college friend
was not.

"What's the matter with you, Ned?" said Tom, as they sailed in a small
yacht on the bright waters of Penobscot Bay, on one of the soft days of
the Indian summer. "You are as blue as a Yankee whetstone."

"Am I? I was not aware of it," replied Edward, shaking off his moodiness
for the moment.

"Yes, you are. If I stop talking for a moment, you sink away into a
gloomy dream. You seem to me to be half muddled. What ails you?"

"O, nothing."

"I don't believe you. You haven't seemed at all natural since I came. I
hope I'm not in the way of anything."

"Certainly not, Tom. You are never in the way."

"But, candidly and seriously, no