lemen accompanied Mr. Frederic into the new home and
spent an hour delightfully with the artist, amid his pictures. Then
Cleena, aided by Amy, brought in a tray of luncheon, and they stayed to
share it.

"Blessings on Teamster John's turkey. What a lot of comfort it has given
lots of folks!" remarked Amy to Cleena, in the kitchen, as she surveyed
the neatly arranged tray.

"Yes, so be. Arrah musha, were the man as sensible as his fowl I'd know.
But, colleen, keep an eye to that back door. Fayette's behind, in the
store closet. It's behind he must stay or there's mischief a-brewin'."

"Indeed, I wonder he isn't putting himself forward, to attract Uncle
Frederic's notice, as he always does of strangers. Well, poor lad, I
fancy the introduction can wait. When you've carried in the tray, I'll
go and serve them."

But after the light meal was over and the guests departed, Hallam became
absorbed in the new magazines that his uncle produced from his valise;
while the elder Kayes dropped back into the reminiscences that were so
interesting to themselves and so dull to Amy. Try as she would, now that
all was quiet, she could not keep from her mind a picture of Archibald
Wingate, riding home from a pleasant visit and suffering such mischance.

"My first little dinner-party, too. I must go and see him. I must tell
him that I am sorry. I must offer to help."

So, after a while, as the afternoon waned, Amy put on her outdoor
things, and telling only Cleena her errand, set off for Fairacres. She
was admitted by a strange servant, and was passing straight toward the
room which her cousin occupied when she was met and prevented by
Marshall.

"If you please, miss, he's allowed to see nobody."

"Not even me? Surely, I will not disturb him. I won't even speak to him,
if that will hurt him. I just want to satisfy myself how badly he's
injured, and maybe smile at him. Just that little bit. Oh, Mr. Marshall,
isn't it so sad! I'm so very, very sorry."

"Yes, and well you might be, miss. No, not even to look at him. He's
not to be worried by nobody."

So Amy went sorrowfully home again, and as she had to resume her labor
in the mill at such an early hour the following day, she could not
repeat her visit until another night came round. Frederic Kaye had gone
to the mansion, however, and had been coldly assured by the officious
Marshall that "the master was doing well." This bulletin had been issued
through the upper half of the old-