o him, if he did not take the initiative.

As it was getting near this time, she walked over one afternoon to
her old home, in order to ascertain its condition. Never, since she so
foolishly abandoned it, had she been near the place. Its mournful,
desolate aspect shocked her. Peter had never been able to rent it.
There was an idea that it belonged to Margaret and was "unlucky." The
gate had fallen from the rusted hinges. Passing boys had maliciously
broken the windows, and the storms of two winters had drifted through
the empty rooms. Timber is scarce and dear in Shetland, and all the
conveniences for her animals and fowls had been gradually plundered
and carried off. Margaret looked with dismay at the place, and, as she
went through the silent rooms, could not help a low cry of real heart
pain. In them it was impossible to forget Jan, the gay, kind-hearted
husband, who had once made all their echoes ring to his voice and
tread.

Never had the sense of her real widowhood seemed so strong and so
pitiful. But in spite of its dreariness, the house attracted her.
There, better than in any other place, she could rear her son, and
devote her life to memories at once so bitter and so sweet. She
determined to speak that very night, unless her father were unusually
cross or thoughtful. Christmas was a favorite date for weddings, and
it was very probable that Suneva would choose that time for her own.
If so, there would be barely time to prepare the old home.

She set Peter's tea-table with unusual care; she made him the
cream-cakes that he liked so well, and saw that every thing was bright
and comfortable, and in accord with his peculiar fancies. But Peter
did not come home to tea, and after waiting an hour, she put the
service away. It had become a very common disappointment.

Peter said something in a general way about business, but Margaret was
well aware, that when he did not come home until ten o'clock, he had
taken tea with the Torrs, and spent the evening with Suneva.

This night she had a very heavy heart. Three times within the past
week Peter had been late. Things were evidently coming to a crisis,
and she felt the necessity of prompt movement in her own interests.
She put the child to sleep, and sat down to wait for her father's
arrival. About eight o'clock she heard his voice and step, and before
she could rise and go with a candle to the door, Peter and Suneva
entered together.

There was something in their m