tober nights were dark and the wooded roads rough for travelling.

"When Ursula was ready she looked at herself in the glass with a good
deal of satisfaction. Yes, Felicity, she was a vain baggage, that same
Ursula, but that kind didn't all die out a hundred years ago. And she
had good reason for being vain. She wore the sea-green silk which had
been brought out from England a year before and worn but once--at the
Christmas ball at Government House. A fine, stiff, rustling silk it was,
and over it shone Ursula's crimson cheeks and gleaming eyes, and masses
of nut brown hair.

"As she turned from the glass she heard her father's voice below, loud
and angry. Growing very pale, she ran out into the hall. Her father was
already half way upstairs, his face red with fury. In the hall below
Ursula saw her step-mother, looking troubled and vexed. At the door
stood Malcolm Ramsay, a homely neighbour youth who had been courting
Ursula in his clumsy way ever since she grew up. Ursula had always hated
him.

"'Ursula!' shouted old Hugh, 'come here and tell this scoundrel he lies.
He says that you met Kenneth MacNair in the beechgrove last Tuesday.
Tell him he lies! Tell him he lies!'

"Ursula was no coward. She looked scornfully at poor Ramsay.

"'The creature is a spy and a tale-bearer,' she said, 'but in this he
does not lie. I DID meet Kenneth MacNair last Tuesday.'

"'And you dare to tell me this to my face!' roared old Hugh. 'Back to
your room, girl! Back to your room and stay there! Take off that finery.
You go to no more dances. You shall stay in that room until I choose to
let you out. No, not a word! I'll put you there if you don't go. In with
you--ay, and take your knitting with you. Occupy yourself with that this
evening instead of kicking your heels at The Springs!'

"He snatched a roll of gray stocking from the hall table and flung
it into Ursula's room. Ursula knew she would have to follow it, or be
picked up and carried in like a naughty child. So she gave the miserable
Ramsay a look that made him cringe, and swept into her room with her
head in the air. The next moment she heard the door locked behind
her. Her first proceeding was to have a cry of anger and shame and
disappointment. That did no good, and then she took to marching up and
down her room. It did not calm her to hear the rumble of the carriage
out of the gate as her uncle and aunt departed.

"'Oh, what's to be done?' she sobbed. 'Kenneth will be f