ut with him, Grace," Mrs. Drummond said, as
she came in, in her usual active bustling way. "The grass never grew
under her feet," as she was often pleased to observe. "Loitering and
lagging make young bones grow prematurely old," she would say, coining
a new proverb for the benefit of lazy Susie. "Never measure your
footsteps when you are about other people's business," she would say
to Laura, who hated to be hunted up from her employment for any
errand. "He thinks of going over to Blackthorn Farm, as it is so fine;
and the walk will do you good," continued Mrs. Drummond, with a keen
look at her daughter's pale face. "Give me Dottie's frock: that little
monkey is always getting into mischief." But Grace yielded her task
reluctantly.

"Are you sure he wishes me to go, mother?"

"Quite sure," was the brief answer; but she added no more.

Silence was ever golden to this busy, hard-working mother. She was
generally sparing of words. Grace, who saw that her mother was bent on
her going, made no further demur; but, as she put on her
walking-things, she told herself that Archie was only making a virtue
of necessity. He was so little eager for her society that he had not
sought her himself, but had sent her a message. Ever since his return,
no light-springing footsteps had been heard on the uncarpeted stairs
leading to the school-room. He had forsaken their old haunt, where
they had once talked so happily, sitting hand in hand on the old
window-seat.

Grace felt herself grievously wounded. For months a barrier had been
between her and Archie. He had written seldom; and his letters, when
they came, told her nothing. In manner he was kindness itself. That
there was no change in his affection was evident; but the key to his
confidence was mislaid. He had withdrawn himself into some inner
citadel, where he seemed all at once inaccessible, and her sisterly
soul was vexed within her.

He met her at the door with his usual smile of welcome.

"That is right, Grace; you have not kept me long waiting," he said,
pleasantly, as she came towards him; and then, as they walked down
Lowder Street, he commenced talking at once. He had so much to tell
her, he said; and here Grace's pulses began to throb expectantly; but
the eager light died out of her face when he went on to detail a long
conversation he had had with his mother the previous night. Was that
all? she thought. Was the longed-for confidence still to be withheld?

Archie did