Middleton's alarm.

"'On yonder lea, on yonder lea,'" they heard her humming gayly; and
Hammond caught the refrain, and finished it in a fine manly bass,
while Archie stood still under the wintry sky. Why had she looked like
that at him? What was there in his lightly-uttered speech to offend
her?

Grace was standing alone when he re-entered the drawing-room. Most of
the wax candles were extinguished, but the soft glow of the firelight
irradiated the farthest corner of the room.

"What a glorious fire!" he said, warming his chilly hands at it, and
then throwing himself into the easy-chair that Grace silently placed
for him. "And where is Mattie? Really, she did very well to-night."

"You must tell her to-morrow, she will be so pleased; she seems tired,
and her head aches, so I advised her to go to bed." And, though Archie
did not say openly that he approved of this sensible advice, he
implied it by the way he drew a low chair forward for Grace,--so close
beside him that she could rest her arm upon the cushioned elbow of
his.

They remained comfortably silent for along time: it was Grace who
spoke first.

"Archie," she said, rather nervously, but her eyes had a settled
purpose in them, "shall you be angry if I disobey you, dear, and speak
again on a certain subject?"

"What subject?" he asked, rather surprised by her manner. He had not a
notion to what she was referring; he did not know how during that long
silence their thoughts had been couching the same point, and that all
this time she was seeking courage to speak to him.

"I know your secret, Archie; I discovered it to-night."

"My secret!" he returned, in utter amazement. "I have no secret,
Gracie." And then, as he caught her meaning, a cloud came to his brow.
"But this is nonsense!" he continued harshly,--"pure nonsense; put it
out of your head."

"I saw it to-night," she went on, in a very low voice, undisturbed by
his evident displeasure. "She is good and sweet, and quite lovely,
Archie, and that young man is not half worthy of her; but she has no
thought but for him."

"Do you think I do not know that?" he returned, in an exasperated
tone. "Grace, I will not have you talk in this way. I am cured,--quite
cured: it was nothing but a passing folly."

"A folly that made you very unhappy, my poor Archie; but--hush! you
must not interrupt me--I am not going to talk about her."

"Oh, that is well," he returned, in a relieved tone.

"I was sorry--just