ore agitation than the ruse concealed.

He answered as irrelevantly as she had spoken, "Yes, indeed, so it is."
That was their only attempt at conversation.

For a half hour--it might have been much more or much less--they walked
in this way, thrilling with the new magnetism that at once attracted and
estranged them with an extraordinary sense of strangeness in
familiarity. At length they paused under the little porch of Miss Rood's
cottage, where he commonly bade her good-evening after their walks. The
timidity and vague alarms that had paralyzed her while they were walking
disappeared as he was about to leave her, and she involuntarily
returned his unusual pressure of her hand.

A long time after behold her still encircled in his arms, not blushing,
but pale and her eyes full of a soft astonished glow! "Oh, Robert!" was
all she had said after one first little gasp.

They never met George or Mabel again. Mrs. Morgan learned subsequently
that two young people from the city answering their description had been
guests at the opposite house, and had left Plainfield the morning after
the events hereinbefore set forth, and drew her conclusions accordingly.
But her husband preferred to cherish the secret belief that his theory
that memories might become visible had proved true in one instance at
least. EDWARD BELLAMY.

BRANDYWINE, 1777.

Toward noon of a September day, the fifth of the week and the eleventh
of the month, 1777, a few of the steady meeting-going Friends of
Birmingham had collected for their "mid-week" assembly in a
wheelwright-shop at Sconnel Town, a roadside group of shops and houses
that had disappeared entirely thirty years ago. Their usual place of
worship, the low stone structure on the hills of Birmingham, three miles
to the south, had been taken for a hospital for the sick of Washington's
army, and even on the previous First Day, as they gathered at ten
o'clock, they had found it being prepared for such a purpose, and had
taken their seats under the shade of the trees outside. The
wheelwright-shop had therefore been selected as a temporary place of
meeting.

Among those gathered on this day was Joseph Townsend, a young man of
twenty-one, who has left us an interesting narrative of the day's
events. Much of the battle of Brandywine he saw. The day, he says, was
exceedingly warm. It had been foggy in the morning, but later the mists
had dissipated--doubtless to the discontent of the husband