mean; is
she----?"

Again the man whispered in her ear. "None can say," he added aloud,
"that I have not been a kind parent to my children."

"I'm glad there's some virtue in you," said the woman, turning toward
the quiet mansion that stood in almost palace-like magnificence in the
midst of the beautiful grounds that surrounded it on all sides. The man
lingered behind, and finally left the garden by a path lying in an
opposite direction from the one by which he had entered. He bent his
steps rapidly in the direction of the river. Either the warmth of the
night or his own emotions oppressed him; for, as he gained its banks, he
slackened his pace, drew off his cap, and loosened his collar. With
arms folded across his chest, he moved slowly along, like one intensely
absorbed in some dark and intricate train of thought. Sometimes he
muttered to himself, and made strange gestures, or tossed his head with
a confident air, as though he saw onward to the success of some plan he
concerted. So occupied was he in his own thoughts, that he never saw the
tall, gaunt figure of a man, crouching in the shadow of a small linden
tree, that stood on the bank of the river, nearly opposite Dilly
Danforth's wretched abode, although he passed in so close contact as to
brush against the little bundle of sticks the unknown held in his hand,
while his deep, sunken eyes glared on the passer till they seemed nearly
starting from their sockets.

"'Tis he!" murmured the gazer, when the abstracted one was beyond the
sound of his voice. "I must see where he goes;" and, stealing
noiselessly to the door of Dilly's abode, he placed the bundle of sticks
on her sill, and slowly followed the receding figure.

CHAPTER XX.

"And the clear depths of her dark eye
Were bright with troubled brilliancy,
Yet the lips drooped as with the tear,
Which might oppress, but not appear.
Her curls, with all their sunny glow,
Were braided o'er an aching brow;
But well she knew how many sought
To gaze upon her secret thought;--
And love is proud--she might not brook
That others on her heart should look."

One pleasant autumn evening a social group were assembled in Mr. Leroy
Edson's tasteful parlor. A tall, argand lamp on a marble table, shed its
mild, ethereal light over