ve, and that her boy and his wife would live near them, and her
home might again know the sound of happy children's voices. The sweet
thoughts brought her gladness and peace of mind, and Mary's visit made
the dream more sure of ultimate fulfillment.

Mary felt the Elder's wish lie upon her with the imperative force of a
law, and she did not dare disregard his request that on no account was
Hester to be told the truth. So she gathered all her fortitude and
courage to carry her through this ordeal. She examined the fine linen
that had been brought to Hester years ago from Scotland by Richard's
mother, and while she praised it she listened for steps without; the
heavy tread of men bringing a sorrowful and terrible burden. But the
minutes wore on, and no such sounds came, and the hour grew late.

"They may have gone out of town. Bertrand said something about it, and
told me to stay until he called for me, if I stayed all night." Mary
tried to laugh over it, and Hester seized the thought gayly.

"We'll go to bed, anyway, and your husband may just go home without
you when he comes."

And after a little longer wait they went to bed, and Hester slept, but
Mary lay wakeful and fearing, until in the early morning, while it was
yet dark, she heard the Elder slowly climb the stairs and go to his
room. Then she also slept, hoping against hope, that they had found
nothing.

Betty's pride and shame had caused her to keep her trouble to herself.
She knew Richard had gone forever, and she dreaded Peter Junior's next
visit. What should she do! Oh, what should she do! Should she tell
Peter she did not love him, and that all had been a mistake? She must
humble herself before him, and what excuse had she to make for all the
hours she had given him, and the caresses she had accepted? Ah! If
only she could make the last week as if it had never been! She was
shamed before her mother, who had seen him kiss her. She was ashamed
even in her own room in the darkness to think of all Peter Junior had
said to her, and the love he had lavished on her. Ought she to break
her word to him and beg him to forget? Ah! Neither he nor she could
ever forget.

Her brothers had been forbidden to tell her a word of the reports that
were already abroad in the town, and now they were both in bed and
asleep, and little Janey was cuddled in Betty's bed, also in
dreamland. At last, when neither her father nor her mother returned
and she could bear her own thoug