of
her heart. She wished that Humphreys, who had indirectly declared his
love so often, were there to offer at once. She would accept him
immediately, and then the whole neighborhood should not say that she had
been deserted by a Dutchman. For in her anger she found her mother's
epithets expressive.

He was there! Was it the devil that planned it? Does he plan all those
opportunities for wrong that are so sure to offer themselves? Humphreys,
having led a life that turned night into day, sat at the farther end of
the long upper porch, smoking his cigar, waiting a bed-time nearer to
the one to which he was accustomed.

Did he suspect the struggle in the heart of Julia Anderson? Did he guess
that her pride and defiance had by this time reached high-water mark?
Did he divine this from seeing her there? He rose and started in through
the door of the upper hall, the only opening to the porch, except the
window. But this was a feint. He turned back and sat himself down upon
the farther end of the settee from Julia. He understood human nature
perfectly, and had had long practice in making gradual approaches. He
begged her pardon for the bungling manner in which he had communicated
intelligence that must be so terrible to a heart so sensitive! Julia was
just going to declare that she did not care anything for what August
said or thought, but her natural truthfulness checked the transparent
falsehood. She had not gone far enough astray to lie consciously; she
was, as yet, only telling lies to herself. Very gradually and cautiously
did he proceed so as not to "flush the bird." Even as I saw, an hour
ago, a cat creep upon a sparrow with fascinating eyes, and a waving,
snake-like motion of the tail, and a treacherous feline smile upon her
face, even so, cautiously and by degrees, Humphreys felt his way with
velvet paws toward his prey. He knew the opportunity, that once gone
might not come again; he soon guessed that this was the hour and power
of darkness in the soul of Julia, the hour in which she would seek to
flee from her own pride and mortification. And if Humphreys knew how to
approach with a soft tread, very slowly and cautiously, he also
knew--men of his "profession" always know--when to spring. He saw the
moment, he made the spring, he seized the prey.

"Will you trust your destiny to me, Miss Anderson? You seem beset by
troubles. I have means. I could not but he wholly devoted to your
welfare. Let me help you to flee