nd remember only the sweet;
how good they were, and how dearly we loved them. Our thoughts and
prayers follow them continually, flying over and about them like
wandering angels, that must be laden with good. And all this loving--all
this waiting--all this praying, year after year--I mean day after
day"--she suddenly turned to Agatha. "Be content, my child. He will come
back."

Agatha made no reply. She was not thinking of herself just then. She
was thinking of the life, compared to which her own nineteen commonplace
years sank into nothingness; of the love beside which that feeling she
had so called, looked mean and poor; of the patient endurance--what was
her patience? And yet she had fancied that never was woman so tried as
Agatha Harper.

With a resolve as sudden as brave, and in her present state of mind
to be brave at all it must needs be sudden, Agatha determined to put
herself and her troubles altogether aside, and think only of those whom
she loved.

"Come," she said, and rose up strong in the courage of self-denial. "We
will indulge in no more dreariness; it is not good for you, and I won't
allow it, my patient. You shall be patient, in every sense, for a little
while longer, and then we'll all be very happy--_all_, I say, next
year."

With this declaration she made ready to carry her friend off to
Kingcombe--to her own little house--where she was bent on detaining Anne
prisoner. Miss Valery declared herself quite willing to be thus bound
for a day or two, until she was strong enough to go to Kingcombe Holm.

"But I'll not let you go--I'll be jealous. Why must you be wandering off
to that dreary place?"

"Its not dreary to me; I always loved Kingcombe Holm; and I must pay it
one last visit before--before winter."

"But there is plenty of time," returned Agatha, hastily. "Why go just
now?"

"Because"--Miss Valery spoke after a moment's pause, very
steadfastly--"Because I have reasons for so doing. My old friend, Mr.
Harper, has a few strong prejudices, some of them to the hurt of his
brother, and I wish to talk to him myself before Mr. Brian Harper comes
home."

While Miss Valery said this name, Agatha had carefully bent her eyes
seaward. In answering, her colour rose--her manner was more troubled and
hesitating by far than that of her companion.

"Go, then. I will not hinder you. Nobody can feel more interest than I
do in Uncle Brian. When do you think he will be here?"

"In three weeks, most li