gravely.

I did not start immediately for the Sand Lady's house. For a long time I
sat and thought upon the subject of the approaching interview, planning
and considering how I should plead my case, and what I should answer,
and how I should overcome the difficulties which would probably be
pointed out to me.

At last, like many another man when in a similar predicament, I
concluded to let circumstances shape my plan of action, and set forth
for Mrs. Raynor's house. The walk was a long one, but I turned in order
to pass under the tree where I had begun to dictate to Sylvia; and glad
I was that I did so, for to the twig on which I had hung the case
containing her inkstand there was now attached a half sheet of note
paper. I ran to the tree, eagerly seized the paper, and read these few
words that were written on it:--

"Thank you very much for taking such good care of my little case."

"Now, then," said I to myself, proudly gazing at these lines, "this is
only a small thing, but the girl who would write it, and who would
expect me to read it, must be interested in me. She believes that I
would not fail to come here again; therefore she believes in me. That is
a great point."

For a moment I felt tempted to write something in reply, and hang it on
the tree twig. But I refrained; what I would write to Sylvia must be
read by no one but herself. That tree was in a very conspicuous
position, and my tamest words to her must not hang upon it. I carefully
folded the paper and put it in my pocket, and then, greatly encouraged,
walked rapidly to the house.

On the front piazza I found an elderly woman, with a broom. She knew me,
for she had frequently seen me during the time that I was encamped upon
the island. She was now greatly surprised at my appearance on the scene.

"Why, sir," she exclaimed, without waiting for me to speak, "have you
come back to your camp? It is too bad."

I did not like this salutation. But, making no answer to it, I asked
quickly, "Can I see Mrs. Raynor?"

"No, indeed," said she; "they've gone, every one of them, and not an
hour ago. What a pity they did not know you were here!"

"Gone!" I cried. "Where?"

"They've gone off in their yacht for a cruise," returned the woman. "The
vessel has been at Brimley for more than a week, being repaired, and she
got back this morning; and as she was all ready to sail, they just made
up their minds that they'd go off in her, for one of their little
voyage