d, were it so very profound. I will care nothing for
him". And yet, somehow, her footstep lagged wearily and her eye
occasionally gathered mists on its brightness.

It was now the eve of the fifth of October. An unnatural heat
prevailed, consequent on the long drought, the horizon was skirted
with a smoky haze and the atmosphere was exceedingly oppressive. Mrs.
Dubois, who was suffering from a severe headache, sat in the parlor,
half buried in the cushions of an easy-chair. Adele stood beside her,
bathing her head with perfumed water, while Mr. Somers, prostrated by
the weather, lay, apparently asleep, upon a sofa.

"That will do, Adele", said Mrs. Dubois, making a slight motion
towards her daughter. "That will do, _ma chere_, my head is cooler
now. Go out and watch for your father. He will surely be here
to-night".

Adele stepped softly out, through the window upon the balcony.

A few minutes after, Mr. Lansdowne came to the parlor door, looked in,
inquired for Mrs. Dubois's headache, gazed for a moment, at the serene
face of the sleeper on the sofa, and then, perceiving Adele sitting
outside, impelled by an irresistible impulse, went out and joined her.

She was leaning her head upon her hand, with her arm supported by a
low, rude balustrade, that ran round the edge of the balcony, and was
looking earnestly up the road, to catch the first glimpse of her
father. Her countenance had a subdued, sad expression. She was indeed
very unhappy. The distance and reserve that had grown up so suddenly
between herself and Mr. Lansdowne had become painful to her. She would
have rejoiced to return once more to their former habits of frank and
vivacious conversation. But she waited for him to renew the
familiarity of the past.

She turned her head towards him as he approached, and without raising
her eyes, said, "Good evening, Mr. Lansdowne". He bowed, sat down, and
they remained several minutes in silence.

"I suppose", said John, at length, making a desperate effort to
preserve a composure of manner, entirely at variance with the
tumultuous throbbings of his heart, "you are confident of your
father's return to-night?"

"O, yes. I look for him every moment. I am quite anxious to hear the
result of the expedition".

"I am, also. I hope no harm will come to our good friend, Mr. Norton.
Do you know whether he intends to spend the winter here, Miss Adele?"

"I think he will return to his family. But we shall endeavor to reta