of so many years' standing. As if he could
ever pay Martin!

"I must, at least, thank you for your candor," he said at last, a
little unsteadily.

Her eyes grew dark with disappointment. Her suspicions had been only
too well founded, then! She spoke no word of blame, there was no
righteous indignation in her face, only a cutting disappointment; and
there Gilbert felt the greater sting. He had not offended her
personally, it seemed; he had merely fallen wofully short of her
standard. There was no more to be said. He bade her a courteous
good-evening, and she turned slowly and passed up the hill, while he
followed the path down the stream. One of old Hughie Cameron's
philosophic remarks, which he had heard one evening on the milk-stand,
was sounding in his ears: "The Almighty would be laying his bounds
about every one of us--the bounds of His righteous laws. We may be
dodging them on one side, oh, yes; but they will be catching us up on
the other."

The girl climbed slowly up the bank. Her head was bent, and could
Gilbert have seen her face he would not have been quite so sure that
his shortcoming was to her such an entirely impersonal affair. With
her usual self-effacement, she made a brave attempt to put aside her
grief. She had promised to spend this last evening with Arabella, and
she must be cheerful and comforting. As she neared Mrs. Munn's house,
Davy and Tim were sitting on the sidewalk before the gate, talking so
volubly that they did not notice her approach.

"Yessir," Mr. Munn was saying, in a voice muffled by a mouthful of
chewing-gum, "they're goin' to do that thing--what d'ye call it when
two folks that's sparkin' run away?"

"Elope," said the orphan, from the depths of a profound experience of
the world.

"Yes, elope. Don't you ever tell, Tim; but I bet that's what Jeannie
an' me'll do some day; only I wish she wasn't such an awful girl to
laugh!" He sighed deeply, and the orphan grunted disgustedly.

"Aw, g'wan, ye silly duck! Say! le's set up all night an' watch.
They'll be goin' 'fore daylight, I bet----"

Elsie Cameron's light footfall sounded on the sidewalk, and the two
suddenly fell silent. Their shoulders sagged, and they sat gazing
vacantly across the street, as though life were a deadly bore.

The girl regarded the two curved, inscrutable backs in dismay. How on
earth had those two scamps penetrated Arabella's secret?

"Oh, boys!" she cried, coming up to them in hurr