sed my head at the sound of approaching footsteps, the shades
of evening were gathering around me. It was Willie Leighton whose
footsteps had aroused me from my reverie.

"My dear Clara," he began.

But when I looked up with a little surprise at his familiar use of my
christian name, it being the first time he had thus addressed me, he
colored slightly, and said,--

"I beg pardon, Miss Roscom, for thus intruding upon your solitude, but,
finding you absent on our return, I came to seek you and, with your
permission, to escort you home. I think you do wrong to come to this
lonely place to cherish a sorrow which seems to me to be almost
unreasonable. I would not have you forget your parents; but, surely, if
they are permitted to look down upon you from their home in heaven, they
would not wish to see you thus debar yourself from society and all the
innocent pleasures of youth. The dews of evening," said he, "are
beginning to fall, and I must insist upon your return home."

On our way home I could not help a feeling of uneasiness lest Willie's
attentions to me should displease the family. I had allowed him to
accompany me home, as I could not have done otherwise without absolute
rudeness; yet I feared that, in so doing, I should displease his
friends. My uneasiness increased as, upon entering the house, I thought
I detected a shade of displeasure in the manner of Mrs. Leighton toward
me. If Willie noticed anything of the kind, he _seemed_ unconscious of
it, for he made several efforts to engage us in conversation; but, for
some reason or other, no one, except himself, seemed inclined to be
social that evening. I felt very much depressed in spirits, for I
attributed their silence to displeasure because Willie had accompanied
me home, and, at an early hour, I bade them good night, and retired to
my own apartment. After reading, as was my custom, a chapter in my
Bible, and commending myself to the care of Heaven, I sought my pillow;
but hour after hour passed away and sleep refused to visit my eyes.
Again and again I mentally asked myself what had I done to merit the
coldness which Mrs. Leighton had shown in her manner to me? It was not
my fault that Willie had sought me, and in a kind and gentlemanly manner
escorted me home; and I only attributed his attention to that respect
which the _real_ gentleman ever accords to a lady, be she rich or poor.
I, however, decided that in future I should receive no attentions from
Willi