is return had met would linger in Grantley
Mellen's suspicious mind, and, in spite of Elizabeth's cheerful manner,
her color would come and go with tremulous fitfulness. Sometimes there
was a restless expression in her eyes, and she seemed with difficulty to
repress a nervous start at any sudden sound--she had not recovered
wholly, it appeared, from her surprise.

"You will send for Elsie in the morning," he said.

"Oh, yes. One of the men will go to town early."

"Don't tell her I have come."

Elizabeth hesitated.

"She would be so startled if I did not," she said. "I really think her
happiness will be greater if she expects to meet you."

"As you please," he returned, a little coldly. "I believe you are right.
Surprises generally are failures."

"Where is Dolf?" Elizabeth asked.

"I sent him on with the steamer to deliver some letters I had brought
for various people; he will be up in the morning. He is just the same
remarkable darkey as ever. His language is even grander, I think."

When they were sitting over the fire again, Mr. Mellen said:

"Now, tell me everything that has happened; your letters were all so
vague."

"I had nothing of importance to write, you know," she answered; "we were
very quiet here."

"Has Elsie changed much?" he asked.

"Not at all; gay and thoughtless as ever."

There seemed a suppressed bitterness in her voice. Perhaps that gayety
and frivolity had sometimes jarred upon the deeper chords in her own
nature.

"Little darling!" he said, fondly, "I feel more attached to her than
ever since I went away--she seems more like my daughter than my sister."

"And she loves you very dearly, you may be sure of that."

"Oh, yes; nothing could ever come between Elsie and me! I have thought
of the promise I made our dying mother; I have kept it,
Elizabeth--wherever else I have erred, I have kept that vow."

"Yes," she said; "yes."

But the tone grew a little absent, her eyes wandered about the room as
if she were perplexed anew by some thought far away from the subject of
their conversation.

"You have been happy and content here, Elizabeth?"

"Not happy," she answered, "I forced myself to be patient; but the time
seemed very long."

"Then you do love me?" he cried, suddenly.

She looked at him reproachfully, with some pain stirring under that
reproach.

"Can you ask me such questions now?"

"No, no; you do love me. I believe it. But you know what a morbid,
suspicious ch