mpossible that Elizabeth herself could
help being won into happiness by her caressing ways.

"You'll never go away again--shall he, Bess? But isn't it luncheon-time?
I could eat no breakfast for joy, but I do think I am hungry now."

Mr. Mellen laughed, and Elsie went on again.

"Oh, Grantley, I saw Dolf on the steamboat; he is coming over with your
luggage. The ridiculous creature has more airs than ever. I wish you had
forced him to come ashore in the pilot-boat, it would have been such
fun, when he got among the breakers; but, oh dear! how frightened I was,
hearing how near you were to getting in. It makes, me feel pale now!"

Here Elsie gathered up her bonnet and shawl, tossed her curls back,
kissed her brother again, and ran, off, saying:

"I must go upstairs and brush my hair. Do come, Bessie; I never can do
it myself."

"I must go and see what the servants are doing," Elizabeth said.

"Nonsense! Come with me."

Elsie caught her sister-in-law about the waist, waltzed away towards the
stairs and forced her to ascend, while Mr. Mellen stood looking after
them with a pleasant smile on his lips.

CHAPTER XXVI.

SUNSHINE AND STORMS.

When they reached Elsie's room the girl drew Elizabeth in and closed the
door. Mrs. Mellen sank wearily into a seat, as if glad to escape from
the restraint she had been putting upon herself all that day.

"Your note frightened me so!" cried Elsie. "It was wicked of you to
write like that."

"He came upon me so suddenly," gasped Elizabeth. "I was out in the
grounds in the rain--I had gone to--"

"And Grantley came upon you there?" interrupted Elsie. "What did you
do? what did you do?"

"I fainted in the end."

"Good heavens!"

"Oh, you would have been worse in my place," returned Elizabeth. "It was
so sudden; how could I tell what he had seen?"

"But you are yourself now. You will not give way again?"

"I must not," said Elizabeth drearily. "I must bear up now."

"Don't talk in that dreadful voice," shivered Elsie; "it sounds as if
you were dying. I thought you had more courage. Don't be afraid of me;
if he held a bowl of poison to my lips I wouldn't tell."

"Oh, Elsie, what would death be compared to the agony of discovery?"

"Do stop!" pleaded Elsie, pressing both rosy little palms to her ears,
with a piteous, shrinking movement. "We mustn't talk. I won't talk, I
tell you! I can put everything out of my head if you will only let me;
but if you look and