, sometimes I could
wish we had never come to Hynds House!"

"It had to be," I said dully.

"And--The Author?" ventured Alicia, after a pause. "He thinks you
belong to him by right of discovery. He doesn't accept Mr. Jelnik's
announcement as final. He told me this morning that his offer stood
until you actually married somebody else. The Author isn't used to
being crossed, and he doesn't quite know how to take it."

"It is on the knees of the gods," I repeated, weariedly.

Came a gentle tap at the door, and following it the fresh, kind face
of Miss Emmeline.

"Are you trying to rival the Seven Sleepers?" she asked, gaily, and
laid a bunch of carnations on my knees by way of offering. "Judge
Gatchell sent them to me this morning," she explained, with an
October blush. For the sallow old jurist had taken so great a liking
to the Boston reincarnation of a Theban vestal, and was in
consequence so rejuvenated, himself, that all Hyndsville was holding
up the hands of astonishment and biting the finger of conjecture.

"My dears," said Miss Emmeline, presently, "I want to tell you the
singular dream I had last night, or rather this morning. I was quite
tired, for I do not often dance," admitted Miss Emmeline, who had
nevertheless danced with a zest that rivaled that of the youngest,
"so I must have fallen asleep immediately upon retiring. Well, then,
I dreamed that all those old Hyndses whose portraits are down-stairs
were gathered together in the library, to bid farewell to a member
of the family who was going away--that beautiful creature who
disappeared and was never afterward found. Now, aren't dreams
absurd? She was setting out upon a long journey dressed in a
low-necked, short-sleeved brown silk dress trimmed with quantities
of fine lace. And for goodness' sake what do you think that woman
wore over it for a traveling-cloak? Nothing more or less than a gray
army blanket, a corner of which was thrown over her head like a
hood and quite concealed her face.

"She moved away slowly, holding her blanket as an Indian does.
And as she passed me by--for I was standing in the door--a fold
slipped, and what do you think she was holding to her breast? A
pearl-and-silver crucifix. You can't imagine how I felt when I saw
it!"

I knew how I felt when I had seen it, but that I couldn't tell Miss
Emmeline. Instead, I held the carnations to my face, to hide my
whitening lips. For once the Boston lady had come into actual
conta