er, and only in time for dinner.

The afternoon was passed in chess, music and conversation, and after an
early tea Dr. and Mrs. Peters bade good-by to their entertainers and
started for their home.

Dr. Ingle lingered longer--in fact, until after ten o'clock, the usual
bedtime at Mondreer, and then at length he said good-night and went away.

But the family of Mondreer did not immediately retire on the departure of
their last guest.

Was not this the first of January? And was not their dear Leonidas to
leave them on the second?

They could not bid him good-night so soon. They lingered in the drawing
room long after the departure of their last guest.

Mrs. Anglesea, who had by her fine animal instincts scented out the state
of affairs in the family which entertained her, watched Leonidas and
Odalite with lynx eyes.

"Them young uns is sweethearts," she said, in an aside to Miss Meeke, as
she pointed to the youthful pair, who, seated on the cushioned sill of the
bay window, were exchanging their last confidences. "Them young uns is
sweethearts, as sure as you're born. And why she didn't choose him,
instead of choosing my beat, beats me. But perhaps the match was made up
all along of the old folks. Shouldn't wonder. Not I! But if they are fond
o' one another, why, in the name o' sense, can't the knot be tied afore he
goes to sea? They'd be a heaper better contented in parting from one
another if they knowed that they belonged to each other, certain sure, no
matter what might happen."

"Yes," replied Miss Meeke. "I think that they are lovers still. And I know
that they were engaged to be married before he went to sea the first time,
and they would have been married on his return from his first voyage if
Col. Anglesea had not come between them. I betray no confidence in telling
you this, for the whole county knows it well."

"To be sure they do. Why, didn't I hear all about it before ever I entered
into this house? You just bet I did. But why she ever could have thrown
over that fine young fellow for my old rascal is more than I can tell."

"I suppose he fascinated her in some way," suggested Natalie.

"You bet your pile on that. Lord! how that man could make love when he
tried! Why, there was poor John, my first husband, poor, dear
fellow!--that ever I should have forgot him so far as to take up with this
furriner!--poor John, after keeping company with me for more'n a year, and
never saying a word to me about