ad seemed so
picturesque as on that evening with the moon casting the shadows of
pillar, cornice, roof, and tower upon the pure white snow that had
fallen through the day. Beyond it were the young elms of Long Acre,
twig and limb a mass of glittering diamonds. They stood at last
beneath the portico of her home.

"I have been thinking," she said, "of the strange happenings that have
come to us--how you have been my protector from insult. I cannot
express my gratitude, Mr. Walden."

"Please do not mention it, Miss Newville. I should indeed be a
poltroon did I not resent an indignity to a lady, especially to you. I
esteem it an honor to have made your acquaintance. May I say I cannot
find words to express the pleasure I have had in your society? I do
not know that I shall see you again before we start on our homeward
journey."

"Must you go? Can you not prolong your stay?"

[Illustration: King's Chapel, 1895.]

"We have already overstayed our time; but not to our regret. I never
shall forget, Miss Newville, these days and evenings which you, with
Berinthia, Tom, Miss Shrimpton, and Roger Stanley have made so
enjoyable."

"I trust we shall not be like ships that signal each other in
mid-ocean, then sail away never to meet again," she replied.

She reached out her hand to bid him farewell. It rested willingly in
his.

"I hope," she said, "I never shall be so ungrateful as to forget what
you have done for me. I certainly shall not forget the lesson you have
taught me--to stand resolutely for the right. I shall always be
pleased to see you."

"You may be sure, Miss Newville, I never shall fail to pay my respects
to one whose very presence makes life more beautiful and worth the
living."

The full moon was falling upon her face. Her eyes seemed to be looking
far away. He saw for a moment a shade of sadness upon her countenance,
succeeded by a smile. Her hand was still resting in his.

"Good-by till we meet again," her parting words.

Never before had he felt such an uplifting of spirit. "Till we meet
again" would ever be like a strain of music. He lingered awhile, loath
to leave the spot. A light was soon shining in her chamber. The
curtains revealed her shadow. It was something to know she was there.
Would she think of him when lying down to sleep? When would he again
behold those loving eyes, that radiant face, that beauty of soul seen
in every feature? What had the future in store for them? Ah! what had
it?