th joy;
she gave Emily a kiss which Mirabel must have been more or less than man
not to have coveted. "I declare," cried Cecilia, completely losing her
head, "I'm so excited, I don't know what to do with myself!"

Emily's intimate knowledge of her friend applied the right remedy. "You
don't know what to do with yourself?" she repeated. "Have you no sense
of duty? Give the cook your orders."

Cecilia instantly recovered her presence of mind. She sat down at the
writing-table, and made out a list of eatable productions in the animal
and vegetable world, in which every other word was underlined two or
three times over. Her serious face was a sight to see, when she rang for
the cook, and the two held a privy council in a corner.

On the way to the keeper's lodge, the young mistress of the house headed
a procession of servants carrying the raw materials. Francine followed,
held in custody by Miss Plym--who took her responsibilities seriously,
and clamored for instruction in the art of chopping parsley. Mirabel and
Emily were together, far behind; they were the only two members of
the company whose minds were not occupied in one way or another by the
kitchen.

"This child's play of ours doesn't seem to interest you," Mirabel
remarked.

"I am thinking," Emily answered, "of what you said to me about
Francine."

"I can say something more," he rejoined. "When I noticed the change in
her at dinner, I told you she meant mischief. There is another change
to-day, which suggests to my mind that the mischief is done."

"And directed against me?" Emily asked.

Mirabel made no direct reply. It was impossible for _him_ to remind her
that she had, no matter how innocently, exposed herself to the jealous
hatred of Francine. "Time will tell us, what we don't know now," he
replied evasively.

"You seem to have faith in time, Mr. Mirabel."

"The greatest faith. Time is the inveterate enemy of deceit. Sooner or
later, every hidden thing is a thing doomed to discovery."

"Without exception?"

"Yes," he answered positively, "without exception."

At that moment Francine stopped and looked back at them. Did she think
that Emily and Mirabel had been talking together long enough? Miss
Plym--with the parsley still on her mind---advanced to consult Emil
y's experience. The two walked on together, leaving Mirabel to overtake
Francine. He saw, in her first look at him, the effort that it cost
her to suppress those emotions which the prid