oke to her. Mrs. Britton had gone out to
dinner.

"Tell her, Shima," Flora commanded, "tell her to come down on the
earliest train." She hesitated, then finished in a firm voice. "Tell her
not to do anything until she has seen me."

Shima would tell her--but Mrs. Britton had been out all day. He did not
know when she would be back.

The words sounded ominous in Flora's ears. She turned away. Was
everything to be finished just as she had light enough to move, but
before she had a chance?

The sound of spinning wheels on the drive startled her to fresh hope,
and sent her hurrying down the stair. It was the phaeton returning from
the last train. Through the open door she saw the figure of Mrs. Herrick
expectant on the veranda. Then the carriage came into the porte-cochere
and passed. With a rush she reached the veranda, and stood there looking
after it. She wouldn't believe her eyes--she couldn't--that it had
returned again empty.

Mrs. Herrick's voice was asking her, "What shall we do? Shall we serve
dinner now, or wait a little longer?"

"Oh, it's no use," Flora murmured, "he won't come to-night. He'll never
come." She drooped against the tall porch pillar.

"My poor child!" Mrs. Herrick took her passive hand. If she read in the
profound discouragement of Flora's face that something more had
transpired than a mere non-appearance, she did not show it, but waited,
alert and quiet, while they gazed together out over the darkening
garden.

It was the time of twilight when the sky is so much brighter than the
earth. Across the lawns between the bushes from hedge to hedge the veil
of the obscuring light was coming in; and through it the avenue of
willows marched darkly. Their leaves moved a little. Flora watched the
ripple of their tops, clear on the bright sky, and deeper down among
mysterious branches there was a sense of movement where the eyes could
not see. There was a curious flick, flick, flicker--a progression, a
passing from the far dark end of the willow avenue toward where it met
the vista of the drive. Flora's eyes, absently, involuntarily, followed
the movement. She felt Mrs. Herrick's hand suddenly close on hers.

"Is some one coming?"

They clung to each other, peering timorously down the drive. A little
gust of wind took the garden, and before the trees had ceased to tremble
and whiten a man had emerged from their shadow and was advancing upon
them up the middle of the drive.

Flora's heart leape