walk to the
Arbor Vitae hedge. It will take five minutes to walk there, and five to
come back. If I do that six times one hour will be gone."

"Oh, youth! Impatient, restless youth!" ejaculated the lady as the girl
danced out of the room.

The sun sank to rest. The gorgeous hued clouds of sunset lost their
brilliancy under the approach of gray Twilight, and were folded upon the
breast of Evening. Low in the west hung the silvery crescent of the
young moon; and near, vieing with it in brightness, shone the soft
radiance of the evening star--first wanderer in the train of night. The
twilight shadows lengthened. The odorous breeze, scented with honeyed
clover and the perfume of roses, grew languid in its sweetness, and
presently died away. Great dusky moths drifted silently about the
half-closed flowers, and from the hedge sounded the plaintive notes of a
whip-poor-will.

"You will not have much longer to wait, Bee," comforted Mrs. Raymond,
coming out on the verandah where the girl had taken her stand. "I heard
the train quite a while ago, so they will soon be here. They are later
than Henry thought they would be. You are not nervous, are you?"

"No; that is, I don't know," answered Bee, her head bent in a listening
attitude. "Oh, auntie! What makes the minutes seem so long when one is
waiting for something good to happen? They go fast enough at other
times."

"It is one of those things that can't be explained, child," answered
Mrs. Raymond gravely. "You remember the old proverb: 'A watched pot
never boils'? But it won't be much longer. Try to possess your soul in
patience for just a short time. He will soon be here now. It grows dark,
doesn't it? The dinner will be quite late. Had we not better go inside?"

"You may, auntie, but I want to stay right here so as to get the first
glimpse of him."

"I think I will, Bee. The air seems damp, and I am beginning to feel
some of your nervousness. Adele is singing in the parlor. I think I'll
join her."

"Do," said Bee briefly.

The darkness grew denser, but Bee still lingered on the porch, her form
half hidden by the vines. Presently the sound of wheels was heard down
the drive, and she started forward eagerly, then paused overcome by a
sudden shyness. Mrs. Raymond hastened to the door, and stepped to the
girl's side.

"Come," she called as Beatrice shrank behind her.

A carriage came rapidly out of the darkness, and drew up before the
entrance. Before it had fairly