was the object of
this attention, and was listening to the young master as if he had
succeeded in making himself very agreeable.

Of course Dick Veneer had not mistaken the game that was going on. The
schoolmaster meant to make Elsie jealous,--and he had done it. That 's
it: get her savage first, and then come wheedling round her,--a sure
trick, if he isn't headed off somehow. But Dick saw well enough that he
had better let Elsie alone just now, and thought the best way of killing
the evening would be to amuse himself in a little lively talk with Mrs.
Blanche Creamer, and incidentally to show Elsie that he could make
himself acceptable to other women, if not to herself.

The Doctor presently went up to Elsie, determined to engage her in
conversation and get her out of her thoughts, which he saw, by her look,
were dangerous. Her father had been on the point of leaving Helen Darley
to go to her, but felt easy enough when he saw the old Doctor at her
side, and so went on talking. The Reverend Doctor, being now left alone,
engaged the Widow Rowens, who put the best face on her vexation she
could, but was devoting herself to all the underground deities for having
been such a fool as to ask that pale-faced thing from the Institute to
fill up her party.

There is no space left to report the rest of the conversation. If there
was anything of any significance in it, it will turn up by and by, no
doubt. At ten o'clock the Reverend Doctor called Miss Letty, who had no
idea it was so late; Mr. Bernard gave his arm to Helen; Mr. Richard saw
to Mrs. Blanche Creamer; the Doctor gave Elsie a cautioning look, and
went off alone, thoughtful; Dudley Venner and his daughter got into their
carriage and were whirled away. The Widow's gambit was played, and she
had not won the game.

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE WILD HUNTSMAN.

The young master had not forgotten the old Doctor's cautions. Without
attributing any great importance to the warning he had given him, Mr.
Bernard had so far complied with his advice that he was becoming a pretty
good shot with the pistol. It was an amusement as good as many others to
practise, and he had taken a fancy to it after the first few days.

The popping of a pistol at odd hours in the backyard of the Institute was
a phenomenon more than sufficiently remarkable to be talked about in
Rockland. The viscous intelligence of a country-village is not easily
stirred by the winds which ripple the fluent