ve such as hers can even summon
genius to its aid, and she took fire herself at the thought of a book
worthy of that love, of a book--though signed by him that would redeem
them, and bring a scoffing world to its knees in praise. She spent hours
in the big library preparing for Chiltern's coming, with volumes in her
lap and a note-book by her side.

One night, as they sat by the blazing logs in his study, which had been
the General's, Chiltern arose impulsively, opened the big safe in the
corner, and took out a leather-bound book and laid it on her lap. Honora
stared at it: it was marked: "Highlawns, Visitors' Book."

"It's curious I never thought of it before," he said, "but my father,
had a habit of jotting down notes in it on important occasions. It may
be of some use to us Honora."

She opened it at random and read: "July 5, 1893, Picnic at Psalter's
Falls. Temperature 71 at 9 A.M. Bar. 30. Weather clear. Charles left
for Washington, summons from President, in the midst of it. Agatha and
Victor again look at the Farrar property. Hugh has a ducking. P.S. At
dinner night Bessie announces her engagement to Cecil Grainger. Present
Sarah and George Grenfell, Agatha and Victor Strange, Gerald Shorter,
Lord Kylie--"

Honora looked up. Hugh was at her shoulder, with his eyes on the page.

"Psalter's Falls!" he exclaimed. "How well I remember that day! I was
just home from my junior year at Harvard."

"Who was 'Charles'?" inquired Honora.

"Senator Pendleton--Bessie's father. Just after I jumped into the
mill-pond the telegram came for him to go to Washington, and I drove him
home in my wet clothes. The old man had a terrible tongue, a whip-lash
kind of humour, and he scored me for being a fool. But he rather liked
me, on the whole. He told me if I'd only straighten out I could be
anything, in reason."

"What made you jump in the mill-pond?" Honora asked, laughing.

"Bessie Grainger. She had a devil in her, too, in those days, but she
always kept her head, and I didn't." He smiled. "I'm willing to admit
that I was madly in love with her, and she treated me outrageously.
We were standing on the bridge--I remember it as though it were
yesterday--and the water was about eight feet deep, with a clear sand
bottom. She took off a gold bracelet and bet me I wouldn't get it if she
threw it in. That night, right in the middle of dinner, when there was
a pause in the conversation, she told us she was engaged to Cecil
Graing