world, but he understood that, for some reason or other, Mrs Snow
wanted nothing more said about it, so he meant to say no more; and,
after a minute, he made Rose start and laugh nervously by the energy
with which he repeated, "Just so;" and still he looked from Graeme to
Mr Millar, as though he expected them to tell him something.

"Harry's letter gives the news, and that is all," said Graeme.

"But I cannot understand your surprise," said Mr Millar, not to Mr
Snow, but to Graeme. "I thought you must have seen it all along."

"Did you see it all along?" asked Mr Snow, looking queer.

"I was in Harry's confidence; but even if I had not been, I am sure I
must have seen it. I almost think I knew what was coming before he knew
it himself, at the very first."

"The very first?" repeated Graeme. "When was that? In the spring?
Before the time we went to Mrs Roxbury's, on the evening of the
Convocation?"

"Oh! yes! long before that--before Miss Rose came home from the West.
Indeed, I think it was love at first sight, as far as Harry was
concerned," added Mr Millar, with an embarrassed laugh, coming suddenly
to the knowledge of the fact that Mr Snow was regarding him with
curious eyes. But Mr Snow turned his attention to Rose.

"What do _you_ say to that?" asked he.

"I have nothing to say," said Rose, pettishly. "I was not in Harry's
confidence."

"So it seems," said Mr Snow, meditatively.

"I am sure you will like her when you know her better," said Mr Millar.

"Oh! if Harry likes her that is the chief thing," said Rose, with a
shrug. "It won't matter much to the rest of us--I mean to Graeme and
me."

"It will matter very much to us," said Graeme, "and I know I shall love
her dearly, and so will you, Rosie, when she is our sister, and I mean
to write to Harry to-morrow--and to her, too, perhaps."

"She wants very much to know you, and I am sure you will like each
other," said Mr Millar looking deprecatingly at Rose, who was not easy
or comfortable in her mind any one could see.

"Just tell me one thing, Rose," said Mr Snow. "How came you to suppose
that--"

But the question was not destined to be answered by Rose, at least not
then. A matter of greater importance was to be laid before her, for the
door opened suddenly, and Hannah put in her head.

"Where on earth did you put the yeast-jug, Rose? I have taken as many
steps as I want to after it; if you had put it back in its place it
would have