lie Millar's face one day, as his eye fell suddenly on the face
of Rose. Graeme's heart gave a sudden throb of pain and doubt, as she
saw it, for it told her that a change was coming over their quiet life,
and her own experience made it seem to her a change to be dreaded.

There had been a great snow-shoe race going on that day, in which they
were all supposed to be much interested, because Master Albert Grove was
one of the runners, and had good hope of winning a silver medal which
was to be the prize of the foremost in the race. Graeme and Rose had
come with his little sisters to look, on, and Rose had grown as eager
and delighted as the children, and stood there quite unconscious of the
admiration in Charlie's eyes, and of the shock of pain that thrilled at
her sister's heart. It was more than admiration that Graeme saw in his
eyes, but the look passed, and he made no movement through the crowd
toward them, and everything was just as it had been before, except that
the thought had come into Graeme's mind, and could not quite be
forgotten again.

After that the time still went quietly on, and Charlie came and went,
and was welcomed as before; but Graeme looking on him now with
enlightened eyes, saw, or thought she saw, more and more clearly every
day, the secret that he did not seem in haste to utter. And every day
she saw it with less pain, and waited, at last, glad and wondering, for
the time when the lover's word should change her sister's shy and
somewhat stately courtesy into a frank acceptance of what could not but
be precious, Graeme thought, though still unknown or unacknowledged.
And then the mention of Amy Roxbury's name, and the talk that followed,
startled her into the knowledge that she had been dreaming.

"Rose," said she, after they had been up-stairs for some time, and were
about to separate for the night, "what was the matter with Harry this
evening?"

"What, indeed?" said Rose, laughing. "He was quite out of sorts about
something."

"I did not think he knew the Roxburys. He certainly has not known them
long," said Graeme.

"No, not very long--at least, not Miss Amy, who has only just returned
home, you know. But I think she was not at the root of his trouble; at
least, not directly. I think he has found out a slight mistake of his,
with regard to `his friend and partner.' That is what vexed him," said
Rose.

"I don't know what you mean?" said Graeme, gravely. "I should think
Harry