ril clung to her for the instant they were alone together, and
whispered, 'Oh, it is all so sweet! Don't think I don't feel it! But
you see it is all I can do for him to be as quiet as I can! Say so,
please!'

Ethel felt the throb of the heart, and knew to whom she was to say so;
but Tom's restless approaching step made Averil detach herself, and
sink into an arm-chair. Ethel left her, feeling that the short clasp
of their arms had sealed their sisterhood here and for ever.

'It is too sad, too beautiful to be talked about,' she said to
Gertrude, who was anxiously on the watch for tidings.

Obedient as Averil was, she had not understood her husband's desire
that she should seek her pillow at once. She was feeling brisk and
fresh, and by no means ready for captivity, and she presently came
forth again with her soft, feeble, noiseless step; but she had nearly
retreated again, feeling herself mistaken and bewildered, for in the
drawing-room stood neither Tom nor his sisters, but a stranger--a dark,
grave, thoughtful man of a singularly resolute and settled cast of
countenance. The rustle of her dress made him look up as she turned.
'Ave!' he exclaimed; and as their eyes met, the light in those brown
depths restored the whole past. She durst not trust herself to speak,
as her head rested on his shoulder, his arms were round her; only as
her husband came on the scene with a gesture of surprise, she said,
'Indeed, I did not mean it! I did not know he was here.'

'I might have known you could not be kept apart if I once let Leonard
in,' he said, as he arranged her on the sofa, and satisfied himself
that there were no tokens of the repressed agitation that left such
dangerous effects. 'Will you both be very good if I leave you to be
happy together?' he presently added, after a few indifferent words had
passed.

Averil looked wistfully after him, as if he were wanted to complete
full felicity even in Leonard's presence. How little would they once
have thought that her first words to her brother would be, 'Oh, was
there ever any one like him?'

'We owe it all to him,' said Leonard.

'So kind,' added Averil, 'not to be vexed, though he dreaded our
meeting so much; and you see I could not grieve him by making a fuss.
But this is nice!' she added, with a sigh going far beyond the effect
of the homely word.

'You are better. Ella said so.'

'I am feeling well to-night. Come, let me look at you, and learn your