e hall: "Is a little man with
him?--a black-eyed man?" She passed into the drawing-room, and, pressing
her brow against the window-pane, looked out into the night. The snow
had ceased to fall, and the moon was struggling with the breaking
clouds. The door opened to admit her husband, who came for a moment to
her side. "It is not snowing now," he said. "A visitor will hardly knock
on such a night. If by chance one should come, say that I am engaged
with a client, make my excuses, and as soon as possible get rid of him.
On no account--on no account, Jacqueline, would I have it known that
Aaron Burr is here to-night. This is important. I will keep the doors
shut, and we will not speak loudly." He turned to go, then hesitated.
"On second thoughts, I will tell Joab to excuse us both at the door. For
you--do not sit up, dear heart! It will be late before our business is
done."

He was gone. Jacqueline went back to the fire and, sitting down beneath
the high mantel, opened the fifth volume of Clarissa Harlowe. She read
for a while, then closed the book, and with her chin in her hand fell to
studying the ruddy hollows and the dropping coals. Perhaps half an hour
passed. The door opened, and she looked up from her picture in the deep
hollows to see Ludwell Cary smiling down upon her and holding out his
hand. "Perhaps I should have drifted past with the snow," he said, "but
the light in the window drew me, and I heard to-day from Fontenoy. Mr.
Rand, I know, is at home."

"Yes," answered Jacqueline, rising, "but he is much engaged to-night
with--with a friend. Did Joab not tell you?"

"Mammy Chloe let me in. I did not see Joab. I am sorry--"

He hesitated. There came a blast of wind that rattled the boughs of the
maple outside the window. The fire leaped and the shadows danced in the
corners of the room. Jacqueline knew that it was cold outside--her
visitor's coat was wet with snow. Sitting there before the fire she had
been lonely, and her heart was hungry for news from home.

"May I stay a few minutes?" asked Cary. "I will read you what Major
Edward says of Fontenoy."

She was far from dreaming how little Rand would wish this visitor to
know of his affairs that night. Her knowledge extended no further than
the fact that for some reason Colonel Burr did not wish it known that he
was in Richmond. She listened, but the walls were thick, and she heard
no sound from the distant dining-room. Cary would know only what she
told h