t let us go into the house and talk to mother. After all, it
may not be Miriam. You cannot tell what it is. It is a cruel message."

Mrs. Drane was greatly shocked, but she agreed with her daughter that it
would not be wise for Ralph to go to Thorbury until he could start for
Barport. La Fleur was somewhat frightened when she found that her wilful
delay of the telegram might occasion Mr. Haverley an harassing and
anxious night in Thorbury, and was urgent in her endeavors to quiet him
and persuade him to remain at home until morning. But it was not until
Cicely had put in her last plea that the young man consented to give up
his intention of going in search of the telegraph operator.

"Mr. Ralph," said she, "don't you think it would be awful if you were to
send a message and get a bad answer to it, and have to stay there by
yourself until the morning? I cannot bear to think of it; and telegraphic
messages are always so hard and cruel. If I were you, I would rather go
straight on and find out everything for myself."

Ralph looked down at her and at the tears upon her cheeks.

"I will do that," he said, and taking her hand, he pressed it thankfully.

Every preparation and arrangement was made for an early start, and Ralph
wandered in and out of the house, impatient as a wild beast to break
away and be gone. Cicely, whose soul was full of his sorrow, went out to
him on the piazza, where he stood, looking at the late moon rising above
the treetops.

"What a different man I should be," he said, "if I could think that
Miriam was standing on the seashore and looking at that moon."

Cicely longed to comfort him, but she could not say anything which would
seem to have reason in it. She had tried to think that it might be
possible that the despatch might not concern Miriam, but she could not
do it. If it had been necessary to send a despatch and Miriam had been
alive and well, it would have been from her that the despatch would have
come. Cicely's soul was sick with sorrow and with dread, not only for
the brother, but for herself, for she and Miriam were now fast friends.
But she controlled herself, and looking up with a smile, said, "What
time is it?"

Ralph took out his watch and held the face of it toward the moon, which
was but little past the full.

"It is a quarter to nine," he said.

"Well, then," said she, "I will ask Miriam, when I see her, if she was
looking at the moon at this time."

"Do you believe," excla