. Malcolm had
made some humorous speech or other about his wonderful agility for a
man of his age, when Mrs. Godfrey remarked innocently--

"How strange that you should say that, Mr. Herrick! It is just word for
word what Elizabeth said when she was last here. I never saw two people
think so alike;" and here Mrs. Godfrey laughed quite merrily, for once
before she had accused Malcolm of making Elizabethan speeches. But her
laugh died away when she saw Malcolm's face. It was too sudden, and he
was not prepared; but the next moment he was hanging over the parapet
trying to catch a peacock butterfly, and was actually joining in the
laugh.

"That reminds me of a funny story," he said, speaking rather rapidly,
"of two fellows who coined each other's ideas and got rather mixed
sometimes;" and he told her the story from beginning to end with his
old vivacity, and when he had finished it he went off in search of the
Colonel.

But Mrs. Godfrey looked thoughtfully at the distant prospect until
Malcolm's footsteps were no longer audible.

"I feel like a burglar," she said to herself--"as though I had picked a
lock and stolen something. I, to call myself a clever woman and never
to guess it! But he has been too deep for me. He is very strong; one
might as well try to open an oyster with one's nails as to find out
anything Malcolm Herrick wishes to hide."

Mrs. Godfrey's face grew more troubled. "His mouth was like iron," she
whispered, "but his face was so white in the sunshine. Poor
fellow--poor fellow," in quite a caressing tone. "But you will be safe
with me--even Alick shall not know. I wonder if he guesses anything; he
only said yesterday that Mr. Herrick was different somehow. Ah,
Elizabeth," she went on, pacing the terrace restlessly, "even wise
women like you and me make mistakes sometimes. Yes, yes, you have made
a great mistake, my dear;" and then she went into the house to get
ready for her walk.

Malcolm went to Norway, and wondered why he did not enjoy himself more.
He had congenial companions, good sport, and the weather was distinctly
favourable, but he could not get rid of his trouble. Wherever he went,
in sunlight or moonlight, the shadowy presence of the woman he loved so
passionately walked beside him. On the shores of the lonely fiord or in
the pine forests, Elizabeth's bright, speaking face seemed to move
before him like a will o' the wisp; even in the rustle of the summer
breeze in the leaves he could h