ve
forgiven me all."

With Allan's love for his mother's memory, but one result could follow
such an avowal as this. He had liked the little room from the first,
as a pleasant contrast to the oppressive grandeur of the other rooms at
Thorpe Ambrose, and, now that he knew what associations were connected
with it, his resolution was at once taken to make it especially his own.
The same day, all his personal possessions were collected and arranged
in his mother's room--in Midwinter's presence, and with Midwinter's
assistance given to the work.

Under those circumstances had the change now wrought in the household
arrangements been produced; and in this way had Midwinter's victory over
his own fatalism--by making Allan the daily occupant of a room which
he might otherwise hardly ever have entered--actually favored the
fulfillment of the Second Vision of the Dream.

The hour wore on quietly as Allan's friend sat waiting for Allan's
return. Sometimes reading, sometimes thinking placidly, he whiled away
the time. No vexing cares, no boding doubts, troubled him now. The
rent-day, which he had once dreaded, had come and gone harmlessly. A
friendlier understanding had been established between Allan and his
tenants; Mr. Bashwood had proved himself to be worthy of the confidence
reposed in him; the Pedgifts, father and son, had amply justified their
client's good opinion of them. Wherever Midwinter looked, the prospect
was bright, the future was without a cloud.

He trimmed the lamp on the table beside him and looked out at the night.
The stable clock was chiming the half-hour past eleven as he walked to
the window, and the first rain-drops were beginning to fall. He had his
hand on the bell to summon the servant, and send him over to the cottage
with an umbrella, when he was stopped by hearing the familiar footstep
on the walk outside.

"How late you are!" said Midwinter, as Allan entered through the open
French window. "Was there a party at the cottage?"

"No! only ourselves. The time slipped away somehow." He answered in
lower tones than usual, and sighed as he took his chair.

"You seem to be out of spirits?" pursued Midwinter. "What's the matter?"

Allan hesitated. "I may as well tell you," he said, after a moment.
"It's nothing to be ashamed of; I only wonder you haven't noticed it
before! There's a woman in it, as usual--I'm in love."

Midwinter laughed. "Has Miss Milroy been more charming to-night than
ever?" h