indow; she knew the
seamstress was in the daily habit of taking a little twilight walk in
her favourite circle, round and round the fish-pond, and she could see
from where she stood when she went out.

"I'll show her to him," thought Eeny, "and see if it flurries him as it
did her. There is something between them, if one could get to the bottom
of it."

Rose's song ended. The sunset faded out in a pale blank of dull
gray--twilight fell over the frozen ground. A little black figure,
wearing a shawl over its head, fluttered out into the mysterious
half-light, and began pacing slowly round the frozen fish-pond.

"Doctor Frank," said Eeny, "come here and see the moon rise."

"How romantic!" laughed Rose. But the Doctor went and stood by her side.

The wintry crescent-moon was sailing slowly up, with the luminous
evening star resplendent beside her, glittering on the whitened earth.

"Pretty," said the Doctor; "very. Solemn, and still, and white! What
dark fairy is that gliding round the fish-pond?"

"That," said Eeny, "is Agnes Darling."

"Who?" questioned Doctor Danton, suddenly and sharply.

"Agnes Darling, our seamstress. Dear me, Doctor Danton, one would think
you knew her!"

There had been a momentary change in his face, and Eeny's suspicious
eyes were full upon him--only momentary, though; it was gone directly,
and his unreadable countenance was as calm as a summer's sky. Doctor
Frank might have been born a duke, so radically and unaffectedly
nonchalant was he.

"The name has a familiar sound; but I don't think I know your
seamstress. Go and play me a waltz, Eeny."

There was no getting anything out of Doctor Danton which he did not
choose to tell. Eeny knew that, and went over to the piano, a little
provoked at the mystery they made of it.

But destiny that shapes our ends, rough-hew them how we will, had made
up its mind for further revelations, and against destiny even Doctor
Frank was powerless. Destiny lost no time either--the revelation came
the very next evening. Kate and Eeny had been to St. Croix, visiting
some of Kate's poor pensioners, and evening was closing in when they
reached the Hall. A lovely evening--calm, windless, still; the moon's
silver disk brilliant in an unclouded sky, and the holy hush of eventide
over all. The solemn beauty of the falling night tempted Kate to linger,
while Eeny went on to the house. There was a group of tall pines, with a
rustic bench, near the entrance-gate