very much astonished," said Mary to
me, when Mrs. McIntyre had left the room to give some directions to
the servants.

"Upon my word," said I, "I never was more so; I feel as if I were in
the midst of a fairy tale."

"Nothing so remarkable as that," she said. "But since I saw you, a
happy change, as I need not tell you now, has come over my life
through the coming of my mother's sister to America. When my mother
died, my aunt was in India. The letters that I addressed to her in
Scotland were a long time in reaching her, and then it took a long
time for her to wind up her affairs there, and find her way to this
country."

"But," said I, "what could"--

"What could induce me to do as I did? Well, I knew your mother's
character,--no matter how. I needed a support and protection, and I
resolved for a time to put myself under her wing. I knew that in case
of any real trouble I should find in her a true friend and a safe
adviser, and I hoped to earn her esteem and confidence by steadily
doing my duty. Some other time, perhaps, I will tell you more," she
added.

The return of Mrs. McIntyre put an end to our private communication,
but she insisted, with true old-world hospitality, on my remaining to
dinner.

Here I was precipitated into a romance at once. Mary had just enough
of that perverse feminine pleasure in teasing to keep my interest
alive. The fact was, she saw me becoming entangled from day to day
without any more misgivings of conscience than the celebrated spider
of the poem felt when she invited the fly to walk into her parlor.

Mrs. McIntyre took me in a very marked way into her good graces, and I
had every opportunity to ride, walk, sketch, and otherwise to attend
upon Mary; and Mary was gracious also, but so quietly and discreetly
mistress of herself that I could not for the life of me tell what to
make of her. There were all sorts of wonders and surmises boiling up
within me. What was it about McPherson? Was there anything there? Was
Mary engaged? Or was there any old affair? etc., etc. Not that it was
any business of mine; but then a fellow likes to know his ground
before--Before _what_? I thought to myself, and that unknown WHAT
every day assumed new importance in my eyes. Mary had many admirers.
Her quiet, easy, self-possessed manners, her perfect tact and grace,
always made her a favorite; but I could not help hoping that between
her and me there was that confidential sense of a mutually kept secr