ven;
Leaving the time-worn soul to slake
Its thirst in an undoubted heaven.'"

Then Miss Alida's entrance broke up the conversation, and the
Professor bade them "good-night." And in some way he made them feel
that he had received help and strength, and not merely pleasure, from
the interview. The clasp of his hand went to the heart, and both in
his eyes and in Peter's eyes there was that singular brilliance which
is the result of seeing, as in a vision, things invisible.

Suddenly every one was weary. Harry went away with the Professor,
promising to come early the following evening, which was to be the
last of Adriana's visit. The next day she would return to Woodsome
with her father, and her trunks were already packed for the flitting.
However, a week or two later Miss Alida was to follow her, and in the
interval Adriana looked forward with some pleasure to a life of
reflection and rest. She meant to cast up accounts with herself, and
see whether she had been a loser, or a gainer, by the winter's
experience.

The next morning both the ladies were silent and weary, and not
inclined to movement. They preferred to dawdle over their coffee, to
wonder whether Rose was seasick, and to discuss the smaller details of
the ceremony, that had been too insignificant for the first prime
criticism. Then the newspaper accounts were to praise and to blame,
and the morning passed in a languid after-taste of the previous day.
In the afternoon the sun was bright and warm and New York in one of
her most charming moods. "Let us have a last drive in the Park," said
Miss Alida, "for we shall have to content ourselves with woodland ways
and dusty roads for the next few months. Put on your hat and your new
suit. We may meet Harry, and if so, we can bring him back with us."

Full of pleasant expectations, Adriana dressed herself in the
sunshine, and came downstairs in an unusually merry mood. Miss Alida
looked curiously at her. "How fond she is of Harry!" she thought, "and
he is not worthy of her." But worthy or unworthy, it was evident that
Adriana was watching for and expecting her lover. "It is so
unreasonable of me," she said to her cousin, "for I told Harry last
night that I should not leave the house to-day. He wanted me to drive
with him, and I said, 'No.' My last drive with him was so happy I
feared to spoil its memory. One never knows what might occur to do
so--a shower, a cold wind, a bit of temper, or a tight shoe, or
som