er. I have not lived in Meadowshire long, you know, and the Millers
were moving into the house and furnishing it all last summer. I have
never been in the gardens till to-day. How strangely sad the place looks!
Let us walk round it."

They went round to the further side.

The pool of water lay dark and silent within its stone steps; not a
ripple disturbed its surface; not a dead leaf rested on its bosom. Only
the motionless water looked up everlastingly at the gray winter skies
above, and reflected them back blackly and gloomily upon its solemn face.

Vera stood still and looked at it. Something in its aspect--she could not
have told what--affected her powerfully. She went down two or three steps
towards the water, and stooped over it intently.

Maurice, watching her curiously, saw, to his surprise, that she trembled.
She turned round to him.

"Does it not look dark and deep? Is it very deep?"

"I believe it is. There are all sorts of stories about it. Come up, Vera;
why do you tremble so?"

"How dreadful to be drowned here!" she said, below her breath, and she
shuddered.

He stretched out his hand to her.

"Do not say such horrid things! Give me your hand--the steps are
slippery. What has put drowning into your head? And--why, how pale you
are; what has frightened you?"

She took his hand and came back again to where he stood.

"Do you believe in presentiments?" she said, slowly, with her eyes fixed
still, as though by some fascination, upon the dark waters beneath them.

"Not in the very least," he answered, cheerily; "do not think of such
things. John would be the first to scold you--and to scold me for
bringing you here."

He stood, holding her hand, looking at her kindly and compassionately;
suddenly she looked at him, and as their eyes met once more, she trembled
from head to foot.

"Vera, you are frightened; tell me what it is!"

"I don't know! I don't know!" she cried, with a sudden wail, like a
person in pain; "only--oh! I wish I had not seen it for the first time
with _you_!"

Before he could answer her, some one, _beckoning_ to them from the
further side of the pool, caused them both to turn suddenly round.

It was not only Herbert Pryme who had seen them wander away down the
garden from the house. Mrs. Romer, too, had been at another window and
had noticed them. To run lightly upstairs, put on her hat and jacket, and
to follow them, had been the work of but a very few minutes. Helen was