he
was speaking at this moment, and that she held her breath to hear John's
reply to the invitation.

"I will go with pleasure, sir," said John.

"And Miss Dacre?" piped Mrs. Hill. "Will she not also come and dine with
us?"

"I fear we should be bad company to-night," put in Rachel quickly. "We
shall be so tired; it would be a poor compliment to ask her to come and
look at us nodding in our chairs. Say to-morrow, instead. Margery Dacre,
will you come and spend a long day with us to-morrow?"

But Margery Dacre had at that moment no wish to spend such a day. I
said, "No, thank you, Miss Leonard; I shall be otherwise engaged both
to-day and to-morrow." And then, feeling that I had spoken very coldly,
and seeing that she looked troubled, I added, forcing a smile, "The
winter will be long enough for our civilities."

"But not for our friendship, I trust," she replied quickly, seizing my
hands, while her face cleared, and sincerity seemed to beam out of it,
like the sun out of a May sky. I felt her fascination; but it sickened
me somehow, and I dropped her hands, and thought of saying good-morning
to the group, and returning to the farm alone, so that John might not
feel himself hindered from going to breakfast as well as to dine with
these new old friends of his who were so eager for his company. But
before I had time to act upon the thought Mr. Hill handed Rachel into
the carriage, followed her himself, and the carriage rolled away. John
and I were left standing there together; I stupid, like one awakened
from a dream, staring at the wheel-marks on the snow and at other signs
which these people, in passing, had left behind them.

I turned and walked on silently towards the farm, and John walked beside
me. A weight of doubt and wonder pressed on my heart like a load of ice.
Why had John wanted to conceal from me his acquaintance with Rachel
Leonard? Why had they both been so strangely moved at meeting? I longed
to ask a question; but I could not find my voice. I longed for John to
speak, and tell me something--anything at all that he liked; and were it
the strangest puzzle that ever failed to be unriddled, I swore to my own
heart that I would believe him.

"Margery," said John, speaking as if in answer to my thought--and he
came nearer to me, for we had walked a little apart, and drew my hand
through his arm, and looked down in my face--"Margery," he said, "look
me straight in the eyes," and I looked, and saw them fu