red a remarkable knack: she had
a fine light hand: and it is an art easily learned by an attentive and
careful woman. Indeed they can beat the men at it, if they will only
make up their minds.

And so the enterprise was launched, and conducted thus: in the day time,
Henry showed himself in the town, and talked big about carving; and, in
the afternoon, he rode out, and did the real work of his life, over the
dead bodies of his ancestors.

His saddle-bags were always full, and, gradually, he collected some
comforts about him in the deserted church.

He called, more than once, at "Woodbine Villa," but Miss Carden was on a
visit.

He was in the full career of fortune again, and sanguine of success,
before they met. One day, having ascertained from Jael what day she
would be at home, he called and was admitted. The room was empty, but
Miss Carden soon came into it, accompanied by Jael carrying the bust.

"Ah, Mr. Little," said she, before he could possibly utter a word, "this
is fortunate. There is a party here on Thursday, and I want to show the
bust complete, if you don't mind."

Henry said he would finish it for her. He accordingly set to work, and
waited quietly till Jael should leave the room, to have it out with
Grace.

She, for her part, seemed to have forgotten his strange manner to her
the other day; perhaps she chose to forget it, or overlook it. But
Henry observed that Jael was not allowed to quit the room. Whatever
Miss Carden wanted she fetched herself, and came back softly, and rather
suddenly, as if she had a mind to surprise Jeel and the other too.
Female subtlety was clearly at work.

"What do you advise me?" said Henry to Jael, during one of these
intervals.

Jael never lifted her eyes from her work, and spoke under her breath,
"I think I'd be patient to-day. She must give you a chance to speak
some day. Talk to me, when she comes back--about the Cairnhope folk, or
anything."

Henry followed this advice, and Grace, for the first time, found herself
a little ignored in the conversation. She was astonished at this and I
don't think she quite liked it.

Henry was still going on with warmth and volubility about the Cairnhope
folk, their good hearts, and their superstitions, when a visitor was
announced.

"Mr. Coventry."

Henry stopped in the middle of a sentence.

Grace brightened up, and said she was at home.

Mr. Coventry entered the room; a tall, well-made man, with an aquiline
nose, an