o longer.

"Your music is very melancholy, my dear," he said quietly. "Will you not
sing us something instead."

"Not to-night, I think. I find my headache has not altogether departed.
If you will kindly excuse me, I will retire."

She got up as she spoke, lit a lamp, and with a brief good-night, was
gone.

It was not yet ten o'clock, but there was little inducement to linger
now. Mr. Gilbert owned to being rather fatigued, took his light, and
departed. Before half-past ten all were in their rooms, the doors and
windows secured for the night. By eleven all were asleep--all save one.

Norine sat at her window, her light shaded, her watch (one of Richard
Gilbert's presents to his bride elect) open before her, gazing out into
the gusty darkness, and waiting. Her hands were tightly clasped
together, silent, tearless sobs shook her at times as remorse swept
through her soul, and yet not for one minute did she think of
withdrawing from her tryst. But she would not fly with Laurence
Thorndyke--no, no! Every best impulse within her cried out she would
not, she could not. She was a wretch for even thinking of it--a wretch
for going to this meeting, but she would only go to say farewell
forever. She loved him, but she belonged to another man; it would be
better to die than to betray him. She would bid Laurence Thorndyke go
to-night, and never see him more.

The threatening storm seemed drawing very near. The moon was half
obscured in dense clouds; the wind tore around the gables; the trees
tossed their long, green arms wildly aloft. Within the house profoundest
silence reigned.

Half-past eleven! the hour of tryst; she seemed to count the moments by
the dull beating of her heart. She rose up, extinguished her lamp, put
on a waterproof, drawing the hood over her head, took her slippers in
her hand, and opened the door. She paused and listened, half choked by
the loud throbbing of her heart, by guilty, nameless dread. All was
still--no sound but the surging of the trees without; no glimmer of
light from any room. She stole on tiptoe along the passage, down the
stairs, and into the lower hall. Noiselessly she unlocked the door,
opened it, and was out in the windy dark, under the gloom of the trees.
One second's pause, her breath coming in frightened gasps, then she was
flitting away in the chill night wind to meet her lover. She reached the
gate, leaned over it eagerly, straining her eyes through the gloom.

"Laurence!" sh