in the
case which was no mystery. He seemed to feel that fate had impishly
changed his vis-a-vis in the lover's jig he was about to foot; that while
the gown had been expected to enclose a Sally, a Helena's face looked out
from the bodice; that some long-lost hand met his own from the sleeves.

Sally could see that whatever Helena might know of Darton, she knew
nothing of how the dress entered into his embarrassment. And at moments
the young girl would have persuaded herself that Darton's looks at her
sister-in-law were entirely the fruit of the clothes query. But surely
at other times a more extensive range of speculation and sentiment was
expressed by her lover's eye than that which the changed dress would
account for.

Sally's independence made her one of the least jealous of women. But
there was something in the relations of these two visitors which ought to
be explained.

Japheth Johns continued to converse in his well-known style,
interspersing his talk with some private reflections on the position of
Darton and Sally, which, though the sparkle in his eye showed them to be
highly entertaining to himself, were apparently not quite communicable to
the company. At last he withdrew for the night, going off to the
roadside inn half-a-mile back, whither Darton promised to follow him in a
few minutes.

Half-an-hour passed, and then Mr. Darton also rose to leave, Sally and
her sister-in-law simultaneously wishing him good-night as they retired
upstairs to their rooms. But on his arriving at the front door with Mrs.
Hall a sharp shower of rain began to come down, when the widow suggested
that he should return to the fire-side till the storm ceased.

Darton accepted her proposal, but insisted that, as it was getting late,
and she was obviously tired, she should not sit up on his account, since
he could let himself out of the house, and would quite enjoy smoking a
pipe by the hearth alone. Mrs. Hall assented; and Darton was left by
himself. He spread his knees to the brands, lit up his tobacco as he had
said, and sat gazing into the fire, and at the notches of the chimney-
crook which hung above.

An occasional drop of rain rolled down the chimney with a hiss, and still
he smoked on; but not like a man whose mind was at rest. In the long
run, however, despite his meditations, early hours afield and a long ride
in the open air produced their natural result. He began to doze.

How long he remained in this hal