window for the captain's passing. When at
length he appeared, she was standing so close to the glass, her eyes
so unmistakably met his side-look, that he could not pretend he had
not seen her. As he bowed with most respectful civility, she beckoned
him with a single movement of a finger, and went, herself, to let him
in. When he had followed her into our parlour, his manner was
outwardly of the most delicate consideration, but she thought she saw
beneath it a certain uneasiness. They spoke awhile of her removal from
her father's house; but he avoided question as to its cause, or as to
her intentions. At last, she said directly, with assumed lightness:

"I think of going to London with my brother, on the _Phoebe_."

She was watching him closely: his face brightened wonderfully.

"I vow, you could do nothing better," he said. "_There_ is _your_
world. I've always declared you were a stranger in this far-off land.
'Tis time you found your proper element. I can't help confessing it;
'tis due to you I should confess it--though alas for us whom you leave
in New York!"

She looked at him for a moment, with a slight curling of the lip;
witnessed his recovery from the fear that she might throw herself upon
his care; saw his comfort at being relieved of a possible burden he
was not prepared to assume; and then said, very quietly:

"I think Mrs. Russell is coming. You had best go."

With a look of gallant adoration, he made to kiss her hand first. But
she drew it away, and put her finger to her lip, as if to bid him
depart unheard. When he had left the house, she fell upon the sofa and
wept, but only for wounded vanity, for chagrin that she had exposed
her heart to one of those gentry who will adore a woman until there is
danger of her becoming an embarrassment.

Before long, she arose, and dried her eyes, and went up-stairs to pack
her trunks. Thus ended this very light affair of the heart; which had
so heavy consequences for so many people.

But Captain Falconer's inward serenity was not to escape with this
unexpectedly easy ordeal. When he reached his room, he found me
awaiting him, as the representative of Tom Faringfield. I had, in
obedience to my sense of duty, put forth a few conventional
dissuasions against Tom's fighting the captain; and had presumed to
hint that I was nearer to him in years and experience than Tom was.
But the boy replied with only a short, bitter laugh at the assured
futility of my attempts. Pl