lender
pillars, gave a pleasant shade even at noonday. Broad low steps led to
the gardens, and deck-chairs and cushioned rocking-chairs were placed
invitingly at intervals.

A gay bevy of girls had just taken possession of these coveted seats,
and were chattering with the young men who had just followed them out
of the hot dining-room; but no one invaded the quiet corner where the
English clergyman had established himself, though many a pair of
laughing eyes grew a little sad and wistful when they rested on the
grave, abstracted face of the blind man.

"He looks so dull," observed one girl--a fair delicate blonde, who was
evidently the belle, for she was surrounded by at least half a dozen
young men. "I have half a mind to go and speak to him myself, only you
would all be watching me."

"Miss Bellagrove can not fail to be the cynosure of all eyes,"
returned a beardless dapper young man with the unmistakable Yankee
accent; but to this remark Miss Bellagrove merely turned a cold
shoulder.

"His sister has been away most of the afternoon," she continued,
addressing a good-looking young officer who held her fan. "It was so
clever of you to find out that she was his sister, Captain Maudsley. I
had quite made up my mind they were married; yes, of course, every one
must notice the likeness between them, but then they might have been
cousins, and she does seem so devoted to him." But here a whispered
admonition in her ear made Miss Bellagrove break off her sentence
rather abruptly, as at that moment Miss Ferrers's tall figure, in the
usual gray gown, was seen crossing one of the little lawns toward the
piazza.

"She is wonderfully distinguished looking," was Miss Bellagrove's next
remark. "Most Englishwoman are tall, I do believe; don't you think her
face beautiful, Captain Maudsley?" but the reply to this made Miss
Bellagrove change color very prettily. Raby was profoundly oblivious
of the interest he was exciting; he was wondering what had detained
Margaret all these hours, and if she would have any news to bring him.

As yet their journey had been fruitless. They had reached New York
just as Miss Campion and her companion had quitted it; they had
followed on their track--but had always arrived either a day or an
hour too late. Now and then they had to wait until a letter from Fern
gave them more decided particulars. Occasionally they made a mistake,
and found that Miss Campion had changed her plans. Once they were in