ast the corner house
and found they were carrying in the luggage, and Miss Campion was
standing at the door talking to a colored servant."

"You actually passed the house? Oh, Margaret, how imprudent. Supposing
Crystal had seen you from the window?"

"Oh, my cloak and veil disguised me; besides, there is a long strip of
garden between the house and the road. I could hardly distinguish
Crystal, though I could see there was some one in the parlor. And now,
what are we to do, Raby? It will never do to risk a meeting at _table
d'hote_; in a crowded room, Crystal might see us, and make her escape
before I could manage to intercept her; and yet, how are we to intrude
on Miss Campion? it will be dreadfully awkward for us all."

"I must think over it," he answered, quickly. "It is growing dark now,
Margaret, is it not?"

"Yes, dear, do you feel chilly--shall we go in?"

"No, I want you to take me further; there is a gate leading to the
road, is there not? I should like to go past the house; it will make
it seem more real, Maggie, and you shall describe exactly how it is
situated."

Margaret complied at once--not for worlds would she have hinted that
she was already nearly spent with fatigue and want of food. Cathy, the
bright little mulatto chamber-maid, would get her a cup of tea and a
sandwich presently. Raby's lover-like wish must be indulged; he wanted
to pass the house that held his treasure.

It was bright moonlight by this time, and the piazza had been long
deserted. The shadows were dark under the avenue, for the road was
thickly planted with trees. Just as they were nearing the corner
house--a low, white building, with a veranda running round
it--Margaret drew Raby somewhat hastily behind a tall maple, for her
keen eyes had caught sight of two figures standing by the gate. As the
moon emerged from behind a cloud, she saw Crystal plainly; Miss
Campion was beside her with a black veil thrown over her gray hair.

Margaret's whispered "hush!" was a sufficient hint to Raby, and he
stood motionless. The next moment the voice that was dearer to him
than any other sounded close beside him--at least it seemed so in the
clear, resonant atmosphere.

"What a delicious night; how white that patch of moonlighted road
looks where the trees do not cast their shadows so heavily. I like
this quiet road. I am quite glad the boarding-house was full; I think
the cottage is much cozier."

"Cozier, yes," laughed the other; "but