an irresistible attraction--some spell of bewitchment. You
must inform me. What brings you to this wandering wood like a lost
Una?"

"Business. I came a passenger on General Wilkinson's barge. We had a
delightful voyage, a May festival, gaiety, music, dancing."

"Do you recollect passing Bacchus Island?"

"Yes. Why do you ask? We floated by the interesting place one heavenly
afternoon. We saw four persons looking at us from a high bank--two
couples that seemed strolling lovers. I wondered if either of the
women could be the beautiful Madam Blennerhassett. We were dancing on
the deck--that is, the other ladies were; I do not now dance."

"I grieve to see that you do not, Mrs. Rosemary. I did not even know
that you had become his wife; these mournful robes tell me you are a
widow."

"You did not know? Do you care? You grieve to see me a widow? Ah, me!
Men are consistent. Let me explain the cause of my coming West. I own
ever so much land near Cincinnati and a whole block of town lots,
bequeathed to me by my late husband. George was kinder to me than I
deserved. When I read his will I cried. I went to my lawyer in
Philadelphia and asked what I should do to realize most on this Ohio
property. He advised me to come here, and have the title examined, and
learn the real value of the land, and he gave me a letter to Senator
Smith, who, he said, was a good man, one who knows about law and deeds
and everything. So I am here. These pokey people are very obliging;
they insisted I should lodge with them until my affairs were settled.
Now you have my story--tell me yours. As for my bereavement--my
heart history--why speak of that?" A film of tears dimmed her eyes as
Burr made answer in soothing words.

"I am to blame. Let us not pain ourselves by talking or thinking of
death or mourning. I dreamt lately of you as you now appear. How
beautiful and brilliant you look in black, Salome. Pardon me,
Madam--, I knew you by that name in the past, and you must not be
offended if I recall."

"Ah! do not recall. I am willing for you to let bygones be
bygones--if--you--desire. Do you like this black gown better than
the blue brocaded one I wore that evening at Princeton?"

"How can I decide? You always dress in perfect taste. Whatever you
wear is pretty, and you, I am sure, are lovelier than ever."

Smilingly the young widow sighed, then in a listening attitude, with
finger on lip, whispered, "Sh! Our hostess!" and changing her voice