he right man!"

At which, however, Dolly showed all her dimples, and laughed so
comically that Mrs. Eberstein, right or wrong, was obliged to laugh
with her.

Mr. Copley had once said a true thing about his daughter; that if she
married Mr. St. Leger she would be devoted to him. "If"--yes, so she
would. And being now married to somebody else, Dolly was a very
incarnation of loyalty to her husband. Alas, many another woman has
trusted so, on less grounds, and made shipwreck; but Dolly's faith was
well founded, and there was no shipwreck in store for her.

So the day came when all was in readiness, and the two ladies took a
satisfied review of their work. It was the day when Mr. Shubrick was
looked for home. The "Red Chief" had arrived in port; and Sandie had
written that by the evening of this day he hoped to be at home.
Everything was in order; fires were lighted; a servant installed below
stairs; supper prepared; nothing left to be done anywhere. Dolly had
seen to the supper carefully herself; indeed, for a day or two there
had been some very thoughtful cooking and baking going on; which Mrs.
Eberstein had watched with great interest, some amusement, and ever so
little a bit of jealousy.

"Is Mr. Shubrick a difficult man to please?" she demanded.

"How can I tell?" said Dolly. "I have only seen him in our house, not
in his own. He did not scold there; but how do I know what he may do
here?"

"Scold!" repeated Mrs. Eberstein. "Dolly, I believe it would rouse all
the wickedness there is in me, if anybody should scold _you!_"

Dolly flushed rosily, and then she fairly laughed out.

"I will tell you a secret, Aunt Hal," she said. "I don't mean that in
this matter, at least, he shall find any occasion."

So the supper was ready, and the table was set, and fires were bright.
Mrs. Eberstein stayed with Dolly till the evening began to fall, and
then went back to the inn; averring that she would not for the universe
be found in Mr. Shubrick's house when he came. Dolly stood at the
window and watched her aunt's dark figure moving down to the gate, and
then still stood at the window watching. It was all snow stillness
outside.

There was a faint moonlight, which glistened on the white ground and
bare elm branches. A few inches of snow had fallen the day before; the
sun had thawed the surface slightly, and then it had frozen in a
glittering smooth crust. It was still outside as only leafless winter
can be, when there