coat, rising on tip-toe to tie his muffler,
and bending her bright head to see that his galoshes were properly
fastened; her charming face with its far-away look, shining strangely
sweet in the dim hall, in contrast with his severe and antiquated
countenance.

He watched her carefully but with seeming indifference till all was done
and he stood ready to depart, then in an awkward enough way--he was not
accustomed to bestow endearments--drew her to him and kissed her on the
forehead; after which he turned about and departed without a word to
season or explain this unwonted manifestation of tenderness.

A kiss was an unusual occurrence in that confiding but undemonstrative
household, and the little maiden trembled. "Something is wrong," she
murmured half to herself, half to the dim vista of the lonely parlor,
where but a night or so ago had stood the beloved form of him, who, bury
the thought as she would, had become, if indeed he had not always been,
the beginning and the ending of all her maidenly dreams: "what? what?"
And her young heart swelled painfully as she realized like many a woman
before her, that whatever might be her doubts, fears, anguish or
suspense, nothing remained for her but silence and a tedious waiting for
others to recognize her misery and speak.

Meanwhile how was it with her dearest friend and confident, Paula? The
morning, as I have already declared, was bright and exceptionally
beautiful. Sunshine filled the air and freshness invigorated the breeze.
Cicely was blind to it all, but as Paula looked from her window
preparatory to going below, a close observer might have perceived that
the serenity of the cloudless sky was reflected in her beaming eyes,
that peace brooded above her soul and ruled her tender spirit. She had
held a long conversation with Miss Belinda, she had prayed, she had
slept and she had risen with a confirmed love in her heart for the man
who was at once the admiration of her eyes and the well-spring of her
deepest thoughts and wildest longings. "I will show him so plainly what
the angels have told me," whispered she, "that he will have no need to
ask." And she wound her long locks into the coil that she knew he best
liked and fixed a rose at her throat, and so with a smile on her lip
went softly down stairs. O the timid eager step of maidenhood when
drawing toward the shrine of all it adores! Could those halls and lofty
corridors have whispered their secret, what a story they