going for pleasure."
Ah, how almost tender now her look and tone!

"Say but once to me what I have said to you," said Leonhard joyfully,
confident now that he had won the great prize.

"Now? No: don't talk about it. Wait a while, and we will see if there is
anything in it." What queer lover's mood was this? Miss Marion looked as
if she had passed her fortieth birthday when she spoke in this wise.

"Oh for a soft sweet breeze from the north-east to temper such cruel
blasts!" exclaimed Leonhard. "Was ever man so treated as I am by this
strong-minded young woman?"

"Everybody on the grounds is looking, and wondering how she will get
home with the intemperate young gentleman she is escorting. Did you say
you were going to talk with your friend Mr. Wilberforce about going
abroad with him for a year or two?"

"I said no such thing, but perhaps I may. I was going to write, but it
may be as easy to run down to Philadelphia."

"Easier, I should say."

So they talked, and when they parted Leonhard said: "If you do not see
me to-morrow evening, you will know that I have gone to Philadelphia. I
shall not write to let you know. You might feel that an answer was
expected of you."

"I have never been taught the arts of a correspondent, and it is quite
too late to learn them," she answered.

Miss Marion will probably never again feel as old as she does this
afternoon, when she has half snubbed, half flattered and half accepted
the man she admires and loves, but whose one fault she clearly perceives
and is seriously afraid of.

The next day Leonhard sat staring at Wilberforce's letter with a face as
wrinkled as a young ape's in a cold morning fog. After one long serious
effort he sprang from his seat, and I am afraid swore that he would go
down to Philadelphia that very afternoon. Therefore (and because he
clung to the determination all day) at six o'clock behold him passing
with his satchel from the steps of the Granby House to the Grand
Division Depot. He was always going to and fro, so his departure
occasioned no remark. He supposed, for his own part, that he was going
to talk with his friend Wilberforce, and his ticket ensured his passage
to Philadelphia; and yet at eight o'clock he found himself standing on
the steps of the Spenersberg Station, and saw the train move on. At the
moment when his will seemed to him to be completely demoralized the
engine-whistle sounded and the engine stopped. Utterly unnerved by his
doub