you now
leave undone."

"My business is finished. It happens to be a pleasure to return to
Oaklands."

I murmured my thanks to Mr. Bovyer, and withdrew the hand he was still
holding.

When we were at last alone, Mrs. Flaxman drew her chair near the fire and
settling back comfortably as if she were in no hurry to retire, said very
seriously:--"This is unexpected--our going home to-morrow."

"I am afraid Bovyer is about making an ass of himself. Strange what
weaknesses come over strong men sometimes! He was the last I should
have expected such a thing from," Mr. Winthrop said.

"Was it fear of this that sends you home so abruptly?" Mrs. Flaxman
asked, with a look of amusement.

"One reason."

"He would be a very good _parti_; only a little too old, perhaps."

"What are you thinking of? I shall not let that child get entangled for
years." He said, almost angrily.

"What has Mr. Bovyer done?" I inquired, a good deal mystified.

"You are too young to have everything explained. I want you to keep your
child's heart for a good many years yet."

"What a pity young people cannot keep the child's heart until they get
some good out of life. Not begin at once with its storms and passions,"
Mrs. Flaxman remarked, in a moralizing tone.

"Do you mean falling in love, Mrs. Flaxman?"

"Possibly that was what I meant, but it is to be a tabooed topic with you
for some years yet, Mr. Winthrop decides."

"You have been unusually fortunate in that respect, Mr. Winthrop. I
used to think every one fell in love before they came to your age." Mrs.
Flaxman glanced at him with a pained, startled look which I did not
understand. I noticed that his face though grave was unruffled; but he
made me no reply.

I could not explain the reason, but I felt grieved that I had made the
remark, and slipped quietly out of the room without my usual good-night.

The next day we left for home. Mr. Winthrop was not fortunate in meeting
friends; so he sat beside us. I would have preferred being alone with
Mrs. Flaxman, without the restraint of his society. We had not been able
on that train to secure a parlor car, for which I was very glad. There
seemed more variety and wider types of humanity in the plainer car, and I
liked to study the different groups and indulge in my dreams concerning
them. My attention was suddenly attracted, at a station we were
approaching, by a hearse and funeral procession apparently waiting for
us. The cars moving al