t and urged his horse forward. But,
having withdrawn himself a step or two, he paused and with the slightest
gesture toward the little hut he was facing, added in a much lower tone
than any he had yet used: "Besides, Deacon Spear is much too far away
from Mother Jane's cottage. Don't you remember that I told you she never
could be got to go more than forty rods from her own doorstep?" And,
breaking into a quick canter, he rode away.

I was left to think over his words and the impossibility of my picking
up any other clue than that given me by Mr. Gryce.

I was turning toward the house when I heard a slight noise at my feet.
Looking down, I encountered the eyes of Saracen. He was crouching at my
side, and as I turned toward him, his tail actually wagged. It was a
sight to call the color up to my cheek; not that I blushed at this sign
of good-will, astonishing as it was, considering my feeling toward dogs,
but at his being there at all without my knowing it. So palpable a proof
that no woman--I make no exceptions--can listen more than one minute to
the expressions of a man's sincere admiration without losing a little of
her watchfulness, was not to be disregarded by one as inexorable to her
own mistakes as to those of others. I saw myself the victim of vanity,
and while somewhat abashed by the discovery, I could not but realize
that this solitary proof of feminine weakness was not really to be
deplored in one who has not yet passed the line beyond which any such
display is ridiculous.

Lucetta met me at the door just as I had expected her to. Giving me a
short look, she spoke eagerly but with a latent anxiety, for which I was
more or less prepared.

"I am glad to see you looking so bright this morning," she declared. "We
are all feeling better now that the incubus of secrecy is removed.
But"--here she hesitated--"I would not like to think you told Mr. Trohm
what happened to us yesterday."

"Lucetta," said I, "there may be women of my age who delight in
gossiping about family affairs with comparative strangers, but I am not
that kind of woman. Mr. Trohm, friendly as he has proved himself and
worthy as he undoubtedly is of your confidence and trust, will have to
learn from some other person than myself anything which you may wish to
have withheld from him."

For reply she gave me an impulsive kiss. "I thought I could trust you,"
she cried. Then, with a dubious look, half daring, half shrinking, she
added:

"When yo