thing of distrust.

"Oh, I took a ramble around the brow of the precipice," he answered,
carelessly, "and went into the tavern for a glass of water."

"And the lady," said Elsie, looking steadily in his face. "What lady was
it in a riding-dress who bore you company? Mrs. Harrington saw one from
her perch here on the ledge."

North cast a quick glance on Elizabeth, who did not speak, but sat
looking from him to her sister-in-law, as if stricken by some sudden
terror.

"It was a mistake. No lady shared my rambles," said North.

"But there was a lady," cried Mrs. Harrington, a good deal excited. "I
saw her with my own eyes. Mr. Hawkins remarked her too."

North smiled and shook his head.

"She had on a riding-habit and an upright plume like----"

"Well, well," said North, gently, "it is useless going on with the
subject. I assure you that I went down the precipice alone and came up
alone."

Mrs. Harrington looked at Elsie and smiled.

"Of course he is in honor bound to say that," she whispered.

Elsie seemed disturbed and answered quickly, "I, for one, believe that
he speaks the truth. It is folly to say that you saw any one in that
dress; besides, it was just as likely to be me as Elizabeth--our habits
are alike."

"Poor generous dove!" whispered the widow, "you know better; but if you
are satisfied it's no business of mine, only if Mellen asks me about it
I must tell the truth."

"Mary Harrington, you must have better proof than this before you dare
to make mischief between my brother and his wife," said Elsie, with a
force of expression that made the widow open her eyes wide. "Don't be
slanderous and wicked, for I won't bear that, especially against
Elizabeth."

"Dear me, what a storm I have raised. Well, well, I did not see a lady,
that's enough. And there comes that wonderful colored person of yours,
to say that the feast is spread and the chowder perfect. Come, come, one
and all."

The whole party had assembled on the ledge by this time. At Mrs.
Harrington's invitation, it moved off, and went laughing and chatting
towards a large flat rock, that gleamed out from among the surrounding
grass and mosses, like a crusted snow bank, so white and crisp was the
linen spread over it. Here a dainty repast presented itself, for the
smoking dish of chowder that stood in the centre gave its name to what
was, in fact, a sumptuous feast. Directly the noise of flying corks and
the gurgle of amber-hued wines, with