ced out of the room and through the house, and Elizabeth heard
her voice on the lawn, calling to Tom, to know if the boat was ready.

Elizabeth kept her seat, looking absently across the water. Presently
she saw the little skiff shoot out from the shore, under the impetus of
Tom's muscular arms, while Elsie leaned back in the stern, wrapped in a
pale blue shawl, and reminding Elizabeth of the old German legend of the
Lurlei.

She sat there a long time, with her former mournful thoughts all
trooping back, like ravens to a desolated nest. The gloom upon her
spirits waxed deeper, and the chill that had begun during the past days
to creep about her heart tightened and grew cold, as if it were changing
to an icy band, which would freeze her pulses in its tightening clasp.
She looked out through the sunshine, watching the light boat till it
became a mere speck in the distance, and finally disappeared among the
windings of the long curve of land which stretched out into the ocean.

Thinking, thinking, always the same dreary round, till she grew so weary
with the ceaseless anxiety, the constant necessity for plots and plans,
the need of reflection, even, in slightest act, and, worse than all, the
sleepless fear of discovery which hovered over her, asleep or awake,
that it seemed sometimes that she could no longer uphold the burden, but
must allow it to fall and crush her.

The afternoon was passing, but the little boat had not yet appeared in
sight again. There was no danger that Tom would think of fatigue while
he could sit looking in the face of his syren, listening to her low,
sweet songs; nor was there the slightest possibility of her ever
remembering that the strongest muscles must at last feel a little need
of relaxation. Just as long as it pleased her to float over the sunlit
waters, carolling her pretty melodies or talking gay nonsense to Tom,
and blinding him utterly with the wicked lightning of her eyes, she
would think of nothing else.

At last Mr. Mellen's step sounded in the hall. Elizabeth heard it, and
immediately gathered up her embroidery silks, making a great pretence of
being busy, lest he should enter suddenly, and pierce her with one of
his dark, suspicious glances, which made her heart actually stand still
with apprehension.

He came on towards the room, looked in at the door and saw his wife
sitting there apparently quiet, comfortable, and wholly occupied with
her pretty task.

She glanced up and