it," returned the girl impatiently.
"Fancy a ward of Thinkright's, under his influence for weeks, having
any superstition; to say nothing of the crudest and silliest one of
them all."

"And who could she have up her sleeve, anyway?" asked Dunham
meditatively. "Is there some swain over at the Mill Farm?"

"Of course not," returned Edna irritably. "For pity's sake stop talking
as if you didn't think it was a joke."

"She wasn't joking," replied John mildly, but with a conviction that
smote his companion. "She was going to bottle the stuff, too."

"Of course. It is probably some sort of berry wine that she has heard
of, and she wants to surprise us. It was unkind of us to watch her.
Never let her know it, will you, John?"

"No; and if she gives me a drink in a few days all shall be forgiven."

Edna took a deep breath, feeling that a foolish fancied burden, such as
one bears in dreams, had been lifted from her.

At the same time Sylvia's face, bending above the brew, haunted her,
and the excited girlish voice echoed in her ears, bringing back her
unwelcome doubts. Was it not precisely John who was destined to drink
that precious wine?

CHAPTER XXIV

SYLVIA'S MYSTERY

Dunham and Miss Derwent prolonged their walk, and an hour had elapsed
before they returned to the piazza. By that time Sylvia was sitting
there in the moonlight with her aunt.

She had been telling herself how glad she was that John and Edna felt
free to go away without her. It was only the assurance that she should
not be in danger of hampering them that would make her happy in
accepting Edna's invitation to prolong her stay.

How glorious the world must look to-night to Edna! This enchanting
evening world with its dreaming waves, and myriad spires of fragrant
firs stretching toward the luminous sky strewn thickly with pulsing
stars. She shook off some thought that insinuated itself into her
conscious desire. No, no. Her place was here with Aunt Martha. Her
thought must dwell only on the possible artistic achievements of her
future; her heart turn to no lover save the good genius she had sealed
up in a bottle.

While her thoughts flowed, Miss Lacey talked. The latter was chiefly
concerned with the menu for the coming week, and since Sylvia's descent
upon the culinary department she seized upon her as a kindred spirit.

"Catering for men is very different from feeding women, I can tell you,
Sylvia. They're not going to be put off with