had been the wedding
ring of the dowager long ago, and she had given it to Kenneth McVeigh
that morning for the ceremony.

"Maman would approve if she knew all," she assured herself, and now
she touched the ring to remind her of many things, and to blot out the
remembrance of others, for instance, the avowal of love under the
arbor in the dusk of the night before!

"But _that_ was last night," she thought, grimly; "the darkness made
me impressionable, the situation made of me a nervous fool, who said
the thing she felt and had no right to feel. It is no longer night,
and I am no longer a fool! Do not let me forget, little ring, why I
allowed you to be placed there. I am going to tell him now, and I
shall need you and--Maman."

So she passed into the library; there could be no further delay, since
the guard had arrived; Monroe should not be sacrificed.

She closed the door after her and looked around. A man was in the
large arm chair by the table, but it was not Colonel McVeigh. It was
Matthew Loring, whose man Ben was closing a refractory banging
shutter, and drawing curtains over the windows, while Pluto brought in
a lighted lamp for the table, and both of them listened stoically to
Loring's grumbling.

For a wonder he approved of the innovation of lamps and closed
shutters. He had, in fact, come from his own room because of the fury
of the storm. He growled that the noise of it annoyed him, but would
not have acknowledged the truth, that the force of it appalled him,
and that he shrank from being alone while the lightning threw threats
in every direction, and the crashes of thunder shook the house.

"No, Kenneth isn't here," he answered, grumpily. "They told me he was,
but the nigger lied."

"Mahsa Kenneth jest gone up to his own room, Madame Caron," said
Pluto, quietly. "Mist'ess, she went, too, an' Judge Clarkson."

"Humph! Clarkson has got him pinned down at last, has he?" and there
was a note of satisfaction in his tone. "I was beginning to think that
between this fracas with the spy, and his galloping around the
country, he would have no time left for business. I should not think
you'd consider it worth while to go pleasure-riding such a morning as
this."

"Oh, yes; it was quite worth while," she answered, serenely; "the
storm did not break until our return. You are waiting for Colonel
McVeigh? So am I, and in the meantime I am at your service, willing to
be entertained."

"I am too much upset to en