ck neatly tied
locks, too, that had no rightful place there in one of his age. The
younger and stronger assisted and watched over his older companion with
the tenderest care and attention.

They rode slowly up the pleasant road under the great trees, from time
to time engaging in a desultory conversation. Philip endeavored to
cheer his companion by talking lightly of boyhood days, as each turn of
the road brought familiar places in the old estate in view. Here he
and Katharine and Hilary had been wont to play; there was a favorite
spot, a pleasant haunt here, this had been the scene of some amusing
adventure. These well-meant reminiscences nearly drove Seymour mad,
but he would not stop them. Finally, they came to the place where the
road divided, one branch pursuing its course along the river-bank past
the boat-house toward the Talbot place, the other turning inland from
the river and winding about till it surmounted the high bluff and
reached the door of the Hall. There Philip drew rein.

"This is the way to the Hall, you know, Captain Seymour," he said,
pointing to the right. Seymour hesitated a moment, and said finally,--

"Yes, I know; the boat-house lies over there, does it not, beyond the
turn? I think I will let you go up to the house alone, Philip, and I
will go down to the boat-house myself. I will ride back presently."

"Well, then, I will go with you," said Philip. "I really think you are
too weak, you know, especially after our long ride to-day, to go alone."

"No, Philip," said Seymour, gently, "I wish to be alone for a few
moments."

The boy hesitated.

"Oh, very well," he said, beginning to understand, "I will sit down
here on this tree by the road and wait for you. I 'll tie my horse,
and you can leave yours here also, if you wish. There is nothing at
the Hall, God knows, to make me hurry up there now, since father and
Katharine are gone," he continued with a sigh. "Go on, sir, I'll wait.
You won't mind my waiting?"

"No, certainly not, if you wish it I shall be back in a few minutes
anyway. I just want to see the--the--ah--boathouse, you know."

"Yes, certainly, I understand, of course," replied Philip, bluntly, but
carefully looking away, and then dismounting from his tired horse and
assisting Seymour to do the same from his.

"Poor old fellow!" he murmured, as he saw the man walk haltingly and
painfully up the road and disappear around the little bend.

Left to himself Seym