ecret well. A rugged, unhandsome one at the
best, it is softened by the last change; the sneer has gone out of it,
and an almost grand composure settles in its place. Floyd Grandon
studies it intently. A few trifling circumstances roused his distrust,
and--was it destined beforehand that he should cross Wilmarth at every
turn? He has saved his enemy's honor as well as his own, and a great
pity moves him.

Floyd attends Marcia; no one else can control her. Eugene takes Violet
and his mother, Mr. Murray has his own pretty daughter and Madame
Lepelletier. Besides this there is a long procession to the church, and
carriages without number to the beautiful cemetery two miles distant.
The world may not have much admired Mr. Wilmarth, but it knows nothing
against him, and his romantic marriage was in his favor. So he is
buried with all due respect in that depository of so many secrets,
marred and gnarled and ruined lives.

Marcia is brought home to her brother's and takes to her bed. The day
following is Sunday, a glorious, sun-ripe September day. The air is
rich with ripening fruit, the pungent odor of drying balsams,
chrysanthemums coming into bloom, and asters starring the hillsides.
The sky is a faultless blue overhead, the river takes its tint and
flows on, a broad blue ribbon between rocky shores. A strange, calm day
that moves every one to silence and tender solemnity.

But to Sunday succeeds the steady tramp of business. Fortunately for
Marcia, and Floyd as well, Mr. Wilmarth has made a will in the first
flush of marital satisfaction, bequeathing nearly everything to her,
except a few legacies. It increased her adoration at the time, and did
no harm to him since he knew he could change it if he saw passionately,
decorously, and she can also enjoy her new found liberty.

Laura's return is next in order, and she is not a little surprised at
the changes. The Murrays are still at Grandon Park; Floyd insists upon
this, as he really does not want Marcia to return, brotherly kind as he
proves to her. The Latimers go to the city, and the professor is again
domiciled a brief while at the cottage that seems so like home. Laura
and Mr. Delancy set up a house of their own, and Marcia has a craze
about the furnishing, making herself quite useful. Laura considers her
rather picturesque, with the brief romance for background. But Eugene's
engagement delights her.

"Upon my word, mamma," she exclaims, "you are a singularly fortun