nt back to Wigfield, while she
returned home.

This young woman, who had been accustomed to reign over most of the men
about her, felt, in her newly-learned humility, a sense of elation from
merely having been a little while in the presence of the man whom she
loved. She reflected on his musing smile, had no thought that it
concerned her, and hoped nothing better than that he might never find
out how dear he was to her.

As for John Mortimer, he returned to the town, musing over some turn in
political affairs that pleased him, cogitating over the contents of a
bill then under discussion in Parliament, wondering whether it would get
much altered before the second reading, while all the time, half
unconsciously to himself, the scene in that other Parliament was present
to him.

Just as a scene; nothing more. Emily sitting on his throne--his! with
his smallest child nestling in her arms, so satisfied, one knew not
which of the two had the most assured air of possession. Half unaware,
he seemed to hear again the contented sighing of the little creature in
her sleep, and Emily's low, sweet laugh when she saw his astonishment at
her presence.

Then there was the young American stepping forward through a narrow
sunbeam into the brown shade to meet him, with such a shamefaced, boyish
air of conscious delinquency. Conscious, indeed, that he was the author
of a certain commotion, but very far, assuredly, from being conscious
that he, Gifford Crayshaw, by means of this schoolboy prank, was taking
the decisive step towards a change in the destiny of every soul then
bearing a part in it.

John Mortimer reached the town. He had rallied the boy, and made him see
his folly. "A fine young fellow," he reflected, "and full of fun. I
don't care how often he comes here," and so in thought he dismissed
Crayshaw and his boyish escapade, to attend to more important matters.

Emily, as she went towards home, was soon overtaken by the twins,
Johnnie, and Crayshaw. Opposition being now withdrawn, the latter young
gentleman had discovered that he ought to go with his brother, and was
moderately good-tempered about it. Johnnie Mortimer, on the other hand,
was gloriously sulky, and declined to take any notice of his
fellow-creatures, even when they spoke to him.

At the stepping-stones over the brook, Emily parted with the young
people, receiving from Crayshaw the verses he had copied.

"Gladys had possessed them for a week, and liked them