sentimental about him? True, he had said one day when they were talking about friendship—what had he said that day? Was she remembering that? If she had studied his words—but of course, she had forgotten! What had possessed him to say such things? But how could he look at her and not feel impelled to say something warm? It could not be his fault; it must be hers, for leading him on and for remembering every trivial word. And of that she was equally sure, for how could he do any man or any woman wrong, this sincere and honorable Christian gentleman?

In her imagination there was no one in a book or out of a book like Ralph Towne. Gus Hammerton was a scholar and a gentleman, but she had known him all her life; Felix Harrison was gracious and good, but he was not like Ralph Towne. Ralph Towne was not her ideal, he was something infinitely better than she could think; how beautiful it was to find some one nobler and grander than her ideal! Far away in some wonderful, unknown region he had grown up and had been made ready for her, and now he had come to meet her; bewildered and grateful, she had loved him and believed in him—almost as if that unknown region were heaven.

It was her wildest dream come true; that is, it had come true, until lately. Some strange thing was happening; it was happening and almost breaking her heart.

“Tessa, you look horrid nowadays,” exclaimed Dinah, one afternoon, as Tessa came up on the piazza, returning from her usual walk. “You are white, and purple, and all colors, and you never sing about the house or talk to me or to any body. You actually ran away while Mrs. Bird was over here yesterday, and you don’t even go to see Miss Jewett! She asked me yesterday if you had gone away. When Laura was talking to you yesterday, you looked as if you did not hear one word she said.”

“I was listening.”

“And you used to have such fun talking to Gus; I believe that you went up-stairs while he was here last night.”

“I had a headache; I excused myself.”

“You always go down the road. Why don’t you go through Dunellen?”

“I want to get into the country; I never walk through a street simply for the pleasure of it. I like to be alone.”

“Do you ever walk as far as Old Place?”

“That isn’t far, only three miles; sometimes I go to Mayfield, that is a mile beyond Old Place.”

“Isn’t Old Place splendid? Next to Mr. Gesner’s it is the handsomest place around.”

“It is more home-like than Mr. Gesner’s.”

“Sue likes Mr. Gesner’s better. I told her that I would take Old Place and she could have Mr. Gesner’s. Mr. Gesner’s is stone; Old Place is all wood. Do you ever see any of the Townes?”

“There are not many to be seen.”

“Counting Sue, there are three. Sue thinks that she is stylish, driving around with Mrs. Towne. She stayed a week with Miss Gesner once, too. Why don’t you and I get invited around to such places? Mrs. Towne ought to invite you. Mr. Towne used to come here often enough.”

“Used to come!” Tessa shivered standing in the sunlight. “Yes, it was ‘used to come,’” she was thinking. “I have been dreaming, now I am awake. I wish that I had died while I was dreaming.”

“Now you look pale again! I guess you are growing up,” laughed unconscious Dinah; “it’s hateful and horrid to grow up; I never shall. Remember that I am always to be fifteen.”

“I hope that you never will grow up,” said Tessa, earnestly, “every thing is just as bad as you can dream.”

“Mr. Towne has given Sue coral ear-rings,” Dinah ran on. Tessa had gone down to her flower-bed to pull a few weeds that had pushed themselves in among her pansies. “He gave his mother several groups in stone for the dining-room; they are all funny, Sue says. In one, some children are playing doctor; in another, they are playing school. He gave his cousin a silk dress, and he bought himself a set of books for his birthday; he was thirty-two. Did you think he was so old?”

“Yes.”

“I say, Tessa, Sue thinks that she is going to marry him.”

“Does she?” The voice was away down in the flowers.

“You are always among those flowers. Don’t you wish that we had a conservatory? They have a grand one at Old Place. I wonder why they have so little company.”

“Mrs. Towne is feeble; she likes a quiet house.”

“Yes, Sue says that. But Grace Geer, his cousin, is there! Mrs. Towne is to give Old Place and all its treasures to Mr. Towne upon his wedding-day; she wants a daughter more than any thing, Sue says. I wish she would take me. Sue thinks that she will take her. Every other word that she speaks is ‘Mr. Ralph.’ She talks about him everywhere. Do you believe it?”

“Believe what?”

Tessa had returned to the piazza with a bunch of pansies.

“Believe that she will marry him! She has real pretty manners when she is with them, and really tries not to talk slang. But I don’t believe it. He treats her as he would treat any one else; I have seen them together.”

“Perhaps she will. People say so,” said Tessa.

Poor motherless, sisterless Sue! Was she making a disappointment for herself out of nothing? Or was it out of a something like hers?

It was certainly true that Sue Greyson had taken a summer tour with Mrs. Towne and Mr. Ralph Towne, and that she had spent more of her time during the last year at Old Place than in her own small, unlovely home. She loved her father “well enough,” she would have told you; but after the months at Old Place, she found the cottage in Dunellen a stale and prosaic affair; her father had old Aunt Jane to keep house for him, why did he need her? He would have to do without her some day. Doctor Lake was great fun, why could he not be interested in him?

“He is a stranger, not my only daughter,” her father had once replied.

“Your father will be glad enough and proud enough that he let you come to Old Place,” comforted Grace Geer, when Sue told her that he missed her at home. “Ralph Towne’s wife will be a happy woman for more reasons than one; and he is interested in you, as one can see at a glance. He told his mother to-day that he should always be glad that they had come to Old Place.”

II.—THE SILENT SIDE.

It was nearly six weeks after the day that she had watched him as far as the clump of willows that he came again. Sue Greyson had driven him into Dunellen that morning and had stopped at the gate on her return to tell her about her “grand splendid, delightful times” at Old Place.

“Cousin Grace has gone away; how we miss her music! Mr. Ralph did not care for it, but Mrs. Towne and I cared. Mrs. Towne says that I ought to have a music teacher; but I never did practice when I had one. I can’t apply my mind to any thing; Mr. Ralph says that I learn by observation. I wonder why wise men choose silly wives always,” she added consciously, playing with the reins.

“Do they?” asked Tessa, picking a lilac leaf from the shrubbery.

“Is not this what we usually call the Indian summer?”
said Tessa, as she extended her hand.

“Cousin Grace says so. I wish I knew what ails Mr. Ralph. His