He could hardly keep his eyes off her, she was so fair a picture; but once or twice she had looked up and caught his glance, flushed, and fearing to embarrass her, he turned resolutely to his host and opened a subject upon which he had been thinking quite, seriously.

“I understood you to say last evening, I believe, sir, that you were desirous of disposing of your claim,” he remarked.

“Yes; my health is too poor to admit of my working it any longer, and I should be glad to dispose of it to the right person,” Mr. Abbot replied.

“I think I know of some one who would like it, if it is still a promising one,” the young man said, but a conscious color flushed his cheek slightly as he felt Virgie’s eyes turned upon him.

“I honestly believe that it is richer to-day than when I began to work it,” Mr. Abbot asserted confidently.  “However,” he added, “I do not ask you to take my word for it.  If you know a party who would like to purchase, tell him to bring an expert and examine for himself; and even then if he is not satisfied to buy outright, he may work it upon shares until he is convinced of its value.”

“That is fair, I am sure,” said Mr. Heath.

“Perhaps you would like to take a look at it before you go?” suggested his host, who was eager to dispose of his property.

“I would, I assure you,” was the reply; “but there is hardly time this morning, for I feel that I must join my party immediately, else they will be anxious regarding my safety.  We are bound upon an excursion through the northern portion of the State, and intend to be absent a week or more; but after that, if you will permit me, I will return here and investigate matters—­that is, if you will give me the refusal of the claim until then.”

As the young man said this, his glance involuntarily wandered again to the beautiful face of Virgie.

There must have been something magnetic in his gaze, for she raised her white lids just then, and met the earnest, wistful look bent upon her.

A flush leaped to her cheek, and her violet eyes dropped instantly upon her plate again, while her heart fluttered like a caged wild bird.

“I will gladly wait your time, Mr. Heath,” Mr. Abbot responded, in a satisfied tone.  “I begin to think that your losing your way and falling to our care last evening was providential.”

“I have no doubt of it, sir,” was the grave and reverent reply.  “I believe that all our ways are ordered for us; that everything is arranged for us by an All-wise Power.”

Something very like a sneer curled the almost colorless lips of his host at this unexpected assertion.

Mr. Abbot was no believer in the individuality of God, and had spoken both lightly and at random when he had referred to the young man’s visit as being providential.

“What do you mean by an All-wise Power?” he asked, skeptically.

“I mean God, sir.”