But there were sharper eyes than Mary’s.  That night, as Windham strolled on the lawn alone, Dr. Saxon confronted him, grimly puffing at his pipe.  Then he said: 

“I thought you were an honest fellow.”

Windham leaned against a tree.

“I want to be,” he said feebly.

“Then you’ll have to look sharp,” the doctor retorted.  “You’d better go fishing with me up-country in the morning.”

He went, Mary making him promise to return in time for an excursion to Blackberry Island which he had helped her plan.  He got back the night before; and in the morning the party set out, some going round the shore by stage, and some in the boat down the bay.

Miss Maine went with those in the boat, and Windham went with Mary in the stage.  Both on the way and after their arrival, he stayed by her, and did all he could to be useful and amusing.

They lunched on a grassy bank, in the shade of a cliff, by a tumbling brook that streamed down from the rocks.  By and by Mary remarked that she would like to see where the little torrent came from, and Windham said he would try and find out for her.  He scrambled up, and soon passed out of sight among the bowlders.  He found some tough climbing, but kept on, and after a while traced the stream to a clear pool where a spring bubbled out of a rock wall in a cave-like chamber near the top.

As he reached its edge, he caught sight of the reflection in the pool of a woman’s white dress; and, glancing up, saw Agnes Maine standing a little above him, on a sort of natural pedestal, in a rude niche at one side.  She looked so like a statue that she smiled slightly at the confused thought of it which she saw for an instant in his face, but she turned grave then as their eyes met for a moment in a look of intimate recognition.  Then he turned his away, with a sudden terror at himself, and leaned back against the wall, white in the face.

She stepped down and passed by him.  He half put out his hand to stop her, but drew it back, and she partly turned at the gesture, but went on out of his sight.

He stood there for some time; then climbed down the rocks again, shaping his features into a careless form as he went, and came back to Mary with a forced smile on his face.  But he forgot what he had gone for, and looked confused when Mary asked him if he had found it.  And she commented: 

“Why, Philip, what has happened?  You look as if you had seen a ghost.”

“I have,” he answered.

Mary asked no more, except by her look.  Some one came and proposed a sail, and Windham eagerly agreed, and went out in the boat with Mary and others.

They sailed down the bay.  On the return the wind died away, and when they got back, the stage had gone with more than half the party, and Agnes Maine was not among those who were waiting.  They came on board, and the boat headed away for home.

After landing they had to walk across some fields.  When near the house, Mary missed something, and Windham went back for it.  He had to cross the road, and as he came near it the stage passed along, with its merry company laughing and singing.  They did not notice him among the trees, but he distinctly saw all who were in the open vehicle, and Miss Maine was not among them.