“I know it is,” sighed he, while through the keyhole of the opposite door came something which sounded very much like a stifled laugh!  It was the hour of Ernest Hamilton’s temptation, and but for the remembrance of the sad, white face which had gazed so sorrowfully at him from the window he had fallen.  But Maggie’s presence seemed with him—­her voice whispered in his ear, “Don’t do it, father, don’t”—­and he calmly answered that it would be a good match.  But he could not, no he could not advise her to marry him; so he qualified what he had said by asking her not to be in a hurry—­to wait awhile.  The laugh through the keyhole was changed to a hiss, which Mrs. Carter said must be the wind, although there was not enough stirring to move the rose bushes which grew by the doorstep!

So much was Mr. Hamilton held in thrall by the widow that on his way home he hardly knew whether to be glad or sorry that he had not proposed.  If Judge B——­ would marry her she surely was good enough for him.  Anon, too, he recalled her hesitation about confessing that the judge was indifferent to her.  Jealousy crept in and completed what flattery and intrigue had commenced.  One week from that night Ernest Hamilton and Luella Carter were engaged, but for appearance’s sake their marriage was not to take place until the ensuing autumn.

CHAPTER VI.

RAISING THE WIND.

“Where are you going now?” asked Mrs. Carter of her daughter, as she saw her preparing to go out one afternoon, a few weeks after the engagement.

“Going to raise the wind,” was the answer.

“Going to what?” exclaimed Mrs. Carter.

“To raise the wind!  Are you deaf?” yelled Lenora.

“Raise the wind!” repeated Mrs. Carter; “what do you mean?”

“Mean what I say,” said Lenora; and closing the door after her she left her mother to wonder “what fresh mischief the little torment was at.”

But she was only going to make a friendly call on Margaret and Carrie, the latter of whom she had heard was sick.

“Is Miss Hamilton at home?” asked she of the servant girl who answered her ring, and whom she had never seen before.

“Yes, ma’am; walk in the parlor.  What name shall I give her if you please?”

“Miss Carter—­Lenora Carter;” and the servant girl departed, repeating to herself all the way up the stairs, “Miss Carther—­Lenora Carther!”

“Lenora Carter want to see me!” exclaimed Mag, who, together with Kate Kirby, was in her sister’s room.

“Yes, ma’am; an’ sure ‘twas Miss Hampleton she was wishin’ to see,” said the Irish girl.

“Well, I shall not go down,” answered Mag.  “Tell her, Rachel, that I am otherwise engaged.”

“Oh, Maggie,” said Carrie, “why not see her?  I would if I were you.”

“Rachel can ask her up here if you wish it,” answered Mag, “but I shall leave the room.”