“I wonder, though, that Carrie allowed him to visit her,” said Agnes; “but then I believe she is under some obligations to him, and dare not refuse when he asked permission to come.”

If Agnes knew what these obligations were she did not tell, and grandmother, who, during the narration had knit with unwonted speed, making her needles rattle again, said, “It’s plain to me that Caroline let him come to make folks think she had got a city beau.”

“Quite likely,” returned Agnes; “Carrie is a sad flirt, but I think, at least, that she should not interfere with other people’s rights.”

Here my eye followed hers to Emma, who, I thought, was looking a little paler.  Just then Carrie and Ashmore came in, and the latter throwing himself upon the sofa by the side of Emma, took her hand caressingly, saying, “How are you to-night, my dear?”

“Quite well,” was her quiet reply, and soon after, under pretense of moving from the window, she took a seat across the room.  That night Mr. Ashmore accompanied Carrie and Agnes home, and it was at a much later hour than usual that old Rover first growled and then whined as he recognized our visitor.

The next morning Emma was suffering from a severe headache, which prevented her from appearing at breakfast.  Mr. Ashmore seemed somewhat disturbed, and made many anxious inquiries about her.  At dinner-time she was well enough to come, and the extreme kindness of Mr. Ashmore’s manner called a deep glow to her cheek.  After dinner, however, he departed for a walk, taking his accustomed road toward Captain Howard’s.

When I returned from school he was still absent, and as Emma was quite well, she asked me to accompany her to my favorite resort, the old rock beneath the grapevine.  We were soon there, and for a long time we sat watching the shadows as they came and went upon the bright green grass, and listening to the music of the brook, which seemed to me to sing more sadly than it was wont to do.

Suddenly our ears were arrested by the sound of voices, which we knew belonged to Mr. Ashmore and Carrie.  They were standing near us, just behind a clump of alders, and Carrie, in reply to something Mr. Ashmore had said, answered, “Oh, you can’t be in earnest, for you have only known me ten days, and beside that, what have you done with your pale, sick lady?”

Instantly I started up, clinching my fist in imitation of brother Billy when he was angry, but Cousin Emma’s arm was thrown convulsively around me, as drawing me closely to her side she whispered, “Keep quiet.”

I did keep quiet, and listened while Mr. Ashmore replied, “I entertain for Miss Rushton the highest esteem, for I know she possesses many excellent qualities.  Once I thought I loved her (how tightly Emma held me), but she has been sick a long time, and somehow I cannot marry an invalid.  Whether she ever gets well is doubtful, and even if she does, after having seen you, she can be nothing to me.  And yet I like her, and when I am alone with her I almost fancy I love her, but one look at your sparkling, healthy face drives her from my mind—­”