Having finished her meal, Mrs. Travilla threw a shawl about her shoulders and stepped out upon the veranda; then, tempted by the beauty of the night, walked down the avenue to meet her son or see if there were any signs of his approach.

She had not gone half the distance ere the sound of horses’ hoofs reached her ear—­distant at first but coming rapidly nearer, till a lady and gentleman drew rein at the gate, while the servant who had been riding in the rear dismounted and threw it open.

They came dashing up, but paused and drew rein again at sight of the old lady standing there under the trees.

“Mother,” cried her son, springing from the saddle, “you were not alarmed? anxious? surely.”

“No, no, Edward, but glad to see you and Elsie! my dear child, this is very kind.”

“Not at all, dear Mrs. Travilla; it is so lovely an evening for a ride; or walk either,” she added, giving her hand to her escort and springing lightly to the ground.

Mr. Travilla put the hand into that of his mother.  “Take her to your heart, mother; she is mine—­ours!” he said, in low tones tremulous with joy.

The old lady folded the slight girlish form to her breast for a moment, with a silence more eloquent than words.

“Thank God! thank God!” she murmured at length.  “He has given me my heart’s desire;” and mingled caresses and tears fell upon Elsie’s face.  “For many years I have loved you as my own child, and now I am to have you.  How bright our home will be, Edward.  But we are darkening another.  Her father; can he—­has he——­”

“He has given her to me,” answered the son quickly, “and she has—­we have given ourselves to each other.  Let me give an arm to each of you and we will go into the house.”

* * * * *

The veranda at the Oaks was deserted, and the house very quiet, though lights still shone here and there, as Mr. Travilla and Elsie rode up and dismounted on their return from Ion.

A servant rose from the grass, where he had been lying at his ease; came forward and led away his young mistress’s pony, while the lover bade her a tender good-night, sprang into the saddle again, and presently disappeared, lost to view amid the trees and the windings of the road, though the sound of horse’s hoofs still came faintly to Elsie’s ear as she stood intently listening, a sweet smile irradiating every feature.

Absorbed in her own thoughts, and in the effort to catch those fast-retreating sounds, she did not hear a step approaching from behind; but an arm encircled her waist, and a low-breathed “My darling” woke her from her reverie.

She looked up, her eyes beaming with affection; “Papa; I am rather late, am I not?”

“Not very.  Hark! the clock is but just striking ten.  Come, let us sit down here for a little.  We have hardly had a chat together to-day.”  He sighed slightly as he drew her closer to him.