“It was so intended, Mr. Hayne; but my sister’s health requires speedy change.  She has been growing worse ever since we came, and she will not get well here.”

“And when do you go?” he asked, blankly.

“Just as soon as we can pack; though we may wait two or three days for a—­for a telegram.”

There was a complete break in the conversation for a full quarter of a minute,—­not such a long time in itself, but unconventionally long under such circumstances.  Then Mrs. Waldron suddenly and remarkably arose: 

“I’ll leave you to entertain Mr. Hayne a few moments, Nellie.  I am the slave of my cook, and she knows nothing of Mr. Hayne’s being here to tea with us:  so I must tell her and avert disaster.”

And with this barefaced—­statement on her lips and conscience, where it rested with equal lightness, that exemplary lady quitted the room.  In the sanctity of the connubial chamber that evening, some hours later, she thus explained her action to her silent spouse: 

“Right or wrong, I meant that those two young people should have a chance to know each other.  I have been convinced for three weeks that she is being forced into this New York match, and for the last week that she is wretchedly unhappy.  You say you believe him a wronged and injured man, only you can’t prove it, and you have said that nothing could be too good for him in this life as a reward for all his bravery and fortitude under fearful trials.  Then Nellie Travers isn’t too good for him, sweet as she is, and I don’t care who calls me a matchmaker.”

But with Mrs. Waldron away the two appeared to have made but halting progress towards friendship.  With all her outspoken pluck at school and at home, Miss Travers was strangely ill at ease and embarrassed now.  Mr. Hayne was the first to gain self-control and to endeavor to bring the conversation back to a natural channel.  It was a struggle; but he had grown accustomed to struggles.  He could not imagine that a girl whom he had met only once or twice should have for him anything more than the vaguest and most casual interest.  He well knew by this time how deep and vehement was the interest she had aroused in his heart; but it would never do to betray himself so soon.  He strove to interest her in reference to the music she would hear, and to learn from her where they were going.  This she answered.  They would go no farther East than St. Louis or Chicago.  They might go South as far as Nashville until mid-May.  As for the summer, it would depend on the captain and his leave of absence.  It was all vague and unsettled.  Mrs. Rayner was so wretched that her husband was convinced that she ought to leave for the States as soon as possible, and of course “she” must go with her.  All the gladness, brightness, vivacity he had seen and heard of as her marked characteristics seemed gone; and, yet, she wanted to speak with him,—­wanted to be with him.  What could be wrong? he asked himself.  It was not until Mrs. Waldron’s step was heard returning that she nerved herself to sudden, almost desperate, effort.  She startled him with her vehemence: