not be so philosophic as her mother.  She would grasp at every chance to excuse the deed.  He cried out against his scheming sister in an agony, and while he did so, encountered Miss Carrington and Miss.  Bonner in deep converse.  Juliana pinched her arm, whereupon Miss Carrington said:  ‘You look merry this morning, Mr. Harrington’:  for he was unawares smiling at the image of himself in the mirror of John Raikes.  That smile, transformed to a chuckling grimace, travelled to Rose before they met.

Why did she not come to him?

A soft voice at his elbow made his blood stop.  It was Caroline.  She kissed him, answering his greeting:  ‘Is it good morning?’

‘Certainly,’ said he.  ’By the way, don’t forget that the coach leaves early.’

’My darling Evan! you make me so happy.  For it was really a mistaken sense of honour.  For what can at all excuse a falsehood, you know, Evan!’

Caroline took his arm, and led him into the sun, watching his face at times.  Presently she said:  ’I want just to be assured that you thought more wisely than when you left us last night.’

‘More wisely?’ Evan turned to her with a playful smile.

‘My dear brother! you did not do what you said you would do?’

‘Have you ever known me not to do what I said I would do?’

’Evan!  Good heaven! you did it?  Then how can you remain here an instant?  Oh, no, no!—­say no, darling!’

‘Where is Louisa?’ he inquired.

’She is in her room.  She will never appear at breakfast, if she knows this.’

‘Perhaps more solitude would do her good,’ said Evan.

‘Remember, if this should prove true, think how you punish her!’

On that point Evan had his own opinion.

’Well, I shall never have to punish you in this way, my love, he said fondly, and Caroline dropped her eyelids.

‘Don’t think that I am blaming her,’ he added, trying to feel as honestly as he spoke.  ’I was mad to come here.  I see it all now.  Let us keep to our place.  We are all the same before God till we disgrace ourselves.’  Possibly with that sense of shame which some young people have who are not professors of sounding sentences, or affected by missionary zeal, when they venture to breathe the holy name, Evan blushed, and walked on humbly silent.  Caroline murmured:  ‘Yes, yes! oh, brother!’ and her figure drew to him as if for protection.  Pale, she looked up.

‘Shall you always love me, Evan?’

‘Whom else have I to love?’

‘But always—­always?  Under any circumstances?’

’More and more, dear.  I always have, and shall.  I look to you now.  I have no home but in your heart now.’

She was agitated, and he spoke warmly to calm her.

The throb of deep emotion rang in her rich voice.  ’I will live any life to be worthy of your love, Evan,’ and she wept.

To him they were words and tears without a history.