“Ah!  Miss Markland, I’ve been looking for you.”

It was Mr. Willet.  The stranger moved away as the other approached, yet remained near enough to observe them.  Fanny made no response.

“There is a bit of moonlight scenery that is very beautiful,” said Mr. Willet.  “Come with me to the other side of the house.”

And he offered his arm, through which Fanny drew hers without hesitation.  They stepped from the piazza, and passed in among the fragrant shrubbery, following one of the garden walks, until they were in view of the scene to which Mr. Willet referred.  A heavy bank of clouds had fallen in the east, and the moon was just struggling through the upper, broken edges, along which her gleaming silver lay in fringes, broad belts, and fleecy masses, giving to the dark vapours below a deeper blackness.  Above all this, the sky was intensely blue, and the stars shone down with a sharp, diamond-like lustre.  Beneath the bank of clouds, yet far enough in the foreground of this picture to partly emerge from obscurity, stood, on an eminence, a white marble building, with columns of porticos, like a Grecian temple.  Projected against the dark background were its classic outlines, looking more like a vision of the days of Pericles than a modern verity.

“Only once before have I seen it thus,” said Mr. Willet, after his companion had gazed for some time upon the scene without speaking, “and ever since, it has been a picture in my memory.”

“How singularly beautiful!” Fanny spoke with only a moderate degree of enthusiasm, and with something absent in her manner.  Mr. Willet turned to look into her face, but it lay too deeply in shadow.  For a short time they stood gazing at the clouds, the sky, and the snowy temple.  Then Mr. Willet passed on, with the maiden, threading the bordered garden walks, and lingering among the trees, until they came to one of the pleasant summer-houses, all the time seeking to awaken some interest in her mind.  She had answered all his remarks so briefly and in so absent a manner, that he was beginning to despair, when she said, almost abruptly—­

“Did you see the person who was with me on the portico, when you came out just now?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know him?”

“He’s a stranger to me,” said Mr. Willet; “and I do not even remember his name.  Mr. Ellis introduced him.”

“And you invited him to your house?”

“No, Miss Markland.  We invited Mr. and Mrs. Ellis, and they brought him as their friend.”

“Ah!” There was something of relief in her tone.

“But what of him?” said Mr. Willet.  “Why do you inquire about him so earnestly?”

Fanny made no answer.

“Did he in any way intrude upon you?” Mr. Willet spoke in a quicker voice.

“I have no complaint to make against him,” replied Fanny.  “And yet I ought to know who he is, and where he is from.”

“You shall know all you desire,” said her companion.  “I will obtain from Mr. Ellis full information in regard to him.”