“My dear,” he said gently, “I regret to say that another change has overtaken us.  Have you ever heard of ‘harlequin fate’?  ’Tis a very buffoon of mischief and irony that is often permitted to dog our earthly footsteps and prevent us from becoming too content with our lot.  For a time you and I, little maid, good comrades though we have been, must tread different paths.  Your mother and I are going away, presently, and we shall leave you here in Beverly, where you may continue your studies under the supervision of Miss Stearne, as a boarder at her school.  This house, although the rental is paid for six weeks longer, we shall at once vacate, leaving Uncle Eben and Aunt Sallie to put it in shape and close it properly.  Do you understand all this, Mary Louise?”

“I understand what you have told me, Gran’pa Jim.  But why—­”

“Miss Stearne will be supplied with ample funds to cover your tuition and to purchase any supplies you may need.  You will have nothing to worry about and so may devote all your energies to your studies.”

“But how long—–­”

“Trust me and your mother to watch over your welfare, for you are very dear to us, believe me,” he continued, disregarding her interruptions.  “Do you remember the address of the Conants, at Dorfield?”

“Of course.”

“Well, you may write to me, or to your mother, once a week, addressing the letter in care of Peter Conant.  But if you are questioned by anyone,” he added, gravely, “do not mention the address of the Conants or hint that I have gone to Dorfield.  Write your letters privately and unobserved, in your own room, and post them secretly, by your own hand, so that no one will be aware of the correspondence.  Your caution in this regard will be of great service to your mother and me.  Do you think you can follow these instructions?”

“To be sure I can, Gran’pa Jim.  But why must I—–­”

“Some day,” said he, “you will understand this seeming mystery and be able to smile at your present perplexities.  There is nothing to fear, my dear child, and nothing that need cause you undue anxiety.  Keep a brave heart and, whatever happens, have faith in Gran’pa Jim.  Your mother—­as good a woman as God ever made—­believes in me, and she knows all.  Can you accept her judgment, Mary Louise?  Can you steadfastly ignore any aspersions that may be cast upon my good name?”

“Yes, Gran’pa Jim.”

She had not the faintest idea what he referred to.  Not until afterward was she able to piece these strange remarks together and make sense of them.  Just now the girl was most impressed by the fact that her mother and grandfather were going away and would leave her as a boarder with Miss Stearne.  The delightful home life, wherein she had passed the happiest two years of her existence, was to be broken up for good and all.

“Now I must go to your mother.  Kiss me, my dear!”

As he rose to his feet Mary Louise also sprang from her chair and the Colonel folded his arms around her and for a moment held her tight in his embrace.  Then he slowly released her, holding the girl at arms’ length while he studied her troubled face with grave intensity.  One kiss upon her upturned forehead and the old man swung around and left the room without another word.