Frances stood astounded at the sudden anger in his face as he turned on his heel and strode away, leaving her in the cold, dusky room alone.

When she went across the hall and into "the chamber" he was gone by the other way; Mrs. Randall and her father were deep in a discussion of his affairs, farm and household. Frances was left to her own reflections; they held a vague feeling of having stumbled somewhere and failed to measure to a greatness. She was quiet for the rest of their visit, beyond the custom of that cheerful young woman. As there was more time for thought she became conscience-stricken; she felt she knew where she had offended, she had derided the home of which young Montague was so proud and that while a guest within it; she strove to make her peace, but he gave her no chance, until[Pg 125] they waited on the steps in the moonlight for the trap.

Mrs. Randall was down on the walk, the professor was looking anxiously to Starlight's harness; Frances had lingered purposely.

The road home was rough, ruts and steep hills darkened by thick woods. Mr. Holloway was looking carefully to the fastenings of Starlight's harness, unwilling to trust too much to the hands of the boy who had brought him to the door. Mrs. Randall waited near him, Frances lingered purposely on the broad high steps of the porch.

The moonlight flooded the world; its white light gleamed on the drive about the circle where the tangled shrubbery cast weird shadowings; the dusk under the trees on the further lawn lay heavy and black; far-off loomed the oaks above the graves of those who had lived and died in the old house on whose steps they stood. The air of the autumn night was chill and still, save for the restless movements of Starlight. With the shadowed, unreal face of the night a feeling of awe touched Frances. She made[Pg 126] a step nearer to the young man standing by her, his tall figure towering above her, his fair face shadowed by his big soft hat.

"We have had a lovely visit," she said softly.

"I am glad."

"And it's such a beautiful old place—beautiful; you must trim up your roses and—"

"I know nothing of flowers," coldly.

"But I do; I will show you when we come again."

There was no answer, and the young woman began to realize this was not a case for cajolery, but for open candid speech.

"You must think me very, very—" she could not bring herself to say "flippant" no matter what self-accusation said. "You know I was only jesting, and we have thoroughly enjoyed our visit. I want to come again if you wish us," plainly throwing herself on his mercy and bidding for kind speech.

"If I wish you—" began the young man hurriedly.

[Pg 127]

"We will come and show you about the flowers in the spring," briskly.

"The spring!"

"Frances," called her father.

"You are not angry?" she questioned quickly and softly, as they went down the steps.

"No!" was all he said, yet Frances was quite satisfied with his friendliness as he put them in the trap and tucked the robes about them.

"Mind the old hill," he cautioned her father; "there's a new road through the wood to the left now—"

"I remember."

"And a tree is cut down across the old way; but it's dark in there and you might get into it."

"No danger!" assured the professor; "but Edward," as if in sudden remembrance, "there's another danger in the road to town—the freshet."

"Freshet?"

"Has no one cautioned you? The streams flood the country after a heavy rain. The[Pg 128] one below the big hill is especially dangerous. Don't forget it when the heavy rains set in, and don't be venturesome; there have been some dreadful accidents there."

"I had not heard," said Edward carelessly.

"Then you had better heed," declared the professor sententiously, as he stepped into the vehicle, "and when the water is out over the bridge, stay on the side you happen to be caught on."

"I'll remember, thank you."

"All right! Good night! When are you coming in?"

"Not for a day or two," owned the young man reluctantly, as he stood, his hand still on the wheel; "there's the ploughing for spring wheat."

"It's time that was done!"

"But I have had so much else."

"Yes, yes." Starlight was twisting restlessly across the drive from one side to the other. "Good night, we've enjoyed it immensely."

"Good night!" called the women, and they left him there in the circling drive, the great[Pg 129] empty house looming behind him, a light in one window—the window of his own room. He went up the wide, high steps slowly. The evening had not been all he dreamed it might be, nor had it been a failure; and they were coming again. She had said she wished it.

He threw himself into the chair the professor had lounged in and began to live over again the hours of her visit, leaving out the bitter and hugging to his memory the sweet. He recalled her supple figure, her gay words as they wandered about the old place; he remembered their tour of the house and reddened at the thought of his rudeness. It was only a careless speech, she could not have known how it jarred upon other deeper feelings. He recalled with a wave of tenderness, the subdued young woman of the evening, and smiled at the memory; it was a mood he had never seen before, and it won upon his heart; and dwelling on the thought of it, he began once more to dream what the old house would be were it full of life, to plan what could be done here and there,[Pg 130] without and within, for cheer and comfort and beautiful living.

It would be several days he had said, before he could come to town again; it was ten. The Sabbath had been promised to a neighbor back in the country. The ploughing took longer than he thought. A field which had been allowed to run to waste must be burned over; and while the weather held fair and windless, the undergrowth encroaching from the woodland must be cut and burned. The fodder was not yet stacked, and all the work was pressing upon him. Good hard work in the clear, pure air, sound sleep, and contented thoughts made the days speed by.

When the Sabbath, his holiday, came again, he was abroad in the red frosty dawn, hurrying from stable to breakfast and away. When he rode into town he still had time to go up to the University before the service. He left his horse at the stable and hastened up Main street. The town was yet quiet. On the bridge above the railroad he paused a second looking down at the station below.[Pg 131] A train was pulling out. The shriek of the locomotive echoed shrilly among the hills, the smoke hung in billowy clouds close about the smoke-stack, and the tops of the coaches gliding away were white and glistering with frost. Edward had a comfortable feeling of home and cheer as, standing there, he looked down and beyond on spires and housetops and chimney-............