e；　as　the　laughing　girl　gave　him　this　information。　He　lifted　his　gaze；　too；　from　the　daisies；　and　turned　it　on　her。　An　unsmiling；　a　searching；　a　meaning　gaze　it　was。　She　answered　it　with　a　second　laugh；　and　laughter　well　became　her　youth；　her　roses；　her　dimples；　her　bright　eyes。

As　he　stood；　mute　and　grave；　she　again　fell　to　caressing　Carlo。　“Poor　Carlo　loves　me；”　said　she。　“He　is　not　stern　and　distant　to　his　friends；　and　if　he　could　speak；　he　would　not　be　silent。”

As　she　patted　the　dog’s　head；　bending　with　native　grace　before　his　young　and　austere　master；　I　saw　a　glow　rise　to　that　master’s　face。　I　saw　his　solemn　eye　melt　with　sudden　fire；　and　flicker　with　resistless　emotion。　Flushed　and　kindled　thus；　he　looked　nearly　as　beautiful　for　a　man　as　she　for　a　woman。　His　chest　heaved　once；　as　if　his　large　heart；　weary　of　despotic　constriction；　had　expanded；　despite　the　will；　and　made　a　vigorous　bound　for　the　attainment　of　liberty。　But　he　curbed　it；　I　think；　as　a　resolute　rider　would　curb　a　rearing　steed。　He　responded　neither　by　word　nor　movement　to　the　gentle　advances　made　him。

“Papa　says　you　never　e　to　see　us　now；”　continued　Miss　Oliver；　looking　up。　“You　are　quite　a　stranger　at　Vale　Hall。　He　is　alone　this　evening；　and　not　very　well：　will　you　return　with　me　and　visit　him？”

“It　is　not　a　seasonable　hour　to　intrude　on　Mr。　Oliver；”　answered　St。　John。

“Not　a　seasonable　hour！　But　I　declare　it　is。　It　is　just　the　hour　when　papa　most　wants　pany：　when　the　wo