suspicions, her belief, which, of course, failed to convince the
biased man, who, rising, said: "Your mother confided and trusted in
her, so why should not you?"

The next moment Margaret was alone. For a long time she wept, and it
was not until the eastern horizon began to grow gray in the morning
twilight that she laid her head upon her pillow, and forgot in sleep
how unhappy she had been. Her words, however, were not without their
effect, for when the night came round on which her father was
accustomed to pay his weekly visit, he stayed at home, spending the
whole evening with his daughters, and appearing really gratified at
Margaret's efforts to entertain him. But, alas! the chain of the widow
was too firmly thrown around him for a daughter's hand alone to sever
the fast-bound links.

When the next Thursday evening came Mag was confined to her room by a
sick headache, from which she had been suffering all day. As night
approached she frequently asked if her father were below. At last the
front door opened, and she heard his step upon the piazza. Starting
up, she hurried to the window, while at the same moment Mr. Hamilton
paused, and raising his eyes saw the white face of his daughter
pressed against the window-pane as she looked imploringly after him;
but there was not enough of power in a single look to deter him, and,
wafting her a kiss, he turned away. Sadly Margaret watched him until
he disappeared down the long hill; then, returning to her couch, she
wept bitterly.

Meantime Mrs. Carter, who had been greatly chagrined at the
non-appearance of Mr. Hamilton the week before, was now confidently
expecting him. He had not yet asked her to be his wife, and the delay