the breakfast-bell rang; and, instead of going into the library, she
passed on directly to the dining-room, and, as the other two entered a
moment later, gave Miss Deane a cold "Good-morning," and Edward a half
reproachful, half pleading look, which he, however, returned with one so
kind and re-assuring that she immediately recovered her spirits, and was
able to do the honors of the table with ease and grace.

Coming upon her in that room alone, an hour later, just as she had
dismissed Aunt Dicey with her orders for the day, "Little wife," he
said, bending down to give her the coveted caress, "I owe you an
explanation."

"No, Ned, dear, I don't ask it of you: I know it is all right," she
answered, flushing with happiness, and her eyes smiling up into his.

"Still, I think it best to explain," he said. "I had finished attending
to the little matters I spoke of,--writing a note, and giving some
directions to Uncle Ben,--and was on my way back to our apartments, when
Miss Deane met me on the stairway, and asked if I would go into the
library with her, and help her to look up a certain passage in one of
Shakspeare's plays, which she wished to quote in a letter she was
writing. She was anxious to have it perfectly correct, she said, and
would be extremely obliged for my assistance in finding it."

"And you could not in politeness refuse. I know that, Ned, and please
don't think me jealous."

"I know, dear, that you try not to be; and it shall be my care to avoid
giving you the least occasion. And I do again earnestly assure you, you
need have no fear that the first place in my heart will not always be