"A life in her hands!" There came to her, young as she was, a vague idea
of woman's power for good or for evil. A cruel or cold word from her,
and the artist would go in his misery only to seek death in some far-off
land. A kind word, and he would remain--his genius would have its sway,
and he would paint pictures that the world should glory in.

"I have arranged it all," said Miss Lyster. "Miss Carleton is going
to-day to that grand dinner-party at Macdonald's. She has given orders
that the young ladies shall go over to Herrington, and take some
refreshments with them--it will be a picnic on a small scale. You can
excuse yourself from going. I will volunteer to remain with you, and
toward sunset, we will walk through the old orchard. Allan will await us
there."

The girl's heart beat; it was a romantic dream after all--that strange,
wonderful reality; the interview she had so often imagined was to take
place at last.

"I cannot tell an untruth," she said to Miss Lyster; "I could not if I
tried. How could I excuse myself from going?"

Adelaide looked slightly shocked.

"I would not ask you to speak untruthfully, not even to save Allan's
life, dearly as I love him," she said. "There is no need. Say you are
not inclined to go. Miss Carleton will not interfere with the whims of
an heiress."

So it was arranged, and everything fell out just as Adelaide Lyster had
foreseen. Miss Carleton did not care to interfere with the whims of a