wish it would hurry."

He wished so, too, and with another fond good-by they parted. The day
seemed long to Rosamond, and, though she varied the time by trying on
each and every one of her new dresses, she was glad when it was night,
so she could go to bed and sleep the time away. The next morning the
depression of spirits was gone; he was coming--she should wait for him
beneath the sycamore--possibly she would hide to make him believe she
was not there, and the bright blushes stole over her dimpled cheeks as
she thought what he would do when he found that she _was_ there.

"Ten o'clock," she said to herself, as she heard the whistle of the
upward train. "Seven hours more and he will come."

Going to her room, she took a book, in which she tried to be
interested, succeeding so well that, though her windows commanded a
view of the avenue, she did not see the lady who came slowly up the
walk, casting about her eager, curious glances, and pausing more than
once to note the exceeding beauty of the place. Once she stopped for a
long time, and, leaning against a tree, seemed to be debating whether
to turn back or go on. Deciding upon the latter, she arose, and
quickening her movements, soon stood upon the threshold. Her ring was
answered by Maria, who betrayed no surprise, for from the upper hall
Mrs. Peters herself was closely inspecting the visitor.

"Is Mr. Browning at home?" the lady asked.

"Gone to Buffalo," was the laconic reply, and a gleam of satisfaction
flitted over the face of the questioner, who continued--"And the young
lady, Miss Leyton? Has she gone too?"