away. It was like a dream from which he had awakened, and Meriton was the
actual and the present.

He knew that he would meet Mary Campbell very soon, and he was not
indifferent to the meeting. He could not help glancing with complaisance
at the new evening suit he had brought with him; and looking a little
ruefully at his browned and hardened hands, and the tan of wind and
weather on his face. He hoped he would meet Mary before his father's
arrival; so that he could get accustomed to the situation before he had to
exhibit himself in it to those keen and critical observers, the servants.

He went early into the dining-room, and found Mary already there. She had
some ferns and roses in her hands, and was mingling them, for the
adornment of the dinner table. She put them down, and went to meet him
with a smile like sunshine. Her small, slender figure clothed in white
India mull had a peculiarly fragile appearance; but Allan watched her, as
she glided about the room filling the crystal vases, with a restful
content. He thought how intelligent her face is! How graceful her diction,
how charming her low, sweet voice!

The dinner was a kind of festival. Mac Roy made every one feel so, when he
served with careful and elaborate ceremonies the famous wine. Allan felt
almost pained by the significance given to his return. It roused the first
feeling of opposition in him. "I will not float with the current unless I
wish to do so," was his mental determination; "and I will not have it
supposed that my return home is a surrender of my inclinations."
Unfortunately John Campbell regarded it as such; and his desire was to
adequately show his appreciation of the concession. Before Allan had been
at home three days, he perceived that his father was restless and
impatient. He had watched and waited so long, he could not help feeling