He rode on at a quick pace, and I walked homeward forgetting the
sense of liberty I had started with, and proceeded straightway to
Aunt Eliza.

"I have not been to church, aunt, but to walk beyond the town;
it was not so nominated in the bond, but I went. The taste of
freedom was so pleasant that I warn you there is danger of my
'striking.' When will you have done with Newport?"

"I am pleased with Newport now," she answered, with a curious
intonation. "I like it."

"I do also."

Her keen eyes sparkled.
"Did you ever like anything when you were with me before?"

"Never. I will tell you why I like it: because I have met, and
shall probably meet, Mr. Uxbridge. I saw him to-day. He asked
permission to visit me."

"Let him come."

"He will come."

But we did not see him either at the hotel or when we went
abroad. Aunt Eliza rode with me each afternoon, and each morning we
went to the beach. She engaged me every moment when at home, and I
faithfully performed all my tasks. I clapped to the door on self-
investigation--locked it against any analysis or reasoning upon any