circumstance connected with Mr. Uxbridge. The only piece of
treachery to my code that I was guilty of was the putting of the
leaf which I brought home on Sunday between the leaves of that poem
whose motto is,

"Mariana in the moated grange."

On Saturday morning, nearly a week after I saw him on my walk,
Aunt Eliza proposed that we should go to Turo Street on a shopping
excursion; she wanted a cap, and various articles besides. As we
went into a large shop I saw Mr. Uxbridge at a counter buying
gloves; her quick eye caught sight of him, and she edged away,
saying she would look at some goods on the other side; I might wait
where I was. As he turned to go out he saw me and stopped.

"I have been in New York since I saw you," he said. "Mr. Lemorne
sent for me."

"There is my aunt," I said.

He shrugged his shoulders.

"I shall not go away soon again," he remarked. "I missed Newport
greatly."

I made some foolish reply, and kept my eyes on Aunt Eliza, who
dawdled unaccountably. He appeared amused, and after a little talk
went away.

Aunt Eliza's purchase was a rose-colored moire antique, which she