Miss Rachel only glanced across her mufflers on his face. There was a
bright moonlight, broken by the shadows of overhanging boughs and
withered leaves; and the mottled lights and shadows glided oddly across
his pale features. But she saw that he was smiling his sly, sleepy smile,
and she said quietly--

'Well, Stanley, I ask no more--but you don't deceive me.'

'I don't try to. If your feelings indeed had been different, and that you
had not made such a point--you know--'

'Don't insult me, Stanley, by talking again as you did this morning. What
I say is altogether on your own account. Mark my words, you'll find him
too strong for you; aye, and too deep. I see very plainly that _he_
suspects you as I do. You saw it, too, for nothing of that kind escapes
you. Whatever you meditate, he probably anticipates it--you know
best--and you will find him prepared. You have given him time enough. You
were always the same, close, dark, and crooked, and wise in your own
conceit. I am very uneasy about it, whatever it is. _I_ can't help it. It
will happen--and most ominously I feel that you are courting a dreadful
retaliation, and that you will bring on yourself a great misfortune; but
it is quite vain, I know, speaking to you.'

'Really, Radie, you're enough to frighten a poor fellow; you won't mind a
word I say, and go on predicting all manner of mischief between me and
Wylder, the very nature of which I can't surmise. Would you dislike my
smoking a cigar, Radie?'

'Oh, no,' answered the young lady, with a little laugh and a heavy sigh,