"But not now. Mr. Deane is an old friend, a playmate even."

"I suppose he is a King's man?"

"Ask him; he is still standing at the gate. I talk to him on much pleasanter subjects."

"Love, for instance?"

"Perhaps."

"How can you be so cruel, Maria?"

"It is Miss Semple's nature to be cruel."

The reproof snubbed him, and both were silent for some minutes; then the same kind of desultory fencing was renewed, and Maria felt the time to be long and the tension unendurable. She could have cried out with anger. Why had not Agnes let her go to the door with Harry? She had had no opportunity to bid him "good-bye"; and yet, even after Harry had gone, there Agnes stood at the gate, "watching for Uncle Neil, of course," thought Maria, "and no doubt she has a message for me; she might come and give it to me--very likely Harry is at the boat waiting for me--oh, dear! Why does she not come?"

With such thoughts urging her, the very attitude of Agnes was beyond endurance. She stood at the gate as still as if she was a part of it, and at length Maria could bear the delay no longer.

"I wish to speak to Agnes," she said, "will you permit me a moment?"

"Certainly," he answered with an air of offense. "I fear I am in the way of some one or something."

"Oh, no, no!" cried Maria, decisively. "I only want to make her come in. She says the night air is so unhealthy, and yet there she stands in it--bareheaded, too."

"It is an unusually warm evening."

"Yes, but you know there is the malaria. I shall bring her in a moment, you shall see how quickly I am obeyed."

In unison with these words, she rose in a hurry, and as she did so there came through the open window a little stone wrapped in white paper. If she had not moved, it would have fallen into her lap; as it was, it fell on the floor and almost at the feet of Macpherson. He lifted it, and went to the candle. It was a message, 

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