“I will never listen to any of Bel’s mad
projects again," was John Harvey's men
tal resolution as he stepped out upon the
platform of Sutton Station. “1 have
been away only a fortnight, and it seems
mi age since 1 bade her good-by at the
gate."
As lie approached the cottage his alien
lion was attracted by the figure of a gen
(lonian walking before him he was the
stranger who had spoken to the porters at
Sutton Station.
lie was several yards ahead of John
Harvey, not walking in the desultory, pur
poseless manner of a stranger, but like
one who. having au object to accomplish,
was already in view of the goal for its at
tainment.
“A fine fellow!" was John's soliloquy.
“But I wonder who he is and where he is
going.”
Almost in answer to the query, the
stranger pushed upon the gate of the
Home cottage, and. entering, closed it af
ter him.
In a few seconds more John Harvev
gained the gate and, pausing outside,
looked once more on the dear familiar
scene.
The fine old chestnut spread out its
branches in the sunlight, and yielded the
same cool shelter under its leaves which
it had yielded a fortnight ago, but Clara's
coach was no longer there. Only the
small, rustic table and wide garden seat
were there, and on a low chair beside the
table, her face buried on her crossed arms
was Bel Urmson.
The stranger had walked silently and
unnoticed across the greensward, and.
standing within a few yards of her. was
attentively regarding her.
The girl raised her head and looked at
him. then, grasping the back of her chair
slowly rose to her feet.
