"I don't know."

"Then you think, perhaps, it may be."

"It is very foolish to think so."

"Then you do think so," said Emily, archly.

"Oh, miss, I have found you out at last. What a sly one you are. I have been watching you a long time, and thought you all unconscious how it was with a certain party who shall be nameless. Oh I'm so glad."

"Glad that your brother is so unhappy?" Oh, Emily!

"No; glad that he need be so no longer."

"How do you mean?"

"How do I mean! Why how obtuse you are, Isabel."

"You run on too fast."

"Oh, not much. I found out how it was on his part long ago, and I shall not be long before I tell him the result of my observations elsewhere."

"Tell him what?" asked Isabel, aghast,

"To go in and win," replied Emily, saucily.

"Emily, Emily! what are you saying--what do you mean?"

"Mean?" replied Emily, with a saucy nod, "to help on my pet scheme a little, that's all."

"You never mean to say that you intend to--"

"Oh, but I do, though."

"Emily, if you dare!" cried Isabel, indignantly.

"Ah, but I shall."

"You shall not," said Isabel, grasping her arm, "you do not know what you are about."

"Yes I do, perfectly well, and you will both thank me hereafter."

"Stop a moment; what is it you intend to tell him?"

"Only what I have found out--that all is as he wishes, so he need not be afraid."

"You have not found out any such thing."

"Oh, have I not though?"

"Decidedly not. All you have discovered is, that I had some foolish idea that it might possibly be on my account that he was not coming home.

That is all you could honestly tell him, and you will do more harm than good if you do; depend upon it, you will only make matters worse by interfering."

"Well, if it is to do no good, I would rather that he did not know I had found out his secret, but keep it as I have done."

"Since when?" asked Isabel.

"Last spring, when we had to leave you on the rock, but of course I did not let him see it."

"Then do not enlighten him now, you will only make him uncomfortable."

"You are right, but come tell me since when did you know."

"I have known a long time."

"But does he think you know."

Isabel was silent.

"Come, miss, how did you find out?"

"Don't, Emily," said Isabel, entreatingly.

"How did you know--did he tell you?"

"Is this generous?" asked Isabel, with burning cheeks."

"You don't mean to say that you refused him?" said Emily, turning her blue eyes full upon Isabel, "that would be too cruel."

"Be quiet, Emily," implored Isabel.

"I see how it is now. Oh, Isabel, how could you?"

"Remember, Emily, I have told you nothing; you have found out my secret; keep it better than you did your brother's."

"Oh, Isabel, I am sure I kept that well enough."

"Not so well as you must keep this. I am very, very sorry, for I feel that I have not been sufficiently watchful, or you would I not have suspected it. And he would be justly angry if he knew."

"Well, under the circ.u.mstances it would make no difference to you if he was."

Isabel bit her lip and was silent, then said, "Emily, dear Emily, promise me that you will try to forget this conversation, and never mention it to any one."

"But Isabel when was it."

"I will answer no questions on that subject" more than enough has been said already.

"What a rage Grace would be in, if she knew, well, well, I have my own ideas."

"Have you indeed, and pray what would Grace be in a rage about if she knew," asked a well known voice close to them.