The tableau lasted only a moment; for Aimée, seeing the face over Mrs. Shreve’s shoulder, uttered an exclamation of surprise, in which pleasure evidently bore no part. “Percy,” she cried, “is it you?” “Yes, it is I,” answered the young man, coming forward as Mrs. Shreve moved aside. He cast a look of angry suspicion at Kyrle, then, taking Aimée’s hand--which she made no movement to offer--bent and kissed her cheek: “You did not expect to see me,” he said. “No; why should I?” she answered, blushing so furiously that it was evident his salute was not a customary matter. “Why have you come?” “To see you--and to take you home,” he answered, with another suspicious glance at Kyrle. This the latter returned with one of coldly careless scrutiny, and then held out his hand to Aimée. “I will not intrude longer,” he said. “You will wish me _bon voyage_? I am leaving St. Augustine immediately.” “Oh, yes,” answered Aimée, eagerly. “I wish you _bon voyage_ with all my heart, and I shall not forget--” She paused abruptly--remembering that she must not say, “I shall not forget to give your message to Fanny”--and of course the sudden pause and blush which accompanied it could bear but one interpretation to the looker-on. “I shall not forget your kindness,” said Kyrle, conscious of the false position in which she was placed, and angry at his inability to right it. But, fearing to do harm and complicate matters further by any attempt in that direction, he felt that the best thing he could do was to go. So with a parting bow he left the room, hearing, as he went, an angry voice saying: “Who is that man, Aimée?--and what is the meaning of this?” VII. Aimée looked straightly and bravely into the questioner’s face. “That,” she said, quietly, “is Mr. Kyrle. You do not know him, so we need not discuss his visit. Tell me why you have come for me. Is mamma ill?” “No,” answered the young man, whose sufficiently good-looking countenance was very much disfigured by the frown with which he was regarding her; “she is very well, but it is necessary that you should go home at once. And I did not come a day too soon, if _this_ is how you are engaged.” “What do you mean by _this_?” asked Aimée, indignantly--Mrs. Shreve having withdrawn in search of Mrs. Berrien. “I do not know why you should speak to me in such a manner because you find a visitor--” “A visitor!” interrupted the other, angrily. “Do your visitors usually leave such cards as that?” He pointed, as he spoke, to the locket which Aimée had forgotten that she still held in her hand. She now thrust it hastily into her pocket; but, though her face crimsoned, she still regarded him with dauntless eyes. “It is no affair of yours,” she said. “I am not called upon to give you any explanation. I am here under Aunt Alice’s care.” “An admirable care it seems to be,” said he, sarcastically. “It is fortunate that I have come to take you out of her hands.”