He came quite unexpectedly--at least to May--one October afternoon, when the three ladies were sitting together in the stately, old-fashioned garden of the Hall. The leaves were floating downward from the trees, but the air was scarcely chill. It was like a summer day, yet the tints and hues of the fading year were stamped on flower and leaf. And somehow May was thinking of this, of the change which comes to every living thing, when the sound of a firm step on the gravel behind the seat where she was sitting, made her raise her head and look around. And the two sisters did the same thing, at the same instant, and then started to their feet. "Ralph!" they both cried, and hastily went forward to meet their nephew with outstretched hands. But May only rose; a strange nervousness came over her; seeing Ralph Webster again recalled so much. "Will you pardon my intrusion?" he asked a moment later, as he took her hand in his. "Of course--I--I am very glad--" she faltered in reply. "As my aunts have entirely forsaken me," went on Webster with a smile, "I thought I might venture to look them up." "We have often talked of you, my dear," said kind Miss Webster. "Yes, my dear, often," sighed Miss Eliza. "I--am afraid I have been very selfish, but I would not let them leave me," continued May, with more self-possession. "I am very glad to see you here, Mr. Webster." "Thank you very much." As he said these simple words he raised his eyes and looked in her fair face, and it seemed more fair to him even than he had thought it was. "I have often thought of coming," he said, in a low tone; and a faint blush stole to May's cheeks as he spoke. "We had better go into the house now," she suggested, the next moment, looking at Miss Webster. "Mr. Webster will be tired with his journey." Thus they all returned to the Hall together, and the first awkwardness of the meeting was over. Ralph Webster stayed to dinner and remained all night, but when he proposed to leave the next morning, May asked him to spend another day with them. "Can you not spare us another day?" she said, smiling. Webster thought he could spare many, but he did not say this. He, however, accepted the invitation, and May and Aunt Eliza took him a long walk through the park, and as they trod the mossy paths somehow both May and Webster were very silent. But Aunt Eliza was unusually loquacious, and carried on the conversation with scarcely any assistance. "It seems almost like the delightful old days when May was with us at Pembridge Terrace, does it not, Ralph?" said the good lady at length, with a total absence of tact. "Yes," answered Webster, briefly; and for a moment his brow clouded.