"Of course," remarked Mr. Corway, who, flushed with jealousy resented the allusion. "His lordship doubtless since his arrival in the country has been overwhelmed with offerings of the youth and beauty of America." "It seems to me that you are talking in mysteries," remarked Hazel. Mr. Corway moved toward her. "I appeal to the shrine of beauteous Hebe for vindication." "Ha! ha! ha! ha!" laughed the girl. "Wouldn't it be a surprise if the appeal should be negative?" "But the shrine of Hebe is not often invincible," rejoined Constance. "You must remember there is hope and there is perseverence--but this is irrelevant," and, turning to Mrs. Harris, continued: "Have you left Mr. Harris at Rosemont?" "Oh, no! James is out in the flower garden, discussing rose culture with Virginia." "Then I propose that we join them," said Mrs. Thorpe. "And I suggest a stroll through the lovely lawn, under the glory of Autumn foliage," added Rutley, who immediately turned and offered Constance his arm, and the two passed down the steps. Hazel and Corway were following Rutley, when John Thorpe attracted the girl's attention by quietly exclaiming: "Hazel!" She at once turned to Corway: "I shall be with you directly--uncle has something to say to me." As Mr. Corway and Mrs. Harris passed down the steps, John Thorpe and Hazel entered the house. "You have something to say to me, Uncle?" "Yes, Hazel," and as they passed into the drawing room he bit his lip in an endeavor to appear unperturbed. With a girl's intuition, she scented something unpleasant, and with a timid and startled look, she faltered: "What--is it Uncle?" "Hazel," he began, and his eyes rested on his beautiful niece--very beautiful just then, her eyes bright and clear and "peach-bloom" of health, the famed Oregon coloring so becoming to the sex, and as he looked at her he became suddenly conscious of a struggle raging in his breast. A struggle between doubt and confidence--but he stumbled on slowly--"I think--you show more--concern for--a--the company of Mr. Corway than prudence--I mean--Hazel!" At that moment Virginia pushed aside the portiere and silently stepped into the room. John Thorpe paused, for he saw the girl's face whiten, and her eyes look into his with an expression of wonderment, and then his heart seemed to leap to his throat, and choke him with a sense of shame at his implication. He put his arm gently about her, looked into the depths of her blue eyes, and said, kindly: "As you love the memory of your father and your mother, Hazel, beware that you do not make too free in the society of Corway. Let your conduct be hedged about with propriety"---- "Uncle!" she interrupted, drawing away from him like a startled fawn hit from ambush. Virginia saw her opportunity to sever the friendship between her brother and Corway.