It was a really splendid day within about a week of the Christmas holidays. No snow had fallen yet, nor were the trees of that latitude stripped of the glorious autumnal regalia. Enough bright leaves had fallen to carpet the ground with a carpet more brilliant than the looms of Axminster or Brussels ever wove; but not enough to be missed from the royal robes of the forest. The glorious beauty of the autumn woods seen across the water, so attracted the young girl that she walked swiftly on towards Rogue’s Neck, never thinking whether it were high or low tide, only anxious to cross over and plunge into the depths of the grand forest. But when she came in sight of the Neck she found, to her disappointment, that the waves were dashing wildly over the whole length and breadth of it. It was high tide, and it would be six hours before the road would be passable again. She turned away and—met David, the young fisherman, face to face! Her disappointment was forgotten in an instant. Her eyes danced with joy. Here was some one, at least, of whom she was not afraid—in whom she could perfectly confide—who would never terrify, humiliate, or in any way wound her. “Oh! David Lindsay, I am so glad to see you!” she said, frankly, holding out her hand to him. He took it, bowed, and dropped it, all in silence. “Oh! David Lindsay, why haven’t you come to see your old playmate all this time? I have been home nearly three months, and you have not been to see me once, not once. You promised to come the day after my arrival to take me to see your grandmother. Well, I know it rained that day, and for a week afterwards, and you didn’t come because you knew I could not go out in such weather. But there has been very fine weather since then, yet you have never come to see your old playmate, never once—and such friends as we used to be! I take it very unkind of you, David Lindsay, that I do!” she said, with an air of injury that she really felt. “Miss de la Vera,” gravely replied the young man, as soon as the cessation of her scolding little tongue gave him the chance, “I have been to see you many times within the last three months, but you have always been denied to me.” “Eh!” exclaimed Gloria, opening her eyes wide with incredulous astonishment. “I beg to repeat that I have come many times to pay my respects, but have always been denied the privilege.” “Now, who has dared to do that? Who has dared to profane my freedom in that manner? David Lindsay, I never knew of your coming or I would have seen you. Now tell me all about it,” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling, and her cheeks burning with the sense of wrong and outrage, as she turned about to continue her walk. He also turned and went beside her, as he answered: