The brooding peace of Lakemere was left undisturbed by the lively heiress and Miss Sara Conyers, who had managed to have “sudden business” in the city during the formal visit of Senator Alynton. And so there was no one to see the proud man go forth with a man’s saddest burden in his heart. She loved another! No one of the obsequious attendants saw a graver shade than ordinary settle down upon the face of the statesman when he turned his stately head at the park gates in a last adieu to the graceful woman who stood with her earnest eyes following his departing form. “God bless her now and always!” the saddened suitor murmured, even in his heart’s sorrow. The noble simplicity of Alynton’s tender of his hand, the tribute laid at her feet of a choice between the honors of the Cabinet and a foreign place of splendid precedence—the manly words in which he told her of his grave solicitude for her happiness, and the real reasons for his past reticence, all had touched her heart with a womanly pride in this man’s honest love. “I could not tell him the whole truth, for the child’s sake; and, less than the whole truth, would be an outrage to his faith and a blot upon my womanhood.” Judge Endicott now followed her with mute accusing eyes, for he feared the ruin of his hopes. It was a week before Romaine Garland’s head sought her friend’s bosom. “Sara,” she whispered, “do you know that we sail next week? Your brother must come and say adieu, for it is more than she can bear. I have a secret to tell you. I need your help. I need his friendship. Only Hugh can help me with my mother, for this parting from Noel is almost death to me. She must know the truth, but how?” The elder woman raised the loving girl’s glowing face to her own and fondly kissed her trembling lips: “Ah! this is an easy task for you! I can guess your secret, darling,” Sara sadly said. “But, I am going away to share Hugh’s lot. “I do not sail to Europe with you. I have not yet told your dear mother. “For she will know it soon enough, and then over there, beyond the sea, you will live in new scenes, with other friends to share your happy hours. You will be soon called back—there, don’t deny it. “And your mother—who would not love her?” The blushing girl was seized with a sudden impulse, love’s chords were thrilling in her heart. It was on that very afternoon that Miss Romaine Garland drove resolutely to the station and indited a telegram which brought Hugh Conyers promptly to the door of Lakemere, as the setting sun was dropping behind the western hills of the Highlands. He feared the very worst; some sudden disaster. The mystified face of his loving sister at once undeceived the man whose heart had been so strangely stirred by Miss Mischief’s imperative dispatch. For, the Silent Knight had “reported for duty.” It was a lovingly set trap. “Nothing has really happened?” he asked, with a fear of some reserved news of unwelcome portent.