"Do please, for you can't think how disagreeable it is, when Harry asks, when Everard is coming, to have to give the same stupid answer, I expect to hear every day." "I don't think you will." "Oh Isabel." "No, I do not think he will write, but just quietly walk in one of these days!" "Do you really think so," asked Emily, her face radiant. Isabel gave an affirmative nod. "What makes you think so, Isabel?" "I don't know, but I feel sure he will," she replied, turning away her face. "Isabel." "Well, dear," said Isabel, with heightening color, still keeping her face turned away, "tell me, was it because of you that Everard would not come home." "I don't know." "Then you think, perhaps, it may be." "It is very foolish to think so." "Then you do think so," said Emily, archly. "Oh, miss, I have found you out at last. What a sly one you are. I have been watching you a long time, and thought you all unconscious how it was with a certain party who shall be nameless. Oh I'm so glad." "Glad that your brother is so unhappy?" Oh, Emily! "No; glad that he need be so no longer." "How do you mean?" "How do I mean! Why how obtuse you are, Isabel." "You run on too fast." "Oh, not much. I found out how it was on his part long ago, and I shall not be long before I tell him the result of my observations elsewhere." "Tell him what?" asked Isabel, aghast, "To go in and win," replied Emily, saucily. "Emily, Emily! what are you saying--what do you mean?" "Mean?" replied Emily, with a saucy nod, "to help on my pet scheme a little, that's all." "You never mean to say that you intend to--" "Oh, but I do, though." "Emily, if you dare!" cried Isabel, indignantly. "Ah, but I shall." "You shall not," said Isabel, grasping her arm, "you do not know what you are about." "Yes I do, perfectly well, and you will both thank me hereafter." "Stop a moment; what is it you intend to tell him?" "Only what I have found out--that all is as he wishes, so he need not be afraid." "You have not found out any such thing." "Oh, have I not though?" "Decidedly not. All you have discovered is, that I had some foolish idea that it might possibly be on my account that he was not coming home. That is all you could honestly tell him, and you will do more harm than good if you do; depend upon it, you will only make matters worse by interfering." "Well, if it is to do no good, I would rather that he did not know I had found out his secret, but keep it as I have done." "Since when?" asked Isabel. "Last spring, when we had to leave you on the rock, but of course I did not let him see it." "Then do not enlighten him now, you will only make him uncomfortable." "You are right, but come tell me since when did you know." "I have known a long time." "But does he think you know." Isabel was silent. "Come, miss, how did you find out?" "Don't, Emily," said Isabel, entreatingly. "How did you know--did he tell you?"