"Humph! I am sorry to find you endorsing my opinion," replied Mrs. Drummond, thoughtfully. "I hoped you would say it was my fancy. He has not said anything to you that makes you uneasy?" with a touch of her old sharpness, remembering that Grace, and not she, was Archie's confidante; but Grace replied so quickly and decidedly, "Oh, no, mother; we have not exchanged a word together since he and Mattie arrived," that her maternal jealousy was allayed. But the next night, when she was alone with him for a few minutes, she was struck afresh by the gravity of his look as he sat by the window, pretending to read, but for the last half-hour he had not turned his page. "A penny for your thoughts, my son!" she said, so archly and abruptly that Archie started, and his brow grew crimson at finding himself watched. "Oh, they were nothing particular," he stammered; and then he said something about the fineness of the evening, and the possibility of his father coming in in time for a long walk. But Mrs. Drummond was not to be put off so easily. She left her seat, where she had been sewing as usual, and came and stood beside him a moment. He would have jumped up and given her his own chair, but she pressed his shoulder gently, as though to forbid the movement. "I like to stand, Archie. Yes, it is a lovely evening; but I think you ought to ask Grace, and not your father, to accompany you. Grace was always your companion, you know, and you must not drop old habits too suddenly." Then Archie saw that his avoidance of Grace had been marked. "Very well, I will ask her," he returned; but he showed none of his old alacrity and spirit in claiming his favorite. Mrs. Drummond noticed this; and the shade of anxiety on her face grew deeper. "Archie, you are not quite your old self with Grace; and I am sure she feels it. What has come between you, my dear?" "Why, nothing, mother;" and here he attempted a laugh. "Grace and I never quarrel, as you know." "I was not speaking of quarrelling," she returned, in a graver voice; "but you do not seek her out as you used. Before, when you arrived, you always disappointed me by shutting yourself up in the school-room, where no one could get at you; and now Grace tells me she has not had a word with you these four days." "Has Grace complained of me, then?" "You know Grace never complains of you. It was not said in any fault-finding way. We agreed you were not quite yourself, or in your usual spirits; and I asked her the reason. Tell me, my son, is there anything troubling you?" Archie sat silent. Mrs. Drummond was so rarely demonstrative to her children that even this well-beloved son had never heard before such chords of tenderness in his mother's voice; and, looking up, he saw that her keen gray eyes were softened and moist with tears. "You are not quite yourself, Archie,--not quite happy?" she went on. Then he took counsel with himself; and after a moment he answered her: