"Weeks!" "Yes, weeks. And when he does come, he is so cold and reserved that his presence chills me." "Cold and reserved to you!" Mary spoke with surprise. "And now, Mary," the maiden said, forcing down her feelings and speaking calmly, "have you any suspicion of the cause?" "As I live, none," was the earnest reply. "But I have." "Then tell me, freely, what you think," said the sister. "Either he is won by another, or—" "Won by another! Mary! He is not so base as that. You wrong my brother." "God grant that I do! But he is changed to me, that I know. He has ceased to love me as he did; that, too, I know. As to the cause, it matters not, perhaps. Enough that I am no longer loved." The face of the unhappy girl was pale, her eyes full of tears, and hear lips quivering. Mary Dunbar did not reply for some time; for she did not know what to say. At last she looked up from the floor, and was about speaking, when a servant came to the door of the chamber in which they were sitting, and said that Mr. Dunbar was in the parlor. "Know the cause this night, Mary," said the sister, rising. "Do not let him go without the fullest explanation of his changed manner towards you. I will retire; you need not mention that I was here." The two friends parted, one to go home to her father's house and there await her brother's return, to whom she meant to speak freely as soon as she could see him, and the other to meet her estranged lover. After parting with Mary Dunbar, Mary Lee spent nearly ten minutes in the effort to school her feelings so as to meet Dunbar without betraying the deep disturbance under which she was laboring. She then descended to the parlor. "How do you do, Mary?" the young man said, as she entered the room, rising, and advancing to meet her. He smiled and extended his hand; but his smile was cold, and his manner constrained. Mary was equally cold and restrained. She allowed him to take her hand, but without returning the slight pressure he gave. Dunbar made no allusion to the fact of his not having visited her for an unusually long space of time. "Have you been well, Mary?" he asked, in such a marked tone of indifference as caused a spot on the maiden's cheek suddenly to burn. "Well, I thank you," she said, formally. Their eyes met, and remained fixed for a moment, then both fell to the floor. "You do not look very well," remarked Dunbar, speaking with evident embarrassment. Mary uttered no reply. There was a silence of some moments; then she said, with some firmness of tone— "It is some time since you were here, Mr. Dunbar." "Yes," he replied, "it is. About four weeks I think." "A few months ago you did not allow so long a time to pass without seeing me." Mary's eyes were full upon him, and their glance firm and penetrating. "True," he replied. "I had more leisure on my hands then. But—"