After all, it was not probable that Mr. Murray had ever mentioned her name to his correspondent; and as she had not alluded to Le Bocage or its inmates in writing to Mr. Manning, St. Elmo's hints concerning her MS. were merely based on conjecture. She felt as if she would rather face any other disaster sooner than have him scoffing at her daring project; and more annoyed and puzzled than she chose to confess, she resolutely bent her thoughts upon her work. It was almost dusk before Mrs. Murray and her guests returned; and when it grew so dark that Edna could not see the lines of her paper, she smoothed her hair, changed her dress, and went down to the parlor. Mrs. Murray was resting in a corner of the sofa, fanning herself vigorously, and Mr. Allston smoked on the veranda, and talked to her through the open window. "Well, Edna, where have you been all day?" "With my books." "I am tired almost to death! This country visiting is an intolerable bore! I am worn out with small talk and back-biting. Society nowadays is composed of cannibals--infinitely more to be dreaded than the Fijians--who only devour the body and leave the character of an individual intact. Child, let us have some music by way of variety. Play that symphony of Beethoven that I heard you practicing last week." She laid her head on the arm of the sofa, and shut her eyes, and Edna opened the piano and played the piece designated. The delicacy of her touch enabled her to render it with peculiar pathos and power; and she played on and on, unmindful of Miss Harding's entrance--oblivious of everything but the sublime strains of the great master. The light streamed over her face, and showed a gladness, an exaltation of expression there, as if her soul had broken from its earthly moorings, and was making its way joyfully into the infinite sea of eternal love and blessedness. At last her fingers fell from the keys, and as she rose she saw Mr. Murray standing outside of the parlor door, with his fingers shading his eyes. He came in soon after, and his mother held out her hand, saying: "Here is a seat, my son. Have you just returned?" "No, I have been here some time." "How are affairs at the plantation?" "I really have no idea." "Why? I thought you went there to-day." "I started; but found my horse so lame that I went no further than town." "Indeed! Hagar told me you had not returned, when I came in from visiting." "Like some other people of my acquaintance, Hagar reckons without her host. I have been at home ever since twelve o'clock, and saw the carriage as you drove off." "And pray how have you employed yourself, you incorrigible ignis fatuus? O my cousin! you are well named. Aunt Ellen must have had an intuitive insight into your character when she had you christened St. Elmo; only she should have added the 'Fire--' How have you spent the day, sir?"