"I am coming again in a day or two, to show you some plans for a new house which I intend to build before long. Clara differs with me about the arrangement of some columns and arches, and I shall claim you and Mrs. Murray for my allies in this architectural war." The orphan was silent, but the lady of the house replied promptly: "Yes, come as often as you can, Gordon, and cheer us up; for it is terribly dull here without St. Elmo." "Suppose you repudiate that incorrigible Vandal and adopt me in his place? I would prove a model son." "Very well. I shall acquaint him with your proposition, and threaten an immediate compliance with it if he does not come home soon." Mrs. Murray rang the bell for the servant to lock up the house, and said sutto voce: "What a noble fellow Gordon is! If I had a daughter I would select him for her husband. Where are you going, Edna?" "I left a MS. on the library table, and as it is very rare and valuable I want to replace it in the glass box where it belongs before I go to sleep." Lighting a candle, she lifted the heavy Targum, and slowly approached the suite of rooms, which she was now in the habit of visiting almost daily. Earlier in the day she had bolted the door, but left the key in the lock, expecting to bring the Targum back as soon as she had shown Mr. Leigh the controverted passage. Now, as she crossed the rotunda, an unexpected sound, as of a chair sliding on the marble floor, seemed to issue from the inner room, and she paused to listen. Under the flare of the candle the vindictive face of Siva, and the hooded viper twined about his arm, looked more hideous than ever, warning her not to approach, yet all was silent, save the tinkling of a bell far down in the park, where the sheep clustered under the cedars. Opening the door, which was ajar, she entered, held the light high over her head, and peered a little nervously around the room; but, here, too, all was quiet as the grave, and quite as dreary, and the only moving thing seemed her shadow, that flitted slightly as the candle-light flickered over the cold, gleaming white tiles. The carpets and curtains--even the rich silk hangings of the arch--were all packed away, and Edna shivered as she looked through both rooms, satisfied herself that she had mistaken the source of the sound, and opened the box where the MSS. were kept. At sight of them her mind reverted to the theme she had been investigating, and happening to remember the importance attached by ethnologists to the early Coptic inscriptions, she took from the book-shelves a volume containing copies of many of these characters, and drawings of the triumphal processions carved on granite, and representing the captives of various nations torn from their homes to swell the pompous retinue of some barbaric Rhamses or Sesostris.