She could not go forward now, and while she stood trying to grow calm through her indignation and seeing that she must go home by the other road, which would take her quite a distance out of her way, scraps of the conversation that fell upon her ears found lodgment in her mind. The two seemed to be talking of some man now. Then all at once she heard Bulchester say: "It's the oddity that takes you;"--she had lost what went before--"that will soon wear off. But I'm glad enough you're not as wise as I, to prefer the other. What makes you so sure, though, that he has secured your--?" In some movement she lost the last word and the answer, unless it were merely a significant exclamation of belief. "You wouldn't stand upon the chances of change though," resumed Bulchester, "I know you well enough. But, according to you, there's the insuperable obstacle." Edmonson laughed contemptuously. "Insuperable?" he answered. "Stray shots have taken off more superfluous kings and men than the world knows of. And just now, with this prospect of war before the country, something is sure to happen,--to happen, Bulchester; luck has a passion for me, and after all her caprices, she is coming to--." Elizabeth lost the rest of the sentence. She was already on her way home by the other road, treading softly while on the beach, lest the pebbles should betray her footsteps. When she was well out of hearing she stopped a moment to take breath. She stood looking out upon the expanse of ocean before her as if her sight could reach to the unknown world beyond it. "Last night," she said, "I thought the worst had come to me. I was wrong." [TO BE CONTINUED.] [Footnote 2: Copyright, 1884, by Frances C. Sparhawk.] * * * * * MEMORY'S PICTURES. By Charles Carleton Coffin, 1846.