Mr. Moreland was engaged with his father in a banking business in the city of New York. They owned a summer villa in Blankville, and it had been during his week of summer idleness here that he had made the acquaintance of Eleanor Argyll. At this season of the year his business kept him in the city; but he was in the habit of coming out every Saturday afternoon and spending Sabbath at the house of Mr. Argyll, the marriage which was to terminate a betrothal of nearly two years being now not very far away. On her nineteenth birthday, which came in December, Eleanor was to be married. Another half-hour passed away and the expected guest did not arrive. He usually reached the house in fifteen minutes after the arrival of the train; I could see that his betrothed was playing nervously with her watch-chain, though she kept her eyes fixed upon her book. "Come, let us have tea; I am hungry," said Mr. Argyll, coming out of the library. "I had a long ride after dinner. No use waiting, Eleanor--he won't be here to-night"--he pinched her cheek to express his sympathy for her disappointment--"a little shower didn't use to keep beaux away when I was a boy." "A _little_ rain, papa! I never heard such a torrent before; besides, it was not the storm, of course, for he would have already taken the cars before it commenced." "To be sure! to be sure! defend your sweetheart, Ella--that's right! But it may have been raining down there half the day--the storm comes from that direction. James, are you asleep?" "I'll soon see," cried Mary, pulling away the hand from her cousin's face--"why, James, what is the matter?" Her question caused us all to look at him; his face was of an ashy paleness; his eyes burning like coals of fire. "Nothing is the matter! I've been half asleep," he answered, laughing, and springing to his feet. "Molly, shall I have the honor?"--she took his offered arm, and we went in to tea. The sight of the well-ordered table, at the head of which Eleanor presided, the silver, the lights, the odor of the chocolate overpowering the fainter fragrance of the tea, was enough to banish thoughts of the tempest raging without, saving just enough consciousness of it to enhance the enjoyment of the luxury within. Even Eleanor could not be cold to the warmth and comfort of the hour; the tears, which at first she could hardly keep out of her proud blue eyes, went back to their sources; she made an effort to be gay, and succeeded in being very charming. I think she still hoped he had been delayed at the village; and that there would be a note for her at the post-office, explaining his absence. For once, the usually kind, considerate girl was selfish. Severe as was the storm, she insisted upon sending a servant to the office; she could not be kept in suspense until Monday. She would hardly believe his statement, upon his return, that the mail had been changed, and there was really no message whatever.