The rain was over, the stars were coming out, and the moon was scudding between the few misty clouds still hovering in the sky. From below he caught the odor of a cigar and heard a man’s tread on the piazza. It was Mark walking up and down as if he, too, were restless and could not sleep. The sight of him brought back the story heard from Uncle Zacheus that morning, and while recalling its details Craig, who had gone back to bed, fell asleep and dreamed that ’Tina came to him in her white dress and blue ribbons, with the gold beads around her neck, which Mr. Taylor had said she wore on the morning when she left home for the prison. She had a sweet, innocent face for which many a man would peril his life, Craig thought, as he awoke with a start to hear a robin singing outside his window and to see a sunbeam on the wall above his head. It was nearly six o’clock,—later than he usually slept,—for he was an early riser. Dressing himself, he went to the dining-room and breakfasted alone. Everything was quiet in the west wing and he saw no signs of the Tracys, except a big Saratoga trunk in the hall waiting to be taken upstairs, and a smart-looking maid, in white cap and apron, carrying a tray from the kitchen with dishes upon it. “One of the ladies breakfasts in her room,—Mrs. Tracy, probably,” he thought, as he sauntered into the office and turned the leaves of the register, finding the names: “Mrs. Freeman A. Tracy, New York city; Miss Helen A. Tracy, New York city; Miss Alice Tracy, Rocky Point, Mass.” The handwriting was very plain and Craig studied it for a moment, while Uncle Zacheus, who was present and still under the spell of Helen’s eyes and smiles, said to him, “Writes a good fist; plain as copper-plate, and she’s a daisy, too, but not up to t’other one. Wait till you see her.” “What do you mean?” Craig asked. “Which is ‘t’other one,’ and which is the daisy?” “Why, t’other one is—t’other one, and the daisy’s gone down to the river with Jeff after pond lilies,” Uncle Zach replied. “Gone to the river with Jeff?” Craig repeated, and Uncle Zach answered, “Yes, sir. She was up with the sun. Wrote the names; hers is the last one; and then went off with Jeff, holdin’ up her white skirts and showin’ her trim boots and ankles just like what Dot’s was once when she was slimmer.”