Charles laughed. “Not come? Mary, have you yet to learn how unassuming and meek is the character of Janey? We have spoken of this plan together, and Janey’s only fear is lest she should be in the way of Miss Taylor failing in the carrying out of this project. Mary (for I see you are as I thought you would be, prejudiced against it) I shall take one of the houses near the office in town and there I shall take Janey. The pleasantest plan would be for me to bring Janey here, entirely as your guest; it is what she and I would both like. If you object, I shall take her elsewhere.” Mary knitted a whole row before she spoke. “I will take a few days to reflect upon it, Charles,” she said. “Do so,” he replied, rising and glancing at his watch. “Half past eight. What time will Martha expect me? I wish to spend half an hour with Janey, shall I go for Martha before or afterwards?” “Go for her at once, Charles; it will be better for her to be home early.” Charles Taylor went to the hall door and looked out upon the night; he was considering whether he need put on an overcoat. It was a bright moonlight night, pleasant and genial, so he closed the door and started. “I wish the cold would come,” he exclaimed half aloud; he was thinking of the fever which still clung to Bellville, showing itself fitfully and partially in fresh places about every three or four days. He took the path leading to L. street, a lonely road and at night unfrequented; the pathway was so narrow that two people could scarcely walk abreast without touching the trunks of the maple trees growing on either side and meeting overhead. Charles Taylor went steadily on, his thoughts running upon the subject of his conversation with Mary. It is probable that but for the difficulty touching a residence, Janey would have been his the past summer. Altogether, Charles’ plan was the best, if Mary could be brought to see it, that his young bride should be her guest for a short time. Charles, in due course of time, arrived at the walk’s end and passed through a large gate. The town lay in front of him, gray and sombre, as it was nearly hidden by trees; he looked at it fondly, his heart yearned to it, for it was to be the future home of Janey and himself. “Hello! who’s there? Oh, I beg your pardon, Mr Taylor.”