Margaret changed colour violently. Her mother, looking on, was surprised to see an embrace from an old uncle, produce signs of emotion. "It must be because of the young man sitting by," she thought sapiently, and drew happy auguries from the circumstance. Those close observers are so often astray! When Joseph reached the inn at Blue Fish Creek, he sent up a little note to Rose, asking if she would not rather come home now in quiet, than wait through the racket of the evening, to be followed by a riotous journey after dark with the rest in their overflowing high spirits. Rose consented, and they drove home forthwith. How different were Joseph's feelings now, from what they had been in the morning! Then, everything was bathed in sunshine and hope. The bare supposition that aught could go amiss did not once cross his mind. Now, he could not say what had befallen him, but a cloud had come down and enveloped him, and blotted out the future, and every certainty from his view, chilling his hopes and even his desires as with an untimely frost. The ring lay forgotten in his pocket. It did not occur to him to offer it again. If he had, the probability is that it would have been accepted, though perhaps without the enthusiasm which would have made the acceptance of value in his eyes. Another phase of feeling had arisen in Rose's mind since her walk with Lettice. Her friend had betrayed a presentiment, that now Gilbert had had speech of her, he would win her back; and Rose revolted at the idea of figuring before her friends as a repentant naughty child. No; she had made her choice, and she would show that she could hold to it. She might not be happy in the future, but at least she could be steadfast. And truly, the man beside her as she drove, so truthful and so good, deserved all the duty and devotion she could devote to him. If she did not love as once she might have loved, at least he should never know it. She would be but the more dutiful on that account; she would even--what seemed the hardest thing of all to her headstrong nature--even obey him. She was very near to him then, if Joseph had but known; but he did not. The old doubleness between his wife of long ago, and this heir to her place in his regard, had arisen anew within him, and it was still the older god who held the shrine. He felt regretfully tender and considerate to his companion by his side, but the enthusiasm of the morning was wanting. They spoke little to one another as they travelled along. Rose was pale and had a splitting headache, and Joseph was consideration itself. He forbore to disturb her, assisted her to alight when they arrived at Clam Beach, and expressed a hope that she would be better in the morning, when they parted and she went up-stairs. CHAPTER XXXI. THE LADY PRINCIPAL.