She gaily swung his hands, like a gratified child, and started off for her hat, but, ere she crossed the threshold, turned back, and, walking up to her guardian, laid her arm on his shoulder and whispered something. He laughed, and put his hand under her chin, saying, as he did so,-- "Little witch! How did you know it?" Her reply was audible only to the ears for which it was framed, and she darted away, evidently much happier than she had seemed for many days. While awaiting her return, Dr. Grey picked up her sketch-book, and was examining the contents, when Salome rose and hurried towards the door. As she passed him, his back was turned, and her muslin dress swept within reach of his spur, which caught the delicate fabric. She impatiently jerked the dress to disengage it, but it clung to the steel points, and a long rent was made in the muslin. With a half-smothered ejaculation, she tried to wrench herself free, but the dress only tore across the breadth from seam to seam. Dr. Grey turned, and stooped to assist her. "Wait an instant, Salome; you have almost ruined your dress." He was endeavoring to disentangle the shreds from the jagged edge of the spur, but she bent down, and, seizing the skirt in both hands, tore it away, leaving a large fragment trailing from the boot-heel. "'More haste, less speed.' Patience is better than petulance, my young friend." His grave, reproving voice, rendered her defiant; and, with a forced, unnatural laugh, she bowed, and hurried away, saying, as she looked over her shoulder,-- "And spurs than persuasion? You mistake my nature." Dr. Grey had been riding, all the morning, across a broken stretch of country, where the roads were exceedingly insecure, and, as he removed the troublesome spur and laid it on the mantelpiece, he folded up the strip of muslin and put it into his pocket. "I am waiting for you," cried Muriel, from the hall door. He sighed, and went to his buggy; but the cloud did not melt from his brow, for, as he drove off, he noticed Salome's gleaming eyes peering from the window of her room; and pity and pain mingled in the emotions with which he recalled his sister's warning words. "Muriel, here is your letter, and, better still, Gerard will be with us to-morrow. Diplomatic affairs brought him temporarily to Washington, and he will spend next week with us. I cordially congratulate you, my dear child, and hastened home to bring you the good news, which I felt assured you would prefer to receive without witnesses." Muriel's blushing face was bent over her letter; but she put her hand on her guardian's, and pressed it vigorously. "A thousand thanks for all your goodness! Gerard writes that it was through your influence he was enabled to visit Washington; and, indeed, dear Dr. Grey, we are both very grateful for your kind interest in our happiness. Even poor papa could not be more considerate."